Jan 28 2016

An Interview with James Roberts, author of Pardon Me: A Victorian Farce

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Q: Every book has its own story about how it came to be conceived and written as it did. How did Pardon Me evolve?

Pardon Me began life as an idea for a short story. I wanted to invent a rubbish British diplomat whose ineptitude would be the cause of many of history’s real calamities. This would be a man  who would almost single-handedly bring down the British Empire and in doing so be inadvertently popular with nationalists and freedom fighters everywhere. The first short story, however, got a little out of hand and ended up being a full-blown novel. As a one time historian I am understandably interested in historical cause and effect. I liked the idea of messing with this a little. Pardon Me brings together the two great crises that knocked Pax Britannica for six in the year 1895 (and New Years Day 1896). One was a badly thought out colonial adventure known as the Jameson Raid and the other was the sentencing of Oscar Wilde. Neither was very funny on the surface, I grant you, but I made the first into a cricket match, the second a severe case of mistaken identity, and both the fault of one badly schooled and heroically inept individual. It’s called ‘Pardon Me’ because the story is presented in the form of an epistolary: a plea for clemency from a condemned man to his queen – with a few telegrams, notes and a play gummed in between the pages for good measure.  

Q: Do you write with any particular audience in mind? Are there any particular audiences you hope will connect with this story?

Not consciously, no. Or at least not to begin with. I think as the novel progressed I started to become aware of an imaginary reader who would get some bits, like the historical references,  and need other bits signalling and elucidating. I suppose I wrote the book primarily with the aim of entertaining myself and making myself laugh; the hope being that a few other people around the globe would share my poor taste.

Q: What is the first book you read that made you think, “I have got to write something like this someday!”

That’s a tough one, mostly because if I find a book really good I also tend to conclude I could never write anything that good and it puts me off the activity full stop. The first book that I read where the quality of the writing was inspirational was To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, but I soon disabused myself of any pretentions to write that well, or that head-hurtingly metaphysically for that matter. As I’ve got older my favourite novels have been the ones that combine good writing, intelligence and extreme silliness. So I would have to say that anything by PG Wodehouse makes me want to put pen to paper, if only to get somewhere close to his shadow.

Q. How did you learn to write?

I am still learning! I studied history at university and then wrote a thesis so I suppose that’s where the mechanics of writing were drummed into me. But after that I would say trial and error. Although if you are one of my copywriting clients then rest assured I mean inherent genius.

Q: Do you adhere to any particular writing regimen?

I tried to treat writing the novel as I would any other writing task. Start around 9am and work till teatime. My brain goes to sleep a few hours before my body does and even as a young student I found working at night just tended to turn up a pile of unreadable nonsense. So I try to set aside whole days for my own writing, in between the stuff for other people.

Q: Are you a pantser (someone who writes by the seat of their pants) or a plotter? Given the complexity of Pardon Me, I imagine the latter, but I’m prepared to be surprised!

Sorry to let you down, but I plot like hell until I am certain of everything that is going to happen. I am big on plot, which I think is essential to comic farce. I really love the challenge of putting characters into impossibly sticky situations and then somehow rescuing them – or some of them.

Q: Johannesburg and its environs are described with a critical fondness that echoes my own memories of South Africa. What has been your own experience with that part of that world?

Purely from books I am afraid. As a student and as a lecturer I was always really fascinated by the whole colonial set up and that very British habit of trying to replicate home in the strangest of places. I read some old memoires by colonial officers and a few histories that gave the indigenous population’s side of the story. I then decided to exaggerate the rather rapidly thrown up nature of late nineteenth-century Jo-berg and make it a city of tents and corrugated iron huts. Sad to say that some parts of the city still look like that.

Q: My favorite line in the entire book is this:

Where the English public school system had really let the Empire down was in producing a generation of Englishmen that spoke in blasted euphemisms all the bally time!

As half the fun in Pardon Me has to do with wordplay and innuendo, how seriously do you take this cri de coeur yourself?

Well we Brits used to be famous for understatement and euphemisms. Parts of that culture, I think, were quite laudable: the old ‘stiff upper lip’ thing where you bore hardship without making a fuss. But I think there was also an unspoken code which prevented too many imperialists and colonial adventurers from asking “is this really good for anyone else but us?”  So they hid their selfishness and occasional brutality behind phrases like “the natives have been getting uppish” when what they really meant was “they were trying to stop us nicking their country so we shot them.”  And of course, no one ever mentioned sex, despite the population doubling in a few generations, so somebody must have been doing it.

Q: What can you tell us about your next project?

I haven’t quite got the time at the moment to contemplate another full blown novel and I have been aching to try my hand at radio comedy for some time. So my next project is going to be a script for radio. But I am always writing down nascent ideas and I have this reincarnated rabbit that wants to start an adventure and refuses to go away, so we shall see.

Q: Your website (http://www.jamesroberts.scot/) is a thing of comic beauty. I especially like how you discussed the way you researched writing the lingo of Pardon Me, by reading extensively of books of the period. Any gems you can recommend, both in terms of style and quality, to readers needing something to read while awaiting your next novel?

Thank you, I am flattered. I tried to write a sort of ‘anti-social media’ website, which is bloody hypocritical if you think about it! What I find is that latter Victorian writers could really write. Very leaden, detail rich prose that most readers today would put down after a few pages. But there are one or two that transcend the generations and managed to both paint portraits with words and tell a great story. Oscar Wilde needs no bigging up from me, but Rider Haggard’s Alan Quatermain stories were the inspiration for the hunting scene in my book, the one where the elephant runs amok and Paul Kruger gets his thumb shot off. A hundred years after publication it is amazing how unashamedly condescending and xenophobic the writing now appears. You really get a sense of the unquestioned superiority felt by the English gentleman abroad. It is this attitude that my book tastelessly lampoons.

Q: What are you reading at the moment?

Ben Elton’s Time and Time Again. People who only know his work through his comedy may be surprised to discover that he is actually a very good writer of historical drama (his uncle was a famous Cambridge professor of history as it happens). This is a real page turner and, speaking as an ex-historian, I am fascinated to see what he does with his re-writing of June and July 1914. Prior to this I read Syrup by Max Barry. For my money, nobody rips into the modern world quite like he does and with both humour and intelligence – a really underrated writer.

Q: Are there any new books or authors that have you excited?

The best book I have read in an age is The Extraordinary Journey of the Fakir who got Trapped in an IKEA Wardrobe by Romain Puerolas. It is both very funny and very thought provoking and every word sings off the page. A real joy.

Q: Tell us everything about your book and why you love it!

That’s a big question! I am not sure I love it as such. I think when you know the mechanics of a story and all the work behind it, it’s very difficult to enjoy it like a fan. I am very proud of the writing, or most of it, but then I think you always end up thinking something could have been better. Sometimes I read to be enlightened and provoked, sometimes to escape, and I really hope my book helps readers escape awhile. What’s it about? It’s a colonial farce which makes gentle fun of the assuredness and ill-founded sense of superiority that helped our little island govern a third of the globe for a brief moment in time. It’s got real people in it – Cecil Rhodes, Oscar Wilde, to name but two – and one definitely fictitious diplomat called Madagan Rùn (pronounced Rhune) who is spectacularly unqualified for the position and only got the job because he is… Well read it and find out.

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Author Links

James Roberts Website

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Pardon Me: A Victorian Farce was published October 8th 2015 by Mint Associates, and is available both through the author’s site and via all good book sellers. My review of the book itself may be found here.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/28/an-interview-with-james-roberts-author-of-pardon-me-a-victorian-farce/

Jan 24 2016

Pardon Me: A Victorian Farce by James Roberts

There are several kinds of reader who will absolutely delight in this book. One is the kind who loves a sex romp a la Benny Hill, all innuendoes and awkward hilarity. Another is the kind who loves British/European/South African history of the Victorian era, particularly as the basis for a bit of speculative historical fiction (think Forrest Gump,) with one knowing eye to modern sensibilities. But most of all, this book will appeal to the kind of reader who enjoys a smart, funny but ultimately and surprisingly sweet tale of a young man trying to find his way at the turn of the 20th century. Reminiscent of a historically advanced Candide, tho without as much heavy-handed philosophizing, Pardon Me is an occasionally grotesque but ultimately fulfilling Anglo-centric comedy of sex, drugs and politics.

Disclaimer: James Roberts offered a copy of Pardon Me to the Frumious Consortium staff for review. After a death match that may or may not have involved stilettos of both kinds and copious amounts of tears and drunken promises, I emerged the victor and got to read Pardon Me first, whee!

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/24/pardon-me-a-victorian-farce-by-james-roberts/

Jan 16 2016

What If…? by Anthony Browne

My four year-old freaking loves this book and I honestly have no idea why. Well, I get it, intellectually, I just find it odd that our tastes should differ so abruptly here when we’re usually quite in sync with our likes and dislikes. Anyway, What If…? tells the relatable tale of experiencing mild social anxiety on the way to a party (and on the part of the mom after dropping her kid off at said party.) It’s the illustrations that I found somewhat off-putting. Don’t get me wrong: they’re beautifully done, but in an absurdist, almost hallucinatory manner that illustrates the kid’s specific worries and, frankly, made me a little uncomfortable. But hey, Jms thinks they’re perfect for the book and wants me to read it with him over and over again, so job done.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/16/what-if-by-anthony-browne/

Jan 16 2016

Template by Matthew Hughes

All the best sci-fi novels are, at their cores, novels of ideas. Template is no different, exploring philosophies of the defining traits of societies and what it means to belong. Here’s the thing with this book, tho: while written in the third person, it takes the narrative view of the hero of the piece, Conn Labro, an orphan raised by a gaming house as a master duelist on a world that abides by a philosophy that reduces or, generously, simplifies human interactions to profit/loss transactions. Emotions are not a large part of Labro’s life, so when his employment and only friend are both abruptly terminated, he finds himself ill-equipped to deal with the planet-hopping quest for meaning on which he’s suddenly thrust. Fortunately, he captures the interest of someone better able to deal with social nuances in the person of Jenore Mordene, a dancer from Old Earth looking for a way home. Jenore serves as the readers’ touchstone with, for the majority of us, “normal” interactions. Conn’s reductive view of his experiences, while an intriguing intellectual exercise (and, frankly, a terrific narrative tool in the way it lulled me into not expecting a significant plot twist that can be considered a feature of the genre,) made Template a less than immersive experience for me, as it’s hard to feel more emotionally connected to a story than its own viewpoint character. So it’s kinda weird that it’s a really terrific, intelligent space opera that wound up leaving me, if not exactly cold then lukewarm, due to the narrative framework integral to presenting its story. A good, if curious, read, especially when the extent of my familiarity with Matthew Hughes’ work so far has been with several of his extremely charming short stories (more of which I will be reading soon, so expect that review in the near future!)

Disclaimer: Mr Hughes sent me a copy of this book for review because I’d previously said nice things about his short story included in Rogues. You should also try to find a copy of his excellent Jeeves and Wooster pastiche, Greeves And The Evening Star, which ran in another Martin/Dozois anthology, Old Venus.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/16/template-by-matthew-hughes/

Jan 12 2016

The Art of Travel by Alain de Botton

 

I purchased The Art of Travel on the way out of town during a spring break beach trip. The options at the Baylor Bookstore (the prep school, not the university), were limited to the sorts of things high schoolers either should read (such as Night by Elie Wiesel) or must read (insert Shakespeare title you have already read twice here) neither of which seemed like suitable choices for beach reading. And while I can’t really see most high schoolers being all that intrigued with this book, for me it is a must read, and a book I will put back in my stack to be re-read soon.
De Botton applies a fairly simple but ingenious concept to the book. For each area of travel he explores (anticipation, the exotic, the sublime, etc.) he relates a place to a famous historical figure (usually an artist or writer), who either essentially made the place “necessary to visit” through their work, or whose general life experience applies to de Botton’s travels now.
Without spoiling too much of the premise, de Botton does a wonderful job of applying his experience of his visit to a region such as Provence to his knowledge and experience of Van Gogh’s work. Through the various chapters, one learns: 1) how de Botton feels about the place and the person with whom he associates it; 2) whether one should want to go there and why; and 3) most importantly, how to stop running through life and enjoy each place for what it has to offer.
Being unfamiliar with the author (I bought the book based on its title, given my pending trip), I’ve actually found a kindred spirit who writes the way I should write. The style is a first person exploration of the many emotions de Botton has as he travels, and it is like a travel journal writ large into a philosophy of how one should approach the next day off one has available. The language is so rich that I am certain there is more of it to taste the next time I read it, and this kind of “dessert” writing inspires me in different ways to enlarge my horizons both while traveling and while I sit at home.
That said, as with many such desserts, it should be savored in small amounts. Enjoy the whole book, but one chapter read slowly in a sitting will be plenty to consider for at least two days. Give it time to simmer in your mind. Don’t miss the various notes and flavors. After all, it’s not some Eurail Pass you bought during the summer holidays; it’s philosophy.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/12/the-art-of-travel-by-alain-de-botton/

Jan 08 2016

Shadows Of Self by Brandon Sanderson

This guy. Seriously, Brandon Sanderson is the kind of author all professional writers should aspire to be. You’d think that the quality of his output would suffer given the discipline he adheres to in producing it, but no: all his books are intelligent, creative, wildly entertaining and filled with his distinctive sense of humanity and kindness, in addition to mind-blowing world creation.

Anyway, this book in particular, the 5th in the Mistborn series, is difficult for me to review without getting heavily into spoilers, because the revelations of the identity of the villain and the motivation behind the A plot brought up some fascinating issues regarding… jeez, I can’t even venture close to it because I really want you guys to discover it for yourself (and I really, really hate when book critics think they’re being opaque re: spoilers but are really broadcasting them for anyone sensitive to nuance, as I am.) Let’s just say that the title of this book is exceptionally relevant (and now I’m worried that that was too much of a spoiler in itself.)

On safer topics, I did enjoy the continuing evolution of the relationships between the characters (I really love Steris,) even as I’m mortified by the fact that it took me till this book to realize that the two main guy characters are named Wax and Wayne. The callbacks to the first trilogy of the series were also exceptional, calling into question our own assumptions about historical righteousness. Marasi’s exploration of her Allomancy was also a lot of fun to follow, as well as her personal growth: it’s a relief to not see her moon over a crush, as she might have in the hands of a lesser writer. God, Brandon Sanderson, I want to be you when I grow up! I cannot wait for Bands Of Mourning to come out later this month!

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/08/shadows-of-self-by-brandon-sanderson/

Jan 05 2016

Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl by Carrie Brownstein

I completely abused the Highlight function on my Kindle when reading this book. A vital, sensitive exploration of her childhood and youth, heading into maturity and fame, Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl is written by Carrie Brownstein (and ONLY Carrie Brownstein) with a wit and honesty unusual for the vast majority of celebrity memoirs. There were only two flaws, for me: 1. the ending seemed scattered and unfocused (a flaw common to most memoirs, tho,) and 2. the oddly judgmental tone she takes when discussing “slacker” rock stars like Beck and Rivers Cuomo, who don’t exude a wild exuberance when performing on-stage. She accuses them of performing from a place of entitlement, which is an odd interpretation for someone who also confesses to being painfully shy: in an otherwise empathetic book, the fact that she doesn’t immediately assume the same of them is jarring. Having said that, I’ve seen both Ms Brownstein and Mr Cuomo perform live, and while the former is definitely more kinetic and, thus, electric, I wouldn’t call the latter at all a lazy entertainer.

Another thing I found odd, if understandable, is the title, and its possible relation to Ms Brownstein’s mother’s anorexia. I’m fairly certain Ms Brownstein sees the irony of the connection, as she herself admits to having a remarkable constitution despite her undiscerning diet, but nowhere is it noted explicitly in the book.

Anyway, there were so many great and relatable moments otherwise, including this observation regarding looking back on our pasts:

[N]ostalgia asks so little of us, just to be noticed and revisited; it doesn’t require the difficult task of negotiation, the heartache and uncertainty that the present does.

On parents, she reminds us of deeply held, if unfairly assumed, notions of their roles in our lives:

Parents are supposed to be our storage facilities: insert a memory, let them hold on to it for you.

and

We want our parents to be the norm from which we deviate.

Possibly my favorite words of hers had to do with the (primarily, but not necessarily adolescent) search for identity:

It’s hard to express how profound it is to have your experience broadcast back to you for the first time, how shocking it feels to be acknowledged, as if your own sense of realness had only existed before as a concept.

and this one, that hit me hard, as I too had quested fitfully through my adolescence and college years for purpose:

I needed other people’s outward manifestations of self to help me realize who I could be.

Here, she echoes what I’ve always felt about performing:

[J]ust being up there, engaged in a momentary artifice, a heightening of self, is sometimes enough to get by, to feel less worn down by, less withered by life.

After a less than stellar audition for a band she admired, she wrote the bandleader a confessional letter that had me cringing in both empathy and embarrassment at having done something very similar in my own youth:

People think that the digital age and social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter nurture over-sharing, but in 1992 there was nothing stopping me from treating any piece of paper like a personal diary. I wanted so badly to be taken to some special place, to be asked into a secret club that would transform my life. I felt like music was that club. And to see inside for a moment and then be asked to leave was devastating.

And finally, an excellent passage that I could have written myself, were I smarter and more self-exploratory:

Underneath that nervousness, however, I had a cunningness and intentionality, or at least a cluelessness that was intrepid enough to get the job done. I cared too much about what people thought but also not enough.

That isn’t even all of the bits I highlighted, but man, am I looking forward to owning my own physical copy eventually and abusing it just as much. The book also got me to listen to my old Sleater-Kinney CDs, that are just as good as I remember. I got to see them perform live several times, and still remember standing in line to get into the 9:30 Club when I saw Janet Weiss lug some band equipment out of the trunk of a car. She had a wry expression on her face as she gazed at the chattering crowd oblivious to her presence, and I instinctively leaned forward to ask if I could help, but she turned away and I was too shy to call out to offer. After reading this book, with its tales of what touring life was really like for them, I know that I should have.

Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl is one of the best celebrity memoirs I’ve ever read. Carrie Brownstein is an incredibly talented and intelligent writer, with a capacity for self-reflection and empathy that is refreshing to read in this kind of work. The book adds depth to my existing admiration of Sleater-Kinney, and to the minor girl crush I’ve had on her since seeing her perform one of her signature kicks dressed in the business casual garb that, on her, always gave off a louche Desire of the Endless vibe to me. Love love love.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/05/hunger-makes-me-a-modern-girl-by-carrie-brownstein/

Jan 05 2016

Taking Stock of 2015

In 2015, I decided to read in three major science fiction and fantasy series that I had somehow missed over the previous twenty years or more. While I had been happily reading other things, they had grown into monuments of the field, and I only knew second-hand what they were all about. So I decided to at least have a look. I was inspired in part by the serendipity of finding a trove of Discworld books in Basel, where I had been traveling for work, and in part by Jo Walton’s enthusiasm for Vlad Taltos and Mike Vorkosigan, as explicated in What Makes This Book So Great. As it turns out, I did not quite get to any of the Vorkosigan books last year, and I only read two Taltos books (though I liked them both), so I still have those to look forward to. Iain M. Banks’ Culture novels are also on my radar for similar reasons. Discworld, on the other hand, has me hooked. I read a good dozen of the books in 2015, and I am finding them everything they were promised to be: hilarious, humane, heartening.

There was slightly less Poland in my reading than last year, but a large chunk of it was Czeslaw Milosz’s History of Polish Literature. I haven’t quite finished blogging about the book, but as I said in my first post about it, every literature should be so fortunate as to have a Nobel laureate to write its history.

2015 was also the year I started reading books on my phone’s screen. The experiment got off to a shaky start, and I am still not a huge fan of this form of reading. I suspect that if I were commuting, I would read more that way. When I had long commutes in Moscow, I read a lot on my Kindle, so I know I’m not averse to e-readers per se.

Non-fiction books that stand out in my recollection, beyond the Milosz, include Midnight at the Pera Palace by Charles King, Jo Walton’s collection of enthusiasms What Makes This Book So Great, Shirley Jackson’s perfect memoir Raising Demons, and Ryszard Kapuscinski’s three meditations on power: The Emperor, Shah of Shahs and Another Day of Life.

I re-read two books in 2015. Barry Hughart’s Bridge of Birds is a delight that I have read many times and have to be careful about picking up because I know I won’t be able to put it down again. Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner is a major work in the history of science fiction, and it stands up well.

The Wolfhound Century trilogy by Peter Higgins is an amazing achievement. I’m still trying to figure out what to say about the third book beyond “breathtaking” and “audacious.” Granted, not everyone will want to read a series that starts out as a police procedural in an alternative history Russia suffused with elements of fantasy and science fiction, but people who don’t are missing out. I suspect that publishing the books at widely spaced intervals meant that they did not get as much attention as they should (the first has a cliffhanger ending, and while that doesn’t matter now that they are all out, it annoyed some reviewers at the time). I see that Dave Hutchinson’s Europe in Autumn may be growing into a series, and I am looking forward to reading the next book. I can still hear how many inflections the characters in The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison put on the word “Serenity,” even with hardly an adverb in sight. That one may get re-read. After reading The Merchant and The Alchemist’s Gate, I am looking forward to more by Ted Chiang.

I finished two books in German in 2015, Viva Polonia by Stefan Möller and Simple Storys by Ingo Schulze. I would like my reading in German to be a slightly larger share of what I read, but I am also lazy about it.

Full list, roughly in order read, is under the fold with links to my reviews here at Frumious.

Continue reading

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/01/05/taking-stock-of-2015/

Dec 31 2015

The Story Of A New Name by Elena Ferrante

I want to get it, guys, I really do. All the acclaim, all the rhapsodic reverence: I want to feel that, too. I just don’t, and tho I feel like I maybe came close here (and much closer than in the first book,) I still just don’t understand why this has been such a sensation, or even how universal its appeal could possibly be when, to me, it’s an above average but certainly not great novel.

My main problem with it was Lena. I’m the kind of reader who, especially if I’m reading a first-person narrative, trusts myself to the narrator in the expectation that even if I’m (hopefully pleasantly) betrayed, at least I will understand why the narrator makes her choices because I’m inside her head (see: Ian McEwan’s Atonement, Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, Agatha Christie’s Endless Night.) But Jesus Christ, Lena. The closest I can get to why she’s so fucking awful is that she’s a pessimist whose sense of self-worth is so minuscule that I’m fairly certain she has borderline personality disorder, to the point that nothing in her life, none of her own achievements or accomplishments, matter as much as or in contrast with her “best friend” Lila’s. When people talk about how “realistic” this depiction of a “complicated” friendship is, I thank God that my many female friendships through the years were not with a creature as absurdly self-abnegating and negative as Lena.

The main reason I enjoyed this novel and will continue to keep reading the series is, by contrast, Lila. I might not agree with all her decisions (tho in so many I felt a kinship) and I might think her occasionally mean and awful, but man, I really want things to go well for her. I read a memoir a while back where the author, in an effort to make her husband look like a good guy, painted herself as the villain in a weird act of self-justification as to why she put up with things instead of maybe saying something and not being passive-aggressive for a change, and this book felt a lot like that: a love letter to Lila, who is awesome despite Lena, who maybe makes herself sound shittier than she needs to because she wants us to love Lila like she does. But then again, Lena went and tossed the box into the river in an act of wild selfishness and ill-discipline (not to mention ill will,) so fuck her.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2015/12/31/the-story-of-a-new-name-by-elena-ferrante/

Dec 29 2015

The Boy Meets Girl Massacre (Annotated) by Ainslie Hogarth

I can’t remember where I came across mention of this book, but it was obviously enough to get me to buy it and read it. Of course, that happens a lot, which is why my to-be-read collection on my Kindle just broke 300 books.

Tangents, aside, I wasn’t sure what to expect with this book. Massacres are generally interesting to me, same with horror books. Boy meets girl, eh, done a lot, but in the end this was a very nice short-ish read that actually gave me the heebies at points. At a lot of points, actually. I love paranormal stuff and this books was full of it in spades, and done well, too. The author came at it all from a bit of a slant, so while it felt similar to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House, it was actually very different, and very intriguing. Subtle is a word that comes to mind. Not a lot of words are used but the picture that emerges is very detailed.

I’m not an official book reviewer with a list of particular things to critique. I just like what I like, and I liked this book. I’m glad I came across it, I’m glad I read it, and I fully intend to read it again in the future.

I think you should, too.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2015/12/29/the-boy-meets-girl-massacre-annotated-by-ainslie-hogarth/