This weekend was my first real weekend in Savannah. I wish I could say I spent it exploring the historical Savannah area or downtown but for the most part, I was more concerned with finding a good internet connection . . . the wireless in my hotel has been down the past two days, so I've been hanging out in Barnes and Noble and Panera (I finally found it - I knew it was near Barnes and Noble since I saw two people walk into B&N with Panera pastries). Although, I always feel so much more productive when I take my computer somewhere and do things. You'd figure the internet is the internet so I'd still have the same distractions regardless but I just tend to actually write and get things done when I'm at a cafe. I was actually talking to a friend of mine recently and we were joking about ways we see ourselves, and I said when I was a kid, I'd always imagined myself sitting in a dark study behind a wooden desk with a glass of scotch, smoking, behind a typewriter (not that I wanted to take up smoking but it was part of the image). You know, the stereotypical view of a writer. Now, when I feel like I'd love to be a writer (not that I have anything to write about, I've never even written a short story), I see myself with a shiny laptop and a white chocolate mocha at Starbucks.
Friday was a training holiday so I spent it at Barnes and Noble, a local Wildlife Center (most of the animals were too smart to actually come out in the heat), and explored downtown a little bit. There are a ton of restaurants down there I can't wait to try, and I also had a chocolate praline at a local candy store. I'd never actually had one before since I don't generally like pecans (wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that I couldn't even pronounce the word properly for a large part of my life?) - it was very good.
For the most part, I agree that the Savannah area is very nice, even if I'm disappointed by the fact that some of my favorite chain restaurants are nowhere in the area (such as Chipotle and Red Robin). Unfortunately, Savannah is still about a 45 minute drive to base. Now, in general, the towns right by Army bases aren't exactly famous for having that much to do or being very metropolitan but I'm a bit surprised by how little there is to do in Hinesville. There isn't even a Starbucks (excluding the one on post, which I do, because they have a smaller selection, meaning none of the sandwiches, and they don't accept my Starbucks card). Or a Panera. Yes, I know, these are all little things and it's not like I had them in Germany. Also, the movie theater is cash only. I generally don't like to carry cash on me but fortunately I had some on me for once, and they have an ATM inside anyway (I saw Salt on Wednesday or Thursday - it was fun, but I totatlly saw one of the twists coming due to a storyline from Lost and had some good guesses about other twists just in general - still fun, though).
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Book 80: Dead and Gone
Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris
This is the ninth of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, and as usual, it was a nice quick read when I couldn't focus on deeper novels due to distractions. The novel begins as the shapeshifters decide to come out of the closet, assuming that if the vampires could get a pleasant reception, then they should definitely have no issues being welcomed into society: after all, they are human most of the time.
While things go well on the actual night in Bon Temps and at Merlotte's, Sookie becomes distracted with other things in the next few days (vampire politics, FBI agents wondering how she was able to help save people after an explosion in a previous novel), and only starts noticing some of the more negative effects of the coming out a little later. Her brother's pregnant, and soon-to-be ex-wife, is found dead and nailed to a cross - a possible hate crime against shifters?
Meanwhile, there is a war going on among the faeries - between those that think there should be a connection to the human world which include Sookie's great-grandfather and those that oppose him. Sookie and her friends soon find themselves targets in the middle of this.
She is also still trying to sort out her feelings for Eric and her blood bond with him, and Quinn the tiger also attempts to get in touch with her (honestly, I felt like they had a clean break, and I saw no reason to reintroduce him to the plot).
Overall, it wasn't bad but I have my usual complaint: Harris doesn't have to mention every single character in every novel . . . yes, it's nice to see old favorites but I'd rather see a lot of them less often than a few paragraphs each novel. MINOR SPOILER: Also, I feel like in some ways Harris was cleaning house in this novel, which isn't bad, but I wish all the deaths of actual characters could have had a bit more time devoted to them. While I like the Sookie of the novels much more than the Sookie of the books, I still don't quite understand why everyone is so willing to die for her . . .
This is the ninth of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, and as usual, it was a nice quick read when I couldn't focus on deeper novels due to distractions. The novel begins as the shapeshifters decide to come out of the closet, assuming that if the vampires could get a pleasant reception, then they should definitely have no issues being welcomed into society: after all, they are human most of the time.
While things go well on the actual night in Bon Temps and at Merlotte's, Sookie becomes distracted with other things in the next few days (vampire politics, FBI agents wondering how she was able to help save people after an explosion in a previous novel), and only starts noticing some of the more negative effects of the coming out a little later. Her brother's pregnant, and soon-to-be ex-wife, is found dead and nailed to a cross - a possible hate crime against shifters?
Meanwhile, there is a war going on among the faeries - between those that think there should be a connection to the human world which include Sookie's great-grandfather and those that oppose him. Sookie and her friends soon find themselves targets in the middle of this.
She is also still trying to sort out her feelings for Eric and her blood bond with him, and Quinn the tiger also attempts to get in touch with her (honestly, I felt like they had a clean break, and I saw no reason to reintroduce him to the plot).
Overall, it wasn't bad but I have my usual complaint: Harris doesn't have to mention every single character in every novel . . . yes, it's nice to see old favorites but I'd rather see a lot of them less often than a few paragraphs each novel. MINOR SPOILER: Also, I feel like in some ways Harris was cleaning house in this novel, which isn't bad, but I wish all the deaths of actual characters could have had a bit more time devoted to them. While I like the Sookie of the novels much more than the Sookie of the books, I still don't quite understand why everyone is so willing to die for her . . .
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Book 79: A Game of Thrones
A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin
I read this series for the first time about four years ago after a friend of mine sent me this (he also sent me The Winter King, the first in a King Arthur trilogy that I loved, so he definitely has my confidence when it comes to any recommendations). After I read the first five novels in Butcher's Codex Alera (yes, I should probably write those up eventually), I realized I was in the mood for some more fantasy but wasn't sure where to go next. I feel like I've heard that there is one other really good fantasy writer in particular but I'm not sure if it was Terry Pratchett or Terry Brooks or Terry Goodkind (is there a rule that if your name is Terry, you must write fantasy?), and I feel like I've heard one of them described as a hack so instead I decided to fall back on an old favorite.
It still was an absolutely amazing novel. I remembered rather well the main plot points of this novel since they are such huge turning points but not all the smaller details. My favorite characters continue to be Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. Since the novel is told from so many different characters' perspectives, the readers generally know more than the rest of the characters, and several times, I wanted to shake certain characters and tell them to stop being so judgmental, and stop trusting the wrong people or at least reevaluate their feelings about some characters.
The novel takes place in the fictional land/island of Westeros (when my friend gave me this book originally, he said it was similar to England during the War of the Roses), fifteen years after many of the royals led a rebellion against the mad King of the Targaryen dynasty. Since then, Robert Baratheon has been king and now he asks his best friend, Edward Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and the northernmost part of the Kingdom, to come south to the capital to serve as His Hand, or advisor. Honest and loyal, Ned complies, even after one of his sons has an accident and lies in a coma. He suspects that the last Hand, his friend and mentor Jon Arryn, was murdered, and he finds himself ill at ease with the political intrigues and backstabbing at the court.
While all of this is going on, there is another threat in the North that is introduced in the first pages. The men of the Wall, who have defended the realm against invasions from the north for milennia, are depleted, but it seems they may soon be facing a more important challenge for the realm and its people than they've seen for a while.
And lastly, on the mainland, to the west, the last surviving Targaryens still think of their lost throne and think of ways to get it back. The heir to the throne more or less sells his sister Daenarys into marriage at the chance of getting an army to help him regain his throne. However, as the novel progresses, and Dani grows up some, she realizes that she is stronger and more fit to be in charge than her brother who is a bit of a bully and unwilling and unable to compromise or understand others.
The thing I love about this series is that even though it is fantasy, there really isn't that much magical or supernatural stuff going on. Don't get me wrong, I like that kind of stuff as well, but I just like how much this novel is rooted in characters and political maneuvering. It is only as the novel progresses that more magic starts becoming a part of the series and it is as surprising to the characters themselves as to the reader. In the next novel, someone says that suddenly their spells started working again, better than they had in centuries, and that magic is returning to a world that had already given up on it and abandoned it.
I read this series for the first time about four years ago after a friend of mine sent me this (he also sent me The Winter King, the first in a King Arthur trilogy that I loved, so he definitely has my confidence when it comes to any recommendations). After I read the first five novels in Butcher's Codex Alera (yes, I should probably write those up eventually), I realized I was in the mood for some more fantasy but wasn't sure where to go next. I feel like I've heard that there is one other really good fantasy writer in particular but I'm not sure if it was Terry Pratchett or Terry Brooks or Terry Goodkind (is there a rule that if your name is Terry, you must write fantasy?), and I feel like I've heard one of them described as a hack so instead I decided to fall back on an old favorite.
It still was an absolutely amazing novel. I remembered rather well the main plot points of this novel since they are such huge turning points but not all the smaller details. My favorite characters continue to be Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. Since the novel is told from so many different characters' perspectives, the readers generally know more than the rest of the characters, and several times, I wanted to shake certain characters and tell them to stop being so judgmental, and stop trusting the wrong people or at least reevaluate their feelings about some characters.
The novel takes place in the fictional land/island of Westeros (when my friend gave me this book originally, he said it was similar to England during the War of the Roses), fifteen years after many of the royals led a rebellion against the mad King of the Targaryen dynasty. Since then, Robert Baratheon has been king and now he asks his best friend, Edward Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and the northernmost part of the Kingdom, to come south to the capital to serve as His Hand, or advisor. Honest and loyal, Ned complies, even after one of his sons has an accident and lies in a coma. He suspects that the last Hand, his friend and mentor Jon Arryn, was murdered, and he finds himself ill at ease with the political intrigues and backstabbing at the court.
While all of this is going on, there is another threat in the North that is introduced in the first pages. The men of the Wall, who have defended the realm against invasions from the north for milennia, are depleted, but it seems they may soon be facing a more important challenge for the realm and its people than they've seen for a while.
And lastly, on the mainland, to the west, the last surviving Targaryens still think of their lost throne and think of ways to get it back. The heir to the throne more or less sells his sister Daenarys into marriage at the chance of getting an army to help him regain his throne. However, as the novel progresses, and Dani grows up some, she realizes that she is stronger and more fit to be in charge than her brother who is a bit of a bully and unwilling and unable to compromise or understand others.
The thing I love about this series is that even though it is fantasy, there really isn't that much magical or supernatural stuff going on. Don't get me wrong, I like that kind of stuff as well, but I just like how much this novel is rooted in characters and political maneuvering. It is only as the novel progresses that more magic starts becoming a part of the series and it is as surprising to the characters themselves as to the reader. In the next novel, someone says that suddenly their spells started working again, better than they had in centuries, and that magic is returning to a world that had already given up on it and abandoned it.
Book 78: A Taste of True Blood
A Taste of True Blood: A Fangbanger's Guide edited by Leah Wilson
I'm not nearly as obsessed with True Blood as many other people are. I haven't even seen any of the third season, and will patiently wait until it's on DVD so I can watch it all at once. I think it's fun, if slightly trashy, and I also think it's interesting how different the characters have been portrayed compared to the novels in some ways. My favorite (other than Eric) is probably Lafayette, and yes, while Tara has her moments, I think I am more partial to her than many other viewers. Sookie can get rather annoying sometimes, and I don't always think she acts like a very good friend to those around her. I felt this in the novel with her friendship with Sam, but it's even worse in the TV show with everyone she knows.
Still, I love reading the discussions online about the show, and some of the feminist blogs that like to dissect it afterwards. I wasn't even going to buy this originally, but I read a few essays at the bookstore, and decided to take it home with me. Some of them were definitely better than others. There was one about being a Christian vampire which just irritated me. Some tried to be more analytical and used more research and sources, while others were lighter (though they were all rather light). I think one of my favorite ones was "SOOKEH! Bee-ill! and the Downfall of William T. Compton," just for the title alone.
I also enjoyed one which discussed the usage of color in the show, and a few other essays that focused more specifically on Jason Stackhouse and Tara since their storylines are the ones that diverge the most from the novels.
Overall, entertaining but nothing super-deep. I'm sure everyone that likes that show would find at least one essay they agreed with.
I'm not nearly as obsessed with True Blood as many other people are. I haven't even seen any of the third season, and will patiently wait until it's on DVD so I can watch it all at once. I think it's fun, if slightly trashy, and I also think it's interesting how different the characters have been portrayed compared to the novels in some ways. My favorite (other than Eric) is probably Lafayette, and yes, while Tara has her moments, I think I am more partial to her than many other viewers. Sookie can get rather annoying sometimes, and I don't always think she acts like a very good friend to those around her. I felt this in the novel with her friendship with Sam, but it's even worse in the TV show with everyone she knows.
Still, I love reading the discussions online about the show, and some of the feminist blogs that like to dissect it afterwards. I wasn't even going to buy this originally, but I read a few essays at the bookstore, and decided to take it home with me. Some of them were definitely better than others. There was one about being a Christian vampire which just irritated me. Some tried to be more analytical and used more research and sources, while others were lighter (though they were all rather light). I think one of my favorite ones was "SOOKEH! Bee-ill! and the Downfall of William T. Compton," just for the title alone.
I also enjoyed one which discussed the usage of color in the show, and a few other essays that focused more specifically on Jason Stackhouse and Tara since their storylines are the ones that diverge the most from the novels.
Overall, entertaining but nothing super-deep. I'm sure everyone that likes that show would find at least one essay they agreed with.
Book 77: Grave Goods
Grave Goods by Ariana Franklin
After reading The Serpent's Tale, I was rather pleasantly surprised by its sequel. I feel like Grave Goods avoided some of the missteps of The Serpent's Tale, and had an interesting, if somewhat formulaic, mystery. Yes, Adelia still plays the worried mother, but her daughter is a few years old now, around four or five, and she is no longer quite as frantic about her daughter. For the most part, she has dealt with her relationship with Rowley, or at least her feelings, since they do not see each other.
In this novel, Henry II has been dealing with the rebellious Welsh, who believe that Arthur will come back and lead them. As a result, when a Welsh captive tells him that his uncle had a vision of Arthur being buried in Glastonbury (formerly Avalon . . . and suddenly, I had a strong desire to read The Mists of Avalon again, or Bernard Cornwell's trilogy on the king), he is very interested in finding the body and getting rid of this symbol. A team soon finds two bodies in the graveyard at the directed location, and Henry wants Adelia to do her magic - if she can't prove that the bodies are Arthur and Guinevere, at the least, he wants her to demonstrate that there is no way to prove that they aren't.
Rowley is in the Glastonbury area to investigate the recent fire that destroyed the abbey, naturally leading to some tension (but nearly as bad or annoying as during the last novel). The townsfolk, and the innkeeper, Hilda, in particularly, keeps pointing towards one particular person, and soon Adelia finds herself involved in that investigation as well. Most of the locals are rather peculiar and less than friendly with few exceptions.
I felt like the first hundred pages of the novel were a bit slow . . . it started with the uncle's vision, and then Henry II, but after that, it took a while for Adelia to get in the action. She was traveling with her friend Emma from the previous novel before she finally gets involved with the actualy mystery. Emma, however, ends up disappearing after Adelia is summoned by the king. Eventually, all three investigations end up being solved, sometimes in ways that are connected or at least partially overlapping. Fortunately, it mostly didn't feel like there was too much going on, either, as is sometimes the case with several plot lines.
My favorite character in these novels continues to be Henry II. I've been looking in the history section to see if there are any biographies on him every time I'm in one, but no luck so far. The only result I got on Amazon was one written in the '70s.
After reading The Serpent's Tale, I was rather pleasantly surprised by its sequel. I feel like Grave Goods avoided some of the missteps of The Serpent's Tale, and had an interesting, if somewhat formulaic, mystery. Yes, Adelia still plays the worried mother, but her daughter is a few years old now, around four or five, and she is no longer quite as frantic about her daughter. For the most part, she has dealt with her relationship with Rowley, or at least her feelings, since they do not see each other.
In this novel, Henry II has been dealing with the rebellious Welsh, who believe that Arthur will come back and lead them. As a result, when a Welsh captive tells him that his uncle had a vision of Arthur being buried in Glastonbury (formerly Avalon . . . and suddenly, I had a strong desire to read The Mists of Avalon again, or Bernard Cornwell's trilogy on the king), he is very interested in finding the body and getting rid of this symbol. A team soon finds two bodies in the graveyard at the directed location, and Henry wants Adelia to do her magic - if she can't prove that the bodies are Arthur and Guinevere, at the least, he wants her to demonstrate that there is no way to prove that they aren't.
Rowley is in the Glastonbury area to investigate the recent fire that destroyed the abbey, naturally leading to some tension (but nearly as bad or annoying as during the last novel). The townsfolk, and the innkeeper, Hilda, in particularly, keeps pointing towards one particular person, and soon Adelia finds herself involved in that investigation as well. Most of the locals are rather peculiar and less than friendly with few exceptions.
I felt like the first hundred pages of the novel were a bit slow . . . it started with the uncle's vision, and then Henry II, but after that, it took a while for Adelia to get in the action. She was traveling with her friend Emma from the previous novel before she finally gets involved with the actualy mystery. Emma, however, ends up disappearing after Adelia is summoned by the king. Eventually, all three investigations end up being solved, sometimes in ways that are connected or at least partially overlapping. Fortunately, it mostly didn't feel like there was too much going on, either, as is sometimes the case with several plot lines.
My favorite character in these novels continues to be Henry II. I've been looking in the history section to see if there are any biographies on him every time I'm in one, but no luck so far. The only result I got on Amazon was one written in the '70s.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Book 76: Still Alice
Still Alice by Lisa Genova
When I saw this recently at Barnes and Noble, I remembered seeing it on Nicole's list of top ten books of the past decade on a discussion on the CBR's FB page. Otherwise, I am not sure if I would have picked this up since I don't know anyone with Alzheimers and don't necessarily have an interest in the topic. The novel was incredible, though. I've noticed sometimes it's harder for me to review and write about novels that I really liked, especially when they address deeper topics, because I never feel like I will be able to properly communicate just how impressive they were. As a result, I actually finished this two weeks ago but I've been a little intimidated to write about it.
Still Alice is the story of Alice Howland, a fifty year old professor at Harvard. After noticing that she is becoming more forgetful in odd ways, and finding herself lost on Harvard Yard, a place she has walked by every day for the past thirty years, she becomes rather frightened that there is something wrong with her. While at first she wants to believe it might be menopause, her disorientation makes her fear something more serious, and she tells her regular doctor she wishes to see a neurologist. She is quickly diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimer's (Genova says she tooks some liberties here for plot-purposes - often men and women suffer from the disease for several years before it is diagnosed because doctors tend to think of other reasons for the symptoms rather than Alzheimer's for people in their forties and fifties).
Her family cope in different ways, and have different views of how she and the disease should be treated. There is a sense at the beginning of the novel that even though Alice and John love each other, they have grown a bit distant - they no longer walk to work together, for example, and later Alice thinks that she wishes she rather than his work had been his passion. Alice is very intelligent: after all, she is a cognitive linguistics professor at Harvard, and the idea of slowly losing her entire identity and what has defined her scares her. As a result, she comes up with a set of five questions to ask herself daily to determine if she is still mentally capable or if she should commit suicide - the Alice at the beginning of the novel does not want to be around for the very end, but doesn't want to kill herself at this point and lose what time she does have left as herself with her family. I thought it was incredibly interesting to watch her answers as the novel progresses because I don't think it's quite what the Alice that came up with the questions had in mind. What Alice determines to be an appropriate answer changes over time. If, for example, she orginally asked for an exact date, by the end, Alice considers the response of a season enough.
In ways this reminded me of some debates I've seen online about quality of life and disabilities. While some people might think they would rather die than be disabled in a certain way, it actually disregards people who live with that disability and still find happiness. Or what they would actually do in that situation. Obviously, with Alzheimer's, it's much more complicated, but what Alice once defined as the necessities for happiness are no longer the same by the end. Even though Alice can no longer do most of the things she once did by the end of the novel or recognize many people, she still feels moments of pleasure and happiness. So at what point does life stop being life or become not worth living? Late in the novel, John asks Alice if she still wants to be here, and she says, "yes, I'm not done. I like sitting here with you." They are talking about completely different things, but even in her deteriorated state, Alice can still experience pleasure.
The novel is told from Alice's perspective, though in the third person. As the disease progresses, the writing becomes simpler in some cases. The reader sees things the way Alice sees them but remembers them better, such as when she meets a person twice in the same evening. I thought it was incredibly well done, and as I said, I don't know anyone with Alzheimer's but this felt very realistic to me, and it also didn't feel like the novel was being too heavy-handed or sentimental despite the topic.
When I saw this recently at Barnes and Noble, I remembered seeing it on Nicole's list of top ten books of the past decade on a discussion on the CBR's FB page. Otherwise, I am not sure if I would have picked this up since I don't know anyone with Alzheimers and don't necessarily have an interest in the topic. The novel was incredible, though. I've noticed sometimes it's harder for me to review and write about novels that I really liked, especially when they address deeper topics, because I never feel like I will be able to properly communicate just how impressive they were. As a result, I actually finished this two weeks ago but I've been a little intimidated to write about it.
Still Alice is the story of Alice Howland, a fifty year old professor at Harvard. After noticing that she is becoming more forgetful in odd ways, and finding herself lost on Harvard Yard, a place she has walked by every day for the past thirty years, she becomes rather frightened that there is something wrong with her. While at first she wants to believe it might be menopause, her disorientation makes her fear something more serious, and she tells her regular doctor she wishes to see a neurologist. She is quickly diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimer's (Genova says she tooks some liberties here for plot-purposes - often men and women suffer from the disease for several years before it is diagnosed because doctors tend to think of other reasons for the symptoms rather than Alzheimer's for people in their forties and fifties).
Her family cope in different ways, and have different views of how she and the disease should be treated. There is a sense at the beginning of the novel that even though Alice and John love each other, they have grown a bit distant - they no longer walk to work together, for example, and later Alice thinks that she wishes she rather than his work had been his passion. Alice is very intelligent: after all, she is a cognitive linguistics professor at Harvard, and the idea of slowly losing her entire identity and what has defined her scares her. As a result, she comes up with a set of five questions to ask herself daily to determine if she is still mentally capable or if she should commit suicide - the Alice at the beginning of the novel does not want to be around for the very end, but doesn't want to kill herself at this point and lose what time she does have left as herself with her family. I thought it was incredibly interesting to watch her answers as the novel progresses because I don't think it's quite what the Alice that came up with the questions had in mind. What Alice determines to be an appropriate answer changes over time. If, for example, she orginally asked for an exact date, by the end, Alice considers the response of a season enough.
In ways this reminded me of some debates I've seen online about quality of life and disabilities. While some people might think they would rather die than be disabled in a certain way, it actually disregards people who live with that disability and still find happiness. Or what they would actually do in that situation. Obviously, with Alzheimer's, it's much more complicated, but what Alice once defined as the necessities for happiness are no longer the same by the end. Even though Alice can no longer do most of the things she once did by the end of the novel or recognize many people, she still feels moments of pleasure and happiness. So at what point does life stop being life or become not worth living? Late in the novel, John asks Alice if she still wants to be here, and she says, "yes, I'm not done. I like sitting here with you." They are talking about completely different things, but even in her deteriorated state, Alice can still experience pleasure.
The novel is told from Alice's perspective, though in the third person. As the disease progresses, the writing becomes simpler in some cases. The reader sees things the way Alice sees them but remembers them better, such as when she meets a person twice in the same evening. I thought it was incredibly well done, and as I said, I don't know anyone with Alzheimer's but this felt very realistic to me, and it also didn't feel like the novel was being too heavy-handed or sentimental despite the topic.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Book 75: The Serpent's Tale
The Serpent's Tale by Ariana Franklin
This is the sequel to Mistress of the Art of Death, and I couldn't quite get into it as much. Parts of it definitely were engaging, such as all the political intrigue surrounding the murder of Henry II's mistress, and maybe it was just me, but it seemed rather obvious that someone was manipulating all the different characters to get what he wanted. Also, Franklin gives a rather large clue regarding the identity of the man behind the scenes in the first five pages of the book, so the mystery wasn't really that mysterious: the first five pages are told from an assassin's perspective as he is hired to kill a certain person. While he doesn't see his employer, as an assassin, he recognizes the importance of figuring out who hires him since that way he can be assured to get the second half of his payment. Along with the assassin, the reader is searching for clues, and the first is the man's profession when he addresses a servant with the term "my son."
This is definitely a personal issue, but when characters have children, I tend to have a harder time relating to them, especially if they appear to obsess about them too much, as I felt Adelia was doing at points (I'm sure it was normal behavior, but I could have done without the child - I don't feel like she really added to the narrative). I was also disappointed with Adelia playing the abandoned woman role. Apparently, once Rowley became bishop, they (or she) decided to separate and not see each other again (he had offered her marriage and she rejected because she didn't want to give up being a doctor) yet the whole first half of the book she is moping because he never wrote, and acts angrily towards him for involving her in the case with the king's mistress, Rosamund.
Also, it felt like there were too many characters in this one that weren't really all too distinguishable from each other. It wasn't a bad book but there were parts that seemed to be going nowhere, and there was just more angst in this one. However, once I get started on a series, I generally have a need to complete them, especially when they are relatively easy reads, so I already picked up the third one in the series.
This is the sequel to Mistress of the Art of Death, and I couldn't quite get into it as much. Parts of it definitely were engaging, such as all the political intrigue surrounding the murder of Henry II's mistress, and maybe it was just me, but it seemed rather obvious that someone was manipulating all the different characters to get what he wanted. Also, Franklin gives a rather large clue regarding the identity of the man behind the scenes in the first five pages of the book, so the mystery wasn't really that mysterious: the first five pages are told from an assassin's perspective as he is hired to kill a certain person. While he doesn't see his employer, as an assassin, he recognizes the importance of figuring out who hires him since that way he can be assured to get the second half of his payment. Along with the assassin, the reader is searching for clues, and the first is the man's profession when he addresses a servant with the term "my son."
This is definitely a personal issue, but when characters have children, I tend to have a harder time relating to them, especially if they appear to obsess about them too much, as I felt Adelia was doing at points (I'm sure it was normal behavior, but I could have done without the child - I don't feel like she really added to the narrative). I was also disappointed with Adelia playing the abandoned woman role. Apparently, once Rowley became bishop, they (or she) decided to separate and not see each other again (he had offered her marriage and she rejected because she didn't want to give up being a doctor) yet the whole first half of the book she is moping because he never wrote, and acts angrily towards him for involving her in the case with the king's mistress, Rosamund.
Also, it felt like there were too many characters in this one that weren't really all too distinguishable from each other. It wasn't a bad book but there were parts that seemed to be going nowhere, and there was just more angst in this one. However, once I get started on a series, I generally have a need to complete them, especially when they are relatively easy reads, so I already picked up the third one in the series.
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