The Music Of War

When I was in highschool we were encouraged to read Canadian authors, and in those days it seemed like there were only four: Margaret Atwood, Alice Munroe, Margaret Laurence, and Pierre Burton. No doubt there were others, but I didn't really know who they were and truth be told, I didn't do much to enlighten myself. Something tells me that I wasn't the only one ignorant of my own country's numerous authors, as in 2002 the CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) inaugurated a new annual event - Canada Reads. For the 2014 version, the process began with the public voting for up to 10 books from a list of 40 (though I'm not certain where the 40 come from) and this list is whittled down to the top ten, whereby the public got to vote again for the top books. Of these, 5 are selected and a few months later they are each defended by a Canadian public personality/celebrity. The public then votes 'off' one of the books per week, until there is a winner. I became familiar with Canada Reads only a few years ago, while at University where I didn't have time for pleasure reading. This time though, I've decided to participate and in the first round I voted for nine: one a professor at Uni had loaned me to read over summer break; two I already had on my list to read; and the other six were books I'd never heard of but appealed to me. Of those nine, only one made it to the top five. This review is about one of the two I had already wanted to read.

Set during the Siege of Sarajevo in 1992, Steven Galloway's Cellist of Sarajevo was inspired by a cellist who played a particular piece at the same time, everyday for twenty-two days after a building was mortared killing twenty-two people. The story itself is about the meaning behind this action and how news of it spread in the streets by people who were attempting to get a food and water while doing their best to avoid being shot at. It shows the difficulty of individual movement, the need for compassion even while so very difficult to give, and the internal battles each individual must face daily simply to exist.

This isn't a love story amid the detritus of war, nor is it a survivor's tale. It is about honouring those who are killed without real cause. It is allegorical of what is still going on today. How bombs fall to make a point, but kill those who would rather just get on with their day - peaceably. What I particularly like about this novel is how different types of violence are portrayed. Everyone understands the physical violence that comes from war, but there are other types of violence, structural, daily and political - all of these are woven into the tale, through the few characters described, and how they push through it, either by acceptance or rejecting it.

While this story is set during a siege, I would not call it a war story in the sense that war is described. This isn't a military tale, it is the story of those besieged and attempting to live another day. Therefore, I recommend this for anyone interested in both military fiction and literature. I give this book 4 dogs crossing the street out of 5.

Serious Comedy

Occasionally as readers we stumble across a work that we can't put down despite how it picks away at the deepest parts of our being and pinpoints the spots where we are most sensitive. This becomes doubly so when considering that the reader selected the book for two reasons: she enjoyed the author's prior novel; and the author is a comedienne. There's no argument that comedy often identifies uncomfortable truths about ourselves and we learn to laugh through it, but one should not expect that just because a comedienne wrote a book, that novel is going to be humorous.

In Oh Dear Silvia, Dawn French explores how family, friends and employees cope and adapt to the loss of someone who was, decidedly, a force of nature in their lives. Silvia Shute is in a coma, and the reasons why she is that state and how it effects those around her is slowly revealed throughout the novel. The story exposes loves and hates, successes and disappointments, as well as the subtle sacrifices one makes to prevent loved ones from coming to the worst of harms.

If, as a reader, you are expecting 'French and Saunders'or 'The Vicar of Dibley' type comedy, then you're in for a disappointment. That isn't to say there aren't any witty or funny scenes, expressions, or characters. Just that it is not a 'humour' book per sé . If you're seeking a book that is brilliant for its own merit then this might be a great fit, especially if you've no fear of crying. The realities of how differently each individual reacts to the loss of a loved one, even if temporary, is brilliantly achieved and written.

I suppose that I'd describe this book as one that ensnares the reader's emotions long before she realises they should even ensure an escape route or has time to lock them away. Perhaps this will scare some potential readers off, which is not my goal. I reckon everyone should read it, but not everyone will like it. It's probably one of those books one has to be open to reading, rather than a question of taste.

For the sheer pleasure of the encounter I give this book 5 beech trees out of 5.

The Struggle Of Joining In Late

Long, long ago (pre-world wide web) I read a book that I enjoyed immensely. It was an epic novel called Stonehenge. I liked it so much that over the years I purchased most of the author's other works, but did not read any of them until about five years ago when another one off entitled Azincourt was published. I've no idea why I didn't crack open any of Bernard Cornwell's other books even though they decorated the better part of one shelf. This year, an online book group that I belong two offered up three of the books as options: one being the aforementioned megaliths; and the other two the first book in a series. All three won for their respective months, forcing me to finally crack some spines (figuratively speaking, we don't literally crack spines - ever). The first was the much loved beginnings of Uhtred of Bebbanburg - The Last Kingdom.

There were high expectations for this novel, as most people I know who have read it not only love the series, but feel a personal attachment to the protagonist Uhtred. Many of these individuals weren't particularly fond of Azincourt, whereas I quite liked that work. However, I hadn't the years of reading Cornwell's other series, so perhaps that affected my opinion. I had no real expectation or points of comparison since I'd only ever read his epic, not his shorter novels.

As it turns out, I don't love Uhtred as others do. I don't dislike him either. I didn't really feel much empathy toward him, or any of the other characters for that matter. This might have more to do with having only read the first book, while those who are fond of the main character have the benefit of having read the entire series. Perhaps that is why they are very enthusiastic in their encouragement to get stuck in - because as a whole it's a fab series. That isn't to say that I didn't enjoy the book; I did. It was a well laid out tale of a young man who must face the changes around him and make decisions to ensure his survival regardless of how incongruous those choices may affect his own personal moral and ethical codes.

Despite my indifference to Uhtred, I do very much enjoy Cornwell's ability to transport the reader through time and place. When an author details a landscape and era in such a way that evoke the grittiness of fear, war, and politics while simultaneously allowing a waft of sea air to punch through the pungent scents of sweat and death, then you know you have a book worthy of your time. The power struggles between Danes and English is clearly the focus, the secondary and equally dangerous battle between church and traditional worship appear to be explored only marginally. However, I expect that in the end, this will be the glue that keeps the series moving along. With the advantage of nearly a thousand years, we know that the ultimate battle between church and state is ever present and dominant throughout.

Not only because I own the rest of the books in the series, but because of genuine interest, I will read the next installment. Perhaps, given more time to woo me, I might even learn to like Uhtred as more than just a device that moves the story along. Therefore, I give the book 3.5 burning ships out of 5.

Don't Send The Zamboni Out Just Yet

Every once in a while we stumble across something that allows us to wrap ourselves in the warm comfort of our own lived histories. While the title of Sean Kelly's book Metal On Ice: Tales From Canada's Hard Rock And Heavy Metal Heroes seems to contradict the notions of warmth and comfort, the content, at least for me, was a time-machine back to the body-heat filled bars and taverns of the 80s and the comfort of music that assuaged my daily struggles as a teen. For various reasons my experiences differed (and still differ) from Mr. Kelly's but I noticed a commonality in our approach to the music scene of the day; and in the Canadian scene more specifically.

Despite the brevity of the book, it accomplishes two things: telling the story and explaining the experience of being a fan of metal music in Canada; and recounting the complexities of being a Canadian musician and the additional struggles of Canadian 'Metal' bands. Through interviews with many of the musicians of the day (many still playing in one form or another), Kelly paints a picture of the inception of the Metal scene to its demise with the onset of the Seattle grunge movement. But he does more than that. He details the complications of travelling from one venue to another in a lightly populated, yet enormous landmass filled with mountains, water features, and for all intents and purposes, highways that amount to not much more than glorified horse trails and goat paths. He explores the bizarre phenomenon where many Canadian bands were, sadly, appreciated more in Europe than on their home soil, and the difficulty in 'making it' by gaining the illusive (and decidedly ruinous) record contracts, especially in the United States.

What struck me most though was that despite the distance of time and the effects of the overall experiences these musicians had, every single one of them where laughing when telling their stories. This is evidenced by Kelly's meticulous us of '[laughing]' throughout the text. It occurred to me, that if a non-Canadian were to pick this book up, this is what they'd walk away knowing that - Canadians quintessentially like to laugh about their experiences, and they love to laugh when they tell stories, no matter the hardships involved.

When I first was told that I'd won a copy of the book on Twitter (Thanks Dundurn Press) I knew instinctively this was about metal bands playing in hockey arenas. However, now I'm thinking Kelly was quite clever in his choice of words by evoking a secondary meaning, that not only do Metal bands play on ice, but that while other music fads come and go, the Metal scene is biding it's time, and is 'on ice'. In other words, simply in a holding pattern, and with a little time, we'll be hearing it all fresh again, in our arenas and bars.

As always for the rating enthusiasts: I give this 4.5 rock horns of out 5.

Sacré bleu! J'en ai deux

While I'm not generally overly picky about subject matter or genre, there are times when I do have certain expectations, particularly with historical fictions. One of those expectations is that whatever historical information is known to us should not be altered much. I understand that in a fiction there are things that would simply drag a story, or make it less readable. I know that the compression of time is often necessary and I can accept that and other minor changes provided the author explains why. I guess it's my little test as to the credibility of an author? Or perhaps I simply dislike lies and mistruths? Who knows. The point is, that there are some authors who are known to play a little fast and loose with history and I've been hesitant to lay down hard earned cash. I am told that one such author is Conn Iggulden.

In my case, what Mr. Iggulden is also up against is that his two first big series are of eras I'm probably the least interested in, so I never felt all that bad about not exploring his books, they were never a subject I had to worry that friends and family would buy for me. However, his newest series is approaching an era that I'm familiar with, or that I'm at least somewhat knowledgeable in. The Wars of the Roses is not in itself a history I know a great deal about, but I do have some knowledge of the political and social challenges and issues of the medieval period. I may get a little confused about this John or that Richard, but am aware of the jostling for power by different royal houses in England and the Continent. As a result I thought that I'd give both Stormbird, the first of a series about the Wars of the Roses and Mr. Iggulden a try, to which occurred a rare event.

Despite having won nothing in over a year at Goodreads, I still tried my luck whenever a book of interest presented itself and I was fortunate enough to be selected. I received the advanced readers copy, read it and set it aside while I mulled over a review. About a week or so later, another copy of the same advanced readers copy (from the very same publisher) arrived at my door - a gift from Chapters/Indigo because of my longstanding membership as a loyalty card holder. I wasn't even aware that the Chapters/Indigo did that sort of thing. Either way, the message was clear; I was ready for Conn Iggulden and the Wars of the Roses and apparently they were ready for me.

The novel begins with how the two houses are related and carries on with why the Lancastrians and the Yorks became divided and out-maneuvered each other for power. The added conflicts with the French and the peasants was, in my opinion, rather well done. There was one small anachronism near the beginning that made me wonder at the author's intent for historical accuracy, something he did not address in his notes, and that was the use of the expression 'Bloody hell'. For all intents, this term was not in use for another two hundred years when it became synonymous with Mary Tudor's reign and her brutal reaction to Protestantism. I then felt that Mr. Iggulden was secretly just trying to find a way to fit in 'Sacré bleu!' and could only do so through the whole bloody hell bit. Neither reappears after that wee scene.

All in all, I quite liked the book. The size is large, as is the font and the language is uncomplicated but not simple. While it seems like a massive book the stories flow nicely and kept me intrigued. I also found myself wanting to know more about many of the characters, while others I came to dislike very much. I do admit to not understanding the inclusion of the Jew's story, unless there is some deeper meaning later, but within this story I found it superfluous at best. Having said that, I will definitely read the next installment.

For the ratings buffs: I give this 3.5 rose coquettes out of 5.

Bloglovin

Consolidation Completed(ish), Or Back In The Game

I have finally gotten around to consolidating the reviews that I could locate. One might ask themselves why there is a huge gab between mid-July and relatively recently. The answer is manifold, but essentially it comes down to not having been inspired to write reviews for the books I'd read. I still intend to write them, but I was in a bit of a writing funk. Not to mention that I was conflicted in some cases as to which blog to put them in. Add to that my disenchantment with Goodreads where I had at some point intended to be the only place I would add reviews. All of that aside, this blog will be where I house all my reviews, regardless of genre, method of acquisition and the rest.

The other reason there is such a huge gap is that I felt a little pressured to meet reading deadlines and the more deadlines I missed the less I felt like reading. Thus when I made the decision to start this blog, I also decided that I would no longer allow myself to be pressured into reading a book. I'll read whatever I feel like (yup, I'm one of those - emotional readers), when I feel like it. So, you won't be seeing an 'on the deck' type feature, because I failed every time I set one of those up. I'd read something like five books before I ever got to that one I'd promised. Then I'd have to hold off on the other reviews...meh, you probably really don't care about the process, so I'll drop it.

Needless to say, the reviews will appear when they appear, which may not be the order they were read and hopefully I won't go months between each. I can state that in the next week or so, I plan on hitting the backlog and hope to have some interesting opinions to share. Likely there will also be an interesting story or two about how I came to possess certain novels.

Planting Science

Living in an urban area with virtually no useable green-space to speak of, I'm always looking for ways to incorporate Nature's bounty in my life, whether as a medicinal aid or in the kitchen. So, I was delighted when fortune smiled down and Goodreads selected me as a Firstread winner for a copy of The Sweetness Of A Simple Life: Tips For Healthier, Happier And Kinder Living Gleaned From The Science And Wisdom Of Nature by Dianna Beresford-Kroeger.

Coming from a family whose livelihood was sustained through heavy industry and auto manufacturing, there was little time to teach us kids how to cultivate anything from nature. My paternal grandfather had a small patch of garden for he and my gran, and one summer my parents did attempt to grow some food for the winter. We were blessed with an over-abundance of string beans and a handful of tomatoes but the rest just didn't materialise. When my grandfather died some thirty years ago, there was no one left to teach us how to grow our own food.

Beresford-Kroeger doesn't teach anyone how to grow a garden. What she does is explain the importance of reaching out to Nature for the things we need and she backs it up with science. She offers information about how some plants can help prevent or combat the ailments brought on by industrial and urban pollutants. There are tips and advice on the types of plants that improve our state of mind just by their scent, or that give one's pets an opportunity to play and relax. These tips do; however, make one believe that anyone can develop a green-thumb.

The best thing about this diminutive book is that it's written in easy to understand language. There are no pie-charts or graphs, no unpronounceable words, no awkwardly formulated theories and conclusions. None of the chapters, with the exception of perhaps one, exceeds five pages, and the explanations include everyday uses. While not all of the suggestions are possible for everyone, the author clearly points out the few things that can be achieved on an apartment balcony or a window sill, and also recommends tree and plant combinations for larger green-spaces (though this is only realised as one progresses through the book).

I truly think that this very easy to read book should be in all homes, even if for no other reason than to be able to understand how many chemicals with fewer benefits we have that replace the things that Nature offers to us if we bother to work for it. I do offer one small caveat - Beresford-Kroeger is not afraid of tossing in some bits of sarcasm about our consumption and dependence of unnecessarily manufactured goods.

I give this book 4.5 root cellars out of 5.

A Hill, A Hill; My Country For A Hill

Reading Westerns is something I have enjoyed since I've been able to read in English. I can't really pin down the whys and whatfors, but I reckon it has a lot do with a forthrightness in the human interaction. With animals too. Over the past year or so I've been immersed in historical fiction primarily set in Europe with the exception of one Western that I had to read to fulfill a challenge. That book reminded me of my love for stories where there were big skies, open plains and honest living, even if that living was violent.

Upon lamenting about the lack of good new Westerns, it was recommended that I read about the American Civil War (ACW). That perhaps I'd find a similar texture and may satiate my need for a purging of modern conveniences. I didn't know where to begin, so I picked up a book by Bernard Cornwell, which I will review at a later date, since I'm familiar with the author. I was told, while good, one needed to read the pre-eminent of all ACW fiction, The Killer Angels by the late Michael Shaara.

I wasn't certain what to expect from this Pulitzer Prize winning novel that's nearly as old as I. First, I've never read a Pulitzer winning novel before. Second, prior to the aforementioned Cornwell novel, I'd never read about a modern battle set prior to WWII. Third, those books about modern battles were all non-fiction. I understand now that I'd set the bar awfully low for Shaara's book, but now it's set the standard - apologies to all other ACW authors.

I had thought George R.R. Martin brilliant regarding how he named chapters depending on which character's point of view (POV) he intended for that particular part of the tale. I now know that this was a device used by Shaara long before Martin's epic series. I am told that Jeff Shaara (Michael's son) continues in this vein with the flanking prequel and sequel - someone please correct me if this is an erroneous statement.

Being able to see the battle and stories unfold from each individual's perspective, which are based on journals, notes and historical documents, is perhaps the most interesting way of truly understanding a soldier's motives. The push and pull of personal opinion, training, beliefs systems and having to follow orders deftly details the complex nature of war and why one chooses not only to fight, but how they decide on a side.

It is a fallacy to assume that all Southerners fought for the Confederacy and the right to own slaves whilst the Northerners were all abolitionist Unionists. War, particularly Civil War is never that simple. Shaara writes a balanced and beautifully nuanced tale of men who must knowingly lead others to their deaths for a 'cause'. That there are differing opinions on what the cause is matters not in the end. They are all both hero and rebel.

While I admit my own grammar to be questionable, even I was able to find a crapload or grammatical issues in this novel. A small criticism really because I didn't actually notice until I was nearly three hundred pages in. This is the sort of thing that decides for me if a book is brilliant. When punctuation and sentence structures that should make me want to pull my hair out don't. This book deserves all the accolades it gets, because even language fails to get in its way.

As a lover of maps, I applaud the author's inclusion of the multitude of maps to aid the reader in understanding troop movement and landscape. This is a gift, one that many other authors may want to consider when writing a fiction that includes battles. The author can see a field in his mind's eye, perhaps some readers with the luxury of being able to visit a field can do so as well, but the rest of us are left bereft. Shaara knew how to bring that final element to his readers and it is greatly appreciated.

I hate ratings, but am told they are important, thus I capitulate: 4.5 rebel yells out of 5

The Great Consolidation

I had this idea that I would compartmentalise my book blogging and created a few blogs for different things. Books that I won I would write about on Blog W and historical fictions on Blog H, Mysteries on Blog M, and Contemporary ones on Blog C. Until I won some books that fit more than one.

Why not post them all up on one place you ask. Initially I did, on Goodreads; however, with a changing of the guard there I am no longer pre-disposed to publish anything that might be used without my knowledge, so I've been slowly deleting them from there. Hence this blog.

Then while doing something requiring little cerebral power - the dishes - I realised that I could simply pool all my previous blog posts onto one blog. One that uses none of the blog 'characters' that I'd used before. A blog where I feel a sense of freedom and no pressure from anyone. So, this one won out.

Any blog posts or reviews that date prior to 22 September 2013, and this post, are from other blogs that I'm either in the process of shutting down, or have already done so. I may also include reviews I did for University, but I've not completely decided on that since some are quite long and are written anthropologically. We'll see.

Insurrection - Robyn Young

Scotland. A land where until the 19th century discussions about conflict were more likely to begin with the word 'when' than 'if'. I am always astonished by the discovery of more medieval documents that surface revealing links to the Scottish Wars of Independence. Generally, they do not come out of Scotland, but occasionally they do. It is with those rare archival finds that personages like William Wallace were re-discovered and interest in others such Robert the Bruce came about. As a king, Bruce was not completely lost to the bogs of memory, but we really know very little. On the other hand, when there is little information, the landscape becomes fallow, and fallow fields eventually yield better crops.

Insurrection is the first instalment in the trilogy about Robert the Bruce, and begins elsewhere, in France and the fertile fantasising of the future English King Edward (Longshanks). He identifies with the mythical Arthur through Monmouth's prophecies and sets a course for the domination of the English Isles. Then we meet Robert who accidentally encounters a healer/witch who weaves fortunes onto an oak tree. Two men, two prophecies, two kingdoms and Young weaves a tale that incorporates of all of this along with the known histories. There is no secret as to how the basic story plays out. It is in the way the story is told that matters here.

I am not generally opposed to the invention of a secret society of knights to make a story move along, but I really didn't see the inclusion of one in this novel as helpful. I understand why it was done, to establish friendships which lead to the inevitable catalyst that will define a sense of betrayal; however, I felt it tenuous here. Never will I believe that someone's desire for a throne will be superseded by peer pressure. I'm usually pretty flexible when it comes to understanding human motivations, but not on this point. Few get more than one opportunity to be king, assisting in reducing the possibility of that ever happening just is not something I will every buy. I was, though grudgingly, willing to accept the idea of the Knights of the Dragon, until Robert's complicity in the destruction of his own future rule. To me, the story was so implausible as to be nearly farcical that it dropped me completely out of the book. It's a credit to the author's superb writing up to then that I continued reading.

With the exception of the inclusion of the Knights of the Dragon and related storyline I was quite taken by the story. I enjoy how the tale of the spider was turned into something fare more intriguing with the inclusion of Affraig. I also quite liked the portrayal of the Bruce family's animosity toward the Comyns, the tension is palpable and the distrust deep seeded. Young Robert's tumultuous relationship with his father truly helps to understand his character as does the relationship with his grand-father. Though that one far warmer and understanding.

There is no question here that Robyn Young can write, and well. Some might say a bit wordy at times, but I like that sort of thing, so I didn't get that feeling too often or for very long. Her vivid battle descriptions are wonderful, though I like my warriors a little more gritty, but hers fit the style of her writing. Again, it's this staying true to her tale that makes someone very familiar with this period accept, or not even notice the little things. I am set to read the next instalment soon, and am looking forward to it as I really do want to there to be another good story about this period and these people.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Letters From Skye - Jessica Brockmole

Epistolaries are stories told through letters. They are also the means by which, if ever the e-mail system ever falls apart, people will be able to quickly learn how to communicate in writing. The art and skill of writing 'snail mail' is slowly eroding and there may come a time when people no longer know how to write to others in fewer than 150 or so characters. While texts, short emails and social media are good for the quick and immediate, they sacrifice our ability to savour words, to hold what we can of another in our hands and comes without a particular scent. I recently shed a tear when I saw a blog about people who write emails that are considered too long or wordy.

Brockmole begins her novel by having a Scottish poet receive her first fan letter from an American college student. They continue to communicate through letters despite numerous changes in their lives that include marriage, loves, loss, family matters, and two World Wars. We learn about each of the characters' quirks and strengths, their sense of fashion and deepest desires. They help each other work through fears, and the trust developed works as a strong curative for when misunderstandings are finally explained. This is a problem; hurts are easily set aside, deceptions ignored and their results tacitly accepted, and the story becomes less believable.

The author does deviate from the epistolary model to reveal certain key moments. This is unfortunate, as these appear closer to the end suggesting that the author ran out of ideas as to how to make it work, writing herself into a corner so to speak. These are few and while they do not detract the reader completely from the story they begin to add to the lack of believability. However, I can see where for some readers it might not be a big thing as by the time they occur, the reader might be far too invested in the characters and the story itself to really matter.

Perhaps I'm wrong, but I think that for people who are reading this as an historical romance, it probably works very well. For those reading this as an epistolary novel, probably less so as there are some obvious problems. The success of this novel may depend greatly on how it is marketed.

I received this from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

Review first appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Hannibal: Fields Of Blood ~ Ben Kane

Having stubbornly ignored most Roman historical fiction until recently I find myself playing catch-up with a chariot-load of tremendously good authors. One such author is Ben Kane, whose first Hannibal instalment won me over enough that I've since bought several books from his other series. Noticing that the second instalment of the Hannibal series was available from the publisher via Netgalley I threw caution to the wind and applied for it, never thinking they'd let me have a go. I'm quite happy to report, I was wrong; they decided to honour me with a copy. Huzzah for me!

Fields of Blood picks up just a couple weeks from where Enemy of Rome left off. The two male protagonists are still working toward trying to impress the leadership, and Aurelia is still trying to fight for her independence. Of course, in a world where the worth of a decision has more to do with how many are affected adversely than the minor success it might have engendered, neither of the three young people has an easy time of it.

In the first instalment Hanno the Carthaginian came into his own; in this one we really get a sense of Quintus's growth and abilities. No longer seeking to please his father, Quintus matures into his own man, capable and self-aware. Aurelia learns tough lessons when she speaks before thinking, while Hanno discovers things about his family he finds disconcerting. Each experience dangers they probably never thought they ever need to face and their not even on the battlefield yet.

The battles scenes are the superior part of this novel. There were battle scenes included in the first novel of the series, but the ones in this book far exceed those. There is a real sense that Ben Kane has worked this through in his mind for a long time, that he has strategized every moment, even those of participants never once mentioned in the book. It is obvious that the battle of Cannae is a part of history that he is passionate about as the descriptions jump right off the page in colour, depth and scale. Because he's poured so much into the battles of this book, he will be hard-pressed to outdo himself in the final instalment of the trilogy. However, I expect he would say that he's up to the challenge.

I had enjoyed Enemy of Rome, but Fields of Blood is a stronger book on all levels and I don't want to wait for An Island Aflame, which I envision to be stronger yet.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Stockholm Octavo ~ Karen Engelmann

What do a collection of fans, a tarot spread. Freemasons, and revolutionary Europe have in common? True love of course.

This novel is a first person narrative from a young-ish man who must find himself a wife lest he lose his position as a Sekretaire - an exciseman. Emil Larsson supplements his income by conducting under-the-table deals with smugglers and gambling. The answer to all his troubles arrives when he is offered an opportunity to have an Octavo read by the owner of his preferred gambling house. The Octavo - a tarot spread that does not answer one's question, rather it helps to identify the 7 individual who will affect the answer through their involvement in the questioner's life.

Life is never easy, and while Emil searches for the 7 individuals who will control his fate, the nobility is in fear of spreading revolutions, while the Swedish king is contemplating a more democratic approach to government. Thus begin conflicting conspiracies disguised by fans and scarves, but who ends up the winner is never truly certain, and Emil only cares about finding himself the perfect partner.

Credit is due to the author for weaving the use of fans to communicate, the concept of a Divine Geometry, news of revolutions as a fabric for love. This alone provides for an intriguing tale, however I did find that the initial set up for the story - an investigation seemed to be lost in their midst. I found it a bit difficult to separate the 'investigator' Emil from the 'participant' Emil. As a result, I often had to put the book down and over think the chapters I'd just read. This isn't to say that it's a bad book. On the contrary, I think it's a wonderful story, but one that requires the reader to be significantly more engaged than they might wish.

Having said that, if the reader is seeking an intricate fiction regarding King Gustav III of Sweden's death, then this should appeal. As noted above, the approach with the tarot is less about future divination than it is a catalyst for inspiration and motivation, rather than prophesising the future.

I will admit that I was also quite happy to see the octavo drawings included as I could not visualise them on my own. I had some vague idea, but to keep track of eight cards, who they represent for each of the octavos discussed simply would have been messy without the added support. Greedy as it might sound, it would have also been nice to have been able to see Cassiopeia as well as I still do not understand the shape. I never was any good at geometry.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Tudor Conspiracy ~ C.W. Gortner

I expect that few could argue that Henry VIII's extensive efforts for a male heir did nothing for the stability of England upon his son's passing. This along with notions that women could not possibly make good leaders affected politics in Europe on nearly the same scale as William the Bastard's conquest of the isle. Only instead of having the nobility marry off their daughters to strengthen ties, the continental Kings were looking to their sons to impress a Queen long enough that she would give her hand and eventually the reins to her country. Ultimately, women proved themselves up to the task by maintaining power but at great sacrifice.

In the second instalment of his Spymaster Chronicles, Gortner has the wizened Prescott returning to Mary's court in hopes of saving Elizabeth from making a foolish move against her sister. With a palace filled with suspicious (and suspicious looking) Spaniards, attractive noble women, and the murder of a friend conspiring to distract him from his task, Prescott's biggest challenge is still his boss, the independent-minded Elizabeth.

As Prescott works toward his goal, the reader is reacquainted with some of the characters in the previous novel including the Dudleys, the dangers of court life as well as those lingering beyond the palace gates, and is introduced to a whole new host of powerful decision makers, spies and ways to torture and kill them. In the previous novel I sometimes felt a little out of the story - that it was perhaps not descriptive enough, or that I just couldn't envision what Gortner was trying to paint for the reader. I'm pleased to say that this time, I could see the River Thames iced over and hear the galloping of horses.

While I had no problem conceptualising a spy novel in Tudor England, I wasn't sure how this historical James Bond could gain access to the Royal courts again. The author had created an entry in the last novel that I had not thought of, but I do not see how he will accomplish it next time. As a result of this clever ploy, I am looking forward to seeing what mess Gortner has Bess drop Prescott into and how the poor spy manages to extricate himself.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Robert B. Parker's Ironhorse ~ Robert Knott

Whenever my mates or family members are handed a box of second-hand books they set aside the westerns for me. Apparently, I am the only person they (and I) know who reads them. They were the first historical fictions that I'd ever read and I'm still drawn to the wild, expansive scenery and experiencing the growth of settlements into, villages, into towns which finally become cities. The thing that truly intrigues me most are notions of, and distinctions between law and justice, and how neither is really down to an agreed set of moral or ethical values.

Robert B. Parker wrote two series that I enjoyed tremendously; Spencer and Virgil Cole & Everett Hitch. The former is a hardboiled gumshoe in Boston, the latter, a western series with two no-nonsense characters charged with keeping law and order. When Parker died in 2010 and his completed forth instalment was published posthumously I assumed that Virgil and Everett had been written off into the sunset. However, Robert Knott who co-wrote the film adaptation of the first book in this series Appaloosa was enlisted by the Parker family to carry the torch.

Sometimes I feel as though when an author has left this mortal coil, his or her characters have as well. However, there are some good examples of where another is able to capture the essence of the those characters and the late authors' phrasing, intent and drama. Robert Knott falls within this group. I was worried that Cole and Hitch would change, become more verbose or more super-human, but Knott gratefully kept the two as sensible and contained as the late Parker had.

Deciding to return home via train, giving their horses a rest, the two protagonists unexpectedly find themselves defending the passengers against a gang of robbers mid-heist. The main problem is that these robbers happen to be former nemeses of Coles' who've all joined forces, including Bloody Bob Brandice who was thought to have been killed by Cole twelve years before. As they seek out the miscreants, they discover the magnitude of damage the theft would cause for the future of country and who it would empower all the while Cole works through his domestic troubles.

Virgil and Everett's relationship is still relaxed even with the odd tense moment. Their complete trust in each other and the knowledge of each other's skills and weaknesses is still powerful and times quite comical, as they have always been. The seemingly casual attitude toward danger also has not changed. My only criticism is the lack of times Cole defers to Hitch regarding word selection during a banter with a 'baddie'. I had always found those moments realistic, an example of how when focused on some particular task, the mind might not be able to process what it should already know. I do hope that this is not the end of Virgil and Everett, and would not hesitate to read another should Knott pen it.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Crossing The Wire: One Woman's Unlikely Journey To The Afghan War, And Her Surprising Revelations About The Dangers We Face ~ AnnaMaria Cardinalli

The Human Terrain System is group of individuals hired by the United States Army. I include their definition here to ensure the best understanding possible.
"The Human Terrain System develops, trains, and integrates a social science based research and analysis capability to support operationally relevant decision-making, to develop a knowledge base, and to enable sociocultural understanding across the operational environment."

The Human Terrain System (HTS) has piqued my interest for several reasons since its inception. I was in my second year of sitting anthropology and we debated the topic twice in one my classes. The first time in terms of ethics (i.e. an institution with strong biases hiring people who should be unbiased to collect and analyse cultural data), the second time in terms of safety for the social scientists, the communities being analysed, the military and the insurgents. We knew that the debates were flawed as we only had a portion of the information needed to comprehensively argue any point. What we had were journalistic accounts and opinion pieces, and our own thoughts on ethics and biases. What we were missing were the thoughts and opinions from members of the HTS and members of the communities being researched. I don't know if there are any English offerings about the latter, but this book deals with the former.

Set mostly in a diary format, with narratives of the author's pre-HTS history, AnnaMaria Cardinalli gives us a glimpse of what being a female member of the HTS was like, particularly after a member had succumbed to burn injuries after being doused with petrol and set alight. Cardinalli begins by explaining that one of the motivations for writing the book was to clarify information she felt was either misrepresented or taken out context by the press and some government institutions. What she ultimately discovers is that when wanting to dominate, a society will redefine acts (in this case sexual) and abuses to justify the subjugation of women and the young.

While it takes a while to get to her conclusions, she is able to relate nearly all of her own experiences to her revelations. This might seem odd initially, but how women are treated in male dominated areas within Western societies (i.e. the military, media and within the law) are not so far from those she uncovered in Afghanistan. I'm not sure if she meant to actually note this implicitly or if it's accidental, but while the dangers are couched as a way of understanding the cultural situation in parts of Afghanistan, it seems quite the allegorical statement for our own part of the world.

I didn't always agree with some of her opinions on the justifications for the HTS, but her well balanced arguments and documented conclusions are hard to argue. For that reason, I'm thankful for having been given the opportunity to review Cardinalli's work, and I recommend it to anyone who is looking for information on gender issues generally, but of parts of Afghanistan specifically, or for those seeking the perspective of a member from the Human Terrain System.

This is the part where I disclose that I was awarded a copy of this e-version of the novel by the publisher through Netgalley.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Ratcatcher ~ James McGee

Ever since I saw a theatrical production of Oliver Twist, in an outdoor theatre of an evening in the dead of winter, when I was 6 or 7 years old, I've been fascinated by the people fully immersed in the underground economy because of characters like Dodger, Fagan, Sikes, Nancy and their nemeses - the Bow Street Runners. I wanted to meet these people who roamed in the alleys of my city, until the librarian tried very hard not to laugh when telling me that Pentonville, Newgate and Islington were in the other London. Though completely deflated regarding my inability to meet with these people it did not dissuade me from my love affair with The Artful Dodger, Dickens and the men of the law.

With the exception of a couple of online games, I did not realise there were fictions about the Bow Street Runners, therefore, when it appeared in a group read monthly poll a while back I was beyond excited. It didn't win, but I made sure to add the Matthew Hawkwood character to my reading list anyway.

What I like about McGee's characters is that they have strong convictions and stand by them. Sometimes an author will define a character as having particular characteristics but when challenged, it becomes muddled. McGee doesn't do that. That isn't to say that there aren't weaknesses. I truly enjoy Matthew Hawkwood as a person generally; but I'm not sure how an intelligent man with such obvious physical talents ends up needing to be rescued whenever he gets into a sticky spot. I fail to understand how these characters survive. I expect that this was by design, as generally speaking, Bow Street Runners were not known to have partners. Usually there were about six of them working for the magistrate and that was it. What McGee has done is made room for Hawkwood to have a partner handy who he trusts and can depend upon. I am hoping that Hawkwood is able to get himself out of most future scrapes in future instalments.

The story itself is quite interesting with Napoleon and his interest in the East and tapping into that American revolutionary spirit all the while giving Wellington nothing but grief. As a result Hawkwood is more of an early incarnation of MI5 than a Runner. The novel features the required elements for a good detective mystery with treachery and deception, accidents and street urchins along with everything else one expects from 19th century London, with the added benefit of new naval technology. I also found that the author was able to impress how someone not from The Rookery might have felt, being that it's an obvious location for any number of shady goings-on, every corner fraught with danger, creating a sense of urgency and fear. For that, I'll be reading the next in the series.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Lady Macbeth: On The Couch ~ Alma Bond

While I have seen a few incarnations of "That Scottish Play" by Shakespeare I never studied it. I am, however, relatively well informed about the historical Macbeth and family. There is an important distinction here, that I probably should have paid attention to when offering to read this book at Netgalley. In my defence, I never expected my name to be selected.

This story is Alma Bond's narrative of the Lady Macbeth as is characterised by William Shakespeare. It is crucially important to remember this fact when reading the text, particularly for anyone who reads a considerable amount of historical fiction and is less enamoured by The Bard. It certainly limits the amount of nitpicking about anachronisms and the like. Whether the same is true for the Shakespearian boffins I cannot say.

Written from Lady Macbeth's perspective, the story begins when she is still in her childhood, still living with her father. I quite like this bit, it felt natural and the narrative flowed nicely and I felt I was reading a book. At this stage I forgot that I was not reading an historical fiction per se, but it was done with such confidence that it had the feel of having been a heavily researched story. Then the narrative changes a bit, and one realises that the story is now required to fit into a familiar tale. Therefore, while the parts prior to her marriage to Macbeth seem to serve the reader, the rest of the book serve the play. As a lover of historical fiction I felt the loss of connection with immediate effect.

The 'historical fiction' portion of the tale is about a woman growing up with dreams and goals, and a young lady wanting what young girls generally want, an attractive, strong husband. The 'play' portion is mostly about a young woman (though she would still be considered a teen in our world) who is whinging about her unmanly husband because he's hedging about taking monarchical matters into his own hands. I'm sure there is a psychological term for this about-face in character, and while I connected with Bond's Lady, I felt alienated from Shakespeare's. Which is unfortunate, because I was really enjoying the read. I wonder if the opposite is true of those who studied the play.

All this makes me wonder if perhaps I'm not the right audience for this book. Although, I think I am supposed to be, because had the constraints of the play not existed, I think it would have been quite a unique and sympathetic approach to explaining Lady Macbeth and might have gone a long way to understanding why she perhaps should not be so vilified. I believe that Bond's skills lie in explaining the conditions of time and place fill, as well as in creating an understanding of a young woman's motivations in such a game of kings - all things that I think Shakespeare missed. Though, in the Bard's defence - he was writing the story for a very different purpose.

I do have one point of contention that I need I cannot fail to mention. Despite understanding that this story is based on a play, but there is no reason that anyone should be wearing an ocelot anything during Macbeth's reign. Ocelots are from Central and South America - lands that were not yet 'discovered', nor was there yet any trade with them in the 11th Century. They would have; however, likely been something of high status in The Bard's time, so if he included clothing made of ocelots and Bond is following this, then I withdraw my objection.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Rivka's War ~ Marilyn Oser

There are books about young women coming of age during times of unrest. There are even novels about Jewish girls growing up in infernal locales. There are tales about Jews in Russia. There are books about Jews at war. There may even be books about Jews in the military during World War I (WWI). Possibly some of Jews during the Revolution in Russia as well. What is rare is a combination of all these things: a Jewish teenager woman enlists in the Russian military during WWI, fighting both on the front and against other Russians while political parties gain supremacy over the Tsar and his family.



Growing up in a small village in Russia, Rivka is a young woman with a yearning for adventure but is culturally limited in choices for her future, while her brother chooses academic pursuits rather than exploring how far the less rigid strictures of society might take him. Frustrated and depressed by what life has to offer her, Rivka is ecstatic when she is sent to visit her brother studying in Petrograd.

Almost immediately she meets with two women who will be the biggest influences on the rest of her life. Both encourage her to shed the notions that woman and especially Jewish women, cannot fight for themselves or their country. Coping with the challenges of becoming a soldier and the cultural differences existing between all the other fighting women, Rivka constantly questions whether she has found her calling and whether she should continue with her adventures.

Oser tells a compelling and empathetic story about a young woman struggling and manoeuvering within a landscape where prejudices and political sentiments change at the whim of the person speaking loudest. As we follow the protagonist through her self-doubt and triumphs we realise that self-determination, whether in times of conflict or not, is achieved through the trials and tribulations of every day life, and that finding 'home' is a desire for us all, regardless of what we do in life.

My only criticism is the sense of time and this has perhaps more to do with me than the author, but I felt that for Rivka time was 'long', even when it was only a few months or so. This story takes place over a period of about four years, but there were times where I felt like there decades between events, only to realise that WWI and the Russian Revolution were still each in their infancy. However, Rivka is quite young and I seem to recall time going slowly when I wanted something desperately, and quite quickly in those wondrous moments.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this novel from NetGalley

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Tudor Secret ~ C.W. Gortner

If anyone were to ask me if I felt there ever was a period, prior to the Cold War that was rife with espionage, I would immediately respond with: The Tudors, especially around the time of Henry VIII and his offspring. This isn't to suggest other periods or families in and out of England weren't affected by secret passageways meetings, just that it seems there wasn't a day with this lot that didn't involve some sort of intrigue. There was plenty of reasons for it: shifts in religion, including the head of the church; shifts in hereditary rights; siblings and relational rivalries; not to mention the host of problems attached to Regency Councils - men hungry for power that isn't 'divinely' theirs to control. Perfect conditions for intrigue to germinate and fester in a plague of deceit and intelligencing.



One of the Dudley family's stable hands is selected to become their oldest son's squire at court, as the head of the family, John Dudley: Duke of Northumberland, controls the youthful King's Regency Council. Upon arriving at court, squire Brendan Prescott is immediately embroiled in the complicated and serpentine lives of Henry VIII's children as the young King lay dying.

What also usually goes hand-in-hand with Tudor stories are heady romances, however, Gortner deftly ensures that the reader gets a spy story first, with a little romance on the side. Prescott is no James Bond and the wooing protocols of the time don't allow for the story to divert too broadly. I was also quite pleased about how the story unravels and the onion like series of plots that Prescott has to work through.

For those familiar with this era, there are likely to be predictable moments, but along with those of us less knowledgeable about this group of young royals and their entourages being guided by the Old Guard, there are some pleasant and sometimes quite shocking surprises.

My one small criticism, though it will hardly prevent me from reading the next installment, is the use of the term medieval. I recall reading it twice and thinking it is completely out of place as the word itself was coined in the 19th century. In the 16th and 17th centuries the period between the fall of Rome and the Renaissance would have been called the Middle Age, but not medieval. I realise I come off as a bit of a pedantic, but truth is, when I'm trying to visualise the buildings that Prescott is describing, I don't know if I'm meant to think of the Middle Age that he could referring to, or architecture that we would identify as medieval today, which would have been modern for the squire. Because I couldn't quite work that out, it was a hard punch that took me momentarily out of the story. It doesn't affect the overall novel, but perhaps something the author might consider clarifying in future installments.

Review was originally located on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Secret Rescue: An Untold Story Of American Nurses And Medics Behind Nazi Lines ~ Cate Lineberry

When new technologies are developed, unforeseen or unexpected uses for them tend to arise. This is probably more true in areas of war and conflict than at any other time. We've seen how military technologies eventually end up in our homes and for our hobbies: microwave ovens; radios and gps, just to name a few. What can also happen is the creation of a cargo plane that can double as medical transport. World War II (WWII) saw this new feature, as well as the consequences of "hot-bedding" an air-force.



In 1944, the Medical Air Evacuation Transport Squadron (MAETS) was created within what is now the U.S. Airforce, to transport wounded military personnel (not just those fighting for the Allies) from the front lines. Medics were hired to help with the loading and unloading of patients while the nurses provided ambulatory services. This book is about 29 members of the 807th and one of the 802nd, who landed in Nazi occupied Albania after their plane succumbed to mechanical problems during a storm while flying over the Adriactic Sea.

Lineberry tells the story of how the combined efforts of the British Special Operations Executive (S.O.E.) and the American Office of Strategic Services (O.S.S.) along with Albanian resistance fighters worked together in rescuing the medical personnel. Although one member had published her memoirs, including this harrowing event, the events had been deemed classified until recently, for the safety of both the military and secret services personnel as well as the Albanians who volunteered or were voluntold to help the thirty stranded Americans. That this tale remained relatively secret, despite the number of people involved is probably the most amazing part of the story.

Despite the scattered official sources and the too few members of the crash still alive after all these years, the author is able to provide a comprehensive version of the events. That she was also able to access photographs of most of those involved is even more astounding. Giving not only a voice to these medical professionals, but allowing the reader to put a face to those who must have been increasingly frustrated at the never ending delays in getting back to safety.

Because Lineberry was limited by the number of personal accounts she could access to tell this story, it occasionally has the feel of an escapees travelogue, rather than a saga of despair and triumph. This is by no means a fault in the writing or the presentation, it is just the reality of what the author had to work with and as a result, there were moments when I was emotionally affected and empathising with the situation, then suddenly plunged into a bit of a dry account.

I do feel that anyone interested in medicos and/at war, or Albania's unique political situation at the time would do well to add this to their collection.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Iron King ~ Maurice Druon

How does one start a war of succession that will last over 100 years? Set a trap that will reveal unforgivable indiscretions committed by your three sisters-in-law of course. You might also consider fanning the flame by setting a couple Crusader Knights alight and imprisoning cart loads more. Oh, and pick your own pope, move him to your country and hope he doesn't die at inconvenient moment.



This is the first instalment in a series of seven books translated from the much beloved French versions...finally. This particular book is the set up for the Hundred Years War. The key characters are introduced and the foundation set for the devastation the lack of a butt in a throne caused an entire continent and the land beyond the English Channel. Add the fact that it begins with the Philip the Fair's decimation of the Knights Templar - thus doing away with the Code of Chivalry, and his insistence in controlling the papacy and there you have it; jealousies all 'round.

One would never know this book is nearly half a century old. The writing is fresh and void of that mid-century stylised verbiage. It's a relatively easy read, chock-a-block with intrigue, murder, mayhem and the kind of plotting that requires a heady constitution. This will certainly make one wonder if it's really worth living in the lap of luxury.

The novel has certainly captured my attention and I'm looking forward to the arrival of the follow up in the autumn.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Pompeii ~ Robert Harris

My first memory of a huge volcanic eruption was Mount St. Helens in 1980. Though I didn't know anyone affected by it, I remember feeling badly for the 57 lives lost. Clearly we've come a long way with our knowledge of volcanoes and their impact on human mortality since 79AD, when Pompeii blew it's top annihilating not one, but two towns, Herculaneum and Pompeii, as no lives were lost when Eyjafjallajökull erupted on Iceland in the spring of 2010.



I really enjoy historical fictions that no only entertain but teach. I had some knowledge of volcanoes prior to reading this, so the new information was less about the eruption and the devastation than how aquaducts work and how any malfunction might signify something of great import. That is how confident the Romans were about their water works. One improper function was quickly identified and solutions attempted. The brilliance of these engineers still amazes, not because we should think them 'primitive' but because nearly two thousand years later we are still trying to get this water business thing right. We have much to learn.

Harris's ease with words and narrative made this novel such an enjoyable read. The characters were so believable that I felt I was there, a fly on the wall, witnessing these important moments between the different classes and the prejudices held between towns. The addition of Pliny and his witnessing of the eruption only added to the atmosphere of the day.

What worked best for me, in a book where most things well anyway, was the main characters walk from safety to Pompeii to save a mate. The description of the heat and the dust-like ash chocking, slowly asphyxiating already stressed lungs; each exhausting step knee deep in ash that simply kept coming and the snaking waves of lava flowing ever more quickly until the end. The fear, the anxiety, the urgency and the final moments of lost hope are so well written that the final chapter, the weakest part of the book, seemed to undo all that intensity. However, this will not dissuade me from taking up another Harris novel.

Review originally posted on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

True Soldier Gentlemen ~ Adrian Goldsworthy

A Wickham, a Bennett, and Darcy Fitzwilliams would suggest a little pride, or perhaps some prejudice is in hand. Alas, no. This text written 198 years after the literary classic, incorporates a 'what happens after' sub-plot in the larger tale of young men sent off to fight Napoleon's troops in Portugal. This ain't your momma's Jane Austen folks.



It had been some time since I'd taken a romp through Napoleonic battlefields and was ready for a rollicking adventure, but found myself asking where the action is after the prologue. I will plagiarise myself as this was what I posted as my initial reaction to the book:

"Right, well the prologue starts off a bit Giorgio Armani, but ends up Captain Correlli's Mandolin."
I'm not certain if it is because it's the first instalment of a trilogy and should be treated as a part rather than a whole, but I found that while the character development was good, I was impatient for battle. Then it occurred to me that I was more anxious, tense and fearful than the characters.

This lack of a sense of impending doom, of being harried to get fit or to get things done, or of cementing a love affair made the whole book feel flat for me. Even Wickham's lack of enthusiasm didn't really catch up to me. After a long thing I felt that perhaps the author had tried to fit too much into the story. Trying to make the overall work a central feature for the dozens of sub-plots, some popping up unexpectedly and in the most random locations, some seemingly altogether out of place and adding no discernible input to the story.

I admit that there is no love lost between me and the likes of Austen, the Brontës, Hawthorne et al..., and as Goldworthy indicates this was an attempt at recapturing the essence of those writers, I suspect this type of narrative is simply not for me. It may very work for those who do enjoy the above noted classics as the writing itself has a lovely cadence and the language is quite nice. I just didn't have the overall pace I was expecting from a book about the Napoleonic wars.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The King's Agent ~ Donna Russo Morin

Prior to 2013 I could have counted the number of books I've read set in, or partly set in Florence using my thumbs. Already this year, I've had to use both, plus a finger! By definition, this would also suggest that I'm not particularly versed about the Renaissance. Turns out I know a bit more about that than I'd thought. I will admit here that I am woefully ignorant of art, and with the exception of the controversy created a few years back about the Da Vinci's The Last Supper, I had not realised how significance between art and religion or faith.



Forence's artistic world is in the cross-hairs as France and Spain tussle for power and control of the papacy. Art collector, Battista della Palla, who has thrown his lot in support of François, is challenged to find a talisman that would ensure the French monarch's supremacy. Aurelia, an aristocrat who had never mingled with the public escapes her shackled life and finds herself embroiled in Battista's procurement scheme.

In a thriller-esque way, the members of Battista's group and Aurelia go through steps to locate a piece of artwork from clues found on other pieces and Dante's Divine Comedy. As one would expect, there is tension, romance, deception, distrust, friendship, camaraderie and a secret society so well hidden, few have heard of it.

As this is not set in an impossibly short twenty-four hour period, the author has time to really explore the legends, the geography and the characters, which makes the book a delight to read. While I really enjoyed the book I found Battista's reaction to Aurelia's disclosure to be out of character, given his feelings on prior betrayals and deceptions. While I accept his understanding of the circumstances, I wasn't convinced that he could just accept it. There is an imbalance in the book, in that Aurelia gets everything and he, ultimately, nothing. I didn't buy it in terms of the plot. However, if I were to alter my thinking about what type of book this is, and consider it an adventurous romance, rather than an historical thriller, then I can see why it works. I'm not really sure how the author defines her novel.

Overall I think that the mystery and connections between Dante's work and those of artists during his time or shortly thereafter is well rounded and plausible. Setting it during the latter part of the Renaissance, provides an interesting twist as there are no modern gadgets, or ease of communication to help along the way. Everything is based on wits, what one's own surroundings and by listening to those who know.

My reservations about the ending notwithstanding, I'll likely read another of Donna Russo Morin's books. ETA: I was asked by the author to provide and honest review in exchange for a copy of the book. While I still await the book that I suspect has been lost in transit, I have procured another copy and given an honest review nonetheless.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Traitor's Emblem ~ Juan Gómez-Jurado

One of the challenges I am attempting to complete this requires that I read a book that has dual story lines, one in the present or near-present and one at least 50 years prior. Reading the back cover of this novel, I thought I had a winner with a Spanish ship rescuing Germans off the coast during WWII, and a son who decades later is informed of the story behind an object given to his father by one of the rescued. The description was a definite draw.



The author weaves an interesting tale that includes secret societies, Nazis, Jews, and the poor in a system filled with animosities between classes and cultures. A young man and his mother are taken in by their wealthy relatives who treat them as servants, unworthy of connection. Due to an horrific incident, they are thrown out into the Munich streets as the Nazis increase their power. As he ages, he seeks out the story of his father, a subject no one is willing to discuss with him. As time progresses and war draws ever nearer, Paul Reiner must make decisions that will change the course of not only his life, but those around him.

Gómez-Jurado wrote this story by connecting a few events and wondering what would happen if they were actually connected. The premise is great and the story is quite good. Not to mention, that it never felt like a translation (which for some is equally important). I liked the adventure of it, and the felt for Paul whenever he had to overcome some new catastrophe. I found myself cheering the lad on more than once. The other characters are equally well written and relateable, as is the tension of the time. Especially the inclusion of Hitler's Beer Hall Putsch, probably the first real violent episode by Nazis against Jews.

My one criticism is that this is not really a dual storyline tale. Only the prologue is set partially in the present, the rest is in the past. Not that I regret reading the book, just that I have to find another to fulfil my challenge.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

The Hangman's Daughter ~ Oliver Pötzsch

When I think of historical fictions set in Germany, my mind automatically thinks 1914 to 1946, usually it's the inter-war period. When I think of witch trials, first I think Salem, Massachusetts in America or 17th and 18th century Scotland. On occasion I think of the Elvira film, but it never occurred to me to look east past the Alps and into mid-seventeenth century Bavaria. I know three things about Bavaria: they speak a slightly different German than those in other areas (and if this is wrong, I need to have a word with a couple of mates), Oktoberfest, and beard growing contests.

I know a bit more than that when it comes to hangmen.



Set around a decade after the end of the Thirty Years War, a 'modern' physician, the local hangman and his daughter work together to work out who is killing the children of Schongau. Through these three characters one gets a real sense of how a society recovering from a war that began without a real cause and ended with less, functions as its members walk a fine line between caution and suspicion. Fearing the unknown, they blame the things they do know about - witches and devils.

It could be difficult for an author to find a way to describe sentiment, fear, morals and ethics with empathy and without ridicule about a world so far removed from our own but Pötzsch does it with finesse. There is a real sense of the conditions, geography and attitudes that lack in some books. Granted my copy is a translation, but I think for the most part the observations and feelings are still the author's.

There are a couple little criticisms, but nothing that would prevent me from reading more of the series. The first is that the fight scenes might have been lost in translation. Perhaps the descriptions are as tangled as the movements, but it's not so bad. The other is the Hangman's "neener-neener" approach to mystery solving. That "I know what step we should take next (or I know who did it), but can't tell you now, because the book would be too short" teasing gets a bit annoying after a while. But again, I can get past it, probably because I'm right there along with him. However, someone less familiar with mysteries might be turned off.

Originally posted on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Watersheds of World History: From Monarchies To Democracy And From Myth To Reason ~ John L. Taylor

Who doesn't want a book that concisely goes over major moments in history in a simplified way? I certainly like books of this sort, as I often want to locate a date quickly and have difficulty remembering the chronological order of leaders, sometimes their names and dates. A question on one history exam asked to list five reasons why Jean Jacques Rousseau was an important personage. The professor generously gave me 50% for my answer; while it was 100% correct in detail it was 0% correct in terms of historical personage - I had written about Robespierre. So, for someone like me, a book about watershed moments seems a brilliant idea.



I don't know whether to complement the author on his courage or deride him for being extremely misleading. I am not particularly fond of titles that skirt the truth about what the book actually contains. This is one of those cases. This is not a book about the watersheds of history, it is a thesis about important moments of religion's impact on the Western world, chiefly the three largest monotheistic ones: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Had I known that this was a book about the history of religion I would not have agreed to read and review it at the author's request. I may have still read it, but I would never comment on such a hot topic, even if written as an historical and largely sympathetic text. I care not to share my knowledge or feelings about religion and as a result choose not to comment on the content.

Unfortunately, I do have one criticism about the text. There are bolded paragraphs throughout the book. There is no explanation as to why this is done, nor did there seem to be a pattern for doing this. On a good note, I don't recall any glaring typos or grammatical issues.

If someone is looking for a book on watershed moments of religion, this might be a good starting point. If, however, you're seeking a book about key moments in history that are devoid, or not credited to religion, this might not be the perfect fit

Originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

A Morbid Taste For Bones ~ Ellis Peters

A twelfth century former Crusader turned naturalist monk is the leading crime scene investigator in Shrewsbury during the first English Civil War (as opposed to THE English Civil war that wouldn't come for another half century). Nottingham can keep their sheriffs, Shropshire has Brother Cadfael.



I always find it difficult to review a book for which I am already familiar with the characters. Having watched the television series, I was able to envision some of the characters and the scenery, which is a good thing; however, this double edge knife also produces a desire for the book to just get on with it. I should know better than to read a book that I know from other media, something I usually tend to avoid.

As you would expect, the first quarter of the book sets the character of Cadfael and the main members of the Shrewsbury Abbey for the rest of the series, and then it finally gets to the actual story. Itself turns out to be both a murder-mystery and an allegorical tale about the validity of what is housed in those saintly reliquaries.

The novel is what I expected it would be for a twenty-five-plus year old medieval mystery and for the having satisfied my desire for a short romp into the past with eclectic characters. However, my one criticism is that for such an aged tale, you'd think the publishers would have sussed out the typos and duplicate words by now. Though I admit that this failure will not prevent me from reading the other titles in the series.

Review originally appeared on the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy ~ John Le Carré

This is a book that was recommended to me years ago, then again in 2006. That year I finally purchased a copy but did not get around to reading it until recently. I have no earthly idea why it has taken me so long as there have been reminders all along the way, in films, television shows and mentions on other programmes, not to mention friends talking, some raving about it. Having read it, I am embarrassed about my delay.



As a teen in the 80s there was never a question of missing anti-nuclear rallies and the constant threat that either US or USSR would push the red button was a daily concern. Though those things still exist, especially so as more countries are now armed in such a way, but the tension of the Cold War was thick and salient. As an individual with both feet firmly planted in adulthood, Le Carré's novel highlights just how dangerous information in the wrong hands, or wrong information in the right hands was for the planet.

The author laid the groundwork for the now common spy lingo now heard in any film or tele show involving espionage. Though his introduction suggests that he did not necessarily invent all those terms, it is his work that has made them popular (i.e. honey-trap and babysitter). The story itself is pure behind the scenes, "no one else knows this is happening" espionage. It's dirty, full of deceit, misdirection and disappearances, yet the protagonist Smiley is seemingly in control of the situation, even if the situation itself is complete chaos. Being able to balance all of these elements and still come up with a plausible story takes some skill. Which is probably why Le Carré is considered a master.

Though I am obviously late to this party, it will not be the last time Smiley and I spend some time together.

Review was originally posted on the now defunct Dead-Tree Hugger blog.

The Hippopotamus Marsh ~ Pauline Gedge

My knowledge about Egypt begins and ends with the dead, and the names of the Ptolemaic Pharaohs. I think the artwork is lovely and that hieroglyphs should still be common practice as an alternate method of communication. I know a total sum of zero about how the living actually lived;; not the traditions, cultural differences between groups or the religion/faith/belief system. I do know that they had an impressive military system, at least one that was strong enough to lord it over the Canaanites, but I don't know any of the specifics, or the dates. Which is a problem because I haven't quite figured out where precisely in history the story I'm reviewing fits in the then global structure.



Had this novel not been selected as one of the options for a monthly read for a book group I probably would have never picked it up. Unlikely I would have really ever known of its existence. It's a shame really as I would like to support the national talent writing historical fiction. I could probably write an entire novel on my shame in knowing so little about my own country's authors. The few I do know about I've either stumbled across or they were one of the chosen novels for the CBC (national broadcaster) Canada Reads competition where each year 5 celebrities each defend a book released that year. Like all good reality shows, by the end of the day the viewers/listeners vote off one of the books. However, none of this has to do with Pauline Gedge's book, only my ignorance. Compound that ignorance with the fact that I'm not generally drawn to Egyptian historical fiction and voilà.

I'm never sure what to say about a book that I find moves along too slowly regarding a subject I know nothing about. In these instances, what I hope for is a story that will draw me in, or characters with which I will connect and come to love. None of this happened for me. Part of the reason I'm having difficulty in assessing either of these things is that this novel is not self-contained. It is the first book in an epic series. My use of epic here is defined as: the whole must be read to understand its parts. This creates and unfortunate catch-22; by forcing the reader to read all three novels before deciding whether they liked it eliminates those like me who know nothing of the period and haven't found anything to encourage them to continue.

I will say though, that I am now educated in certain traditions and aspects of Egyptian culture and also the conflicts between them and the ruling Setiu. Perhaps the rigidity of these traditions is why I felt the characters stiff and unappealing, which for someone more familiar with the era might find in perfect keeping. Despite all this, and the unlikelihood that I'll continue with the series, is the lack of delineation between the narrative and a characters thoughts. There was no change in text, font or paragraph; nothing at all to suggest that there was a shift in point of view. As a result I found the read a bit of a chore as I, the reader, had to work at making the story flow, a job I have always assumed was up to the author.

Having said all that, if this is an area of interest, I think the overall trilogy could be quite good. The concept of the story is interesting, and if the pace of the last 60 pages or so continues in the following instalments, then I think even perhaps a winner.

Review originally posted at the now defunct Paternoster Row Legacy blog.