The Last Dickens

I’ve talked before about how I'm not that much of a mystery reader, but when I do pick one up, I seem to have the most luck with historical mysteries. Not only do I find all of the period-specific details fascinating and love when real-life historical figures pop up in the story, but the crimes and murders that occur seem, well, just a little bit less creepy when they’re set years in the past, rather than in present day. The Last Dickens by Matthew Pearl, is exactly that kind of historical mystery, revolving around the fictional hunt for the second half of the manuscript of Charles Dickens’s final, unfinished novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

The novel follows several different layers of mystery. The primary storyline focuses on James Osgood, Dickens’s publisher in America. Osgood learns of Dickens’s abrupt death from a stroke while his firm is in the middle of publishing Drood in serial form. After his errand boy is murdered and robbed of the latest installment of the manuscript that he’s transporting, Osgood journeys to London to try to track down the missing manuscript and the murderer. Osgood’s mission is broken up with flashbacks describing mysterious occurrences that happened during Dickens’s American tour years earlier, jumps across continents to India, where Dickens’s son is an investigator tracking down an opium thief, and even explores a fourth line storyline about the mysterious life and death of Edward Trood, the trouble-making son of one of Dickens’s neighbors who provided the inspiration for his last novel.

I had previously read and enjoyed one of Pearl’s other novels, The Poe Shadow (as in Edgar Allen). Although I was equally interested in all of the Dickens-related details he covers here, I thought the plot was overly bogged down with all of the separate storylines. Although all of the threads are woven together at the end, it feels somewhat laborious, as if the author had to work just a bit too hard to make it all come together. Narrowing the focus may have made the story flow more easily, and subsequently made me feel more compelled by the novel as a whole. Die-hard mystery fans, or die-hard Dickens fans for that matter, may enjoy this anyway, but I’d recommend the casual mystery reader skip it in favor of The Poe Shadow, or even something like The Alienist.

Friday Firsts- Blog Love

I'm trying something a little different today. On the first Friday of every month, instead of doing my usual Friday Fancies roundup, I thought I'd dedicate to a particular "first", sometimes book related, sometimes not. So my question for today is:

What was the first blog you discovered that got you interested in blogging?

(image via here)

I'm assuming that the way I first got into the blog world is fairly common with other bloggers or blog readers: you start reading one blog that you love, then that leads you to another one, then another after that. For me, that first blog was Inside a Black Apple. I discovered it as a result of seeing Emily Martin's Etsy shop. Something about her art just struck a chord with me and I became instantly interested in her blog, scrolling through page after page to read all of her past posts. Later, once I had completely exhausted her blog archives, I branched out to others. The group of blogs that I consider to be my favorites ebbs and flows over time, but I always have a fond place in my Google Reader for Inside a Black Apple.

So tell me, what was the first blog that caught your fancy? I'd love to hear about it (and maybe discover a new blog or two for myself)!

Wildwood

Just to make sure we're clear,  Wildwood, the novel by Colin Meloy, illustrated by his wife Carson Ellis, is not set in the popular Jersey Shore town, but rather in the mythical Impassable Wilderness near Portland, OR. That's where Prue, the seventh grade heroine of this epic children's tale, ventures on a rescue mission after her baby brother is snatched away from the playground by crows that fly him into the woods. Once in Wildwood, Prue, along with Curtis, her endearingly dorky hanger-on of a sidekick, encounter bandits, mystics, owl princes, coyote soldiers, and all manner of talking animals. It's a novel that's one part fairy tale and one part action-adventure story, with a tiny dash of Beatrix Potter's sensibilities thrown into the mix. Meloy's writing style is pretty much what you would expect if you are familiar with his lyrics with The Decemberists--sweeping in scope with lots of quirky, intricate details. It's quite sophisticated and seems like it would "talk up", rather than talk down, to the younger audience it's meant for. 

Although there's a lot to appreciate about this book, somehow it didn't capture me as much as I had hoped it would based on the many rave reviews I'd seen. Its 500+ pages felt slow going at times--not a slog by any means, but still slower than expected for this kind of book. I've been trying to pinpoint what didn't work for me and I think it may have been that there was actually too much action in the story. Sounds counter intuitive, I know. The best way I can try to explain it is to make a Harry Potter comparison. All of the books in the Potter series are filled with scenes of action and danger, but they're also augmented with scenes that are more peaceful, even if darker suspense is still lurking in the background. J.K. Rowling takes time to explore the dorms at Hogwarts, describe what goes on in the library and at mealtimes, and follow the characters in a Quidditch game. She gives the reader time to enjoy the everyday life that's the backdrop for the adventure in each book. The world of Wildwood is just as intricately created, but I found it harder to absorb and appreciate all of the details when the characters were always in dire straits, moving from one adventure right into the next. I would have loved to see a bit more of the book devoted to the characters experiencing the magic elements of Wildwood in a more relaxed way.

All of that being said, I don't want to downplay how well imagined this novel really is. I know many other readers have loved it, so just because I didn't get love it doesn't mean that someone else might not find them themselves captivated. And if all else fails, the beautiful, lush illustrations are so interesting to look at that it's satisfying enough to just page through and appreciate it as an object of art.

Second Chances

 I don't remember the exact circumstances of my first experience with rhubarb, other than that it vaguely involved a pie. What I vividly remember was the bitter, celery-like crunch of the rhubarb. Suffice it to say, that remained my only experience with rhubarb for many years.

Fast forward to this past weekend, with me flipping through Sophie Dahl's gorgeous second cookbook Very Fond of Food. There isn't much that Sophie's writing doesn't make sound appealing and rhubarb was no exception. In spite of my past dislike, when I saw her recipe for rhubarb rice pudding, I knew I had to try it.

And guess what? I loved it! The rhubarb boiled down until it was tender, adding the perfect tartness and hint of pink to the creamy pudding, which was incredibly simple to make (and not too unhealthy, either). The full recipe can be found here (scroll down towards the bottom). In the book it's grouped with Spring breakfasts, and it would obviously be a lovely dessert, but I've been enjoying it as a little after work bowl of comfort.

The Winter Sea

The structure of parallel storylines between a modern scholar/ writer and the historical subject he or she is researching/ writing about is by no means a new fictional technique. It’s been done in countless books to varying degrees of success, with the high water mark being A.S. Byatt’s Possession. Susanna Kearsley’s The Winter Sea isn’t quite on that level, although it is quite good. After reading a couple of glowing reviews, it was a a blurby comparison to Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca that ultimately sealed the deal and secured this book a spot on my reading list.

The modern half of the story follows Carrie McClelland, an author of historical fiction novels who is staying in Scotland to research and write her latest work, a tale of an attempted eighteenth century Jacobite invasion of Scotland to restore the exiled King James to the throne. In an attempt to overcome a case of writer's block, Carrie decides to center her story around Sophia Paterson, a fictional heroine named after one of Carrie's own ancestors. It's Sophia's story, in the form of scenes from Carrie's novel, that makes up the historical half of the storyline. The more Carrie writes about Sophia, the more she finds that her writing is flowing with an ease she’s never before experienced. She feels as if she is remembering the story, rather than creating it. When details she writes one night end up being corroborated with research unknown to her until the next day, she begins to wonder if she’s channeling an ancestral memory, passed down inherently through generations. That part of the plot could easily veer into cheesy territory, but Kearsley manages to strike just the right tone to pull it off without letting it overpower the book or detract from the rich historical details.

The overall reading experience lived up to the hype I had heard about this book, although I thought it fell a bit short of the Rebecca comparison. There just wasn’t enough sense of foreboding in the modern half of the story to warrant that, although the blustery North Scotland setting provides more than enough moody atmosphere. I wouldn't say this is a beach read, but it's definitely an entertaining, escapist read, perfect for a chilly grey day when you're holed up inside with a cup of tea and a cozy blanket.