Vanish with the Rose

Vanish with the Rose
by Barbara Michaels


Edited Blurb:

Diana Reed will do anything to get to the truth. Posing as a landscape architect at the sprawling estate recently purchased by a newly-wealthy couple, she prowls the strange old house determined to unlock its secrets. But each mystery Diana uncovers is more unsettling than the last, as odd visions, scents, and sounds pervade an atmosphere of dread and barely suppressed violence. And in her zealous search for answers, she may have inadvertently opened a door to something frightening and deadly that can never be closed again.

My Reaction:
It held my interest, but it's not one of the author's best works.  Still, it served its purpose of providing light entertainment.  (That said, it's not the lightest "light entertainment", either...)

I altered the publisher's blurb, because I felt it gave away too much information-- things that you aren't supposed to know at the beginning of the story. 


Specific Tidbits (with SPOILERS):
-- I enjoyed the gardening aspect of the book, since I'm trying to get my own garden into order.  Nothing on the scale of the gardens in the book, of course, but it's more than enough for me.  (Especially since I don't employ a gardener!)

--  "I do wish you'd stop using me as a home for abandoned cacti.  I hate cacti."  I don't like them, either.  They're scary.

--  "'It is later than you think.'  That was a popular motto for sundials-- why, she could not imagine; who wanted to be reminded, when he strolled through a beautiful garden, that his own existence was scarcely less ephemeral?  'Tempus fugit' wasn't much better, especially for people who were probably only too well aware of the rapid passing of time.  Fortunately there were a few cheerful mottoes.  'Count only the sunny hours', for instance."  Yes, "sunny hours" for me, please.  I don't need a reminder of mortality.

--  At one point, Diana is giving the animals their nightly medicine.  "Heartworm pills for all the dogs, as a preventative measure..."  What, every day?  Maybe it just happened to be time for their monthly dosage, because I've never heard of heartworm medicine that had to be given daily.  That would be very inconvenient!

--  The bit about the "world's largest rose bush" (planted in Arizona in 1885) was so intriguing I had to look it up online.  Amazing!

--  "...that nightmare indicated there was something particularly nasty in the woodpile of her subconscious."  Heh...

--  "It would have been an amiably attractive face had it not been for her eyes-- cold as muddy-brown ice and piercing as twin gimlets."  Ah, my favorite!  Brown eyes = mud, of course.  (Sensitive?  Who, me?)

--  Emily is suffering a breakdown of some sort over the continuous noise of demolition.  Her husband notices this and closes the windows.  My question:  Why were the windows open to begin with, when there was demolition work just outside?  Wouldn't they be closed in anticipation of the noise-- not to mention dust?

--  A man about to run a piece of heavy machinery is warned to watch out for the dogs that are loose.  Diana adds a warning about the cats, but no-- "You don't need to worry about them; they have sense enough to get out of the way."  ...Uh, yeah.  Sure.  That explains why cats are never run over by cars...

--  "A dog's face is capable of only limited displays of emotion, but Baby's showed as much terror as a dog is capable of showing."  This is the second time (I think) that I've seen this author write about the limited facial expressions of dogs.  Now, I'll grant you that they are limited in comparison to humans, but dogs actually have very mobile faces, and someone who spends much time with them can learn to read their expressions fairly accurately.  (Just sayin'...)

--  There's heavier cursing in this book than in most of the Barbara Michaels gothic novels I've read to date.  I'm not sure why... It was published in the 90s, so maybe she thought the cursing was necessary to "modernize" it.  

--  "'Maybe I'm not cut out for country living.'  'You get used to it.  At least most people do.' Mary Jo's face softened.  'Poor Andy never has, not really.  He covers up well, and he'll do what's necessary, but he hates the whole scene-- hunting, trapping, the way some of the people around here neglect and abandon pets.'"  ...This is set in Virginia, right?  Or somewhere in that part of the country.  You can argue that hunting and trapping are an element of "country life", but the suggestion that country folk are the only ones who neglect or abandon pets is frustrating.  There's plenty of animal abuse in cities, too.  Also, though I've never gone hunting myself, I fully believe that if it's done the right way, an animal killed for food by a hunter is treated with greater respect (and has lived a better, more natural life) than most of the ones that end up in grocery stores and restaurants.  Anyone who eats meat is being hypocritical if they have a problem with "food hunting". Trophy hunting is another subject altogether...

--  There are a lot of people calling a woman "lady".  Enough that it caught my attention.

--  I know it's supposed to be a joke, but Mary Jo calling Walt an "ignorant redneck" because he didn't understand a reference to Miss Havisham?  Obnoxious.  (I didn't really like Mary Jo as well as I feel the reader is meant to.)

--    I was beginning to think we wouldn't have the typical Barbara Michaels reference to Egypt/mummies in this book, but I should never have doubted!  The air in the shut-off stairwell is "as stale as some old tomb".  Later, there are "the mummified bodies of long-dead insects", and Diana reflects that she has seen "mummies in museum cases" that looked better than the dusty, dirty, cobwebbed Andy.

--  The costume curator/volunteer at the little historical society museum (or whatever it was) tells Diana that she doesn't "get that many sympathetic, intelligent visitors".  No, not out here in the sticks.  *eyeroll*

--  I had to smile when Diana described her multitude of problems as "all the standard plot cliches of contemporary thrillers".  As long as you know you're doling out cliches...

--  Rudbeckia ("plain old black-eyed Susan") is "a vulgar sort of flower, not suited to a formal garden"--  apparently.  I won't argue the point about its suitability for a formal garden, since I'm not especially interested in or knowledgeable about formal gardens, but to call a flower "vulgar" strikes me as pretentious.  You don't like a particular flower?  Fine, but please don't call them vulgar.  How silly!

--   Mercurochrome.  It was obviously an antiseptic, but I've never heard of it before.  We used iodine, rubbing alcohol, or hydrogen peroxide, when I was a kid.

--  "His Aunt Bertha is so cheap she buys her kids' clothes at Goodwill..."  Well, let me just add another underline to the "don't like Mary Jo" sentiment...  Seriously, though!  Mary Jo, as we are so frequently reminded, works hard for her money.  She juggles multiple jobs to put herself through college, and when we get a description of her own clothing, it's clear that she doesn't have much to spend.  Why would Mary Jo, of all people, feel the need to vocally judge someone else for buying second-hand clothes?  If they're clean and in reasonable condition, what difference does it make where they come from?  What a snob!

--  "Cats always pick the laps of the people who don't like them."  Oh?  That doesn't make much sense.

--  When Diana comes back, at the end of the book, she looks at the garden and sees "two giant magnolias" that are raising "stately branches above flower beds filled with bright blossoming annuals".  This is a really nit-picky observation, but I've always heard/observed that flowers (and grass) don't do well under Southern magnolias.  Too much shade, too much root competition.  Also, I don't think it's at all easy to transplant a large magnolia.  ...But whatever.  Carry on.  Dream a happy dream of an Insta-Garden with magical flowers that flourish in dense shade while contending with bullying tree roots.

--  "...How do you think Papa would have reacted if he found his blossom of Southern womanhood in the arms of a dirty foreigner?"  ...Um, what?  This is the kind of thing that crops up in Barbara Michaels books a little too frequently.  Did she have a problem with the South?  Because it certainly feels that way, sometimes.  Disappointing.  Now, I'm not saying that "Papa" wouldn't have had a problem with his daughter having a relationship with a foreigner (especially since the "foreigner" in question was a poor and lowly workman)-- but the whole "blossom of Southern womanhood" thing really puts a special twist on it.  So wealthy, snobbish, controlling Yankee-Papa would've been totally ok with his "blossom of Northern womanhood" falling in love with a "nobody"?  Yeah, I'm sure he would've been overjoyed at the prospect of such a son-in-law. 

--  "Why does a happy ending have to be two people falling into one another's arms?"  True, but kind of funny coming from this author-- and particularly so when spoken by a character on the very verge of... well, falling into another character's arms!

--  When Andy asks Diana why she chose him-- which was a surprise, because it felt like she was leaning toward Walt the whole time!-- she answers that he makes her laugh.  His reply?  "So does Zero Mostel."  ...Huh?  This was written in the early 90s.  That actor died in the 70s.  Andy is 25 or so, which means he would've been a young child when Mostel was still alive and making movies.  Not exactly a topical reference, in other words.  Is it just me, or was that a very odd thing for him to have said? (ETA: Ok, just remembered that they watched The Producers at some point in the book... So it's not quite so out-of-the-blue bizarre, I guess, but I still stand by my initial reaction that it was a weird thing to say.)

--  The joke about the long showers and the water conservation... So romantic.  I like Andy-- and could've liked him (with Diana) more if he'd seemed less like a brother/Mary Jo's destined match during most of the book-- but that was kind of gross, to be honest.  It wasn't the best note to end on, that's for sure!

--  The ghost story explanation was something of a let-down.  As I've seen others comment, it's thin at best.  Though it's implied, there's also no explicit answer to who was scamming Miss Musser-- and certainly no resolution/comeuppance on that score.  Then we have Larry getting the blame for Brad's murder, from everyone but a few in the know.  Not very nice.  I guess it's supposed to spare Diana's mother, but what about Larry's family?  I guess they don't matter!  Brad's murder... Larry's suicide...  Diana's father's suicide... The book's a downer on several fronts.  But since none of it seems real, it's easy enough to not care much, on way or the other. 

-- Not a favorite, but I can't say I'm sorry I read it, faults and all.

The Provincial Lady Goes Further

The Provincial Lady Goes Further
by E.M. Delafield


Blurb:

This is the second in the Provincial Lady series and takes up where Diary of a Provincial Lady left off. The Provincial Lady takes a flat in London where she meets assorted literati and other types, goes to cabarets and casinos and writes about new and memorable characters even as she continues to cope with Robin, Vicky, Robert, Mademoiselle and Lady B.

My Reaction (with mild SPOILERS):
(Shared read-aloud.)

The Provincial Lady is just as amusing here as in the first book.  Mademoiselle's (almost complete) departure from the family means that there is less French to stumble through, which is an improvement.  The Provincial Lady's time in London feels like an endless round of not-quite-pleasant evenings at parties.  There are also references to more cosmopolitan (i.e. scandalous) doings than I recall from the first book, which was set in the country (...thus the "Provincial" Lady).  Some of the topical references flew right over our heads, I'm afraid, but more often than not, there was a cozy recognition of the universal human experience-- that comfortable sensation of "the more things change, the more they stay the same". 

While reading these first two Provincial Lady books, we've repeatedly commented on the odd financial circumstances of the Lady and her family.  They seem always to be worried about a shortness of funds.  It's practically a hobby of the Lady's to hold the bankers at bay-- and yet they employ a cook and a maid.  Then there's Mademoiselle and Casabianca, boarding school for both children, and a vacation in France-- to say nothing of the London flat!  Clearly the Lady and her family are fairly well off (certainly not starving)-- but she's consistently stressed about money!  I know it's meant to be funny-- and the Lady likely considers Cook an absolute necessity--  but the family's strange relationship with money is the one aspect of the books that is hardest for a modern, middle-class reader to completely grasp (much less sympathize with).

"Thursday Evenings"

"Thursday Evenings"
by E.F. Benson


Synopsis:
In this amusing ghost story, a persistent spirit keeps the Victorian Golden Age alive from beyond the grave.


My Reaction:
I found this little ghost story a pleasant read.  The touches of humor were a reminder that this is the same author who penned the Lucia series. 

I looked up "The Lost Chord" on YouTube out of curiosity.  I guess it's okay, but I don't hear anything in it that would inspire someone to make it her "calling card" song.  (I prefer a stronger, more repetitive melody.  This hymn kind of wanders all over the place.)


Sidenote:
This is the first thing I read from start to finish on my new Kindle Paperwhite!  (I'm also reading The Provincial Lady Goes Further on it, but I'd already read over 70% of that one before switching devices.) 

"Through"

"Through"
by E.F. Benson


Synopsis:
A professional medium who frequently supplements his genuine psychic abilities with trickery has an eye-opening experience.


My Reaction:
Eh, it was ok.  Predictable, but ok.  Beyond that, I haven't much to say. 

Well, here's one thing:
When you have a story that's so predictable and completely lacking in creepiness, there's not much to recommend it.  I mean, it's a story.  There's not even an illusion of "this really happened, and the implications are startling!"  That can be ok, if the story is presented with the right atmosphere and shiver-inducing details or presentation.  Without either verisimilitude or spookiness, it's pretty bland.

Here's another thing:
The medium at one point says, "There is a D; I see a D.  Not Dick, not David.  There is a Y.  It is Denys."  I am very strongly reminded of John Edward.  Only he probably wouldn't have suggested the Y or anything so specific as "Denys".  (Is my skepticism coming through?)


Sidenote:
Incidentally, just the other day I came across a reference to E.F. Benson in one of E.M. Delafield's Provincial Lady books.  She didn't say much about him-- just that the Provincial Lady and someone else discussed his writing, among a couple of other topics-- but I always enjoy it when I know something about the author or book referenced.  It was a reminder, too, that the two were contemporaries.  "Their time" (the late 1800s up until WWII)-- particularly in England, Canada, and the U.S.-- has become my favorite setting for literature, lately. 

Unmade

Unmade
by Sarah Rees Brennan


Blurb:

Powerful love comes with a price. Who will be the sacrifice?

Kami has lost the boy she loves, is tied to a boy she does not, and faces an enemy more powerful than ever before. With Jared missing for months and presumed dead, Kami must rely on her new magical link with Ash for the strength to face the evil spreading through her town.

Rob Lynburn is now the master of Sorry-in-the-Vale, and he demands a death. Kami will use every tool at her disposal to stop him. Together with Rusty, Angela, and Holly, she uncovers a secret that might be the key to saving the town. But with knowledge comes responsibility—and a painful choice. A choice that will risk not only Kami’s life, but also the lives of those she loves most.

This final book in the Lynburn Legacy is a wild, entertaining ride from beginning to shocking end.

My Reaction:
This series wasn't really for me, I guess.  I liked the first book the best of the three.  The second was disappointing, but I decided to stick with it through the third installation for the sake of the  conclusion.  Sometimes I had to talk myself into continuing with this third book.  I'm glad it's the last in the series, because if there had been a fourth, maybe I would've just made up my own conclusion and saved some time.

My usual damning-with-faint-praise reaction applies here: This wasn't an absolutely awful book, but I don't feel persuaded to sing praises.  The "teen romance" element was ok, but it's repetitive, with plenty of forced drama/misunderstanding/angst.  (Have you read any romance novels ever?  Then you know the sort of thing.)  Then there's this whole big Magic Plot that, honestly, I could hardly have cared less about, by the end.  I was interested to see if the "shocking end" would turn out better than expected.  ...It didn't. 

When the best thing the book has going for it is the romance-- and the romance is torturously drawn out, interspersed with so much "other stuff" that falls flat-- it's not the most satisfying or engaging read ever, that's all. 


Specific Tidbits (with SPOILERS):
--  I'd forgotten much of the Magic Plot from the first two books, but the beginning does a pretty good job of filling you in.  I still would never recommend reading this one if you hadn't already read the first two.

--  I still don't find the characters' jokes funny.  They're always laughing and grinning at one another, apparently enchanted by their own witty banter, but I can't quite feel like joining in. 

--  Kami wears a skirt with frills when she goes on her "rescue Jared" mission.  Yes, I know that Kami loves skirts and dresses and feminine clothes, and that's fine, but who wears a frilly skirt on a rescue mission?!

--  "She felt the shape of his mouth against her hair and was amazed by how crazy he was: he was smiling."  ...How can she feel a smile on her head, through her hair?  That seems unlikely.  Hear a smile in his voice, sure, but feel a smile against your scalp?  I'm doubtful.

--  The one thing I find most appealing about this whole series is the concept of Kami and Jared's psychic bond.  It's one of those things that could never work out well in real life, but in fiction, it's so cozy!  "He had been closer to her than if they slept cheek to cheek on the same pillow every night, closer than her own thoughts, for their whole lives."  In a fantasy/romance novel, that's pretty swoon-worthy stuff.  In real life?  Um, no.  I'll keep (some of) the contents of my mind private, please.

--  At some point, it becomes completely unbelievable to me that Jared wouldn't understand how Kami feels about him (and vice versa).  That point, for me, came fairly early in this book.

--  The "blood brothers" spell scene?  Yuck.

--  Kami's weird obsession with grabbing handfuls of Jared's shirt(s) continues into this book.  (Seriously.  Just about any time they kiss, she's grabbing up a handful of the dude's shirt.  She's going to stretch them out!!)

--  I'll confess:  I did some eye-rolling during the scene in which Kami's dad shoots Rob.  Kami's excessive shock that Daddy Dearest has actually fired a gun!  Jon's inability to aim the first shot at Rob's head instead of his leg, which would've solved so many problems!  Oh, and when Jon laments the fact that he messed up, Kami replies that he didn't mess up.  "'Not being ready to kill someone isn't screwing up.'" ...Well.  When the someone in question is an evil sorcerer who has already killed people and is demanding human sacrifices and kind of terrorizing your whole family... :o/ It's fine to comfort your father in those circumstances, since blaming him will only make him feel worse, but how is killing Rob with magic (which-- spoiler alert!-- Kami does herself at the end of the book) any different from killing him with a bullet to the head?  (Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but I get the distinct impression that the author would not have been okay with Kami killing Rob with a gun.  Guns are bad, you know.  Killing with magic is... Well, it's different, okay?!)

--  Jon (Kami's dad) to Kami: "I didn't achieve you.  You are the greatest achievement of your own life."  Okay...  True, parents can't take full credit for how a high-school-age child has turned out-- and I'm all for teens understanding that who they are is not entirely dependent on their parents (particularly in cases where maybe the parents aren't setting the greatest examples)-- but this rubbed me the wrong way.  Maybe because it undervalues the contribution that good parents have made in getting their kids to the point that they are good, decent young adults.

--  After Kami's mom gives the evil/bad/"wrong side of history" (to use a phrase that I really, really hate) sorcerers food poisoning, they all sneak out of Aurimere and sort of meander home.  Like, to their own home.  Which is weird.  Where's the sense of urgency with these people?  It's a perfect example of one of my pet peeves with this series.  It's a very strange story where people are supposedly in grave danger, but nothing feels remotely important (most of the time) in comparison with the teen romances.  "Whelp, we've just escaped from the not-very-friendly sorcerers led by that one guy who kinda wants to kill us.  But they've got a case of food poisoning, so we can totally for sure go home (where everyone knows we live) and sleep safe and sound in our own beds.  I'm pretty sure they'll be sick for the rest of the night.  We should be fine until tomorrow.  Lights out! Nighty-night, John-boy!"  (Later that night, their house is set ablaze with Magic Fire™.  The family narrowly escape with their lives.)

--  "The first thing to do was slip away from her father, who might have questions about why she kept insisting on going back to the lair of ultimate evil.  Kami saw why so many teenagers who had adventures in books were interestingly tragic orphans.  Parents were a real buzzkill, adventure-wise."  Heh.  Yeah, but that didn't seem to be as much of an issue in the first two books.

--  I think I might have forgotten something from the first or second book, but is there something keeping Kami and her friends and family from just leaving this cursed town?  Once her mother's turned into a statue, sure, it may be too late, but it seems kind of silly to stay in a town where your life and the lives of your young siblings are at risk.  Why?  Because Kami wants to be a Heroine and save the whole town?  Why can't they all leave, in that case?

--  Rusty's death seems so utterly pointless.  Manipulative.  Also, did Rusty not realize that giving Rob a willing sacrifice would make him more powerful?  I know he thought he was buying time/protecting the others until the equinox ritual with the twin pools, but why couldn't they have just left town for a few days, instead?

--  The stunning revelation that Rob planned to destroy the whole town wasn't quite so shocking as it was meant to be, I think.

--  "Kami read the article aloud to her family and friends as they stood all together in Room 31B, Kami's newspaper office."  ...How embarrassing.  Captive audience, huh?

--  When Holly and Angela have their first kiss, there's this description of how their respective lipsticks/lip glosses "interact"/taste/whatever.  And I think it's supposed to be edgy or something, because, ooh, "girl kiss" and they're both wearing lipstick/gloss which is so interesting because guys don't wear make-up, and it's all so new and exciting-- but... Why are they even wearing lipstick/gloss on a day like this?  They're preparing to battle for their lives and the survival of their entire town.  I certainly wouldn't be bothering to put on lipstick.  Maybe I'm not girly enough to understand these things.  I often put on a modest/safe/non-clashy shade of lipstick if I'm going out in public, but that's on a normal day.  I feel pretty confident that if I'm ever getting dressed for battle with sorcerers, make-up won't be a priority.  (But that's just me.)

--  Angered by Lillian (if I recall correctly), Rob announces, "If you're not with me, you're against me."  ...Is that supposed to be a super-subtle political jibe?  Or is it more in reference to the Bible?  Or what?

--  Poor Ash seems badly treated all through these books (though at least he gets to live to see the end of the trilogy).  In this book, he loses his father.  Now, admittedly, his father's not a good person, and he's known that for a while, by the end, but that's still not an easy thing to come to terms with.  He learns that his father wanted to murder and lay ruin to a town full of people.  Then Kami disintegrates the man.  And now, a few months later, Ash is perfectly fine with everything, I guess.  It's too easy.  (Like a lot of things in these books.)

--  I feel a bit patronized at times, reading this trilogy.  Maybe that was just me.

--  The very end?  Predictable, but right.  Though I still feel like Kami and Jared are a bit too dense to be believed-- at least as far as each other are concerned.  They should've figured that whole thing out long before the end.  Of course, since this is a romance, the romantic leads have to be bull-headed, star-crossed, blinded, confused, or whatever else it takes to keep them apart until the final page.  It's understood.