Lilith Saintcrow

I’ve had good luck on the book front recently:

* The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery. Oh. My God. I LOVED this book. It was beautifully written, wonderfully constructed, lovingly translated, and Barbery did not punk out on the ending. The concierge Madame Michel looks like any other 54-year-old concierge in an upper-class Paris apartment building. This is camouflage. She is in reality an autodidact, a connoisseur of art, literature, classical music, and film. The privileged, hyperintelligent girl Paloma plans to kill herself on her next birthday because adult life is a sham. Both of them are doomed to loneliness and self-destruction…but then a new tenant moves in, and an odd sort of salvation between dissimilar creatures takes place.

I won’t lie. The book made me cry, especially the part about the camellias. And I expected Barbery to go for the Hallmark ending and ruin a great book, and she didn’t. My faith in humanity is officially restored.

* Interpreter of Maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri. I blame Bam for this. She was reading Lahiri the other day and tweeted that Interpreter of Maladies got a Pulitzer–a collection of short stories, getting a Pulitzer. I had to read it. I flat-out loved every story. I am still thinking about Mrs. Sen, though I suspect my favorite story is a toss-up between Sexy and A Real Durwan. The only wrong note was The Third And Final Continent, mostly because the exposition at the end seemed like a case where the writer got tired and took the easy way.

I find Lahiri very Ibsen-like. There is not a great deal of motion on the surface; it is mostly interior action. This is difficult to pull off without getting boring, but Lahiri does it brilliantly.

* Her Majesty’s Spymaster, Stephen Budiansky. This is history the way it’s meant to be told. Action-packed, deftly explained, and occasionally hysterically funny in a dry academic way, this slim biography of Walsingham–the man who, more than anyone other than Cecil, kept Queen Elizabeth I on the throne–just knocked it out of the park for me. It starts with a gripping description of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre and managed to make me finally understand what the hell was going on with Mary Queen of Scots and why she and Elizabeth acted the way they did. I’ve read other books that haven’t given me half as much insight into Elizabethan society and political maneuvering.

* Along For The Ride, Sarah Dessen. I’m a big, big Dessen fan. I bought this in hardcover because I couldn’t wait. (Dessen’s Dreamland is one of the best YA books I’ve ever read, hands-down.) The protagonist, Auden, is an insomniac overachiever, dealing with her parents’ divorce. In trademark Dessen style, with lyricism and deft characterization, Auden finds solace in nighttime rambles with another insomniac, a boy haunted by a deadly accident. However, it’s in Auden’s relationship with her stepmother and her halting, painful relationship with her demanding mother, that Dessen’s craft really shines. A very solid, very beautiful YA book.

If I ever meet Sarah Dessen in person my brain is going to melt from the sheer fangirl squee. Nuff said.

So, it’s been a good run for me lately. I’m still working very slowly on other books, ones I either have to savor or slow down and really untangle each word of. Obfuscation is considered a sign of academic and literary athleticism, but it’s hell to work through even when one loves the material.

Poor, poor me. Yeah, I’m just unlucky all over, ain’t I.

Over and out.

First of all, a couple messages: Thanks to Tami H. for the virtual chocolate–it made my day. And AJ: your WordPress.com username is totally separate from the username on your own hosted WP blog. Just go sign up for that (as Kerry notes, you don’t have to use the blog at all, I use mine as a placeholder, though I should probably find some way to mirror it…is there a plugin to crosspost to a WP-hosted blog?) ANYWAY, that will give you an API key you can use for Akismet and will make all sorts of stuff totally easier.

*cracks knuckles* We got your tech support right here, babe.

SO. Evil Ways is the second Chastain & Morris investigation, written by Justin Gustainis. Justin approached me for a quote for Black Magic Woman, the first Quincey Morris book, and I loved it. (I have also grown to adore Justin, but that’s beside the point.) I also loved Evil Ways. So, on to the review!

Evil Ways opens in Iraq, during the looting of a museum in Baghdad. A book is stolen, and right away the reader begins to suspect something is Very Very Wrong. The book contains a ritual, and a mad millionaire wants to use it to grant himself near-immortality and a cure to whatever Bad Disease he has. (My vote is cancer, but it’s not explicitly stated. Doesn’t matter, either.) The Mad Millionaire, Walter Grobius, has hired a sorcerer to help him–and the sorcerer knows his stuff.

Enter our good guys, Quincey Morris (yes, a descendant of one of Dracula’s hunters) and his pal Libby Chastain, a “white” witch.

This is one of the things I love about Justin’s work. The magic has rules, and Justin has done his research. He peppers the work with occult in-jokes–but never so many as to detract from the story. And I can tell he’s boned up (pardon the term) on Western occult theories and techniques. Not only that, but he’s thought long and hard about why the magic works the way it does in his world, and he sticks to it. I’ve read enough fantasy and urban fantasy by now to appreciate an author whose magical rules don’t change to service the plot.

There’s plenty more to appreciate about this book. For one thing, the heroes don’t know who they’re fighting for most of the book, and each group of heroes (Quincey and Libby, and Fenton and O’Connell the FBI agents, then Hannah Widmark, and the Sisterhood of white witches) has their own motivations as well as their own pieces of the puzzle. The interlocking pieces of the plot all come together in a cinematic showdown during a black-magic sabbat that was alternately hilarious and horrifying for all the right reasons. Plus, the villains have believable motivations as well–Pardee the sorcerer and Grobius the millionaire are perfectly prepared to do away with each other if and when they can, and both want this ritual done for different reasons. The villains aren’t cardboard, and I like that.

Gustainis is still a “young” writer, and there are some flaws in the book. One is a little too much exposition “tell” instead of characterization “show” at some points; especially when the academic tone rubs through. Don’t get me wrong–the academic tone works wonders when he’s starting out a chapter to set a scene. But when it comes to (in particular) Libby Chastain saying something prim instead of cursing and Quincey noticing it and realizing they’re in deep shit, the academic tone is a distraction. This is something practice and growth will solve, and Gustainis’s craft has noticeably improved between the first and second Morris & Chastain books. (He was no slouch to begin with, either.)

The ending also felt a bit abrupt, but that could have been because I was enjoying the book so much and didn’t want it to be over. There’s also a little bit of over-the-top when it comes to the bad guys–I mean, Pardee kills kittens, for Chrissake–but it works because that’s the way the world set up and it’s internally consistent, something many books that feature magic just aren’t. (Can you tell that’s a pet peeve over here at Casa Saintcrow?)

These are tiny little quibbles when compared to deft pacing, overall solid characterization (my favorite was Hannah Widmark[1], who as a secondary character stole the show and came close to taking over the whole damn book) and a number of fun pop-culture references and nods. I think I already mentioned Harry Dresden’s favorite bar and bartender showing up in this book, as well as references to a certain reporter and an awesome cameo by a guy named Frank.

These references may end up dating the book–for example, if you don’t have Netflix or don’t remember the original series, Frank is not going to be any big deal to you. HOWEVER (and this is a big however) these cameos are very adroitly handled and stand up as tertiary characterizations on their own merit, adding breadth and depth to the world Gustainis has created.

I really can’t wait for the next book in this series, and I enjoyed this one very much. Like I’ve said before, there are very few books that I am pulled into and stop “looking under the hood” of anymore, and I can rely on Justin to give me a rollicking good time without jolting me out of the story with bad craft. All in all, a thumb’s-up read, and I recommend Evil Ways for anyone who likes their occult fiction and urban fantasy smart, fun, fast, and occasionally brutal.

[1] And Hannah is so totally hot. She’s a girl after my own heart, especially her introductory scene, where she does a Lady Vengeance ALL OVER a nasty vampire. Here’s hoping Justin will give Hannah her own series…hint, hint…

I’m finally (just got a chance to start it last night) reading Justin Gustainis’s Evil Ways, the second Morris & Chastain Investigation. (Yes, that Quincy Morris.) I’m currently on page 195 and enjoying myself immensely. Huge bonus: this book boasts an appearance by Mac, of Dresden Files fame. (You’ll also hear about a certain reporter.)

Justin can tell a hell of a story and is very deft with pacing. There’s some things I’d do differently on a craft level, of course, but that’s true for any book. What’s important is that I’m two-thirds of the way through the book and wishing I could slow down to savor it, which is a rare and wonderful thing for me.

So, if you’re looking for a great urban fantasy read with enough in-jokes and high-octane action (not to mention good solid research and some damn fine writing and plotting) to make any sane reader scream with joy…look, I can’t make it any plainer, I LOVE THIS BOOK.

I’m going to dive back in now. Expect to hear more tomorrow!