Steig Larsson - The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Stieg Larsson's The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo has dominated the bestsellers' chart this year, and the Swedish author has received much acclaim posthumously (Larsson died of a heart attack at the age of just fifty). It first came to my attention about a year ago (February 2009), and I added it to my ever-growing list, but, was quick to discount it as another "Da Vinci Code" - lots of hype, minimal substance. Finally though, the crime-thriller-lover in me gave in, and for that I'm grateful. I enjoyed the book thoroughly, but simultaneously, some aspects of it annoyed me a fair bit. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is the first book in the Millennium series, and in its opening pages, the reader is introduced to the main protagonist of the story, Mikael Blomkvist, a disgraced financial journalist, who has just lost a libel case (against one of the business tycoons), and simultaneously, forced to temporarily relieve himself of his job at the small independent magazine, Millennium, which founded along with his best friend, Erika.

Out of a job, and in a bit of a financial flux, an offer comes to him by way of Henrik Vagner, an industrialist who offers Blomkvist over 2 million kroner, to write a memoir of the Vagner family. However, what Vagner really wants the journalist to do is solve a forty year old murder mystery - Harriet, Vagner's niece, disappeared from the small island one fateful day, and no one had heard from her since, leading to the only reasonable conclusion: she had fallen victim to foul play. Despite his (and Erika's) better judgment, Blomkvist does take up the job, and gets caught up in the web of part thieves, misers, bullies and incompetents, that makes up the Vagner family tree. Some members are pro-Nazi, some reclusive, some downright crazy, and all, it seems, with secrets to hide!

Considering the task at hand (solving a mystery forty years old, where all the evidence has been examined and cross-examined, and all the clues washed up), Blomkvist is convinced that he will not find anything. However, as the story takes its course, he comes face to face with "the girl with the dragon tattoo", Lisbeth Salander. Salander is a complex lonely character, with multiple tattoos and piercings. She has her own sense of morality, does not abide by the country's law, has serious intimacy issues, has photographic memory and is a genius hacker - a skill that comes in handy, as Salander acts as his research assistant and co-investigator.

The book picks up pace, and once you're in the midst of all the action, it's almost impossible to put down the book (note: I was up 'til half two in the morning finishing this book, on Wednesday, when I had to go to work Thursday!). You see Salander dealing with the troubles in her life her own way, acting on her own impulses; Blomkvist trying to escape the media circus around his name; Vagner desperate to solve a mystery that has consumed his whole life; and a myriad of other characters who seem to have their own whims and fancies.

Also, while on the face of it, this is a crime thriller, the book explores many other themes as well, specially those of misogyny and anti-Semitism. Initially, the book was called, Men Who Hate Women, and that should give the reader an idea as to what to expect, and trust me - at times, some of the more sadistic scenes will make you want to turn the page as fast as possible, while simultaneously, you won't be able to peel your eyes away from a single word!

So, yes, the book is engrossing and it's a pure page turner. Yet, it needs to go under the editor's red pencil once again - I have serious doubts about it even being edited just the once. There's some poor grammar, and while I do like descriptive writing, there is something called going overboard...

The office was a rectangle of more than 120 square meters. One wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf nine metres long containing a remarkable assortment of literature: biographies, history, business and industry, and A4 binders. The books were arranged in no apparent order. It looked like a bookshelf that was used. The opposite wall was dominated by a desk of dark oak. On the wall behind the desk was a large collection of pressed flowers in neat meticulous rows.

Only the last line of the above paragraph has anything to do with the plot of the novel! Two hundred odd pages could have easily been slashed.

There are also too many characters, and I had to continuously look at the family tree charted at the beginning of the book, to keep track of who's who. I got the feeling that not all the characters were essential, but, they existed to make the book slightly more confusing.

Finally, I've always associated product placement with movies and TV shows, but never with books. However, this entire book had so many brand references, that it made me wonder - is this the future? Books being used to "place" products in the market as well?

The loss of her computer was depressing, but not disastrous. Salander had had an excellent relationship with it during the year she owned it. She had backed up all her documents, and she had an older desktop Mac G3 at home, as well as a five year old Toshiba P.C. laptop that she could use. But she needed a fast modern machine.

Unsurprisingly, she set her sights on the best available alternative: the new Apple PowerBook G4/1.0 GHz in an aluminium case with a Power PC 7451 processor with an AltiVec Velocity Engine, 960 megs of RAM and a sixty gig hard  drive. It had BlueTooth and built in C.D and D.V.D. burners.

The above mentioned laptop spec is already outdated, and PowerBooks haven't existed for a few years now, but, that's not the point. Not only do descriptions like the above prevent the book from becoming as timeless as it could be, but, it's also descriptions that most readers don't care about. Don't get me wrong - I love everything Apple, and hate most things Microsoft, but, the random incessant name-dropping is a turn off.

If you can deal with some ramblings, and bad editing, this book comes highly recommended. I'm already half way through the second book, so, I think that speaks for itself. However, if you're pedantic about things like that, and don't indulge yourself in much "guilty pleasures,"  maybe you should skip this one?

Rating: B-

David Guterson - East of the Mountains

Background: This is the final book read, as part of the Take A Chance Challenge hosted by Jenners. Challenge#7, i.e. Random Bestseller reads:

Go to Random.org and, using the True Random Number Generator, enter the number 1950 for the min. and 2008 for the max. and then hit generate. Then go to this site and find the year that Random.org generated for you and click on it. Then find the bestseller list for the week that would contain your birthday for that year. Choose one of the bestsellers from the list that comes up, read it and write about it.

So, I came up with 1999, May 6, and the book I ended up picking was David Guterson's bestseller, East of the Mountains.

Review:

While a 1999 bestseller is promising, I regret to say I didn't finish this book. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have picked the book up, but, let's face it: the whole point of this challenge was to pick books I wouldn't have normally "taken a chance on". The thing is, the book is really beautifully written, with amazing descriptions about the landscapes, that the author brings to life:

At the far end of Keechelus Lake, the sky eastward opened wide over distant coulees, buttes, and canyons, all swathed in morning light. Ahead lay a low film of red on the horizon where the sun was new; the road wound down through a a stand of grand firs with long, broad, flat needles.

The story revolves around Dr. Ben Givens, a widower suffering from terminal cancer. He decides to go on a last hunting trip, from which he never intends to return, as he meticulously plans his death, so that it seems like an accident. Essentially, he doesn't want his daughter and grandson to undergo the pains of seeing him suffering.

However, almost before he starts his journey, his plans are turned upside down, by an accident, but he continues with his dogs, on foot, reflecting on the life gone by.

It does sound like an interesting read, but the minute the book started talking about hunting, and killing small birds, I stopped reading it. I don't know why, but, it just made me wary. It's weird, because I enjoy a good murder mystery. My love for reading started with crime thrillers, and I have read some reasonably gory books centring around misanthropists and misogynists. Yet, I just can't stomach cruelty to animals... and, I don't get why!

I'm not going to bother rating this book, because clearly, it's not for me, but, I am going to spend some time introspecting as to why cruelty to animals hits me so hard. I stopped reading this about two weeks ago, and I'm still at a loss.

Any ideas? Do any of you feel strongly about something that you can't really explain as well? Is it just a temporary thing? Please help!

Michelle Magorian - Goodnight Mr. Tom

This incredibly poignant well written story tackles various important and sensitive topics, some of which are still valid today, despite the book being set around the time of the second World War.

Set in the English countryside, Michelle Magorian tells the story of Willie, a timid little specimen, who is an evacuee from London, and is made to stay with the reticent grumpy Tom Oakley, who Willie calls Mr. Tom.

Mr. Tom is thoroughly unprepared for the scared nervous creature that's at his doorstep, as he half-expects the evacuee stereotype - the wild ill-mannered children, who cause more chaos than anything else. However, he soon finds out that Will has been continuously abused by his mother, and his small body is covered with sores and bruises. But - the psychological damage surpasses the physical, as Willie cowers at the thought of getting on the wrong side of Mr. Tom, and is petrified of doing anything to annoy him. He also wets his bed, throws up his food, expects absolutely nothing, and tries to shut out the world around him, as his mother has brainwashed him into believing that people will only like him if he's invisible and quiet.

However, Mr. Tom has demons of his own. Ever since the death of his beloved Rachel and son, he had resigned himself from village activities, and kept to himself, grieving alone. Yet, when Willie walks into his life, unexpectedly, he attempts to change, and provides the young boy with a happy home, almost selflessly. Be it clothes, food, shoes, or spending time narrating stories or organising surprise birthday parties!

A children's book, there is no surprise that Will (calling someone Willie sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?) overcomes his childhood traumas, makes friends, works hard, and is a talented artist, under the protective loving care of Mr. Tom - the hero. Yet, half way through the book, Will gets a letter from his mother in London, who is ill, and wants him back...

This story will make you laugh, and it will make you cry. You'll hate the woman that's Will's mother, but you'll wish for more Mr. Toms in this world. You'll mourn the tragedy of war, but cherish the permanence of friendship, and you'll come to terms with life not being fair, but, things having a way of working out - eventually.

As a children's book, this is incredible. Yet, as an adult, I found this book a little too simple, without the raw emotion I'd love to see in a book like this, which could bring it to life. Of course, one can argue that it might not be a book for children then...

Rating: B+

Musing Mondays - Back To School

What books did you read while in school? Were there any that you particular liked, or even hated? Did any become lifelong favourites?

I was one of those girls who always had my nose in a book at school. Weirdly enough, though, my school didn't allow non-library books in the school premises, which I personally thought was unfair, but, there you have it. I've had a good number of books confiscated, and I had to plead to the teacher's better sense to have them back, because I wanted to know how the novels ended. What really did annoy me, though, was an English literature teacher confiscating my copy of The Poetry Of Robert Frost. I have always loved Frost, and I used to keep that in my bag at all times, just because Frost used to be my favourite poet. I never got that back, and that was the last time I ever took a non-library book to school. Being the stubborn teenager I was, I also stopped paying attention during English lessons (which was a pity, as I genuinely loved Eng Lit), and I started arguing with the teacher unnecessarily. However, in my defence, I still can't fathom why an English teacher would not be happy with a book of Frost poems!! At least I wasn't reading Mills & Boons or Danielle Steels or Sweet Valleys, or god knows what else!

Enough ranting, though.

We read a lot more short stories and poems than we did proper novels. We did read Little Women, but, it was the abridged version, and we didn't experience any of the tragedies the book had to offer. We also read a lot of Shakespeare, including A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Merchant Of Venice, and The Tempest. I tried to get my school do a play on Macbeth, but, to no avail. A pity, as Macbeth remains my favourite work by the great Bard of Stratford.

Outside school, my reading pattern continuously changed. While in junior school, I tried getting my hands on as many Enid Blytons and Roald Dahls as possible. I did read some of the children's classics (Tom Sawyer & Huck Finn, The Secret Garden, Uncle Tom's Cabin etc), but not as vociferously as I would have liked to. Middle school was mostly Nancy Drews, Hardy Boys, The Three Investigators, and the like, before slowly moving on to John Grisham, Jeffrey Archer, Arthur Hailey, Robin Cook and Ken Follet.

Only at the age of fourteen did I dive into better books, like, Catcher In The Rye, The Fountainhead, An Equal Music, Lust for Life, etc. I think this was my defining year in terms of books I read, and the shape my life as a reader was going to take. Yep, I did read my share of really bad books, including a couple of Sweet Valley Highs and Nancy Drew On Campus, but neither of them were for me. A pity as I was hooked on to the Nancy Drew Casefiles.

I can't really remember much of what I read after that, and I don't think I actually read in my final two years of school, as I was struggling to get a good grade to get into University, while simultaneously keeping on top of all the extracurricular activities I had so enthusiastically dived into. So, yeah - that's my school reading, in a nutshell.

William Goldman - The Princess Bride

Mish @ Stage And Canvas convinced me to read this book with a comment on the Great Movie Adaptations' Weekly Geeks. It sounded like a fun, light-hearted read, and that's exactly what it was. Fun. Light-hearted. Feel good. It's a book that combines the best elements of all the classic fairy tales, and exaggerates them to the point of hilarity. There's true love, poison, revenge, hatred, pride, giants, miracle men, witches, great fencers, epic duels, beasts, torture, the villain and his cronies, and the hero who has to save the day.

It's a complicated plot, where in the opening section, the most beautiful girl in the world, Buttercup, realises she's in love with the farm boy, Westley, and she professes her love, which is obviously reciprocated. However, Westley decides to go to America to seek his fortune, but he is killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts. Devastated, Buttercup says she must never love again. And she doesn't.

When Prince Humperdinck  (don't you love the name?) finds her, he asks for her hand in marriage, saying the matrimony needn't be bound by love. Buttercup agrees to the union, but, before the grand wedding, she is kidnapped by a genius Sicilian hunchback, a giant (who fears loneliness), and a wizard fencer (who is seeking revenge on the nobleman who killed his father). A man in black, better with the sword than one of the best fencers in time, stronger than the giant, and cleverer than the hunchback saves her, but ends up leading her to the nightmarish Fire Swamp, with quicksand and ROUS, or Rodents of Unusual Size. And this is there I stop telling the tale, lest I give too much away.

How can you not love a book which has lines like:

My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

or,

"Fool!" cried the hunchback. "You fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is 'Never get involved in a land war in Asia,' but only slightly less well known is this: 'Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.'"

He was quite cheery until the iocane powder took effect.

I was literally laughing out loud, and was thoroughly entertained. I loved the movie, and I love the book a little bit more, specially for its twisted plot, and for the obscure ending.

What, in my opinion, is truly genius though, is the fact that this is supposed to be the "good parts" version of S. Morgenstern's classic tale of true love and high adventure. However, S. Morgenstern is a figment of Goldman's imagination, and doesn't actually exist. Why is this genius? Well, only because at the beginning of the book Goldman states it's his favourite book ever, and his father read it to him while he was recovering from pneumonia. Throughout the book, Goldman adds "notes," explaining some of the cuts he has made, for the original work was apparently epically long. These notes also include some of his thoughts, like, how a children's book is bound to have a happy ending, and how, the leading lady will not be killed by sharks half-way through the book!

'Life isn't fair, Bill. We tell our children that it is, but it's a terrible thing to do. It's not only a lie, it's a cruel lie. Life is not fair, and it never has been, and it's never going to be.'

These comments from the so-called "abridger" reads completely independently, and, can easily be skipped/skim-read. But then, Goldman talks at length about the trouble he had with his fictitious book's estate, and he makes an incredibly convincing case - which, retrospectively, I attribute to being satirical as well.

It's a great book for children, and adults, and it just is a fairy tale as no other.

Rating : A+

Morocco!

I've been AWOL all week, as I was in sunny Morocco! A wonderful break from the cold misery that London's been, although being in Marrakech did come with its downsides. Apparently, I'm allergic to the sun and the dust, and Marrakech is, by far, the most polluted city I've ever visited. I even had trouble breathing at times!!! Maybe, I'm just delicate... Anyway, we stayed at a fantastic riad, which provided us with a scrumptious breakfast, and despite being in some dark decrepit alleyway, it was really amazing. The guys who ran it are French, and they were superb, and we ended up getting lots of advice from them. I even got to practice my French (Bonjour Monsieur, parlez-vous anglais? and je ne comprends pas covers it!).

Marrakech isn't a pretty city, but what it doesn't have in beauty, it makes up for in character. The main square and the souks are bustling with people, and everyone's trying to drag you into their store/stall. You practically had to bargain for everything, which was slightly tiresome, as I'm a "fixed price" kind-of girl. However, when they ask for 280 dirhams for something, and eventually sell you the item for 80, you have to wonder...

Also, Sex and the City 2 was being shot in Morocco while we were there too - about five minutes away from where we were staying. It's funny, as, last time we were in New York, we saw some scenes being filmed in Central Park as well, for the first movie. So, the three of us have been contemplating our next holiday location, just to see if we'll run into the Sex and the City crew again... and, none of us are fans - just for the record!

Unfortunately, while I did take two books with me, my eyes reacted to the dust and the sun, and for most of the holiday, my eyes were watering, and I couldn't read. Like an idiot, I left my glares back home, and that did my eyes in. I was walking with my eyes closed while outside, and that wasn't out of choice. Sucks, as my eyes are closed in more than half the pictures we took outdoors.

Oh well, I'm back in London now, and have enjoyed breathing the clean fresh air (!), being blown away by the wind, and experiencing tube trouble - all in a day's work! It's good to be home.

John Christopher - The Death Of Grass

Background: While this month, my blog entries seem to be focused a lot on the Take A Chance challenge, it's only because the challenge is up end of month, and I am actually trying to finish it. After this, I only have one more challenge to tackle, and I've already started the final book (David Guterson's East of the Mountain).

This is challenge#1, i.e. "Random Book Selection". My random directions included going to the fiction corner at Waterstones, and selecting the fourteenth book from the third shelf on the second book-case. Coming up with a Penguin Modern Classic, I think, was a shade of luck.

I don't normally compare or contrast books, but, the best way to define this book would be Lord of the Flies meeting The Road. Considering The Death of Grass was published in the 1950s, and The Road in the 21st century, it might not be the fairest statement, but, when I finished the book, that's the first thing that came to my mind.

Survival of the fittest. That's what it's about - even if it means civilised people killing their fellow citizens, contemplating leaving a young boy to die, heartlessly killing a couple, and keeping their eyes on reaching a "safe haven" of sorts. Finding comfort in the fact that they will be able to re-acquaint themselves with humanity upon reaching this haven, the protagonists (and their countrymen) resort to barbarism and anarchism, just to survive.

He stared up at her, incredulously, while she did so, and was still staring when the bullets began tearing through his body. He shrieked once or twice, and then was quiet. She went on firing until the magazine was exhausted. There was comparative silence after that, broken only by Mary's sobbing.

A developed country, England, is in turmoil, after the Chung-Li virus has wiped out all their "grass" and "grass crops," including rice and wheat. The Chung-Li virus has already caused widespread disruption in Asia, and the Europeans had seen them resort to their worst sides as the resulting famine ensured the lack of food for everyone. However, they attributed the disaster to the "lack of thoroughness" of the Asiatics, and figured that being in a developed country, they would never stoop so low.

The ecosystem is collapsing, but the government issues some false press that the virus is in control, in order to calm the civilians, and prevent them from panicking and acting out of haste. However, what the government has in mind is, for lack of better words, scary. Atomic bombs can deplete life; subsequently drastically decreasing the number of mouths to feed. Aid from the United States has come to a halt, and now, England is battling alone.

John Custance, an architect in London, on a heads up from a close friend, decides to make a break for his brother's farm in the North, with his family and close friends. There, he figures, they will all be safe, until the crisis is over, and they can return to normalcy.

However, what ensues begs the question: Can their lives ever return to what it used to be like? The journey up North is difficult, violent, and life-changing in every way imaginable. People kill for food, for shelter, for survival. The fall of the government has just led to people's darker sides taking over, and we see brutal scenes of rape, as well as, pure cold-blooded killing. Some members of the group are trying to hold on to their humanity. Some have left it behind, with the single goal of reaching the farm in mind.

This is a bleak depressing book, which makes me question my faith in humanity. When push comes to shove, will we resort to killing our own to survive? When the ecosystems break down, will we sacrifice everything that supposedly differentiates us from other beings, just to make it? Will we do anything in the world to protect our friends, families and loved ones? Even if it means compromising on the ideals we've always believed in?

Just as most of the book is bleak and disheartening, the ending is unbelievably despondent, and you're just left gaping, wondering how on earth did humanity end up like this. And then, you thank your stars that this is merely fiction...

...But, for how long?

Can you imagine killing someone in cold blood, just because they have shelter and food? And how would you react when you knew the odds were against you, but, you knew exactly what you had to do if you wanted to live another day?

Rating : A

Molly Keane - Full House

I stumbled upon this book in a second-hand bookstore, and fell in love with the cover. It's also my first green Virago Modern Classic, and I was quite excited to begin this journey... luckily, it didn't disappoint, which is nice, as my last two reads haven't been exceptionally good, by any standards. Set in the backdrop post the Great War, Full House introduces us to one of the most frightening mothers in literature, Lady Bird, and her family which is undergoing all kinds of transformations. John, the oldest child was on the brink of insanity, and was sent to a hospital. He is now returning home, much to the delight of the entire family, and Eliza - a friend to both, Lady Olivia Bird and Sir Julian Bird - has come to their magnificent home, Silverue, to share this momentous occasion with them.

However, while the early pages of the book deals with John's return, the story quickly develops into an account of the Bird children, their governess - Miss Parker, as well as the adults: Eliza, Julian and Olivia.

There's Mark, the cruel albeit adorable child, who is the apple of everyone's eyes, and everyone is completely captivated by his beauty, so much so that no one wants him to grow up. There's his older sister, Sheena, who is in love with a boy, but their engagement has been delayed due to their age. John, of course, is the oldest of the three, and his return home is the catalyst for the rest of the story, which includes posh tedious tennis parties, a garden tour for fundraising which exhausts everyone as Olivia pushes them to do her bidding, broken hearts, new loves, and changed lives. Questions are asked about total honesty, about doing what's right, and about loyalty. More questions are raised about true love, happiness, and friendship.

And of course... there's Lady Bird. A funny name, if there was one, but a formidable character, nonetheless. Cruel, girlish, and more focused on being an "older sister" to her children, than acting as their mother, Lady Bird is accustomed to getting her own way, and Julian indulges her. Her children don't have the nicest things to say about her, and despite threatening to leave, they never really intend to. Yet, she never registers her children's true opinion of her, as she focuses on looking "oppressively young", creating fantastic flower decorations, and contemplating a Swiss governess for her youngest son.

The inconsequence and the obviousness of all her posturings and nonsense. How could she blind herself to the fact that they could not deceive her reasonably intelligent and spiteful offspring. They did not see even the shadow of her pretended self, only her pretences. And in her affections she was most sincere. She had nothing else except her beauty, and that cold not affect them at all.

Words cannot do justice to the depth of this story. The writing is beautifully vivid, and the Birds are one of the most enchanting families I have across in the world of books. As the past catches up with the present, as old secrets emerge, and as despair overtakes some members of the house, one cannot help but share the emotions: sympathise, love, regret, shed tears, and hope for a happy ending, after everything the "poor dears" have been through.

This book was originally published in the 1930s, and the dialog is fantastic; full of "dears", "sweets" and "darlings". Terms of endearment and thrown about carelessly, as are aspersions cast. For instance, little Markie, at the age of seven, calls his sister "bitch". I was fairly taken aback there. Yet, hopeless romantic that I am, paragraphs like the below did make me smile and wonder where the times have gone? Where the innocence and tranquility has disappeared to? And maybe... to an extent, I am glad we don't talk like this anymore.....

"Eliza, look at me. Darling, you're so wonderful. Why didn't I know before you cared about me. Darling, tell me. Don't be so obstinate. Oh my god, I love you so much. I think I do, don't I?"

"How can I tell you if you love me, sweet one? I only know about myself."

In a nutshell, I loved this book. The candid opinions, the selfishness, the adorations and the affections.

Rating : A

PS : I am trying out a new rating system, linked above. Please let me know what you think of it - does it work, or not so much?

Susan Hill - The Beacon

Background: I ended up picking this book for the Take A Chance Challenge#5. You might have noticed that in my original book selection, I had opted for Mary Higgins Clark's Just Take My Heart. However, that book is not out in paperback yet, so... I went back to the phone book and found the name "Hill".

With Howard's End Is On The Landing out recently, and loads of bloggers reviewing it, I figured Susan Hill was the sensible choice! And so, here it is... Susan Hill's The Beacon. Just for the record, this is the first Susan Hill I've read....

The book opens with Mrs. Prime's peaceful death at The Beacon, where she lives with one of her children, May. Two of the others have married locally, and quiet, almost reticent Frank lives in London. May had gone to London to study to escape from the bleak country-life, but, hallucinations and nightmares drove her to return to the safety of home within the year.

While May is contemplating making the call to her siblings, she tries to figure out if she should call Frank - Frank who betrayed the entire family, and who they haven't spoken to since. This leads to retrospection: looking back at how events unfolded, and the impact it had on the family as a whole.

Mostly written in May's voice, this book does explore a very interesting topic. Frank's ultimate betrayal is writing a book in first person, entitled The Story Of One Boy's Brutal Childhood, where he talks of his life in the "cupboard under the stairs" (very Harry Potter-like), and the abuse he suffered at the hands of his older siblings and father. However, as the other children (now adults) remember it, this is mere fabrication, and none of it ever happened. However, as they live in a small village in Ireland, the family name has been tarnished, and it's almost impossible for them to vindicate themselves. Also, a doubt has formed in everyone's mind, and the siblings themselves cannot determine what's the truth, and what they have deleted from their memories.

While the premise is interesting, i.e. how a memoir like Frank's victimises the family, the book in itself fell flat. It started off being interesting, but as it progressed, it left a lot to be desired... specially the ending, which was at best ambiguous. Based on this, I don't think I'll be seeking out more of Susan Hill's works.

Rating: 2.5

Looking Back On October, and Thinking Ahead To November

Happy Halloween, everyone! What have you been doing this Halloween? Watching scary movies? Reading scary books? Trickin' & treatin'? Or, hiding under the covers?

Me - well, I've almost ignored Halloween completely, barring the couple of hours of TV that I indulged myself in. I meant to read Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived In The Castle, or, Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book. However, I didn't end up doing either (I have a valid excuse: I don't have either of the books), and that pretty much seems to sum up my October.

I'm not one of those people who blogs daily. I don't feel compelled to, and I don't want to put myself under that kind of stress (I get stressed very easily). This is supposed to be a fun thing, right? However, I'm quite shocked about how little I've blogged this month (just the nine posts, excluding this one), and almost embarrassed.

Even my reading stats have been worse than usual this month, with me only finishing five books. To be honest, when I was home, I indulged myself in "comfort reading," including many Roald Dahls, and both, the St. Clares and Malory Towers series. It was a welcome change, and I enjoyed that for a week or so. Being ill, and suffering from god-knows-what didn't really help either.

Anyway... I did read some amazing books this month, with my favourite being a toss-up between Rebecca and I Capture The Castle. How are you supposed to choose one of those books over the other?

I do have some extensive reading plans for November, including:

Of course, as most things, nothing will go according to plan, and you probably won't see anything on any of these books for the next few months (barring Susan Hill's The Beacon, and that's only because I'm half-way through that book).

Anyway, as I do feel slightly guilty about a very quiet October, I promise I'll try my best to make it up in November...... wish me luck!

Carlos Ruiz Zafón - The Angel's Game

I absolutely loved The Shadow Of The Wind when I read it back in April, with its glimpse into old Barcelona, fantastic story-telling and hyperbolism extraordinaire. When The Angel's Game hit the stores a few months back, I picked it out almost greedily, and stacked it on my bookshelf, waiting for the "right" time to pull it out, and lose myself in the magical world of Zafón's writing.

The Angel's Game takes us back to old Barcelona, towards the end of World War I, through the eyes of David Martin, an aspiring writer. The opening lines set the mood for the book:

A writer never forgets the first time he accepts a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood, and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he covets most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed and his soul has a price.

The narrator starts off as a sensationalist story-writer; his thrillers are first published weekly in a newspaper, and he goes on to assume a pseudonym, to write a monthly series of books entitled City of the Damned. While his stories were well-received, David's attempt at a serious novel met with bad reviews, and a combination of disappointment and enticement led him to make a deal with the devil himself : Andreas Corelli, a Parisian publisher, who offers David a small fortune, in return for David writing him an epic book, a book that would create a brand new religion, to which Corelli would play god (or, in this case, the devil).

David inadvertently gets sucked into Corelli's game, digging up secrets from years gone by, witnessing murders, being a subject of police investigations, and almost living a life that existed in his series, City of the Damned. His best friend marries his lover, an adolescent moves in with him in order to find a writing mentor, and subsequently turning his life upside down, and his residence, a creepy tower in the sinister dark side of the city, holds infinite mysteries of its own.

The book also takes us back to the Cemetery Of Forgotten Books, an incredible concept that Zafón introduced in his debut novel, and it sounds equally fantastic. This time, David goes there to hide a book, and is subject to the same rules as Daniel was in The Shadow Of The Wind.

However, that's where the similarity ends. The book has some great characters, with Isabella (the adolescent who seeks David out to be her mentor) being a personal favourite, but the story was disjointed, and had way too many bizarre things happening, leading to a disappointing ending, where the loose ends remain untied. The book started promisingly, and is quite fast-paced, but in my opinion, it's at the expense of things not being explained coherently, or the writing being rushed.

Zafón's a talented writer, and there are phrases and sentences that leapt off the page and made me chuckle, or nod in agreement. Like his protagonist, he seems to be a sensationalist writer, enjoying the luxury of hyperboles and scandal. In fact, in parts the book, I thought that some of David's experiences were first hand accounts - the way David is treated by his publishers, the art of procrastination, and the way of research.

It's unfortunate, so, that his second book didn't live up to all the hype that the first book had created.

Rating: 2.5

Dodie Smith - I Capture The Castle

Dodie Smith's I Capture The Castle is another one of those books with a fantastic opening line, which makes the reader want more:

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. That is, my feet are in it; the rest of me is on the draining board, which I have padded with our dog's blanket and the tea-cosy.

An enchanting narrator, seventeen year old Cassandra (described as Jane Eyre with a touch of Becky Sharp), attempts to capture eight of the months of her stay at the castle, in three journals: the six penny book, the shilling book, and the two guinea book.

Poverty-striken, with barely any new income coming in, the family is trying to figure out the best way to make ends meet. All the antiques have been sold, and the castle is but bare now. Cassandra's father, also a writer, hasn't been able to work since he was in prison for three months, and the money coming in from the successes of his first book is now nil. His second wife, Topaz, occasionally poses nude for artists to earn money, but even that isn't much for she has to live in London during these jobs, and living there is expensive. Cassandra's older sister, Rose, is bitter and disgruntled with the state of affairs, and contemplates working the streets in order to make some quick money; whereas Thomas is still going to school and giving a helping hand around at home. Finally, there's young Stephen, the son of their now deceased househelp, who is completely enamoured by Cassandra, despite the fact that it seems to be unrequited.

When Simon and Neil Cotton, the inheritors of the castle, which the family has leased, come into their lives one day, Cassandra focuses on getting Rose and Simon together, in order to improve the quality of Rose's life, and see her happier. However, what transpires is heart-wrenching, as the seventeen year old realises that love is complicated, and somehow, things don't always turn out as one intends them to.

Cassandra is a lovely and fascinating narrator, and her writing is full of literary and musical references, be it Lord Fauntleroy, or Debussy. Hidden throughout the book are loads of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte references, and one of my favourite parts of the book read:

"I thought of the beginning of Pride and Prejudice - where Mrs. Bennett says 'Netherfield Park is let at last'. And then Mr. Bennett goes to call on the rich new owner."

"Mr. Bennett didn't owe him any rent," I said.

"Father wouldn't go anyway. How I wish I lived in a Jane Austen novel!"

I said I'd rather be in a Charlotte Bronte.

"Which would be nicest - Jane with a touch of Charlotte, or Charlotte with a touch of Jane?"

There are even art references, and I was quite surprised by a surrealist Dali reference. These references added to the book, and I found myself being fascinated as I was surrounded by intelligent well-read characters, and not girls who are looking to sit pretty and not do much else.

The emotions are also portrayed beautifully, and the honesty the journals portray are heartwarming. She comes across as a conscientious child, innocent and "consciously naive", and when she acts impulsively, her guilt and self-criticism begs for sympathy.

The one "captured" character, though, that I just didn't understand, was the father. He turned a blind eye to the problems of the castle, where his children were dressed in torn worn-out clothes, and there was barely any food at home. Even when Stephen, someone who "worked" for the family without taking any wages, offered to get a job and contribute to the household expenditures, the father carried on as though everything was right as rain. Some of the other characters were convinced that he needed psychological help, whereas others labeled him a genius.

I loved this book to bits, and thought it was a wonderful story, from the perspective of a very charming seventeen year old. The characters are incredible, the story touching, and the turn of events mind-boggling and wistful. And the book didn't have a typical ending, which endeared me to it further.

Rating: 4