Janet Shore is the book fairy, a librarian gifted with the supernatural ability to send another person into literature in a literal fashion. She sends them in to enjoy a specific episode, guesses at the time it will take for the event to unfold, and then brings them back. This 75 page long story is interesting, but was mislabeled as a mystery, which is the author’s principal genre; it’s really more a fantasy story. I was waiting for the mystery until toward the end, when I realized there really wasn’t one, apart perhaps from final moment, and even then, it isn’t a mystery to us. And where are my manners? Thank you to Net Galley and Open Road Integrated Media for allowing me a glimpse in advance. This story goes up for sale digitally June 16.
All is going well as long as Janet’s supernatural power is kept under wraps. Just she and a friend know. Then another person finds out and persuades Janet to come out of her book-fairy closet and advertise her services. She could “make a mint”. Janet is aghast at the vulgar implication, but the acquaintance persists. She needn’t keep the funds for her own use, she tells Janet; think of the causes she could help! So many deserving charities could benefit, all while making so many people’s—let’s face it, women’s—fantasies into the vacation of a lifetime.
But it’s too much. Tiny Whidbey Island (located off the shore of Washington State) can’t sustain this level of traffic. The locals are at first pleased at the amount of custom, then dismayed at the disruption. No one can buy anything without standing in a very long line. Their favorite quiet spots are now very noisy, busy spots.
On top of all of that, Janet is about to give out. She is exhausted, and still they clamor for more.
The voice with which this story is told is so different from the Thomas Lynley series (which I adore) that at first, I thought I had inadvertently picked up something by one of the other authors of the same name. But then, it’s set on Whidbey, where the Thomas-Lynley-George lives, and she even slips in a sly reference to Havers when discussing excellent literature. So yes, it is she.
Other reviewers thus far have been more enthusiastic about this piece if they are unfamiliar with, or don’t like, the Lynley series. For me, it took a long time to really engage. There are no chapters at all; it is just one long story, a little long for a short story, but maybe too short for a novella. I would have liked it organized, and I might also have enjoyed it more had it been told in something other than the third person. There’s too much narrative, too little dialogue.
In the end, though, I found it charming. It just took me awhile to climb on board. I was looking for a mysterious disappearance, and in this case, the surprise element, which I eventually saw coming, was a little disappointing. There’s no mystery to unravel, no detective in the mix.
In short, for those who enjoy fantasy stories, this is a winner, and it should be billed as fantasy, not mystery.
Tag Archives: fantasy
The Stand, by Stephen King *****
October spooky stories continue! I am nearing the end of some interesting galleys, but until I have new material to review, I am posting some old and creepy favorites. And who better than Stephen King? If this book were published today, it might get categorized as post-apocalyptic fiction rather than horror (or fantasy; it was nominated for the World Fantasy Award in 1979). By now, it’s legendary. If you haven’t gone there yet, what are you waiting for? It will surely keep you off the streets and out of trouble for quite some time. Here’s my take on it.
In the two part introduction, King tells the reader not to buy the book unless they either have never read it, or wish to reread it with the bits he really thought made the story stronger, but that in his less prominent days had been edited out for marketing reasons. And I thought oh hell yes. I love King’s work, and I trust his judgment.
What I didn’t think about was the copyright date and the fact that I am no longer young. Three quarters of the way through, I went back to the prefaces again to see if I could ascertain what was new here. And it was then that I realized that I had already read this version–only the cover was really new, it’s been out for quite some time–and by then I was so far along, remembered so little of the original plot anyway, that I decided to go ahead and finish it. It’s entirely worth reading twice.
He refers to it (again in part 2 of the intro)as a “tale of dark Christianity”. And that it is. It’s really well done. If you are a Christian and take the bible quite literally, you may not appreciate the liberties he has taken. From a literary point of view though, this is a beautifully integrated plot. His memoir says that he pretty much just pounds his novels out, start to finish, and given the complexity and number of characters, I can’t believe he didn’t start this one with a flow chart. It boggles the mind.
So without ruining the ending, let me ask you: if hell were going to be in the continental USA, which major city would you choose? Among the major US cities you have visited, which one screams to you of wrongness most clearly?
I think King chose well. When the devil takes a major hit because his prisoner refuses to be impressed and laughs at him, it rings absolutely true.
I have changed my mind many times about which Stephen King novel I love best. This one is definitely a contender.
(A caveat: read it first before you give it to your precocious reader. Some Stephen King books work just fine for the clever 6th or 7th grade mind; personally, I’d save this one for high school, given my preferences for my own family).
The Yiddish Policeman’s Union, by Michael Chabon *****
They say all stories have been told in one way or another, but to reduce Chabon’s The Yiddish Policemen’s Union to a “whodunit” is a travesty.
When I saw that a fellow reviewer had laughed at the notion of Chabon smiling and patting himself on the back as he wrote, I thought she was being ungracious. This was until after I had completed the book, which another reviewer accurately described as “hyper literate”. Now I can see him doing just that.
Oh yes, this is good writing at its finest, with a plot that pulls together with breathtaking attention to detail (LOTS of detail), incredibly lush descriptions, and droll humor, all of which no doubt account for the myriad honors and awards heaped upon the writer. He earned them all, but in reading, one feels the envy that a wallflower feels in the presence of the homecoming queen, or the 98 pound weakling feels when a muscular Adonis struts his stuff at the beach.
If you want a nutshell version of a review, it’s “Who killed the Yid?” But if you want a nutshell of anything, this book will be too much for you. It is not a tome to be skimmed or looked over while you hold a conversation or watch television. It demands full and complete attention. At first, I didn’t understand this, and had to restart twice when I took the book into my hands right before falling asleep and didn’t remember any of what I had read the next morning. It is better to begin it with full, wide awake attention!
Others have done a fine job of covering the setting, both place and time. There are a lot of characters to shuffle; Chabon does so deftly, but it is the job of the reader to keep up with him. Landsman is the detective and protagonist, but there are so many more, and some people are not what they seem to be. The story is rife with surprises, and I won’t spoil it for you by giving them away.
One thing worth noting as you go into it, especially if, like me, you are reading on an e-reader: the end, though this is not a short book, may feel abrupt because there is a glossary of Yiddish terms at the end, along with a teaser for the next book. Therefore, although all signs pointed to the story’s being nearly wrapped up, I thought Chabon was about to toss one more spanner into the works to fill up about 75 more e-pages. I was startled when the book ended , saying, “Wait. That’s it?” This is unlikely to be a problem if you have the physical book in hand, though.
Over and over again I found myself highlighting passages that were, I thought, the most magnificent figurative language I had ever seen. Eventually I was foolishly highlighting whole pages, and you don’t want them all here. Just know that Chabon has created a strange and miraculous world that features an underworld rebbe (rabbi) and a host of goons as the obstacle, but ultimately the Moriarty to the Yiddish Holmes is a surprise, to say the least.
I conclude with just one bit of philosophical musing dropped in toward the end, which I find irresistible. It does not provide a spoiler, though, because the answer to the puzzle is not revealed here. It’s just a little sample of the marvelous word-smithery wrought by our champion of writers, as Landsman reflects that in the future, “any kind of wonder seems likely. That the Jews will pick up and set sail for the promised land to feast on giant grapes and toss their beards in the desert wind. That the Temple will be rebuilt, speedily and in our day, War will cease, ease and plenty and righteousness will be universal…and every suit will come with two pair of pants.”
Seattle Book Mama 