The Sunday Salon

Happy Halloween! I’m not really a Halloween person anymore, but this year I kind of got in the mood for it. Last night I was catching up on CSI episodes; there’s one from a couple of weeks ago where there’s this serial killer that breaks into the homes of do-gooders and kills them for having skeletons in their closet. This was especially scary to me considering I’m at my parents’ house home alone, while they’re on the opposite coast this week! I couldn’t fall asleep, thnk that there might be a man dressed in full-body latex lying under my bed! (where do the writers of CSI come up with these ideas?). Another good reason why I’m eager to move into my new apartment building (which, with any luck, will take place sometime in December)—at least I’ll constantly have people above, around and below me rather than being isolated in the suburbs.

I only read ten books in October but at least one of them was a 700-plus-page chunkster (Penmarric). October was a busy month for me personally; I closed on my new condo and I’m starting to take on more responsibility at work. So lots going on that’s exciting.

Also read this month were The Countess, by Rebecca Johns, The Abyss, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles, Cranford, by Elizabeth Gaskell, Vile Bodies, by Evelyn Waugh, Making Conversation, by Christine Longford, Mary Lavelle, by Kate O’Brien, The Gentlewomen, by Laura Talbot, Dimanche and Other Stories, by Irene Nemirovsky, and Dark Road to Darjeeling, by Deanna Raybourn. I had a lot of luck with my Persephone and Virago reads this month, as well as with the other classics I read and Dark Road to Darjeeling. Least favorite of the books I read this month was The Countess, which sadly didn’t live up to what I expected of it. My current read, which I’m already halfway through, is another chunkster: Lords of the White Castle, by Elizabeth Chadwick. The weather has gotten a bit chillier here recently and I needed a good, thick read to match my mood!

Review: The Abyss, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Pages: 577

Original date of publication: 1995

My edition: 2009 (Sphere)

Why I decided to read: Heard about it through HFO

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, January 2010

#18: 1833-1837. Covers the building of the railways and the early reign of Queen Victoria

In The Abyss, the struggle between Nicholas and Benedict Morland really takes center stage. Benedict still lives in exile, working on the railways, while his brother, Nicholas, lives a life of decadence at Morland Place, surrounded by a cast of unsavory servants. The jealousy Nicholas feels towards his younger brother is mirrored in the larger struggle going on in England—between those who support the railways and those who do not.

As you might guess from the book’s description, this installment in the series focuses on the rivalry between Nicholas and Benedict. There tends to be a bit black-and-white feel to their relationship; one of them is completely bad while the other is completely good. Still, you keep hoping that Nicholas will change his ways, even though you know his jealously is so deeply-seated that he won’t. And it’s amazing how deep that jealousy runs; Nicholas has even begun to believe all the lies he’s been telling about his brother for all these years. It even seems that the only reason why he opposes the railways is to get back at his brother.

I enjoyed reading about how the railways came about, but I did think the novel could have focused on some of the other members of the family, too. Instead, it’s as though the author totally forgot about them in order to focus on the Benedict and Nicholas storyline. Also, I think that a better way could have been found to resolve the conflict. Still, it’ll be interesting to witness the fallout from the brothers’ rivalry in the next book in the series.

Review: Penmarric, by Susan Howatch

Pages: 704

Original date of publication: 1971

My edition: 1990 (Ballantine)

Why I decided to read: I heard about it through the members at HFO

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, January 2010

Penmarric is a novel that is mostly based upon the Plantagenets—specifically, Henry II, Eleanor, and their children. This novel takes the Penmar/Castellack/Parrish families from 1890 up through the end of WWII. Penmarric is the family estate (loosely correlating to the English throne); and the story is told from the POV of five of them: Mark Castellack (i.e., Henry), his wife Janna (Eleanor), Adrian (Henry’s illegitimate son Geoffrey), Philip (Richard) and Jan Ives (John).

The story follows that of the Plantagenets closely. If you’re familiar with the story of Henry and his family, you might think you know what will happen here—but Susan Howatch adds quite a new dimension to the story of the Castellacks and their family home. I love multi-generational stories of families and old houses, and this one was no exception. I loved watching these characters grow and mature over the course of more than fifty years. Each of the narrators is unique, and tells their side of the story from a different vantage point. They are all very realistic and make mistakes, but that makes them all the more relatable. Janna/Eleanor disappears after she’s said her piece, but what can you reasonably expect when Eleanor spent a good portion of her life imprisoned?

I was a little disappointed in this book in one way, however; the conflict between Mark and his sons wasn’t quite as pronounced as Henry’s was with his. Still, there’s an incredible amount of tension, and I enjoyed watching things play out. I never really knew what was going to happen. I loved the authors descriptions of Cornwall, too—this is the kind of book that makes a reader want to visit the place described in it! While not “great” historical fiction, this is the kind of engrossing novel that I read in great big chunks at a time. I can’t wait to read some of the other books by Susan Howatch that I’ve got on the TBR list—this book is my first by her and definitely not the last! Definitely recommended if you enjoy big, sprawling family sagas.

The Sunday Salon

Remember how I bragged about not buying books last weekend? Well, all of that got shot out of the water when, during my lunch break on Monday, I went to the Philly Book Trader and walked away with seven books: That Lady, by Kate O’Brien, The Rising tide, by Molly Keane, Mad Puppetstown by the same; and Devoted Ladies, also by the same (it was a good day for molly Keane finds), Harriet Hume, by Rebecca West, Love, by Elizabeth Von Arnim, and Troy Chimneys, by Margaret Kennedy. The first three I already own and I’m giving away to LTER members in the Virago Modern Classics group, so they don’t count! I also find myself increasingly tempted by the new Persephones that came out this week, so I may cave in and buy those too. I might as well be honest, here!

I’ve found lately that I’m in a reviewing slump. Normally I try to write reviews s soon as I can after reading books; but this week I read four books and I’m not in the mood to write any of the reviews. Part of the problem is that Vile Bodies has been a hard book to get motivated to read; I liked it a lot but I don’t know what to say about it. Beyond the Evelyn Waugh, I also read Making Converation, by Christine Longford, Mary Lavelle, by Kate O’Brien, and The Gentlewomen, by Laura Talbot. Mary Lavelle is proof of the reason why I continue to read an author even if I didn’t like the first book I read by them; I had trouble reading O’Brien’s The Ante-Room, but I really liked Mary Lavelle.

Review: Mini Shopaholic, by Sophie Kinsella

Pages: 414

Original date of publication: 2010

My edition: 2010 (Dial)

Why I decided to read: Heard about it through Amazon.com

How I acquired my copy: Amazon Vine, September 2010

I’ve read all of Sophie Kinsella’s books to date, and I’ve enjoyed nearly all of them. Her novels are quirky and fun and funny, and they always provide their reader with a bit of brain candy. Mini-Shopaholic is the sixth Shopaholic book featuring the adventures of Becky Brandon (nee Bloomwood). You’d think that after six books in this series, the series would have jumped the shark, so to speak, but still Sophie Kinsella manages to find fresh material for our heroine.

Mini Shopaholic takes place two and a half years after the last Shopaholic book, Shopaholic and Baby, leaves off. Becky’s daughter Minnie is essentially going through the Terrible Twos, and everyone else (including Luke) think Becky spoils her. Added on top of that is the fact that, apparently, Minnie is becoming a mini-shopaholic herself (Minnie/mini, get it?). Becky’s got herself a handful as she tries to juggle a demanding toddler, plus try to plan a surprise birthday party for Luke.

Whenever I read afresh one of the Shopaholic books, I always find myself going “uh, oh, what’s Becky getting into now?” She’s always getting herself into difficulties, especially with Luke (watch as she tells Luke she’s going to get a boob job, when really she’s meeting with his assistant bonnie to discuss details of the party). Sometimes the lies she tells are really out there, so much so that I wonder that anyone actually believes them. Plus, the whole lying thing surely can’t be good for Becky’s relationship with Luke. But the reason why I like this series so much is that it’s very funny. I don’t know how Sophie Kinsella has managed to do it, but she has managed to keep up Becky’s character through six books of the series, and she’s still interesting and fun. I was a little disappointed in the fact that most of the plot revolved around Luke’s party, and not so much on Minnie and Becky’s parenting. Still, this didn’t totally detract from my enjoyment of the book. There also promises to be more books in this series in the future…

Review: Told By An Idiot, by Rose Macaulay

Pages: 315

Original date of publication: 1923

My edition: 1983 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: Heard about this through the Virago Modern Classics list

How I acquired my copy: Ebay, July 2010

Told By An Idiot is the story of one family from 1880 through the early 1920s. Mr. Garden is a clergyman who frequently switches faiths; then there’s his wife, who quietly devotes herself to her family; and then there are their six unusually-named children, who are adults (or nearly so) when the novel opens.

Times, they are a’changin’. That’s essentially the theme of the novel as we watch the Garden family grow and mature. We watch the younger generation marry and have children; and then we watch their children grow up, too. This book is not only an interesting look at one family, but the times in which they live at the end of the 19^th century, how things change, and how the Garden family reacts to it. I feel as though the author used this novel to comment, albeit subtly and satirically, on the times. She focuses mostly on the fin de siècle period, jumping over WWI (since it was still so much in everyone’s minds anyways at the time the book was written).

Macaulay’s comments on late-19^th and early 20^th century life are never pedantic; I loved her wry sense of humor and insightful comments on her characters and the period in which they lived. My favorite quote in this book, from which the book gets its title, pretty much sums up the whole book: “Life was to [Rome] at this time more than ever a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing.” It’s an interesting take on events that had so much of an impact on people. Rome Garden is perhaps the only one of the family who chooses to watch things from the sidelines, and so we kind of see things from her point of view. I’m not expressing it quite the way I want to, by Rose Macaulay’s message hit home for me. This is an absolutely stunning book, recommended to anyone who enjoys reading about this period in history.

Review: This Rough Magic, by Mary Stewart

Pages: 254

Original date of publication: 1964

My edition: 1964 (William Morrow)

Why I decided to read: it was 90 degrees outside at the time and I decided it was time to read another book by a favorite author

How I acquired my copy: from Susanna Kearsley, December 2009

Sometimes, whether or not I decide to read a book depends on the weather. Mary Stewart’s books are best read on either very hot or very cold days; and since it was 90 degrees out one weekend a couple of weeks ago, I decided that this one would be perfect. And it was.

This Rough Magic takes its title from The Tempest, a play from which this novel takes off. Lucy Waring is a struggling actress who comes to visit her sister on Corfu. One of her neighbors is a renowned actor who’s taken a bit of a sabbatical and his son, a musician with whom Lucy comes to blows at first. This Rough Magic is vintage Mary Stewart, with a murder or two, a mystery, romance, suspense, and lots of magic thrown in.

Lucy is your typical Mary Stewart heroine: plucky, feisty, and has no end of courage to get her through her adventure. Her relationship with Max Gale is somewhat predictable, but much more interesting is Sir Julian, a gentleman with a number of surprises up his sleeve. Having read most of Mary Stewart’s suspense novels now, this one is right up there as one of the more suspenseful. The plot moves at great speed, and there are some truly wonderful scenes in this book: none more so than Lucy’s initial encounter with the dolphin. I loved the author’s descriptions of Corfu. I also loved how Mary Stewart incorporates the political atmosphere of Corfu and Greece into the plot of this novel. This Rough Magic is, in my opinion, one of the better of Mary Stewart’s books.

Review: City of Light, by Lauren Belfer

Pages: 503

Original date of publication: 1999

My edition: 2005 (Dial)

Why I decided to read: Amazon.com recommendation

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, December 2009

Set in Buffalo, New York, in 1901, City of Light is told from the point of view of Louisa Barrett, a 36-year-old spinster and the headmistress of a prestigious girls’ school in town. She is extremely modern, almost to the point of yawning, and her progressive views on girls’ education and the position of women in society in general got to be wearying after a while. The novel starts with a sensational murder connected to the power plant that’s owned by Louisa’s best friend Tom.

This novel was a little confusing. At some points it’s a murder mystery; at others, it’s social commentary; at others the novel focuses more on the technological and political issues of the day. It’s as though the author conducted tons and tons of research on her subject (by no means a bad thing) and she decided that she just had to get it all in. Everything about the use of electricity is detailed, so much so that I became bored by the author’s descriptions of every single little thing.

Another thing I couldn’t stand about this novel is the main character. She’s full of contradictions: she’s modern and progressive and has salons at her home that are attended by all the notables of Buffalo. She’s also concerned about appearances; on the other, she encourages people to think that she’s got a “Boston marriage with her friend.” She’s strong and independent, but she allows something to happen to her that basically makes her a victim in the situation, that basically goes against the character the author created in the first 400 pages.

The plot had a lot of potential, but there were some serious holes; and there were some twists that were interesting but not particularly skillfully revealed (I could see the twist about Grace coming from a mile away). I liked the premise of the book, but there were some major flaws about the book that couldn’t get me seriously interested in the plot or the characters. It’s too bad, because there’s a lot of promise here.

The Sunday Salon

With the purchase of my new condo, I’ve severely curtailed my book shopping habits. I’ve really gotten a lot better at not impulsively going into bookstore, shopping online, and accepting review copies. For example, in August I added 18 books to the archive; in September, I acquired only four (only two of which were bought). So far this month, I’ve only bought one and anticipate acquiring only one more: my October Persephone (the bought book was a VMC edition of Hester, by Margaret Oliphant)

Not buying books hasn’t stopped me from walking into bookstores to browse, however; this past week during my lunch break I went into Borders and wandered around for a half an hour, imagining the possibilities. I nearly came away with Dark Road to Darjeeling, by Deanna Raybourn; Dark Moon of Avalon, by Anna Ellliott; and a number of Nancy Mitford books that I’ve been dying to read. Amazing, the kind of willpower I had to turn all of that down! I’m still patting myself on the back. But I had major cravings today when I was on the Persephone website; this fall they're reprinting another one of Monica Dickens's novels, The Winds of Heaven, and two of Margaret Oliphant's short stories in one volume. Plus, they're coming out with a Persephone Diary that I was reading about on Dovegreyreader; they're featuring the end papers of all ninety books and the first line of each.

My reading this month has been a bit slow; Susan Howatch’s Penmarric, at over 700 pages, took up at least a week, and I’ve also read The Countess, by Rebecca Johns, The Abyss, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles (another chunkster), Cranford, by Elizabeth Gaskell; and then I’m most of the war through Vile Bodies, by Evelyn Waugh, an immensely enjoyable novel that I’ve been dying to read for a while but was never quite in the right mood for. DJ Taylor’s book on the Bright Young People got me re-interested in Vile Bodies, and it’s quite over-the-top. Cranford also was a great book; as a reviewer on Librarything described it, the spinsters of Cranford are a lot like the Golden Girls! I think after Vile Bodies, my next read will be a Persephone—Making Conversation, perhaps? I’m really trying to ration the Persephones, since I’ve only got four left on my TBR shelves!

It’s been quite quiet around here; my parents have been away and I’ve been house sitting/dog-sitting. Today the dog, Teddy, and I went out for a long walk and then went to Braxton’s Animal Works, a pet store nearby. Teddy was in heaven! Now he’s passed out on my bed, lying next to me as I write this.

Review: The Tortoise and the Hare, by Elizabeth Jenkins

Pages: 252

Original date of publication: 1954

My edition: 1983 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: Amazon UK recommendation

How I acquired my copy: Ebay seller, July 2010

Imogen Gresham is 37, married to a very successful barrister. They have an eleven-year-old son, a rather beastly boy named Gavin. Imogen’s husband, Evelyn, develops a friendship with their neighbor, a wealthy fifty-something-year-old spinster named Blanche Silcox. She and Imogen are completely opposite; and it’s Evelyn’s relationship with Blanche that colors the whole tone of his relationship with his wife.

Imogen is a domestic, preferring home over hunting or any of the other country pursuits that her husband engages in. It’s partly due to this as well that their relationship becomes fraught with tension. They have nothing in common, so it’s really no wonder that Evelyn turns to an older woman (one much closer in age to him than Imogen is) for, at the very least, friendship. It’s an odd affair; usually the femme fatale is a younger, not some staid, aging spinster. So the whole dynamic of the novel shifts. It’s perfectly natural that Evelyn and Blanche should become friends; but their relationship isn’t wholly natural. I still can’t quite figure things out.

What I loved about this book was Imogen’s reaction to the whole affair; it’s because of it, and her discovery of what’s going on, that she grows and matures as a person. When I began to read this novel, Imogen more or less faded into the background; she really wasn’t compelling enough as a main character, and so I really didn’t become attached to her right away. But the more I read, the more I liked her. She displays a quiet strength as she faces Evelyn and Blache’s affair hat I found quite admirable. I don’t think that a lot of people in her situation, with her kind of personality, would have the strength to do what she does in the end. And she gets major points for putting up with Evelyn for all those years! Elizabeth Jenkins has been compared to Jane Austen and Barbara Pym; there’s less humor in The Tortoise and the Hare, but it’s still a wonderful novel.

Elizabeth Jenkins was a biographer who was best known for her biographies of Elizabeth I and Jane Austen. She passed away last month, aged 105.

Review: Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris and Mrs. Harris Goes to New York, by Paul Gallico

Pages: 306

Original date of publication:

My edition: 2010 (Bloomsbury Group)

Why I decided to read: I’m trying to read all of the Bloomsbury Group reprints

How I acquired my copy: Book Depository, June 2010

Technically, half of this book is a re-read; I read and reviewed Mrs. ‘Arris Goes to Paris in 2008, so I was thrilled when I found out that it would be reprinted along with Mrs. Harris Goes to New York. They are two stories in and of themselves, but Mrs. Harris Goes to New York is best read alongside Mrs. Harris Goes to New York.

I’ve noticed that the plots of the two stories in this book (more stories than novels, really) tend to conform to a certain formula: Mrs. Harris is a charming sixty-something-year-old woman who uses her forceful personality to charm and sometimes manipulate people and situations. Her adventures sometimes strain credulity, but I really enjoyed following her all over the world. Mrs. Harris is perhaps not very intelligent, but she’s very warm and I love that she’s able to manipulate people around her, oh-so-subtly. It’s always interesting to see how she’ll get out of her various predicaments—and you know she’ll always get out of them. A larger theme in both these novels is how does one deal with adversity, and overcome obstacles along the way?

Gallico’s novels about Mrs. Harris are very funny in many places. Considering that Paul Gallico was a sports writer, it’s amazing how much he knew about and researched high fashion. I wish that Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris had been a longer novel, though…

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“Benedict looked round, and saw a man trotting towards them, waving his hat and shouting. As he drew nearer, Benedict recognized the cob from Fleetham Manor that was used to go for letters, and the man lurching in the saddle with the unease of one who could not ride was the footman, William.”

--From The Abyss, by Cythia Harrod-Eagles

Review: The Countess, by Rebecca Johns

Pages: 285

Original date of publication: 2010

My edition: 2010 (Crown)

Why I decided to read: Heard about this through the Amazon Vine program

How I acquired my copy: Amazon Vine, September 2010

The Countess is a novel about Countess Erzebet Bathory, apparently the first female serial killer. In the early 17^th century, she was rumored to have murdered dozens of young women. As with many of these kinds of novels, the story is told from the Countess’s point of view, and it covers her life starting from when she was a small child and continuing up until her incarceration.

It’s an interesting subject, by my, does the author manage to make it boring. The novel focuses a lot on Erzebet’s early life, and the plot moves at a very, very slow pace. I don’t know a lot about Hungarian history, so the parts of this novel that dealt with that were extremely edifying; but this novel disappointed me in terms of plot. I was intrigued to find out how the Countess would explain her story, but it fell down in many places. I was expecting more horror and murder, something more sensational at any rate that focused more on the legend behind the woman. The cover is also a bit disappointing; looking at it, you might expect a gothic or horror story, belying what actually occurs in the plot of the book. It’s the kind of book that will appeal to some readers of historical fiction, but as a potential horror novel, not so much.

Review: William: An Englishman, by Cicely Hamilton

Pages: 226

Original date of publication: 1919

My edition: 2007 (Persephone)

Why I decided to read: Browsing the Persephone website

How I acquired my copy: Persephone subscription, February 2010

William: An Englishman is a bleak tale about William Tully, a young man who takes his honeymoon to Belgium on the eve of WWI. A naïve man, he is completely inexperienced and completely unprepared for what he is about to witness. He is a Socialist, and his wife, Griselda, a suffragette, so they are both rather idealistic as well. William and Griselda, have no idea about what’s going on in the outside world, and they make flippant comments about men playing at war while the war really begins in earnest around them.

This is a short novel, but a very powerful one, with an even more powerful message, about the difference between the horror of war and the naïveté of the main character. Cicely Hamilton wrote this novel sitting in a khaki tent during the war, so she understood as well as anybody the emotions that the war created. William’s despair as the novel goes on is almost palpable. I loved seeing the contrast between the pastoral, idyllic Ardennes, and the battlefront, and seeing how William reacts to it. I get the impression from reading this book that the author was rather angry while writing it; but it’s a controlled anger, that seethes just on the surface.

The other tragedy of William’s life is his physical size; he’s 5’5 (which isn’t that short, actually, just too short for the British military at the time she tried to enlist), and that emphasis on his physical size is what makes him all the more pathetic in the reader’s eyes. In all other ways, he is completely average. But given the way that life treats him in this book, you almost want to reach out and give him a hug. I loved watching William’s transformation; one that seems completely plausible. The author does jump from the beginning of the war to nearly the end; but she does it mostly to show how much the war has affected William. In all, this is an excellent novel—albeit a dark one.

This is Persephone no. 1. Endpaper below:

Review: The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, by Dorothy L. Sayers

Pages:

Original date of publication: 1928

My edition: 1998 (Harper Torch)

Why I decided to read: I felt like reading more Dorothy Sayers

How I acquired my copy: Barnes and Noble, April 2010

I’ve been meaning to read more Dorothy Sayers for a while; but when Susan hill mentioned it in Howards End is on the Landing, I knew that this had to be the next to read.

In the years just after WWI, an old military man (a veteran of the Crimea) dies in his club. Although it would seem that he died of natural causes, Lord Peter Wimsey determines that he was murdered; and he sets out to prove not only the time of death but the manner in which the General died. At stake is money, and who will inherit it.

Of her early Lord Peter mysteries, this one is undoubtedly Sayers’s best. She seems to have gotten better and better with each book she wrote, and she really perfected her art with this book. She deals with not only the petty stuff, but the larger things that were going on in he world at the time; in this novel, although WWI is ten years past, it’s still very much on people’s minds. George and Robert Fentiman, grandsons of the General, are perfect examples of this; George has been extremely affected by experiences in the trenches, while Robert escaped untouched.

Dorothy Sayers has a very subtle sense of wit; what I love about Lord Peter is his dryness. You almost have to be looking in order to find the humor in this book, but it’s well-worth it when you do. We learn more about Lord Peter’s experience during WWI and his relationship with Bunter, too—surely one of the most patient butlers in fiction.

Review: Every Secret Thing, by Emma Cole

Pages: 463

Original date of publication: 2006

My edition: 2007 (Allison and Busby)

Why I decided to read: I’m a fan of the author’s novels as Susanna Kearsley

How I acquired my copy: from the author, December 2009

Description from Amazon:

When an old man strikes up a conversation with her on the steps of St. Paul's and makes a mystifying mention of murder and an oddly familiar comment about her grandmother, Kate Murray is intrigued. But she never gets to hear the rest of Andrew Deacon's tale. Shocked by his unexpected death, she wonders whom this strange, old man is, and what the odd reference to her grandmother could mean. Interest piqued by the story never told, Kate becomes drawn into an investigation, uncovering secrets about the grandmother she thought she knew and a man she never did. Soon she is caught up in a dangerous whirlwind of events that takes her back into her grandmother's mysterious wartime past and across the Atlantic as she tries to retrace Deacon's footsteps. Finding out the truth is not so simple, however, as only a few people are still alive who know the story…and Kate soon realizes that her questions are putting their lives in danger. Stalked by an unknown and sinister enemy, and facing death every step of the way, Kate must use her tough journalistic instinct to find the answers from the past in order to have a future.

Every Secret Thing is novel that was written under Susanna Kearsley’s nom de plume, Emma Cole. This one is a bit different from her other books; rather than being a gothic romance, this is a spy story that divides its time between the present day and WWII. It’s not a straightforward spy novel, though, which is part of this novel’s charm. Our heroine is smart and plucky, but she’s not totally perfect. Although Matt’s identity was a bit transparent, there were parts of the plot of this novel that totally took me by surprise. I don’t usually read spy novels, but I thought that this one was excellent, with just the right amount of suspense thrown in. You also end up learning a lot of things about WWII, especially the Canadian involvement in it. Incidenttally, this is a great book to read in the early fall, since this book is set in the months of September/October….

Review: The Poison Tree, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Pages: 438

Original date of publication: 1994

My edition: 2006 (Sphere)

Why I decided to read: I’m in the process of reading through the Morland Dynasty series in order

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, January 2010

#17: 1831-33; covers reform and the reign of William IV

This installment of the series focuses on the period just after the post-war depression, taking its reader into the reign of William IV and the Reform movement. Jasper Hobsbawm is a supporter of the movement in Manchester, but his involvement leads to danger, both for him and Sophie. At Morland Place, Heloise is still grieving over the death of James, while her eldest son Nicholas forces his brother Benedict to find a job with the railway pioneers.

This is another really great addition to the Morland Dynasty series, with some excellent character development. Nicholas is of course the villain of the piece, but he’s not a stock character; and Benedict, while technically the “good” guy, isn’t completely perfect, which I really like about him. I kept wanting Heloise to finally see the truth about Nicholas, though; and I wanted Benedict to grow a backbone and call Nicholas out. Maybe he’ll get his chance in future books in the series? But it’s that side of Nicholas’s character that he keeps hidden that keeps things interesting.

As with the other books in the series, Cynthia Harrod-Eagles’s historical research is excellent. She really makes you root for the characters (seeing as how many of them appear in multiple books). I was a little disappointed, however, that rosamond took a backseat in this novel. I’m told that the next book in the series, The Abyss, deals primarily with Nicholas and Benedict’s story, so I’ll be fascinated to see how things turn out.

The Sunday Salon

Fall is here! I love it when the weather gets colder and you can start wearing fall clothing again—I haven’t bought very much this year due to the fact that I wear scrubs to work. But I did buy some black and gray dress pants, long-sleeved t shirts to wear under my scrubs, a cute top at Gap (I haven’t shopped there in ages, yet most of what I’ve bought this fall has been from there); and then I bought this jacket in the green (be careful; Piperlime is dangerous!). I know I really shouldn’t be buying new clothes, but before I literally had nothing to wear—nothing fit me anymore! So I think some rejuvenation in my closet is a good thing.

It’s been a busy week here, both at work and at home. At work we were preparing to get new carpet, so I spent the second half of the week packing up. On Friday our computers were dismantled and they came in to remove the furniture; so I was able to leave early. Friday was also closing day on my new apartment, so at lunchtime I went over to sign the documents. My new apartment is officially mine now! In the evening, my mom, dad and I went down to the apartment and had a picnic on the floor, while the sun set. The apartment, although empty and in need of a lot of work, looks great and I can’t wait to move in when the renovations are done! (with any luck, the renovations will take place over the next 6 weeks and I can move in by the end of November—hopefully).

September was a successful reading month—I read 12 books. Some of my favorites were taking Chances, by Molly Keane, William: An Englishman, by Cicely Hamilton, The tortoise and the Hare, by Elizabeth Jenkins, This Rough Magic, by Mary Stewart, and the Mrs. Harris goes To Pars/Mrs. Harries Goes to New York omnibus that was recently reprinted by the Bloomsbury Group. I enjoyed much less City of Light, by Lauren Belfer, a novel set in 1901 Buffalo. I’m currently reading Penmarric, by Susan Howatch. It’s a family saga set in the late 19^th century that’s loosely based on the lives of the Plantagenet brood. I’m a sucker for novels set in and around gothic mansions, so this one is right up my alley—and it’s very good.