The Silent Companions

The Silent Companions

by Laura Purcell

Blurb:

When newly widowed Elsie is sent to see out her pregnancy at her late husband's crumbling country estate, The Bridge, what greets her is far from the life of wealth and privilege she was expecting . . .

When Elsie married handsome young heir Rupert Bainbridge, she believed she was destined for a life of luxury. But with her husband dead just weeks after their marriage, her new servants resentful, and the local villagers actively hostile, Elsie has only her husband's awkward cousin for company. Or so she thinks. Inside her new home lies a locked door, beyond which is a painted wooden figure —a silent companion —-that bears a striking resemblance to Elsie herself. The residents of The Bridge are terrified of the figure, but Elsie tries to shrug this off as simple superstition--that is, until she notices the figure's eyes following her.

A Victorian ghost story that evokes a most unsettling kind of fear, this is a tale that creeps its way through the consciousness in ways you least expect--much like the silent companions themselves.

My Reaction:

Hm.  Unfortunately, I didn't like this one as much as I hoped I would.  (I'm beginning to think my horror tastes don't align sufficiently with the "booktuber" who recommended this.  I keep feeling let down by their suggestions.)

There were a few creepy moments, but I didn't find it all that scary, actually.  I was more frustrated than frightened, which is never a good thing in horror.  I could see most major plot-points coming from far away, so there was no element of surprise, either—and now that I sit here thinking about it, there are several things that weren't explained, unless I missed it.  (I'll get into that in the spoiler section below.) 

I think I had difficulty getting into the story because it didn't feel authentic.  (I know, I know: It's paranormal horror!)  Some of it just felt too modern for the time periods represented.  For instance, there's a multi-volume journal penned by a female character who lived in the 1600s.  I don't think that was likely, to begin with, but to make it worse, it's one of those "only exist in fiction" diaries that go into far more detail (including transcriptions of conversations) than any real diary ever does. Unfortunately, things like that gave the book an amateurish feeling, in my opinion.

It's okay, but I don't get all the enthusiasm for this one. 

SPOILERS

to

follow...

So, the plot holes, unexplained parts of the story, or whatever you want to call them... I guess you can just wiggle your fingers and whisper "Magic!" to explain away some of these things, but they annoy me.  

First, why does the companion that is known as "Hetta" so closely resemble Elsie?  They are not connected by blood.  Maybe they don't look that much alike? I can't recall if it's only Elsie who observes a resemblance... 

Second, the way the original silent companions are introduced into the story is strange.  We are given the impression that the mysterious shopkeeper knows there's something odd about them and seems to almost trick Anne into buying them.  Then when she tries to return them, the whole building is gone.  ...Huh?  What's the sinister history of the companions?  Are the companions the source of the evil that later contaminates Hetta—and if not, what are the odds that Anne would have such crappy luck (evil kid and evil home decor, totally unrelated)? 

It definitely feels like there was something wrong with the shopkeeper, and by extension the companions, even though they apparently never killed anyone until after Hetta's blood seeps into them and she possesses them, or whatever else is meant to have happened to make them evil and capable of murder.  And then there's the fact that Elsie seems to think that the companion version of Rupert (her deceased husband) is holding his soul captive and tormenting him.  (It seems like there was another character who may have been trapped inside a companion, but I can't recall for certain...) What's going on with that?!  It's never really fleshed out to my satisfaction. 

Third, are we supposed to think that Hetta was actually born evil, or... what?  She seems like she's just a bit fey and misunderstood (and poorly treated by her father) until she's forbidden to perform for the King and Queen, at which point she promptly turns evil in an extreme overreaction that makes no sense whatsoever.  

What's up with the splinters?  I'm not clear about how people would be getting splinters from contact with painted, clothed wooden figures that don't seem to be particularly roughly textured.  And how in the world does Elsie's unborn baby end up covered in splinters?!  (Yeah, it's one of the creepiest parts of the book, but it makes no logical sense whatsoever, as far as I can see.) 

Are we supposed to doubt Elsie?  Is she an unreliable narrator?  I never really doubt anything she says, so if that's the intention, maybe that's another part of what's missing.  

Are we supposed to like Jolyon?  Blurgh.  Couldn't stand the guy.  I get it that Elsie loves him (and that he's actually her son conceived through incestuous abuse, reading between the lines), but... I think he's kind of a jerk, if I'm honest. Not that I liked Elsie much, either.  None of the characters are especially relatable. 

Night of the Crabs

Night of the Crabs

by Guy N. Smith

Blurb:

The Welsh coast basks in summer tranquility, then the drownings begin... Not until the monstrous crustaceans crawl ashore, their pincers poised for destruction, does the world understand the threat it faces....

My Reaction:

This was selected for the 372 Pages We'll Never Get Back podcast, and as usual, Donald and I read it together.  

I was expecting this to be a slightly sillier version of Jaws.  (I've never read the book, but I've seen the movie very many times.)  It was even sillier than I'd expected—and surprisingly risqué.  (Perhaps that aspect is less surprising when you read the author's biography and see the other types of "literature" in his bibliography.)  

SPOILERS follow...

The marine biologist/renowned botanist/professor/very "with it" uncle of what's-his-name isn't quite as brilliant as he thinks he is, but then again, everyone in this book is kind of dumb!  

There's an obvious hole in their first big plan to thwart the evil crabs, and everyone is SHOCKED when the plan doesn't work—but then they have another idea that seems so stupid it couldn't possibly work, so of course it does.  

Except... There are no dead crabs under the sea or washing up on shore... And didn't they just go through a time when the crabs were nowhere to be seen... and everyone became complacent... until the crabs resurfaced and killed a whole bunch of people?  Nah, I'm sure it'll be fine this time!  

I don't care for creature-feature monsters that are too impervious to everything that should by rights kill them.  Sure, they're big and armored, but I'm not buying that they're invulnerable to fire or that you can't, you know, aim for their eyes and blind them with good old-fashioned bullets. 

We never do get a satisfying answer as to where they came from—and why only now.   The whole scene with Cliff Davenport (full name, please) spying on the planes at the military base, being shut in "the hole" and then interrogated—leads nowhere!  Very disappointing.  

The only part of the book that actually felt creepy was the poor train engineer (I guess?) who has had a prophetic recurring nightmare about his death that then comes true.  I don't know why, but that gave me a genuine chill.   

Oh well.  The story ends with Cliff Davenport and Pat Benatar Benson heading off to London to marry and live happily ever after (or at least until they learn that the crabs survived, because this is the first of a series of 7—SEVEN!!—books). 

My Brother Michael

My Brother Michael 

by Mary Stewart

(Edited) Blurb:

Camilla Haven is on holiday alone, and wishes for some excitement. She had been sitting quietly in a crowded Athens cafe writing to her friend Elizabeth in England, "Nothing ever happens to me..."

Then, without warning, a stranger approached, thrust a set of car keys at her and pointed to a huge black touring car parked at the curb. "The car for Delphi, mademoiselle... A matter of life and death," he whispered and disappeared.

From that moment Camilla's life suddenly begins to take off when she sets out on a mysterious car journey to Delphi.  The ride was Camilla's first mistake... or perhaps she had unintentionally invoked the gods. She finds herself in the midst of an exciting, intriguing, yet dangerous adventure. An extraordinary train of events turned on a nightmare of intrigue and terror beyond her wildest daydreams.

My Reaction:

I listened to an old audiobook recording of this novel (the Chivers Audio Books version), looking for something relaxing to enjoy while piecing my current quilt project or making watercolor doodles.  It served that purpose well.  This isn't my favorite Mary Stewart "travel mystery"—felt like it took a while for me to get into the story, and it felt more dated than some of the others (or maybe it's just me that has changed)—but it's fine.  

If you like Mary Stewart, you'll probably enjoy this, too, but I wouldn't suggest it as a first choice.  I think there's a reason this one seems to be less well known than The Moon-Spinners or Nine Coaches Waiting, for instance. 

Zero Days

Zero Days

by Ruth Ware

Blurb:

Hired by companies to break into buildings and hack security systems, Jack and her husband, Gabe, are the best penetration specialists in the business. But after a routine assignment goes horribly wrong, Jack arrives home to find her husband dead. To add to her horror, the police are closing in on their suspect—her.

Suddenly on the run and quickly running out of options, Jack must decide who she can trust as she circles closer to the real killer.

My Reaction (with SPOILERS):

I am under no illusions about most of the modern thrillers I read. They are what they are, no more and no less—but some certainly are better than others, and this one had some problems.  

The biggest issue for me was repetitiveness.  The book opens up with a fairly active scene that's about as interesting as anything that happens later the story, but unfortunately, it soon gets bogged down with Jack's grief over her husband, despair over her present and future prospects, and discomfort after an injury.  

Is it realistic that a woman in her situation, newly bereaved and mired in such a shocking set of circumstances, would find her mind going in circles, treading the same ground over and over again?  Yes, absolutely!  Is it in any way enjoyable to read a book where the heroine's mind is going in circles, treading the same ground repeatedly?  Emphatically NO.  It's boring, at best.  I got so very sick and tired of listening to the narrator (audiobook) go on and on about Gabe and how he's now dead. It's just too much.  (My sympathy eventually dies along with him, I'm afraid.) 

After Jack's injury, we're treated to frequent updates on its status, and that, too, becomes just too much.  

Then there's the fact that Jack is missing obvious things that someone in her profession (or anyone of reasonable intelligence and familiarity with the modern world) should probably catch.  (Though to be honest, this bothered me much less than the never-ending grief monologue. I can accept that she's off her game, given the circumstances. Just... Maybe lay off the "I'm damn good at my job" stuff for a while when you're making stupid mistakes left, right, and center.)

This is more of an audiobook-specific complaint, but the male voices were... not good, in my opinion.  Listening to the two male characters with Cockney accents irritated me greatly.  (Gabe's constant refrain of, "Babe, you GOT this!" haunts me still.)  And as for the villain.  Oh my gosh.  He sounds like a cartoon villain. So incredibly annoying.  (And was he supposed to sound rather "posh"?  Because I thought he at least bordered on that, which felt odd and out of place for the character.)  Actually, come to think of it, Jack's own voice is frustrating to listen to, at times.  Whenever she tries to blend in or wheedle someone, she slides into this extremely tiresome whining voice that would make any right-thinking person take an instant dislike to her and be less likely to want to assist her!

I think that's enough nit-picking.  Those are the things that stuck with me most.  It's too bad, but this wasn't one of the author's best books.  

Society Place: A Ghost Story

Society Place: A Ghost Story

by Andrew David Barker

(Edited) Blurb:

Set during the blazing English summer of 1976, recently widowed Heather Lowes moves into the house where she was supposed to live with her husband.

But now she is alone.

Or at least, she thinks she is...

My Reaction:

Warning: There will be spoilers in this mini review!  

I saw this title recommended somewhere and thought I'd give it a try, since it was available to read for free.  I enjoyed the early part of the book, but further along in the story, I began to lose interest.  I just skimmed the last section to see if it ended as expected. (It did.)

I could nitpick, but the biggest problem by far was the characters' lack of gumption, which was tiring and frankly unbelievable.  If you want me to accept that all these people were living on a haunted street and wouldn't have found some way of leaving, you need to explain that more fully.  I guess we're supposed to assume that they couldn't afford to move or that things weren't that bad until starting in the summer of 1976, but none of that is explained to my satisfaction.  Why did it take so many decades for someone to do the obvious and burn the place down?  Rafferty's own mother suggested as much.  Nearly everyone in this book is cursed (or something).  Most of them seem to just accept that they're cursed—and it's very frustrating to read!  I can't stand books or movies where the characters just give up.  I suppose Poppy doesn't give up, but... Eh, it's too little too late, as far as I'm concerned!

I don't know. Maybe I'm expecting too much, but I stand by my position that the story and motivations (or lack thereof) needed more fleshing out—not to mention a more diligent proofreader to catch the typos.