Reading Log: September

This month I've finally reached my first deliberate DNF of the year. Not quite the milestone I was expecting or hoping for, but unsurprising really, given the sheer number of books I've started. As usual, I have at least two actively on the go at any time, and several more which I've started, and put down temporarily, but just occasionally there's one which is so difficult to get through and unenjoyable in the reading that I have to give up. More on that below... I've also read a book which the rest of my family enjoyed several decades ago, as well as a book on the history of printing, so a nice bit of variety there, and a few more ticks on the 52 Book Challenge list.

A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters

My parents and sister read the series of medieval whodunnits featuring Brother Cadfael around 35 years ago, but out of some sort of stubbornness I refused. However, I needed to read something in a hybrid genre for the 52 book challenge, and thought that I should perhaps give the first one a go.

Brother Cadfael is a member of a twelfth-century Benedictine community in Shrewsbury, and is one of a small group of monks sent to Wales to retrieve the bones of a saint from

her remote home village, and bring them back to be the focus of devotion and pilgrimage at the monastery. Inevitably, not all the villagers are happy about the idea of their saint being taken away, and when murder is discovered, Cadfael turns sleuth.

I've definitely enjoyed this; it's not too historical for me with my lack of knowledge of anything old, and my total ignorance means I wasn't distracted by spotting anachronisms or other perceived errors. Cadfael himself is a good central character - worldly enough to understand and sympathise with the village people; faithful enough to play an important role within his community.

Not quite cosy crime, but nicely written, not too predictable, and all round enjoyable.

[26. Hybrid genre]

The Gourmet Detective by Peter King [audiobook]

I'd thought this might have a similar plot to the Kamogawa Food Detectives, but was sadly mistaken. I've struggled with this one, and the only reason I'm even contemplating trying to finish it is because otherwise it's a perfectly good Audible credit wasted. The eponymous hero, whose actual name we never discover, starts out as a detective who specialises in finding obscure ingredients and sourcing suppliers for his clients. After being asked to recreate a top restaurant's signature dish, he becomes aware of apparent attempts to damage the restaurant's reputation and service. As he starts looking into this, a TV chef dies, and he decides to investigate the murder.

The plot is no more implausible than many that I've enjoyed - but the central character is such a misogynistic pompous bore that this is just a struggle to get through. Every woman he comes across is appraised for her potential attractiveness; wine and food pairings are described in tedious detail (and I say this as someone who usually loves reading about food!); and our 'hero' is somehow blissfully aware of his utter bumbling incompetence (he only remembers the rule about never moving a dead body that you've found, but calling the police first after moving what he thinks is a dead body...).

I'm astonished to discover the author was apparently a trained cordon-bleu chef - one more irritation was the idea that chefs in a top-level kitchen wouldn't notice that ginger had been substitued for cinnamon, or tarragon for basil before the dish is served to the customer. Beyond baffling to me! Even as just a home cook, I know the difference between ginger and cinnamon by sight, let alone smell and taste, and likewise basil and tarragon. In the scheme of this book's flaws, this is a minor one - but it just felt like the final straw to me.

In short, the combination of the title character's self-importance, casual and consistent sexism, and poor writing is just too much for me to cope with. This is a big NOPE.

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

Lara and Joe's three adult daughters are back on the parental fruit farm for the summer while the pandemic is keeping the usual workers away. While picking cherries, Lara starts to tell her girls the story of the life she turned away from - her chance to be a successful actress, and her relationship with the now-famous Peter Duke. There are a few twists along this trip down memory lane which recounts Lara's journey from her accidental step into an acting career, to the life she now lives on the cherry farm.

This was a good read - some of the twists certainly took me by surprise, but that only added to the enjoyment. I don't think I'd have appreciated it as much in my twenties and thirties, but certainly now I empathised with Lara looking back on the opportunities she took and the choices she made. Very satisfying.

The Princess Bride by William Goldberg

I was in two minds about reading this, as the film is Just So Good, but decided to give it a try anyway, and i'm so pleased I did! The film's story-within-a-story is true to the book, although presented somewhat differently, and seems to me to be astonishingly faithful to the original.

I don't think there's much more to say about this - just wonderful!

[20. A revenge story]

The Book-makers by Adam Smyth

Adam Smyth presents a history of the book and book-making in England, seen primarily through the lives of 18 important figuures. Starting with Winken de Worde in the sixteenth century, we learn about the development of moveable type, colonial newspapers, paper making, and much much more.

We're so used to books as we know them that it's quite hard to think of them as new innovations. Prof Smyth shines a light on just how new the idea of printed books was, and how they initially existed alongside manuscripts, rather than as replacements for manuscripts. Through examining surviving books and book fragments from the early days of pring and book-binding, all sorts of fascinating details emerge, not only about the books themselves, but also about other works being printed or bound at the same time, and the people doing this work.

Strongly recommended for anyone interested in learning more about how books became books, and the development of print and literature.

Before we say Goodbye by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

The fourth book in the series set in Cafe Funiculi Funicula. The seat usually occupied by the ghostly woman in the white dress is not just any seat, but has a magical power: the person sitting there can go back to a time in their past, but only for the time that their cup of coffee is still warm. In this installment, the four characters who wish to return to the past are linked by their need to say a proper farewell, or ease a parting. As with the previous books, each person's story stands alone - and like the Kamogawa Food Detectives, although each story follows a similar structure and pattern, this works positively rather than being repetitive and dull. The brevity means that the characters are not fully fleshed out and developed in some ways, but the sparseness somehow adds to the atmosphere, and makes the emotions expressed stand out more starkly.