Random Reads 2/17/23

February 17, 2023 by 2 Comments

Bellfield Hall by Anna Dean
The year is 1805. Dido Kent, unmarried aunt, is summoned to Bellfield Hall by her niece, Catherine, to look into the disappearance of Catherine’s wealthy betrothed, Richard Montague. Soon after her arrival, a woman turns up dead in the shrubbery. Dido makes inquiries into both matters while getting to know the residents and her fellow visitors.

There’s a quote from Anne Perry on the cover that says, “Characters one cares about immediately and a mystery that becomes more urgent with every page.” I regret to say this claim is false, at least in my personal experience, because this book took me nearly 2.5 years to finish. One of my major obstacles was that it took a very long time for the bevy of houseguests to resolve into distinct characters. For example, it was not until the 60% mark that three young women (including Catherine) display a personality characteristic beyond “flighty.”

Thankfully, the book does improve quite a lot after this point, with Dido helping two of the ladies avoid unwanted marriage proposals, and all the various clues coming together in a satisfying solution that I had not predicted. I also appreciated Dido’s naivete in certain areas. At one point, one of the guests, Colonel Walborough, confides that he stands to inherit his uncle’s fortune only if he gets married. He is simultaneously harassing a handsome young footman. Dido assumes he’s a womanizer because “she could think of no other irregularity in a man’s life for which marriage might be considered a cure.”

Despite the slog, I did like this well enough in the end that I will probably proceed to the next in the series. Let’s hope it does not take another 2.5 years to finish.

The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman
In The Bullet That Missed, the Thursday Murder Club is investigating the murder of Bethany Waites, a TV journalist whose car was found at the bottom of a cliff after she’d made a breakthrough in her investigation into a VAT fraud scheme. This brings them into the orbit of Mike Waghorn, Bethany’s former co-anchor, who loved Bethany because she helped him accept himself as a gay man, and Pauline Jenkins, Mike’s make-up artist, who soon becomes a new love interest for Ron. As a subplot, Elizabeth and Stephen are kidnapped by “the Viking,” who instructs Elizabeth to kill her old friend and former KGB agent, Viktor Illyich, or the Viking will kill Joyce.

There was much to like in this latest installment! Often with mysteries I have an inkling as to who the culprit is just by virtue of their function in the narrative, but this time I had no idea. I think that’s probably because Osman has a track record of introducing people doing crime and promptly turning them into recurring characters with insecurities and foibles. Connie Johnson, for example, returns here to help Ibrahim investigate a fellow inmate, one of the participants in the VAT fraud, while also receiving therapy from him that forces her to question whether she’s really all bad like she’s convinced herself. And when Ron questions Jack Mason, another VAT fraud participant, the latter is mostly just grateful to have someone to play snooker with again because he’s gotten old and lonely.

I continue to be charmed by the core gang of four. I think fussy and meticulous Ibrahim is probably my favorite, but Joyce’s diary entries make me laugh the most. The continuing mental deterioration of Stephen is deeply sad, but I love that glimmers of his brilliance still remain and that he was able to discover the Viking’s identity when not even Elizabeth had managed to do so. Really, my one quibble is that a new character is introduced to Coopers Chase, loves it, considers moving there and then, at the end of the book, doesn’t. Why not?

The unabridged audiobook I listened to concluded with an interview with Richard Osman in which he stated his intention to continue producing one of these books each year. Sir, thank you for your service. I am so here for it.

Double Tragedy by Freeman Wills Crofts
This is the 24th mystery by Freeman Wills Crofts to feature Chief Inspector Joseph French of Scotland Yard, and while I ordinarily very much dislike reading a series out of order, this is one of those times where that doesn’t really matter.

Originally published in the UK as The Affair in Little Wokeham (and soon receiving a reprint under that title), Double Tragedy begins by painting the portrait of a new family who has moved to the tiny village of Little Wokeham in Surrey and of the mild-mannered doctor who gets swept up in their affairs. Dr. Anthony Mallaby once had grand ambitions but an untimely illness thwarted his plans and though his village practice is successful enough, he still considers himself a failure. When he meets Christina Winnington, one of the new occupants of Hurst Lodge, he’s instantly taken by her honesty and kindness and falls in love over a period of months.

Hurst Lodge has actually been purchased by Christina’s uncle Clarence Winnington, a rich yet domineering man given to hurtful sarcasm, who has promised his nieces and nephew (Christina has two siblings, Bellisa and Bernard) each one-third of his estate if Christina and Bernard will keep house for him until he passes away. (Bellisa has married her former boss, saturnine Guy Plant.) Obviously, someone cannot wait for that to happen naturally, so the old fellow gets done in. Before French is called in to investigate, Dr. Mallaby, seeking to protect Christina’s happiness as much as possible, discovers and withholds evidence (a fountain pen, to my delight!) that he believes proves Bernard’s guilt.

This title is an inverted mystery, which means readers know the culprit from the outset and it’s just a matter of time while French puts the clues together. I liked a lot of the characters in this book and enjoyed reading chapters from various points of view. The ending is also very satisfying. However, if there’s one weakness in the narrative it’s in how the reader almost receives too much information. We are told practically everything about how the murderer commits his crimes, to the point where when one small piece is overlooked (the disposal of several specific incriminating items is mentioned but what about the other one?) one wonders if it’s supposed to be significant or not. Similarly, we go through every step of French’s thoughts where he leans one way then decides he is wrong over and over. I still really liked it and intend to read more by Crofts but now I understand why an adjective that seems to crop up a lot regarding this series is “plodding.”

Ladies with a Unicorn by Monica Stirling
I’m a big fan of the book blog Furrowed Middlebrow and have been enjoying Scott’s progress through the novels of Monica Stirling. When he declared that Ladies with a Unicorn is now his favorite of the lot, I had to track it down.

The setting is Rome in the early 1950s. Françoise Joubert is a composer who is presently working on a new film by Italian director Count Anton-Giulio Sarmento. She’s a withdrawn person—she both lost her husband (a resistance fighter arrested, tortured, and killed by the Germans) and sustained terrible facial injuries during the war—but is pulled into new social circles when a former classmate, Peggy Latour, unexpectedly arrives in Rome and requests they meet up. Later, Françoise meets 18-year-old Anna-Maria Minsell, who has flown in from London to star in Anton-Giulio’s film, and Princess Valeria Girafalcone, Anton-Giulio’s effusive cousin.

About two-thirds of the way through this I realized there actually isn’t much of a plot at all, but the novel remains fascinating despite that. It’s all about the female characters and, ultimately, their feelings for Anton-Giulio. Françoise has turned her face (expressionless and disconcerting after multiple surgeries) from the present and dwells in the sorrows of the past; Peggy is bored, her exciting war-time marriage turned bland; Anna-Maria is both sensible and sensitive; and Valeria is impassioned, theatrical, and maddening. Anton-Giulio is the unicorn of the title, often discussed but seldom appearing, like some mythical creature, and everyone has their own idea of the kind of person he is.

I enjoyed Stirling’s writing style very much. There were many turns of phrase to admire and absurd details to be delighted by—I hope I never forget the description of the stationery Valeria commissioned for one of her pet projects—mingled with reminders of terrible things that happened during the war. Anna-Maria is much affected by visiting the site of a particular atrocity and then returning to the city, where everyone is just going about their lives as usual. I had expected the novel to end in a more conventional way than it ultimately did, and I’m glad Stirling went in another direction because it really reinforced the idea that you can’t let the past continue to make you miserable forever. At some point, you’ve got to decide to keep living.

I’m very glad I read this and hope to read more by Stirling someday.

A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murder by Dianne Freeman
There are literally dozens of cozy historical mystery series featuring a plucky female sleuth, often a young widow, and for whatever reason they always appeal to me. (If I’m honest, part of the reason I was tempted by A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murder is that the cover is so cute.) I figured I’d start sampling them in hopes I’d find something I really like.

It’s April 1899 and American-born Frances Wynn, widowed Countess of Harleigh, has just endured the requisite one-year period of mourning after the death of her philandering husband, Reggie. Frances can no longer tolerate living with her husband’s family and obtains a house of her own in Belgravia. Her in-laws aren’t happy about this, as they had counted on using her money to fund repairs to Harleigh Manor. Frances relishes her newfound independence though is taken aback to discover that her new neighbor is George Hazelton, one of two people who knows that Reggie actually died in the bed of another woman.

Complications soon ensue. Inspector Delaney from the Metropolitan Police comes calling to ask questions about Reggie’s death, Frances’ brother-in-law files a claim to gain control of her money, and Frances’ mother sends her younger sister over from America with the expectation that Frances will find her a suitable husband. Also, there’s a jewel thief and George keeps being both helpful and hawt.

Dual mysteries run throughout—was Reggie actually murdered and who is the jewel thief? The first is solved in a thoroughly anticlimactic way with a sudden confession, though the latter does require at least a little investigative effort on Frances’ part. Unfortunately, one line of dialogue about 30% through gave away a large part of the solution for me. Too, I was bothered enough by seeming anachronisms to go into research mode several times. For most of these, I determined that the usage was at least potentially fine, but using the term “stalking” to refer to following someone in a menacing way is definitely more modern than 1899.

I wouldn’t say that this book is great, but I did find it entertaining. It’s a nice piece of fluff, and sometimes I appreciate that. I liked Frances and George and am interested enough that I shall proceed on to book two at some point.

Murder by Inches by Stanley Hopkins Jr.
I first became aware of this obscure title from 1943 through the delightful book blog crossexaminingcrime. A mystery in which cats figure prominently seemed like my sort of thing and, without much hope, I submitted an interlibrary loan request. To my surprise, a copy was found!

Murder by Inches is narrated by Angela Thorpe, a recent college graduate who is biding her time at home (Cheswick, NY) during the summer while she waits to start a teaching position in September. Her plans involve nothing more than reading Lucretius and Virgil and tutoring a local teen. Instead, when the owner of the local newspaper turns up dead and a charming newcomer, Peter Marrell, asks for her help after the police chalk it up to suicide, she gets roped into the investigation. The mystery itself is, alas, not terribly interesting, involving German efforts to sabotage a shipyard and hinder the American war effort, though it does allow for some fun escapades which frequently run toward breaking and entering. Also, there was a weird moment where the sleuths discuss in front of the shipyard owner that his wife had been seduced and blackmailed and he has zero reaction to this information.

However, I still enjoyed the book very much, which is due to the writing style and the prickly heroine. Angela is a scholar and mostly just wants to be left alone. Early on in the book, her attempts to read outdoors are repeatedly thwarted by Evelyn, the little girl who lives next door. Angela’s interactions with the girl reminded me a lot of a story in Allie Brosh’s Solutions and Other Problems.

(Click to enlarge.)

There are some great descriptions of side characters—“as unnoticeable as an apostrophe and made of the same general shape” and “a tall, angular woman who looks and moves like a poorly adjusted marionette”—and I also appreciated that Angela expresses frustration with being expected to follow Peter around while he looks for clues.

”I want to help, but I don’t want to have to trot about after you merely as a sort of observer. My time is as valuable as anyone’s, and I’m going home to get some work done. Let me know if I can really be of some use.”

Peter, infuriatingly, reacts as though this is funny. I never did warm to Peter, in fact, and though there is evidently a second book featuring his detection efforts, I am loathe to read it unless it’s also narrated by Angela. I am, however, very glad to have read this one!

My Own Worst Frenemy by Kimberly Reid
This series has been on my to-read list for a long time. A Black teen girl detective? Yes, please!

Chanti Evans is the daughter of an undercover cop. Though she and her single mom (Lana) live in a Denver neighborhood where admiration for the police is decidedly uncommon, Chanti still thinks it’s a cool job and prides herself on the detective skills that she’s learned from Lana. When Chanti makes a bad decision over the summer (involving her new friend, MJ, who previously spent some time in juvenile detention) Lana strives to keep her out of trouble by enrolling her at ritzy Langdon Prep rather than the regular high school the rest of her friends are attending. Unfortunately, Chanti and the other “scholarship kids” (including hunky love interest Marco Ruiz) are soon blamed for a series of thefts on campus and, later, some home burglaries.

There were good and bad things about this book, though the good does outweigh the bad. To begin with some negatives, we are told multiple times that Chanti notices everything. How, then, has she failed to notice that people usually require a writing implement while attending school? How then, did she immediately plow over some dude’s birdbath when tooling around in her friend’s BMW? It felt like her character was sacrificed to move the plot along. Another weird contradiction occurs when, on page 120, she tells her friend Tasha about the accusations at Langdon and requests Tasha not tell her mother. On page 124, Chanti volunteers all this information to her mother herself without an explicit change of heart. Perhaps another editorial pass might’ve caught and dealt with these contradictions.

That said, I quite liked how much Chanti seeks out Lana’s help with her investigation; it evoked some Keith/Veronica Mars feels. While some of the dialogue is clunky, several lines of Chanti’s internal monologue made me laugh, like when she refers to Tasha as “the weave whisperer” or, after committing the cardinal sin of letting Marco know she is hungry, tries to “think of something else I can do to let him know I’m a delicate flower.” Lastly, while it’s fairly easy to figure out some of the solution to the thefts and burglaries, there were aspects that I hadn’t been able to predict.

I also read the prequel short story “Looking for Trouble,” which rehashes and fleshes out Chanti’s aforementioned bad decision over the summer before she started at Langdon Prep. I didn’t like how it retconned a couple of things established in My Own Worst Frenemy, turning MJ from an inadvertent accessory to crime to an active participant in crime and having Chanti encounter Marco a couple of times at her summer job instead of meeting him for the first time on the first day of school. The additional detail on her neighborhood, though, was great and gave me a much better sense of Aurora Avenue and the people who live there.

A Night in the Lonesome October by Robert Zelazny
I was convinced to read this by an article on io9 and joined in on the fan ritual of reading one chapter per day throughout the month of October.

A Night in the Lonesome October is narrated by Snuff, a dog who is something more than just a dog. Snuff provides invaluable aid to his master, Jack, who is tasked with procuring various ingredients for a ritual happening at the end of the month known as “the Game.” (We are to presume he is Jack the Ripper, as he has both a wicked knife and a bloodlust curse, though perhaps they are one and the same.) Over the course of daily chapters we’re introduced to the other players in the Game and their animal companions, and eventually learn about the opposing factions and their goals. Characters like Dracula, Frankenstein, The Wolf Man, and Sherlock Holmes figure prominently. However, the standout character for me was Graymalk, cat companion to a witch named Jill.

Although I started off enjoying the amusing writing a good deal, around the middle I started to get bored. One of Snuff’s jobs is to triangulate the location of the ritual based on the residences of the participants, and he does this over and over as he receives new information. It grew monotonous. The real nadir, though, comes during an eye-glazingly dull excursion across a Lovecraftian dreamscape. After that, thankfully, things start to pick up again and I was genuinely invested until the conclusion, where several threads tie together in a satisfying way.

While I didn’t love the book as much as its ardent admirers do, I’d say that overall it’s pretty good. I wish it were spookier and that we learned more about Jack—the most intriguing of the human characters—but it was still fun to take part in the tradition.

The Push by Ashley Audrain
Maternal instincts have never run strong in Blythe Connor’s lineage. As a result, she doubts her own ability to be a good mother, but when her husband Fox is enthusiastic to start a family, she relents. Things don’t go well with their first child, a girl named Violet, and Blythe is miserable, exhausted, detached, and neglectful. She’s also convinced something is wrong with their daughter, while Fox ascribes any difficulties to Blythe herself. As Violet gets older, she torments her classmates and was also potentially responsible for a fatal playground accident. (Blythe suspects this is the case, but can’t be sure.) After a few years, Blythe conceives again, and this time her bond with her son Sam is immediate and strong. Unfortunately, it’s clear from the start that Sam is not long for this world.

I’ve seen The Push described as a thriller, but that’s not really accurate. It’s more of a psychological portrait of a mother with a traumatic past who can’t trust her own perceptions regarding her daughter’s possible sociopathy. At first, I wondered if I would be able to identify with a story that was so steeped in motherhood, as a person who has never had even the remotest desire to procreate. As it turned out, I identified with Blythe to an immense degree, as someone who suffers from anxiety, and is prone to think something is wrong when it isn’t… unless it actually is. I often doubt my own perceptions and have been told more than once that I’m making something out of nothing, as Fox tells Blythe.

Some aspects of the story are predictable (especially a name drop you know is going to develop a certain way later), but that didn’t bother me. I thought the portrayal of Blythe’s grief was agonizing (in a good way), and I really appreciated that she does some genuinely unhinged stuff, causing me to wonder whether she might be an unreliable narrator after all. On the negative side, because the whole book is told in the form of Blythe explaining her side of the story to Fox, we don’t gain access into anyone else’s thoughts, and as a result, I’m not entirely sure where Violet was coming from throughout. She claimed to hate her mother, but yet wanted to be wanted by her? I suppose those two things are not mutually exclusive.

Ultimately, although there are a few things I could quibble with, I thought The Push was excellent and engrossing. I look forward to reading more from this author!

lippman2To the Power of Three by Laura Lippman
Kat, Perri, and Josie had been friends since the third grade. But in their senior year of high school, a rift develops and Perri is no longer talking to the other two. Many speculate that it has something to do with Kat, only looking for more extracurricular activities with which to pad her college application, ending up with the lead in the school musical instead of Perri, the serious drama student. Neither girl will explain, not even to Josie, but nobody expects Perri to bring a gun to school and shoot Kat in the girls’ bathroom.

With Kat dead and Perri in a coma after turning the gun on herself, Josie is left to explain events to the police. Only, she’s used to letting Perri do the talking and her story is not adding up for the detectives, who note some discrepancies between Josie’s version of events and the physical evidence. Of course, we do get the whole story eventually. Some reviewers have been disappointed in the ending, but though some scenes are a little clunky—particularly one in which the lead detective makes a special trip to Josie’s house seemingly just to explain a detail about a locked stall door—I liked how it builds upon hints that Kat had never been as nice nor as perfect as people had believed her to be.

In between, we learn the history of the trio’s friendship and their interactions with some uncool farm girls, one of whom has a secret about the shooting, a fact that readers are reminded about approximately eleven times. We also learn about the idealistic young guidance counselor, the fractious relationship between Kat’s now-divorced parents, Perri’s friend from drama club who knew she had the gun but didn’t want to risk losing her friendship by telling anyone about it, and the recent college graduate with cinematic ambitions who used to date Kat and who is still strangely compelled to try to earn her father’s approval.

It’s a lot and it probably goes on a bit too long, but I did find it interesting and look forward to reading more Lippman in the future.

Filed Under: Books, Historical Fiction, Mystery, Random Reads, Reviews, Sci-Fi, Suspense, YA Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Jackaby, Books 1-4 by William Ritter

February 11, 2020 by Leave a Comment

jackaby1Jackaby
I’ve seen this series described as “Sherlock meets Doctor Who,” and that is pretty apt. It’s January 1892 and our plucky British narrator, Abigail Rook, has just arrived in New England and needs employment. No one is hiring except for the eccentric investigator, R. F. Jackaby, who is looking for a new assistant since his previous one is “currently waterfowl.” Jackaby’s physical description is evocative of Benedict Cumberbatch in character as Sherlock, and he’s occasionally tactless, but aside from one early demonstration, he doesn’t do much in the way of deduction. Instead, he’s more like The Doctor—a kooky, scarf-wearing fellow who dashes about warning townspeople of supernatural threats while they regard him as “a crackpot imbecile.” Abigail is, of course, the companion—a clever girl who has always longed for adventure but who has until now been denied it. Happily, there is no hint of romance between them.

In this first installment, Abigail and Jackaby work together to solve a series of murders afflicting a particular apartment building. Jackaby, of course, can tell the culprit is a creature of some sort while the policeman in charge scoffs at this assertion and, at one point, locks Abigail and Jackaby up for impeding his investigation. Although I liked the characters—especially Jenny Cavanaugh, the ghostly resident of Jackaby’s headquarters—the mystery portion of the book was sadly predictable. “Obvious culprit is obvious,” I wrote in my notes, and though I didn’t work out what sort of creature was to blame, another character’s bestial secret was no surprise.

Still, I did enjoy Jackaby and like the characters and tone well enough to continue. I do hope the next mystery is a little less transparent, though.

the-map“The Map”
This short story takes place on Abigail’s birthday. She’s been quite clear about not wanting a fuss, but Jackaby is determined that they will have an adventure. Their first stop is a magical market, which she doesn’t enjoy much, to Jackaby’s disappointment. While there, however, they pick up a treasure map and proceed to complete a series of challenges in search of the treasure buried by the notorious rogue, the Bold Deceiver.

“The Map” may not be an essential piece of reading, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. I especially liked the challenge in which they must get past the enormous hare guarding a castle—that one was sad and funny simultaneously. I also like that they’re not 100% successful with all the tasks, since centuries have passed since they were set up. On the whole, it’s worth checking out.

jackaby2Beastly Bones
It’s now the spring of 1892 and Jackaby and Abigail have been sent to the nearby town of Gad’s Valley to investigate thefts from a paleontological dig site. Abigail is mad for fossils, so is very excited about this prospect, while Jackaby must be convinced it’s worth their time. Another benefit is that Abigail gets to spend more time with Charlie the handsome policeman, for whom she has feelings, though she’s unsure what to do about him. Jenny the ghost has advised her to go for it and make the first move while Nelly Fuller, intrepid lady reporter, chastises her for thinking about love. “Do you want to be safe and happy or do you want to be great?”

As I had hoped, the mystery in Beastly Bones is a definite improvement over the first book; despite being a fine example of Chekhov’s Gun, its multiple layers made for a more complex case. Mostly, however, I liked that one aspect of it remains unsolved. Even though this series has Sherlockian elements, it hadn’t occurred to me that there’d be a Moriarty equivalent, but it looks like there is!

Still, the characters remain the main draw. Jackaby can be brash and insulting, but he doesn’t talk down to Abigail or treat her like a kid. I enjoyed his aversion to hearing about her romantic problems, and his awkward attempts to be sweet. “Buck up; you’re dreadful company when you’re melancholy.” Abigail continues to be resourceful and likable. And though there wasn’t much of Jenny, the ending finds her enlisting Jackaby to delve into her own murder. I’m very much looking forward to it!

jackaby3Ghostly Echoes
I’d really been looking forward to Ghostly Echoes and the truth behind Jenny’s murder, but it wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for.

True, Jenny’s murder is solved, but there is practically zero exploration of the person she was when she was alive. The plot is more about the evil council responsible (turns out that Moriarty-seeming character from previous books was only stirring things up to keep Jackaby busy so this group of dark fae could keep an eye on him) and the looming threat to mankind. Jenny did grow tremendously in both confidence and ability, and had a few genuinely badass moments in which she got to save her friends. I also appreciated her realization that she is more than a mere echo of the girl who died, but has her own thoughts and feelings. “I’m my own somebody.” I liked all of that, but I still wish she’d been the focus throughout instead of only in places.

Too, there’s not really much Jackaby, either. Yes, we learn about his childhood friend who was the Seer before him and how the council was after her too, but he just seems so… deflated. I guess it’s reasonable for him to be subdued given the case and its implications—he was worried that closure for Jenny might mean she’d move on—but I missed the humor he used to bring to situations. I reckon there shan’t be much of that in the next volume, either, in which our heroes face off against the bad guys and attempt to save the world.

The Dire King
The final entry in the Jackaby series wasn’t bad but, like the previous installment, certain character moments that I really wanted to see play out were completely glossed over.

Jackaby and company are trying to prevent the Dire King from destroying the veil that separates the Annwn and our world. This involves locating a particular magical artifact, attempting to destroy a diabolical machine, clashing armies, and lots and lots of fairies and magical creatures. I cannot possibly express how little interest I have in lots and lots of fairies and magical creatures.

There was at least more Jackaby here, and a somewhat warmer one, which I appreciated. I just wish there was much more about him and Jenny. She’s finally able to overcome her inability to touch him when his life is on the line, and there’s the suggestion that they’re going to live happily ever after once the crisis has been averted, but man, I really wish we’d gotten a scene where he pours his heart out and she scolds him for taking so long while also crying happily. Similarly, while I like where Abigail ultimately ends up, the very end is briefly pretty great but then it’s just… over.

I know cheesy epilogues get maligned pretty often, but in this case I would’ve appreciated one!

Filed Under: Books, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Mystery, Reviews, Supernatural, YA Tagged With:

Vagabond, Vols. 1-3

July 1, 2012 by 1 Comment

By Takehiko Inoue | Published by VIZ Media (first VIZBIG edition)

One of my goals for this Manga Moveable Feast was to finally read some of Vagabond. I’ve been collecting the VIZBIG editions since they started coming out, which means there were ten of these on my shelf (with their spines forming a group portrait) unread. Now that I finally have read some of Vagabond, I’ve found it so different from the Inoue I’m familiar with—and yet containing some of the same themes—that I’m rather at a loss for words.

Shinmen Takezo is the son of a legendary swordsman, though we don’t really find that out until volume three. Since the age of thirteen, when he killed a man who came to Miyamoto village looking to challenge its strongest occupant, he’s been ostracized by all save a couple of childhood friends and he’s recently been off to battle with one of them, Hon’iden Matahachi. They both survive a bloody battle, but Matahachi takes up with a thieving widow, leaving Takezo to return to Miyamoto with tidings of Matahachi’s survival.

To make a long story very short: Takezo meets with an unfriendly welcome and is manipulated by a clever monk named Takuan into reevaluating his life. Four years later, now going by the name Miyamoto Musashi, he shows up in Kyoto looking to challenge the head of the Yoshioka sword school, and though he defeats many of their members, he learns there are still those stronger than him. A drunken Matahachi accidentally sets the blaze that allows Musashi to escape, and the VIZBIG ends with him realizing that the old friend he left for dead might actually have survived.

Even though I knew this was about swordsmen, I somehow didn’t expect it to be as gory as it is. There are a lot of death blows being dealt here, as Musashi is obsessed with measuring/proving his strength against others and willing to sacrifice his life to this aim. That said, at times the art is absolutely gorgeous, and there are a few color pages that look like bona fide paintings. The scope, layout, and pacing of the story all lend it a cinematic feel that is genuinely impressive. There’s one scene early on, when Musashi turns around to face the one opponent left standing and it’s genuinely terrifying.

But yet, I mostly found it unaffecting. I expect there will be more insight into the main character as time progresses, but for now he’s so closed off, so proud of his strength and being hailed a demon that I can’t grow fond of him or endorse his goals. I have a feeling I’m not supposed to. I did identify with Matahachi a lot, though, especially his inferiority complex in regards to his friend and his inability to follow through with the heroic deeds he imagines himself performing. I like Otsu, the fiancée Matahachi left behind, and I’m intrigued by Takuan, the monk. I’ll keep reading for them, if nothing else.

One thing about Musashi reminds me a lot of Hisanobu Takahashi in Real. As a child, Hisanobu was attempting to master a particular basketball move that his father showed him. He worked very hard on it, but was never able to show his father because the latter abandoned the family. Musashi has also been abandoned by his mother and shunned by his father, and part of his drive to test himself seems due to the desire to show them his strength, show them that he doesn’t need to depend on anyone else. Musashi is a real historical figure, not a character Inoue created, but it seems like he’s drawn to these confident yet wounded types.

Ultimately, I can see why Vagabond is hailed as a masterpiece, and I will certainly keep reading it, but my heart will always belong to Inoue’s sports manga, Slam Dunk in particular. The heart wants what the heart wants!

Vagabond is published in English by VIZ Media. Single volumes up through 33 have been published, as well as ten “VIZBIG” editions comprised of three volumes each. An eleventh VIZBIG edition is scheduled to be released in December. Inoue has recently resumed the series in Japan, so the upcoming release of volume 34 (October) will be the first new Vagabond released in English in two years.

Filed Under: Historical Fiction, Manga, Reviews, Seinen Tagged With: ,

A Spy in the House by Y. S. Lee

June 4, 2011 by Leave a Comment

From the back cover:
Mary Quinn leads a remarkable life. At twelve, an orphan and convicted thief, she was miraculously rescued from the gallows. Now, at seventeen, she has a new and astonishing chance to work undercover for the Agency.

It is May 1858, and a foul-smelling heat wave paralyzed London. Mary enters a rich merchant’s household to solve the mystery of his lost cargo ships. But as she soon learns, the house is full of deceptions, and people are not what they seem—including Mary herself.

Review:
As a convicted thief, twelve-year-old Mary Lang is about to be executed when she is saved by the ladies of Miss Scrimshaw’s Academy for Girls. There, she receives an education and by the age of seventeen is teaching other students the skills they will need to be independent. Trouble is, she’s not satisfied and the few other career options open to her gender don’t interest her much, either. When she mentions this to the two women running the school, they suggest another alternative: the Agency.

The Agency is a covert organization of female spies, operating under the assumption that because women are presumed to be flighty and empty-headed, their agents will be able to retrieve information more easily than a man might, particularly in situations of domestic servitude. Mary quickly agrees, despite the threat of danger, and soon finds herself serving as paid companion to spoiled Miss Angelica Thorold, whose merchant father is suspected of dealing in stolen Hindu goods.

Mary (now using the surname Quinn) isn’t the lead on the investigation and isn’t supposed to actually do much of anything, but she gets antsy, and in the process of snooping meets James Easton. James’s older brother desperately wants to marry Angelica, but James has heard rumors about her father’s business practices, and so is doing some sleuthing of his own to determine whether a family connection would be unwise. He and Mary form a partnership and spend most of the book poking about in warehouses and rest homes for aging Asian sailors and following people on foot or in carriages while maintaining a flirty sort of bickering banter.

Author Y. S. Lee tries to make the mystery interesting, giving us a bit of intrigue between Angelica and her father’s secretary as a distraction, but ultimately it feels very insubstantial to me. Nothing much comes as a surprise and two story elements that could’ve been highlights—Mary’s month-long intensive training and Scotland Yard’s raid on the Thorold house—occur off camera! Too, Mary is harboring a secret about her parentage which is thoroughly obvious: she’s part Asian. Only towards the end did Lee actually make clear that Mary is keeping this a secret from others because of the foreigner bias of the time, and I must wonder whether the intended young adult audience was reading this going, “What’s the big deal?”

Not that it isn’t nifty to have a part-Asian heroine, of course. Mary is competent and level-headed, though I admit I did get irritated by how often she is favorably compared to “ordinary women,” who would scream or faint in situations in which Mary is able to keep her head. When a mystery stars a male sleuth, do we need to hear over and over how much smarter he is than the ordinary fellow? I don’t think so. On the flip side, the overall theme of the book seems to be “don’t understimate women,” and Mary finds time to inspire a scullery maid to seek out Miss Scrimshaw’s and to convince Angelica to pursue a musical career.

In the end, A Spy in the House is a decent read. It’s not perfect, but I still plan to read the second book in the series in the near future.

Additional reviews of A Spy in the House can be found at Triple Take.

Filed Under: Books, Historical Fiction, Mystery, Triple Take, YA Tagged With:

Right Here, Right Now! 1-2 by Souya Himawari

April 20, 2011 by Leave a Comment

This time travel historical romance is actually a lot more rational than one would expect. Unfortunately, the romance is the least successful element of the story.

You can find my review for BL Bookrack here.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: Boys' Love, Historical Fiction, Manga Tagged With: , ,

Rurouni Kenshin 1-6 by Nobuhiro Watsuki: B+

March 13, 2011 by Leave a Comment

It feels like I last read Rurouni Kenshin eons ago, even though it’s only been five years since the US edition came to an end. The siren call of a potential reread has been increasing in volume lately and finally, I could take it no more. Joined by my friend and fellow Kenshin fan, K, I’m yielding to temptation and diving back in! Over the course of the next few months, I’ll be reviewing the entire series, starting with the individual volumes and finishing up with the final VIZBIG edition, which contains some bonus material not included in the series’ original run. You can find an archive of both K’s and my Kenshin posts at Triple Take.

To summarize the general premise, during the Bakumatsu era a skilled young swordsman named Himura Kenshin fought on the side of the ishin shishi (pro-Emperor) patriots and earned the nickname hitokiri battōsai (essentially: a manslayer who has mastered the art of battōjutsu) before vanishing and becoming a figure of legend. While many of the ishin shishi eventually took up powerful positions in the new Meiji government, Kenshin was not interested in profiting thus from his actions, since he had fought only with the aim of providing a more peaceful future for Japan’s people. Instead, he becomes an unassuming rurouni (wandering samurai) and wields his sakabatō (a reverse-blade katana nearly incapable of killing) on behalf of those needing his help.

Before commencing this reread, my recollection was that Rurouni Kenshin gets good in volume seven, when one of Kenshin’s old enemies (the awesome Saitō Hajime from the pro-Shogunate Shinsengumi) pays him a visit. It turns out, though, that that’s not exactly true, since the first two volumes are very good.

The story begins in Tokyo during the eleventh year of the Meiji era (1879 or thereabouts). As he travels through the city, Kenshin is accosted by Kamiya Kaoru, the feisty instructor of Kamiya Kasshin-ryū (a school of swordsmanship that emphasizes non-lethal techniques), who is searching for the murderer who has tarnished the name of her school (and driven away its students) by claiming to be one of its devotees. Kenshin helps out, since this fellow is also claiming to be the hitokiri battōsai, and during the course of events, Kaoru discovers some of his violent past. Still, she asks him to stay, saying, “I don’t care who you used to be!” He agrees to stay put a while and moves into the dojo.

Like any good shounen series, our hero needs a band of friends, so volume two sets about fulfilling that requirement. The first addition to the cast is Myōjin Yahiko, an orphaned boy of samurai lineage who has been forced to steal in order to survive. He becomes Kaoru’s first student, and though somewhat obnoxious at first, he matures a lot in a short time, especially after he gets confirmation that all the training is paying off. Next is Sagara Sanosuke, “the fight merchant,” who was once a member of a civilian army that was betrayed by the ishin shishi. He has been hired to fight Kenshin, but realizes the rurouni is different from the other, corrupt patriots and ends up becoming his right-hand man.

In addition, much is made during these first two volumes about the Meiji government not delivering on many of its promises. Watsuki also works on building the relationship between Kenshin and Kaoru, showing the former contentedly helping out with the chores and the latter putting herself at risk when Kenshin is challenged by another former hitokiri simply because she’d rather be in danger than be alone again. It’s significant that when the battle triggers Kenshin’s battōsai mode, Kaoru is the one who prevents him from killing his opponent, for which Kenshin is profoundly grateful.

Volumes three and four are not quite as good, but close. I just can’t summon much interest in Takani Megumi, a woman from a long line of doctors who was coerced into making opium for a greedy industrialist, and she frustrates me by attempting to take her own life after Kenshin and Sanosuke have weathered some tough fights attempting to rescue her. Still, the introduction of Shinomori Aoshi, a former guard of Edo castle who is bitter about not seeing any fighting during the war, is significant, and the fates of his less-able-to-move-on-with-their-lives companions are compelling.

Where the story really sags, though, is in volumes five and six. Watsuki’s sidebars are full of comments like he can’t believe the series is still ongoing, how much work it is, and how certain stories were written “during a period of extreme exhaustion.” I must say that it shows. First, Yahiko defends a young girl named Tsubame against some dudes who are making her an accomplice to a burglary. Then a swordsman tries to recruit Kenshin to the cause of reviving a more lethal version of “the Japanese art of swords.” Lastly, Sano encounters a former comrade from his army days and must decide whether to participate in his anti-government plans. Zzz. Volume six, in particular, was a bit of a slog to get through.

Artistically, Watsuki’s style is attractive, featuring quite a few bishounen characters (somewhat to his apparent dismay, this results in a lot of female fans) as well as bizarre-looking ones. It takes a few volumes for the characters’ looks to settle down, and sometimes the metamorphosis is even faster (Aoshi looks a good bit different even just two chapters after his original appearance, though he’s still immediately recognizable.) One thing I find slightly weird is how often Watsuki openly admits to borrowing character designs from other sources (though in at least one case he specifies that he had the original artist’s permission to do so). Tsubame, for example, appears to be an exact replica of Tomoe Hotaru from Sailor Moon.

So, to sum up… Kenshin starts strong, but gradually falters, culminating in the rather boring volumes five and six. Take heart, though, because if memory serves, volume seven is truly fabulous, and sets off the Kyoto arc, which most Kenshin fans will probably name as their favorite part of the series. I’ll be reviewing the first half of it next time, so watch this space!

Filed Under: Historical Fiction, Manga, Shounen, Triple Take Tagged With: ,

Barefoot Gen 1 Keiji Nakazawa: B

February 18, 2011 by 4 Comments

From the back cover:
Barefoot Gen is the powerful, tragic story of the bombing of Hiroshima, seen through the eyes of the artist as a young boy growing up in a Japanese anti-militarist family. Of particular interest is Barefoot Gen‘s focus on family in a militarized culture, and the special problems which they encounter. Barefoot Gen brings home the reality of an event in our history which we must never allow to happen again.

Review:
Barefoot Gen is a largely autobiographical, slightly fictionalized account of a young boy’s perspective of the bombing of Hiroshima. It’s drawn in a cartoony style reminiscent of Osamu Tezuka, and puts the experiences of the Nakaoka family into broader historical context.

My initial reactions to the first volume of Barefoot Gen made me feel like a bad person. I had expected to instantly like Gen and the Nakaoka family, but found them very difficult to sympathize with at first. Part of the problem for me is what Art Spiegelman describes in his introduction as “casual violence.” Certainly in a series about war and the aftermath of an atomic bomb, I expected there to be some disturbing imagery. I did not expect, though, that the members of a “peace-loving family” like the Nakaokas would be so violent themselves.

Daikichi Nakaoka, the father of the clan, is outspoken about his opposition to the war, which makes him and his family the target of much harrassment by their neighbors. You’d think that being against the war would mean that Daikichi is opposed to violence in general, but that’s not true. I lost count of how many times he smacks someone (usually a child) and sends him or her sprawling into a wall. This tendency for violence extends to his wife (who brandishes a knife on several occasions) and his youngest sons (who twice gnaw off the fingertips of admittedly odious people).

It got to the point where I actively began heckling them! Heckling the victims of a nuclear holocaust!

When the family’s wheat field—upon which they were relying as a future food source—is trampled, Daikichi cries, “Who in the hell would do such a thing?”

My response: “Uh, everyone?”

After Kimie, Gen’s mother, holds his eldest brother Koji at knifepoint because he wants to join the navy and thereby improve public opinion of his family, Daikichi says, “The fool. He doesn’t have to go off and get killed in the war.”

My response: “He can get killed right here at home!”

Just when I was sure I was going to the special hell, however, things began to improve. Koji’s decision to enroll in the Naval Air Corps somehow triggers a better meld between the tone of the story and how the characters behave. Gen, who is initially merely an excitable kid who doesn’t think too much about what he says or does, begins to grow up a bit and becomes much more sympathetic as a result.

My favorite part of the volume is when Gen discovers his younger brother, Shinji, humiliating himself for an opportunity to play with another kid’s toy battleship. He puts a stop to it, and when he spots another toy battleship in the window of a glass repair shop, attempts to buy it. While he’s waiting to talk to the owner—who tells him it belonged to his dead son and isn’t for sale—he overhears him being threatened by men to whom he owes money and decides to help out, Gen-style, which entails throwing rocks and breaking tons of windows to bring in business. The owner is so grateful he bestows the ship on Gen as a gift, who generously turns it over to Shinji. They make plans to take it down to the river the next day.

Except that the next day is August 6, and that’s when the bomb hits. This whole sequence is truly stunning, and actually included a few historical facts I didn’t know, like how the Enola Gay returned after the air raid sirens had ceased and that the casualties were greater because people thought the danger had passed and emerged from their bomb shelters. It’s also interesting how Nakazawa puts the blame for everything squarely on the Japanese leaders. Even from the start, he’s referring to the war as something “that Japan began with the USA and England.” He’s critical of the government’s refusal to surrender while they’re not the ones suffering, starving, and losing loved ones. The casualty totals are truly overwhelming, and for what? It makes me wonder if the leaders’ stubbornness was some kind of remnant of samurai pride…

Although it was tough going at the beginning, by the end of this volume I was genuinely excited to continue reading the series. I do feel it’s something that’s going to be best in small doses, however. And let’s hope the days of gratuitous finger-chomping are behind us!

Barefoot Gen is published in English by Last Gasp. All ten volumes have been released.

For more on this series, check out the Manga Moveable Feast archive at A Life in Panels.

Filed Under: Historical Fiction, Manga, MMF, Shounen Tagged With:

The Green Glass Sea by Ellen Klages: A-

October 22, 2010 by Leave a Comment

From the back cover:
It is 1943, and while war consumes the United States and the world, eleven-year-old Dewey Kerrigan lives with her father in a town that—officially—doesn’t exist: Los Alamos, New Mexico. Famous scientists and mathematicians, including Dewey’s father, work around the clock on a secret project everyone there calls only “the gadget.” Meanwhile, Dewey works on her own mechanical projects, and locks horns with Suze Gordon, a budding artist who is as much of a misfit as she is. None of them—not J. Robert Oppenheimer, the director of the Manhattan Project; not the mathematicians and scientists; and least of all, Dewey and Suze—knows how much “the gadget” is about to change their lives…

Review:
Eleven-year-old Dewey Kerrigan is used to being apart from her father. She’s been living in St. Louis with her grandmother while he’s off doing “war work,” but a sudden stroke renders Nana unable to care for Dewey any longer. With the whereabouts of her absentee mother unknown, Dewey is packed up and sent halfway across the country to the officially nonexistent town of Los Alamos, New Mexico where her father is a physicist working on what the residents of “the hill” refer to only as “the gadget” but which is actually the atomic bomb.

Dewey isn’t like ordinary girls. She’s fascinated by science, especially radios and other mechanical gizmos, and doesn’t make any attempts to fit in. Still, she’s got a lot of independence on the hill and there are many adults nearby to answer her questions and help with her various projects, so she’s reasonably happy, if a little lonely, what with Papa spending most of his time in his lab.

Her classmate, Suze Gordon, isn’t like ordinary girls, either, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to get them to like her. Unfortunately, like most awkward preteens in this position (and, believe me, Suze’s efforts conjured up some depressing sixth-grade memories of my own!), Suze’s attempts to fit in never work out. For a significant portion of the book she’s not very likable, and mounts a sullen resistance when, a little over a year after Dewey’s arrival on “the hill,” Dewey’s dad travels to Washington and leaves his daughter in the care of his friends, the Gordons.

Friendship does not automatically ensue between the two girls, but after Suze undertakes one last attempt to be cool—victimizing Dewey in the process—President Roosevelt dies and suddenly she realizes how shameful her behavior has been. Slowly, the girls bond and at this point the book finally becomes so good I wished for it to be quite a bit longer! The girls are delighted to finally have someone with whom they can share ideas on their projects—scientific ones for Dewey and artistic ones for Suze—and love of geeky pursuits. I hadn’t realized how hard it was to be a girl geek in the ’40s! Inevitably, the popular girls get wind of their friendship, and Suze is placed in a position where she must make a choice and makes the right one without a second’s hesitation.

Alas, all good things must end. Suze’s mother, normally so adept at being a good maternal figure in Dewey’s life, completely and utterly fails to realize when Dewey’s upset about something quite significant, leading to a particularly ridiculous bout of miscommunication and misunderstanding.

In the end, I enjoyed The Green Glass Sea quite a lot. I liked Dewey all along (though I was less keen on the bizarre shifts in verb tense the narrative underwent when switching to her perspective) and warmed up to Suze eventually. I was immensely glad to learn there’s a sequel, White Sands, Red Menace, and shall be reading it soon!

For additional reviews of The Green Glass Sea, please visit Triple Take.

Filed Under: Books, Children's Fiction, Historical Fiction, Triple Take

Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos by R. L. LaFevers: B-

August 26, 2010 by Leave a Comment

From the back cover:
“Frankly, I’m not fond of surprises, as ones around here tend to be rather wicked.”

For poor Theodosia, however, surprises abound. She spends most of her time at the Museum of Legends and Antiquities in London. There, all the artifacts that her parents dig up around the world are put on display and studied. But what her parents can’t see—and what Theodosia can—is the curses and black magic still attached to the ancient pieces. And it’s up to Theo to keep it all under control. Quite a task for an eleven-year-old girl!

Then Theo’s mother brings home the Heart of Egypt—a legendary amulet belonging to an ancient tomb. Theodosia’s skills will certainly be put to the test, for the curse attached to it is so vile and so black, it threatens to bring down the entire British Empire! Theodosia will have to call upon everything she’s ever learned in order to prevent the rising chaos from destroying her country—and herself!

Review:
Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos is like a sandwich. You might assume I mean that it starts and ends strong but has a disappointing middle, but I actually mean just the opposite.

1906, London. Theodosia Throckmorton, age eleven, is cleverer than most. Her parents work at the Museum of Legends and Antiquities, specializing in Egyptian artifacts. Theodosia claims many of these items are cursed, though no one else ever notices this fact, and describes the spell preparations she uses to nullify the curses before they do any damage. For a while, I regarded her as an unreliable narrator because I couldn’t tell whether we were supposed to believe that this was all true or if it was all an elaborate game of make-believe devised by an intelligent, lonely girl; many of her spells involve rather mundane ingredients like bits of string, after all.

When confirmation of the existence of curses as well as Theodosia’s talent for detecting them comes from adults in The Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers, I began to enjoy the story much more. She gets involved with the Brotherhood after tracking men whom she suspects of having stolen the valuable artifact the Heart of Egypt from her parents’ museum. It turns out that this artifact brings a curse upon the nation responsible for removing it from its tomb and that Germans facilitated its removal by Theodosia’s mother in order to bring chaos upon Britain. To forestall plagues, famine, and the like it must be returned to its original resting place. The whole middle section, in which Theodosia enlists the aid of her little brother and a pickpocket named Sticky Will to get back the Heart of Egypt is pretty entertaining, if improbable.

Alas, things take a turn for the ridiculous when the leader of The Brotherhood asks the eleven-year-old Theodosia to convince her parents to take her to Egypt so that she can put the Heart of Egypt back where it belongs. And she can’t tell them what’s up or have any backup, since all the other Brotherhood agents are injured or elsewhere. Nevermind that a group of murderous Germans wants it back or anything. The final few chapters are pretty tiresome, full of scenes of evading the bad guys and Theodosia reminding readers over and over of her assigned task. Everything wraps up exactly as one would expect, of course.

Another thing that bothered me a lot at first was the writing. A superfluous mention of “frocks and pinafores” gave off the distinctive aroma of “someone trying really hard to sound British,” so I checked and, yes, LaFevers is an American. After a while it ceased to bother me as much, but every time Theodosia said “smashing” I did cringe a bit inside.

I went from being dubious, to being pleased, to being rather bored throughout the course of this story. There are currently two more books in the series, with a fourth due out next spring, and at first I thought I wouldn’t bother with them, then I thought I would, and now I am not sure. There’s definitely a lot of potential here, but the execution is uneven. Perhaps what is needed is for Theodosia to have a team to work with; those parts were much more interesting than when she was alone. Now that she’s become an honorary member of the Brotherhood and grown closer to her brother, such an outcome seems possible. I suppose this means I’ve convinced myself to read at least one more and see how it goes.

More reviews of Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos can be found at Triple Take.

Filed Under: Books, Children's Fiction, Historical Fiction, Supernatural, Triple Take

Betsy-Tacy by Maud Hart Lovelace: A

July 31, 2010 by 7 Comments

From the back cover:
There are lots of children on Hill Street, but no little girls Betsy’s age. So when a new family moves into the house across the street, Betsy hopes they will have a little girl she can play with. Sure enough, they do—a little girl named Tacy. And from the moment they meet at Betsy’s fifth birthday party, Betsy and Tacy become such good friends that everyone starts to think of them as one person—Betsy-Tacy.

Betsy and Tacy have lots of fun together. They make a playhouse from a piano box, have a sand store, and dress up and go calling. And one day, they come home to a wonderful surprise—a new friend named Tib.

Review:
Although I’ve been meaning to read the Betsy-Tacy series for several years, I didn’t really know what to expect. That is, I knew it was the story of two life-long friends, but I didn’t know that it would be written so fondly, so amusingly, or depict life as anything but rosy for these two girls.

Betsy Ray has no girls her age to play with until bashful Tacy Kelly moves in across the street. Tacy’s shyness prevents them from becoming friends immediately, but once they bond at Betsy’s fifth birthday party, they’re inseparable. A lot of the book is devoted to the various imaginative ideas they come up with to entertain themselves, whether it’s coloring sand to sell to other children or pretending to drive the family surrey to the exotic realm of… Milwaukee.

Much of the book is quite amusing, especially the stories Betsy makes up. I’m particularly fond of the one featuring a talking horse with a hankering for some doughnuts. I was pleasantly surprised when things took a more serious turn: Tacy is one of many children and the youngest, “Baby Bee,” dies after an illness. There’s a really wonderful scene where Betsy’s storytelling abilities help cheer Tacy up. Later, when Betsy is upset over the birth of a new, “perfectly unnecessary” sibling, Tacy takes up the role of comforter. It might not sound like much by way of drama, but both instances manage to be charming and a little bittersweet at the same time.

Betsy-Tacy would be a great book to read aloud to elementary students, particularly an audience comprised of girls. My brother and his fiancée need to hurry up and give me a niece so I can read this to her.

Filed Under: Books, Children's Fiction, Historical Fiction Tagged With:
Next Page »