Stranger at Wildings

Stranger at Wildings
by Madeleine Brent


Blurb:

Here is a tale of charm and adventure-- set in Europe around the turn of the century--whose colorful action ranges from a touring circus in Hungary to the fox-hunting society of the English countryside to the elegant circles of wealth and fashion in London. It is the story of a spirited young woman of eighteen who has left an unhappy, uncertain past in England and made a new life for herself as a trapeze artist in a small touring circus... 

But that forgotten past will stumble upon her one day, beside a stream in Hungary, where the circus has pitched its tents for a time. It will come in the form of a mysterious young man-- handsome, appealing, yet curiously remote-- whose appearance is the beginning of a strange, dangerous intrigue that involves deception, romance, disappearance and, in the end, the revelations of a family's darkest secrets.

My Reaction:
This is the third "Madeleine Brent" novel I've read, to date.  The first, Moonraker's Bride, I loved; the second, Merlin's Keep, was slightly less of a favorite, but I'd still give it 4.5 stars.  Stranger at Wildings is another star down the ladder, for me.

I enjoyed parts of the book and the overall tone-- it's one of those books where you know everything will turn out okay and nothing too bad will happen to the main characters-- but there were also times when I couldn't suppress an eye-roll or even an inward groan.  I don't remember feeling that way about Moonraker's Bride.

Perhaps part of my problem with the book was that circuses and medical ambitions aren't exactly tailored to my personal literary sweet spots, though I did enjoy aspects of the circus element better than I would've expected.  Also, while I knew to expect amazing coincidences, some of these were a bit much!

So, not a favorite, but a decent read.  I'd recommend it to fans of the genre, but not as an introduction to the author.

No Fond Return of Love

No Fond Return of Love
by Barbara Pym


Blurb:

Dulcie Mainwaring, the heroine of the book, is one of those excellent women who is always helping others and never looking out for herself-- especially in the realms of love. The novel has a delicate tangle of schemes and unfulfilled dreams, hidden secrets and a castle or two. Told wonderfully in the deadpan honesty that has become a Pym hallmark, this book is a delight.

My Reaction:
Donald and I chose this almost at random as our latest "shared read-aloud" book. We were in need of something for our next read and selected this from what I already had loaded on my Kindle. Choice was limited (lots of horror on there, at the moment), and this was the closest to our usual fare of light humor. I'd been meaning to try some Pym, but had never really planned on it being shared reading material. However, it served that purpose better than I would've predicted, and I think we both enjoyed it!

I found my first Pym to be much as advertised-- a relatively quiet, unassuming story (a not particularly romantic romance) about a year or so in the lives of a smallish cast of characters, most of whom are members of the English middle class.

Essentially, it's a modern/mid-century comedy of manners. The sense of humor is mild and restrained ("dry" is probably the standard descriptor), but it is unquestionably there and springs up at some unexpected moments.

Embedded in a rather simple tale of ordinary people are moments of keen insight and honesty, just slipped in here and there, casually-- the type of observations where you instantly recognize yourself and your own life (for better or worse!). Those tiny blips of brilliance give this novel a surprising depth and complexity that elevate it to the level of "literature".

I believe I first came across Pym as a recommendation for fans of E.F. Benson's Lucia series. I would agree with the suggestion, but with the caveat that (based on the little Pym I've read) Benson's Lucia novels have a slightly acrid, often biting sense of humor and more outsized character personalities than Pym's, where the humor is softer, muted-- more representative, maybe, of real life. Benson makes me laugh harder, but Pym is more profound (and a little bittersweet).

I'll certainly be reading more from this author!

Slade House

Slade House
by David Mitchell


Blurb:

Down the road from a working-class British pub, along the brick wall of a narrow alley, if the conditions are exactly right, you’ll find the entrance to Slade House. A stranger will greet you by name and invite you inside. At first, you won’t want to leave. Later, you’ll find that you can’t. Every nine years, the house’s residents—an odd brother and sister—extend a unique invitation to someone who’s different or lonely: a precocious teenager, a recently divorced policeman, a shy college student. But what really goes on inside Slade House? For those who find out, it’s already too late... 

Spanning five decades, from the last days of the 1970s to the present, leaping genres, and barreling toward an astonishing conclusion, this intricately woven novel will pull you into a reality-warping new vision of the haunted house story—as only David Mitchell could imagine it.

My Reaction:
I'm not sure why, but somehow I had the impression that this short novel included some seriously gruesome horror. I was almost a little worried that it might be too much for me. (I like atmospheric and psychological horror, but my tolerance for body horror is low.) That worry was needless, as Slade House is less horror than it is paranormal science fiction.

The novel starts off promisingly. The shifting points of view add a layer of interest, and characters are quite distinctive and well-drawn, considering how briefly we meet each one. I was intrigued and enjoyed following the trail of breadcrumbs and putting the pieces together.

However, at some point, my interest began to wane. For one thing, it became a bit too repetitive. (By the very nature of the story, there has to be some repetition, I suppose, but it could've been handled more skillfully.) It stopped being spooky, then the ending had a definite flavor of deus ex machina. It was a little too "been there, done that" in the last paragraph or two, as well.

To be honest, I also have a bad taste in my mouth from two or three things that felt out of place in the context of the novel. I've forgotten the one(s) from earlier in the book, but the last one came just a few pages from the end-- a reference to "neocons" in a list of "vultures" that also includes "feudal lords", "slave traders", "oligarchs" and "predators". I just... Why? (I'm curious how the author would even define "neocon", since it seems to be a chameleon term that means something different to each person who uses it.)

Meh, whatever.

I enjoyed much of the first half (or more), but sadly, it eventually fizzled. It's a quick read, though, so it doesn't take much of an investment of time and energy to give it a try.

Armada

Armada 
by Ernest Cline


Blurb:

Zack Lightman has spent his life dreaming. Dreaming that the real world could be a little more like the countless science-fiction books, movies, and videogames he’s spent his life consuming. Dreaming that one day, some fantastic, world-altering event will shatter the monotony of his humdrum existence and whisk him off on some grand space-faring adventure.

My Reaction:
(This was a shared read-aloud with Donald.)

This really isn't good (in my ever-so-humble opinion).

The only reason I was willing to read Armada at all (at Donald's suggestion) was so we could continue with the "podcast book club" we listened to as we read our way through Ready Player One. It was one of those weird situations where you start a book knowing you probably won't like it, simply for the perverse "pleasure" of marveling over just how bad and ridiculous it is.

I could go into the details of what makes it bad, but there are plenty of reviews that have already done so (and I didn't take notes). A short, generalized list? It copies too freely from other movies/books that did the story better. The characters aren't believable. It's largely predictable. The action scenes put me to sleep. Implausible, ludicrous things happen and are said and done for no apparent reason. Bottom line? It's not very good.

However, I will say that I don't think this novel is particularly worse than Ready Player One, so I don't understand why RPO (currently, at least) has such a higher rating than Armada. Neither book seems especially original to me, neither has much literary value-- and at least Armada didn't subject me to detailed descriptions of characters playing crappy old video games.  (Apologies if you love those old video games. To a non-gamer like myself, they are so incredibly boring to read about. Gameplay descriptions don't belong in a novel, no matter how much the author enjoys actually playing the game.) If you're going to like one, why not the other? Apparently people were willing to overlook the same shortcomings in RPO, for some reason.

If you're of a certain temperament and sense of humor, you might enjoy reading Armada specifically to goggle and guffaw.  Consider the 372 Pages We'll Never Get Back podcast for a guided tour of the absurdities; it may help motivate you to read through the rough patches. There are some true gems in there, but you will struggle through the action sequences. (Honestly, you can probably just skip 99% of those and not miss a thing.)

While skimming a few Armada reviews before writing my own, I saw someone mention that a sequel to RPO is in the works. If that ever comes to fruition-- and if the "372 Pages" podcast tackles it-- I suppose we might end up reading that one too... (Not sure if I should hope for or against it, at this point.)

On a related note, we've yet to see the Ready Player One film adaptation. We're waiting for the Rifftrax treatment to be released, to make it more palatable.

The Little Stranger

The Little Stranger
by Sarah Waters


(Edited) Blurb:

One postwar summer in rural Warwickshire, Dr. Faraday, who has built a life of quiet respectability as a country physician, is called to a patient at lonely Hundreds Hall. Home to the Ayres family for over two centuries, the Georgian house, once impressive and handsome, is now in decline, its masonry crumbling, its gardens choked with weeds, the clock in its stable yard permanently fixed at twenty to nine. Its owners—mother, son, and daughter—are struggling to keep pace with a changing society, as well as with conflicts of their own. But are the Ayreses haunted by something more sinister than a dying way of life? Little does Dr. Faraday know how closely, and how terrifyingly, their story is about to become intimately entwined with his.

My Reaction (with some mild SPOILERS toward the end):
This is my first experience with this author, so I had no preconceptions based on her other novels, a fact that may have actually been in the book's favor, if the bulk of the reviews I've skimmed are any indication.  I enjoyed it, on the whole-- and while that would normally inspire me to add the author's other novels to my mental "books to read" list, reviews by Waters fans disappointed by The Little Stranger have made me hesitant. (That may sound counterintuitive, but the reasons fans mentioned for not liking this book as much as her others gave me the impression that this one is actually better suited to my own tastes, compared to her other works.)


Positives:  
While the pacing was slow at times, it held my interest through 500+ pages.
The setting is perfect for those of us who love a good gothic thriller.
The novel is populated with distinct, interesting characters.
There are some chill-bump-inducing moments.

Negatives:
It really could have been tightened up a little.
The "romance" was frustrating and disappointing (on all levels)-- intentionally so?
If you're reading for the horror, there's probably less than you'd like.
There's a lack of momentum and crescendo as scary moments are frequently weakened and undermined by the juxtaposition of too many non-scary ones.


Overall, while I enjoyed reading it and found it well-written, this is a darker, sadder tale than the first section of the novel led me to expect.  I'd even go so far as to say that it's depressing.  I don't usually think of myself as an incurable optimist, but I persisted in believing we were headed to a relatively happy ending and was rather dismayed as tragic events followed one after another.  No, there is no happy ending for these characters.  That sense of depression is probably more enduring and memorable than the fleeting moments of supernatural terror.

Speaking of endings, The Little Stranger is fairly open to interpretation (madness, a variety of possible supernatural culprits, unreliable narrator, etc.).  I think I know what the author intends us to believe (the reflection in the window is the closest thing we get to an outright answer, I'd say), but she leaves room for us to draw our own conclusions.

I can tell I'll be thinking about this one for a while, even now that I've finished it.  I wouldn't want to read it again, but I "enjoyed" it this time, even with its numbing series of disappointments and descending cloud of depression.  I'm looking forward to seeing the film adaption, at some point.  I hadn't realized there was a film adaptation until after I'd started reading, but it was a welcome surprise.