Straight Up

Title: Straight Up
Author: James Lear
Published: 2015 by Cleis Press
Genre: Cocks, and there's some danger and politics and stuff, too
Pages: 289



This time, I was determined to finish reading and update before the year ticked to an end! Sequel to the sticky ending of 2014, The Hardest Thing, and a lovely xmas/bday present. This time, the SO slipped in a few screaming pink Post-It -notes with happy penises drawn on them. Only found one of them in a bus. Jolly cocks! As if the book wasn't already full of those!

Dan Stagg, ex-marine, current gym-worker, is back. Life seems to be getting somewhat better for him as he builds bridges with his parents, and sees as much of his long-distance boyfriend as they can manage. Luckily there's Skype in the modern world, 'Fucking Facebook', and specialized sites for, say, veterans to find each other and catch up. Dan has signed up to one such site, and one day, receives a message from an old comrade who is keen to meet. There is an actual plot-reason for the meeting, but there's also plenty of cock. Dan is soon elbow-deep in danger again, with old sins coming to haunt -and hurt- members of an old, secret mission.

I really want to read The Hardest Thing again, now. Plus the Mitch Mitchell Mysteries. All of them.Can't I just quit my job and read for a living?


   "On your knees, soldier. I'm coming in from behind."


And that makes 80 books in 2015, holy shit! EXCEPT that I did indeed finish the first one in 2014, so, no. Not 80, 79. Still, that's plenty of books!

Happy New Year! Wee!

Norma

Nimi: Norma
Kirjoittaja: Sofi Oksanen
Julkaistu: 2015, Like
Genre: Draamaa ja vähän fantasiaakin
Sivuluku: 304




Synttarilahja osui taas nappiin, kyllä se äiti tietää mitä ostaa kun suoraan kysyttäessä vastaa! Myönnän, halusin Norman omaksi aika pitkälti kauniin ulkonäön vuoksi. Juonesta en paljon tiennyt, mutta toki sen että Oksasesta pidän. Yritän pitää spoilerit minimissään.


Norma on aivan tavallinen Helsingissä asuva nainen: töitä on välillä vaikea pitää ja saada, äiti asuu naapurissa, miesten kanssa menee vähän niin ja näin. Hiukset tuntuvat elävän omaa elämäänsä. Ja äiti käveli juuri ilmeisesti ihan syyttä metron alle Sörnäisessä. Norma selviää hautajaisista niin ja näin, mutta kulmilla alkaa äkkiä pyöriä äidin 'kavereita', joita hän ei muista ikinä tavanneensa, mutta joilla tuntuu olevan kiire ja hätä päästä juttusille.


Kirja kaappasi mukaansa heti parin sivun jälkeen: sain sen tapaninaamuna, ja seuraavan päivän iltaan mennessä oli jo luettu. Aikaisemmin olisi jo ollut jos ei olisi tarvinnut sosiaalinen olla, niin! Sulattelen vielä loppua, mutta muuten nautin joka sivusta, auki kiertyvästä nutturasta jonka sisältä löytyi salaisuuksia ja tragedioita.




Kymmentä vaille kahdeksan äiti oli kiirehtinyt metroasemalle, vaikka hänen olisi pitänyt olla matkalla lähellä sijaitsevaan kampaamoon. Silminnäkijöiden mukaan hän oli miltei juossut, mutta aamuisin monilla oli kiire eikä se ollut herättänyt kummeksuntaa. Norma veti henkeen kahvinpaahtimon tuoksua, joka oli sama kuin äidin viimeisenä aamuna, ja ylitti matkalla Vaasanaukion, kuten äitikin. Hän ohitti vauhdilla marketin kynnyksellä kaljanmyynnin alkua odottavan porukan ja yritti nähdä jotain, mikä olisi voinut vaikuttaaa äidin päätökseen, jotain mikä olisi tehnyt siitä ymmärrettävän. Hän oli valinnut käytännölliset ballerinat, caprit ja kauluksellisen puuvillapaidan, tavanomaiset työvaatteensa, jollaisiin äitikin oli pukeutunut sinä aamuna, ja riensi liukuportaita alas laiturille, kuten äiti oli tehnyt, toisteli anteeksi pyyhältäessään maalaisten ohi, jotka eivät ymmärtäneet pysytellä oikealla, vaan tukkivat portaat koko leveydeltä, aivan kuten hekin olivat tehneet muutettuaan Helsinkiin. Laiturilla hän istui penkille, jolle äiti ei ollut istunut. Metro oli syöksynyt laiturille saman tien. Äiti oli viskannut penkin alle kengät ja käsilaukun, sitten hän oli ollut poissa. 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Title: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Author: Ken Kesey
Published: 1962
Genre: Drama!
Pages: 320




I did not think I'd like this book as much as I did. I mean, I'd seen the movie at some point, and it has always haunted me a little, so once I found the book I thought it'd be worth a read, but I didn't really know I'd like it this much. Lunch breaks flew by!


One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is narrated by Chief Bromden, an apparently deaf and mute inmate of a psychiatric hospital. The ward is run by nurse Ratched, who has the patients and the doctor firmly under her heel, kept there by her three underling orderlies. All is as orderly and serene as it can be, until a new inmate comes. McMurphy has faked insanity to escape prison and spend his sentence at the hospital, thinking it a better place. Not the best of ideas, as it turns out, but McMurphy sets out to make the best of his stay, and to give the patients some of their spines back.


I seriously loved reading this book. I had only vague memories of the movie, a general idea that it won't end well, basically, and some characters. One of my favourites this year for sure, this and the Hexslinger-books. There's just something about wild redheads, I guess.





   "Patient McMurphy" --the boy with the pipe feels he should try to defend his position and save face just a little bit-- "does not strike me as a coward."
   I expect her to get mad, but she doesn't; she just gives him that let's-wait-and-see look and says, "I didn't say he was exactly a coward, Mr. Gideon; oh, no. He's simply very fond of someone. As a psychopath, he's much too fond of a Mr. Randle Patrick McMurphy to subject him to any needless danger." She gives the boy a smile that puts his pipe out for sure this time. "If we just wait for a while, our hero will--what is it you college boys say?--give up his bit? Yes?"
   "But that may take weeks--" the boy starts.
   "We have weeks," she says. She stands up, looking more pleased with herself than I've seen her look since McMurphy came to trouble her a week ago. "We have weeks, or months, or even years if need be. Keep in mind that Mr. McMurphy is committed. The length of time he spends in this hospital is entirely up to us. Now, if there is nothing else..."

Whispers Under Ground (again!)

Title: Whispers Under Ground
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2012
Genre: Urban fantasy
Pages: 322


Woo, again already! The sixth book in the series was supposed to come out a month ago, but it was postponed to next June. Aww... but at least there's now time to re-read three, four and five before it comes out! And since it's all Christmassy and shit, I re-read Whispers Under Ground.

American art student, magical pottery, tainted lettuce, FBI, yadda yadda. Loved it possibly even more than the first time around, and now I noticed the nod or two towards the next book. Which I wanted to start straight away, but let's pace ourselves here and read something else in between.

Coincidentally, since it was me and Kindle's -sorry, Kindle and I's- anniversary, I got it new covers. With the London Tube map on them. Nice.


   "You're so boring," she said. "You'd think a copper who was a wizard would be more interesting Harry Potter wasn't this boring. I bet Gandalf could drink you under the table."
   Probably true, but I don't remember the bit where Hermione gets so wicked drunk that Harry has to pull the broomstick over on Buckingham Palace Road just so she can be sick in the gutter. Once Lesley wiped her mouth with the napkins I'd so boringly kept in the glove compartment against such an eventuality, she resumed by pointing out that Merlin probably had something to teach me about the raising of the wrist. 
   I would have been subjected to a longer list except Lesley had grown up reading Sophie Kinsella and Helen Fielding and so ran out of fictional wizards at Severus Snape, after which our journey home continued in relative quiet. 

Interesting Times

Title: Interesting Times
Author: Terry Pratchett
Published: 1994
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 368 on the Kindle


The 17th Discworld book is named after the curse May you live in interesting times. Its 'hero' has certainly been 'blessed' by those words: the one and only Wizzard, Rincewind, who this time gets to visit the Agatean Empire. Revolution is at hand, and the Empire has requested the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork to send the Great Wizzard to help. Rincewind, finally at a place approaching happy after the events of Sourcery and Eric, isn't happy. Luckily there just happen to be some old, old friends around the Empire, and once the Great Wizzards stops running -let's face it, it's what he's best at- they might actually get something done about the revolution.

The Agatean Empire reminds the reader of China, and there are many familiar-sounding elements, such as the Red Army and tea ceremonies. (Lord Hong was watching the tea ceremony. It took three hours, but you couldn't hurry a good cuppa.) It's about countries like that, about revolutions, and about the differences between civilisation and things barbaric. And it's loads of fun, of course.  I've read it before, and to my recollection didn't enjoy it this much the last time.


   He'd never asked for an exciting life. What he really liked, what he sought on every occasion, was boredom. The trouble was that boredom tended to explode in your face. Just when he thought he'd found it he'd be suddenly involved in what he supposed other people - thoughtless, feckless people - would call an adventure. And he'd be forced to visit many strange lands and meet exotic and colourful people, although not for very long because usually he'd be running. He'd seen the creation of the universe, although not from a good seat, and had visited Hell and the afterlife. He'd been captured, imprisoned, rescued, lost and marooned. Sometimes it had all happened on the same day. 


Wow, it's already been a year -and a few days- with the Kindle! And about 30 books! It's been a good year. I celebrated by ordering a new pretty case for it. Poor thing gets dragged all around the place, squished between workplace lunches and dirty woolly socks. It needs all the protection it can get.

So here's to Kindly years and years and books and books and books to come!

Viiltäjä-Jack

Nimi: Viiltäjä-Jack - Kuinka paljastimme murhaajan
Alkuperäinen nimi: Naming Jack the Ripper
Kirjoittaja: Russell Edwards ja Jari Louhelainen
Julkaistu: 2015
Genre: Historiaa ja faktaa ja sen sellaista
Sivuluku: 388 + liitteet




Nyt ollaan jännyyden äärellä. Viiltäjä-Jack on hirvittävänä mysteerinä kiehtonut ihmisiä alustaan eli vuoden 1888 syksyn raaoista murhista asti. Köyhien prostituoitujen viiltely- ja paloittelumurhista on vuosien saatossa kasvanut turistiteollisuuden haara, ja tappajan henkilöllisyyttä on yritetty selvittää lukemattomia kertoja. Kaikilla on ollut oma 'suosikkinsa', ja kaikki ovat omasta mielestään ainoina osuneet siihen oikeaan. Turisteja kävelyttävien oppaiden toimeentulon onneksi näin ei ole kuitenkaan vielä käynyt: häviäisihän mysteeristä jotain totuuden paljastuttua.


Nyt näyttäisi kuitenkin siltä, että innokkaasti asiaa tutkinut ja vanhoja johtolankoja yhdistellyt Edwards, ja minulta ihan yli pään meneviä dna- ja geenijuttuja tutkiva Louhelainen olisivat saaneet totuuden selville. Kirjan ja tulosten julkaisu sai suurta huomiota, niin hyvää kuin pahaakin. Kenen tahansa luettavaksi kirjoitetussa kirjassa ei monien mielestä selvitetä tarpeeksi tarkasti kaikkia todisteille tehtyjä kokeita, koska se tahdottiin pitää nimenomaan ymmärrettävänä tekstinä.


Sain kirjan eilen varattuani sen kirjastosta pari viikkoa sitten, ja tarkoitus oli taas vain lukaista vähän alkua ja saada viikonloppuna vähän muutakin tehtyä. Ajattelin kirjan sisältävän paljon jaarittelua juuri niistä pääni yli menevistä dna-jutuista, mutta ainakin siinä oli onnistuttu hyvin, että teksti oli ymmärrettävää, ja erittäin koukuttavaa. Murhat on kerrattu seikkaperäisesti, pääepäillyt käyty läpi ja eliminoitu yksitellen. Edwards on selkeästi asiaansa paneutunut ja innostunut selvittämään mysteerin, ja Louhelaisen toppuutteleva tutkijan asenne huvitti ja loi luottamusta, että nämä asiat on nyt tutkittu oikeasti pidemmän kaavan mukaan, ja lopputulos on aika pirun varma.

Olisi sitä kai tosiaan voinut viikonlopullaan muutakin tehdä kuin lukea kellon ympäri, mutta no ragrets. Henkilökohtaisesti olen valmis uskomaan Viiltäjä-Jackin salaisuuden vihdoinkin selvitetyksi. (Aion silti nauttia Mooren ja Campbellin From Hell -sarjakuvasta vielä monet kerrat. (Josta tehty samanniminen elokuva muuten alunperin herätti Edwardsin kiinnostuksen aiheeseen!))




   Nykypäivän näkökulmasta katsottuna mahdollisen todistuskappaleen poistaminen oli aika onnetonta poliisityötä. Noina aikoina uhrin irtaimistosta ei kuitenkaan suuremmalti piitattu, sillä se ei lisännyt tutkimuksiin mitään olennaista, koska nykyaikaisia tutkimusmenetelmiä ei vielä ollut. Mitä taas rikosten ratkaisemiseen tulee, niin reilu sata vuotta myöhemmin ajateltuna kysymyksessä oli paras mahdollinen sattuma. Mikäli saali olisi kohdannut saman kohtalon kuin Catherinen muut tavarat, se olisi tuhoutunut muun todistusaineiston tavoin. Olen Simpsonille ikuisesti suunnattoman kiitollinen, että hän otti sen, samoin kuin hänen jälkeläisilleen, jotka pitivät saalista huolen. Tutkimukseni ovat vaatineet paljon ankaraa työntekoa ja kärsivällisyyttä, mutta olen myös saanut osakseni hieman onnea, ja tämä yksittäinen tosiasia, murhapaikalla olleen saalin säilyttäminen, on varmasti ollut onnenpotkuista suurin. 

Viimeinen Partio

Nimi: Viimeinen Partio
Alkuperäinen nimi: Последний дозор
Kirjoittaja: Sergei Lukjanenko
Julkaistu: 2006, suomeksi 2015
Genre: Urbaani fantasia, kauhu
Sivuluku: 332


Ja neljäs! Nimen perusteella teki mieli sanoa viimeinen, mutta viides on jo venäjäksi ilmestynyt, joten jatkoa varmasti suomeksikin vielä piisaa. Parempi ainakin olisi...

Anton pääsee tällä kertaa reissaamaan! Nuori venäläinen turisti kuolee Edinburghissa hämärissä oloissa, verettömäksi imettynä kahden kaulassa olevan reiän kautta. 1+1 = vampyyri. Koska turistipojan isällä on yhteyksiä Yöpartioon, lähetetään Anton tutkimaan asiaa paikan päälle. Kirjaa aloitellessani -ja edellisestä osasta raportoidessani- totesin että näissä kirjoissa ei paljon räiskytellä vaan meno on verkkaista, juonittelua enemmän kuin holtitonta tulipallo-loitsujen viskomista. No tässä osassa päästään sinne räiskyttelyynkin käsiksi. Vauhtia ja vaaratilanteita riittää, kun juonenkäänteiden takaa löytyy itse Merlin ja luomuksensa.

Tämä kirja hujahti läpi aika nopeaan, ehkä koska vauhtikin oli muita nopeampi, mutta myös koska parin viikon hullu kiire ja ympäriinsä juoksentelu hellitti, ja ehdin rauhassa lueskella. Jee. Muuttoapunakin ehdin olla, ja muuttaja laittoi parikin uutta kirjaa lainaan, että ei tässä lukeminen pääse loppumaan vaikka tämän sarjan seuraavaa osaa saakin nyt odotella.

Ai niin! Se piti vielä mainita, että kun sarjan ensimmäiseen kirjaan perustuen on tehty niitä leffoja, niin Viimeisestä Partiosta oli hauska bongata suoria viittauksia niihin.


   Neljä miestä tanssi ripaskaa.
   Ja jutteli keskenään selkeällä venäjän kielellä, vaikkakin ukrainalaisittain korostaen. Itse asiassa he puhuivat jonkinlaista salakieltä. Tai siistitty versio siitä olisi saattanut kuulostaa salakieleltä.
   - Skarppaa, vittu! reippaasti tanssahteleva valekasakka mutisi hampaittensa välistä. - Liikkuu, liikkuu! Pysy rytmissä, silkkimulkku! 
   - Vedä vittu päähäs! toinen naamiourho vastasi hänelle hymy edelleen huulillaan. - Heiluttele räpylöitäs äläkä jauha paskaa! Muuten ei tuu fyrkkaa!
   - Tanja, hyppää kehiin, perkele! kolmas sähähti vuorostaan.
   Kukkamekkoon pukeutunut tyttö rupesi tanssimaan, ja "kasakat" saivat hetken hengähtää. Hän kuitenkin ehti vastata miehille ansiokkaasti sanojaan säästämättä:
   - Helvetin urpot! Minä saan hyppiä hiki päässä ja nämä vaan raapii muniaan!
   Aloin raivata tietäni ulos väkijoukosta, jossa siellä täällä kuului kameroiden napsahtelua ja videokameroiden surinaa. Vieressäni joku nainen kysyi kumppaniltaan selvällä venäjän kielellä:
   - Kamalaa... mitä luulet, kiroilevatkohan he aina tuolla tavoin?  

Behold the Man

Title: Behold the Man
Author: Michael Moorcock
Published: 1969 originally
Genre: Science fiction
Pages: 124


It's been about five years since I last read Behold the Man, and then it was in Finnish. Karl Glogauer, psychiatrist manque -learned a new word there!- and time-traveller, has just met the Jesus. Obsessed with religion and Jesus Christ, when he was given the opportunity to try out a time machine, Karl chose to travel back in time to see the man himself. It's safe to say that what he ends up finding... well, it's nothing like what he was expecting. 

Behold the Man is short -read it in one sitting- but it doesn't mean that it's not full of thought-provoking ideas abour religion, destiny and such things. While I enjoyed it as much as five years back, I still maintain that it may not be the best present for that one religious auntie if you want to stay in her will.


   "Christianity is dead." Monica sipped her tea. "Religion is dying. God was killed in 1945."
   "There may yet be a resurrection," he said.
   "Let us hope not. Religion was the creation of fear. Knowledge destroys fear. Without fear, religion can't survive."
   "You think there's no fear about these days?"
   "Not the same kind, Karl."

Hämärän Partio

Nimi: Hämärän Partio
Alkuperäinen nimi: Сумеречный дозор
Kirjoittaja: Sergei Lukjanenko
Julkaistu: 2004, suomeksi 2014
Genre: Urbaani fantasia, kauhu
Sivuluku: 369


On kuulkaa niin kiirettä pitänyt viimeiset pari viikkoa, että hyvä jos olen vähän ehtinyt lukemaan! Mutta pitäisi taas palautella kirjoja kirjastoon, ja kuukausikin on vaihtumassa, joten päivitetään nyt kaikki luetut kirjat taas kerralla!

Kolmannessa Partio-kirjassa jo mennään. Vuosia on vaihtunut muutama sitten Päiväpartion, ja Anton Gorodetskin mukana katsellaan taas ihmisten ja Muiden maailmaa. Tavallista tallaajaa ei voi Muuksi muuttaa, -paitsi Pimeyttä palvelevien valmpyyrien ja ihmissusien toimesta- mutta nyt on kuitenkin käynyt niin, että nimettömän vinkin mukaan joku Muihin kuuluva on luvannut muuttaa ihmisen kaltaisekseen. Vinkki on lähetetty molemmille partioille sekä Inkvisitiolle, ja kaikki ottavat asian melko vakavasti: eihän se nyt käy päinsä, että ihmisiä noin vain luvatta muutellaan!

Kirjan muut kaksi tarinaa jatkavat samalla teemalla, ja tutustutaan legendaariseen Fuaran-kirjaan, jonka avulla on väitetty tehdyn suuriakin muutoksia ihmisistä Muihin. Vauhti on enemmän pohtivaista kuin tavatonta räiskyttelyä, eikä huumoripuoltakaan puutu. Ja ei kun seuraavan kirjan kimppuun!


   Pienen hetken ajan tunsin täysin yllättäen vastenmielisyyttä. Se ei kohdistunut junassa matkaaviin kazakeihin eikä maanmiehiini venäläisiin. Vaan ihmisiin yleensä. Kaikkiin maailman ihmisiin. Mikä Yöpartion tehtävä oikein oli? Erottaa ja suojella, niinkö? Pötyä! Yksikään Pimeyden palvelija tai Päiväpartio ei tee ihmisille yhtä paljon pahaa kuin he itse aiheuttavat itselleen. Mitä yksi nälkäinen vampyyri on verrattuna aivan tavalliseen sarjamurhaajaan, joka raiskaa ja tappaa pikkutyttöjä hisseissä? Mitä yksi tunteeton, rahasta haitallisia taikoja tekevä noita on verrattuna humaaniin presidenttiin, joka öljyn takia antaa käskyn käyttää täsmäohjuksia?
   Shakespearea lainaten: kirotut nuo teidän sukunne! Pysähdyin hetkeksi vaunun eteiseen ja päästin Kostjan menemään edelleni. Jähmetyin paikoilleni tuijottaen sylkiläikkien tahrimaa lattiaa, jonne oli jo ehtinyt kertyä tusinan verran lemuavia tupakantumppeja.
   Mikä minulla oikein oli?
   Olivatko nämä tosiaan omia ajatuksiani?
   Turha teeskennellä. Omia ajatuksiani ne olivat, eivät kenenkään toisen. Kukaan ei ollut käynyt laittamassa niitä päähäni, edes luokittelun yläpuolella oleva Muihin kuuluva ei olisi kyennyt siihen huomaamatta.
   Tällainen minä olin.
   Entinen ihminen.
   Erittäin väsynyt Valon palvelija, joka oli pettynyt kaikkeen maan päällä.

Eric

Title: The Illustrated Eric
Author: Terry Pratchett
Illustrator: Josh Kirby
Published: 1990
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 131




Another fab find from the library! It's Pratchett's take on Faust, the Odyssey, Troy, Hell and all that stuff, in a neat package illustrated wonderfully by Josh Kirby, who painted the covers of many, many Discworld books.


Rincewind, fresh out of Sourcery, suddenly finds himself being summoned by a 13-year old kid called Eric. Eric isn't exactly happy about it, either, as he was attempting to summon a proper demon. Determined to get his summon's worth, Eric demands that Rincewind should grant him three wishes. Being the poor excuse for a Wizzard that he is, Rincewind tells him that he can't grant wishes. Aaand then promptly finds out that yes, he can, actually. Something's strange here...


Kirby's highly detailed illustrations sometimes take up whole pages, and it was fun to get distracted by them. Eric was equally fun to read, and it was just as much fun to spot all the references to our myths and legends. Excellent bedtime reading!




   So Rincewind opened his eyes. There was a ceiling above him; if it was the floor then he was in trouble.
   So far, so good.
   He cautiously felt the surface he was lying on. It was grainy, woody in fact, with the odd nail-hole. A human sort of surface. 
   His ears picked up the crackle of a fire and a bubbling noise, source unknown.
   His nose, feeling that it had been left out of things, hastened to report a whiff of brimstone. 
   Right. So where did that leave him? Lying on a rough wooden floor in a firelit room with something that bubbled and gave off sulphurous smells. In his unreal, dreamy state he felt quite pleased at this process of deduction.
   What else? 
   Oh, yes.
   He opened his mouth and screamed and screamed and screamed.
   This made him feel slightly better. 

Witches Abroad

Title: Witches Abroad
Author: Terry Pratchett
Published: 1991
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 212 in the Witches Trilogy Omnibus version


The Library Fairy was good to me a few weeks back: I found a pile of books to read, including the next in line for the Witches-books in the Discworld epic. Yay! I read Witches Abroad when it came out in Finnish, and basically remembered of it only that it concerns fairytales, and that Gollum gets whacked with a paddle. My favourite bit.

Fairy Godmother/witch Desiderata kicks the bucket, and passes her magic wand to Magrat, with the instructions that the poor girl should not marry the prince, and that under no circumstances should Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg come with Magrat to make sure of it. So of course all three jump on their brooms and head towards Genua, visiting many exciting places on the way, creating excitement and new legends for the locals.

There's fairytales and strange foreign customs and foods all around. Genua also sounds very much like New Orleans with its carneval and voodoo magic. Oh, and a nice absinthe-adventure with bulls!


   Above the noise of the river and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling they could all hear, now, the steady slosh-slosh of another craft heading towards them. 
   'Someone's following us!' hissed Magrat.
   Two pale glows appeared at the edge of the lamplight. Eventually they turned out to be the eyes of a small grey creature, vaguely froglike, paddling towards them on a log.
   It reached the boat. Long clammy fingers grabbed the side, and a lugubrious face rose level with Nanny Ogg's.
   ' 'ullo,' it said. 'It'sss my birthday.'
   All three of them stared at it for a while. Then Granny Weatherwax picked up an oar and hit it firmly over the head. There was a splash, and a distant cursing. 
   'Horrible little bugger,' said Granny, as they rowed on. 'Looked like a troublemaker to me.'
   'Yeah,' said Nanny Ogg. 'It's the slimy ones you have to watch out for.'
   'I wonder what he wanted?' said Magrat.

Päiväpartio

Nimi: Päiväpartio
Alkuperäinen nimi: Дневной дозор
Kirjoittaja: Sergei Lukjanenko ja Vladimir Vasiljev
Julkaistu: 1999, suomeksi 2013
Genre: Urbaani fantasia, kauhu
Sivuluku: 412


Ja toinen osa heti perään. Mitä sitä hidastelemaan kun kaikki kirjastosta löytyivät?

Nimestä voi jo päätellä, että sarjan toisen kirjan päähenkilöt ovat Pimeyden palvelijoita, eli Päiväpartiolaisia. Osa hahmoista on tuttuja jo ensimmäisestä kirjasta, ja on mielenkiintoista päästä kurkistamaan toisen partion työtapoihin, ja miten ne eroavat Yöpartiosta. Kirja koostuu taas kolmesta kronologisessa järjestyksessä olevasta tarinasta. Jokaisella on oma kertoja, tai kaksikin. Vuosituhat lähenee loppuaan: on otollinen aika kaikenlaiselle tulevaisuuden uusille uomille ohjaamiselle, keinoja kaihtamatta.

Takakansi muuten ärsyttävästi paljastaa aika pitkälti koko ensimmäisen tarinan juonen. Ei sentään lopputulosta. Osasta kirjaa oli aistittavissa kirjailijan/kirjailijoiden puolelta ihan pienoisia lämpimiä tunteita Prahaa ja tsekkiläisiä oluita kohtaan. Ei paljon haitannut, koska pidän itsekin molemmista Vltavasti (hö hö hö...). Seuraavan kirjan kimppuun? Seuraavan kirjan kimppuun.



   Anton tyhjensi tuoppinsa synkkä ilme kasvoillaan ja laski sen äänettömästi ravintolan tunnuksella varustetun lasinalusen päälle.
   Hän ei ollut enää se nuori velho, joka oli ensimmäistä kertaa elämässään joutunut kenttähommiin jäljittämään salametsästykseen sortunutta naisvampyyria. Hän oli muuttunut melkoisesti, vaikka aikaa noista tapahtumista oli kulunut verrattain vähän. Tänä aikana hän oli saanut riittävän monta kertaa vakuuttua siitä, kuinka paljon Pimeyttä maailmassa oli. Ja Pimeyden velho Edgarin synkkä näkökulma -"olemme vain panoksia Isojen poikien pyssyissä, kun he selvittelevät välejään, parempi siis vain juoda olutta ja lakata ruikuttamasta"- teki häneen jostain syystä syvän vaikutuksen. Jälleen kerran Anton mietti, että Pimeyden palvelijat olivat näennäisessä mutkattomuudessaan toisinaan lähempänä ihmisiä kuin Valon palvelijat, jotka taistelivat korkeampien ihanteiden puolesta. 
   -Olet silti väärässä, Edgar, Anton sanoi lopulta. -Meissä on teihin verrattuna yksi perustavaa laatua oleva ero. Me elämme muita varten. Palvelemme, emme hallitse. 

Yöpartio

Nimi: Yöpartio
Alkuperäinen nimi: Ночной дозор
Kirjoittaja: Sergei Lukjanenko
Julkaistu: 1998, suomeksi vasta 2012
Genre: Urbaani fantasia, kauhu
Sivuluku: 496


Nowkku tätä suositteli muutama viikko takaperin, ja Kashiihan sitten sen kirjastosta varasi. Nyt on jo toinen kirja menossa, ja loputkin (tähän mennessä?) neliosaisesta sarjasta suomennettua kirjaa pöydän kulmalla odottamassa (samoin kuin pino muita jänniä kirjoja joita samalla kirjastoreissulla sattui mukaan. When it rains it pours, tai jotain sinnepäin...).

Yöpartio on tosiaan venäläisen kauhufantasiasarjan aloitusteos, jossa Yöpartiossa työskentelevän Valon palvelijan Anton Gorodetskin kautta tutustutaan Moskovan hämärään puoleen. Maailmassamme asuu ihmisten rinnalla Muita, ihmissusia, vampyyreja, erinäisiä taikuuden käyttäjiä, joista monet jakautuvat joko Valon tai Pimeyden palvelijoihin ja työskentelevät Yö- tai Päiväpartiossa, vastapuolen tyyppejä syynäämässä. Anton on ollut jo viitisen vuotta konttorirottana mutta on nyt päässyt kokeilemaan kenttätyötä. Yhteen työyöhön mahtuu sekä luvatta metsästäviä vampyyreja että nuori nainen, jonka päällä pyörii niin voimakas kirous, että se uhkaa tuhota koko Moskovan jos sitä ei saada kutistettua.

Anton tuntuu kyynistyvän hetki hetkeltä: kirjan kolmen tarinan aikana hän saa huomata, että Valon palvelijatkaan eivät pelaa aina ihan puhtaalla pakalla. Teksti on sujuvasti suomennettu: välillä tuli vastaan, ei nyt omituisia mutta hämmentäviä sanankäänteitä tai hahmojen toimia, mutta vaikka ihan naapurissa nyt ollaankin, niin tämän voinee laskea vieraan kulttuurin piikiin.

Julkaisuvuotta netistä etsiessäni selvisi, että kirjoja on venäjäksi viisi, joista tuoreinta ei siis ole vielä suomennettu, ja että elokuviakin löytyy kaksi! Molemmat tosin keskittyvät Yöpartion tarinoihin, vaikka toisen nimi onkin Päiväpartio.


Meidän Partion työntekijöiden elämästä suurin osa kului töissä. Tämä ei johtunut siitä, että olisimme olleet intomielisiä työnarkomaaneja: mekin ymmärsimme, että työ on vain sarja nälän aiheuttamia pakkoliikkeitä. Syynä ei ollut myöskään se, että olisimme pitäneet työtämme erityisen mielenkiintoisena. Suurin osa Yöpartion työstä oli tylsää partiointia ja toimistotyötä. Syy oli yksinkertaisesti se, että meitä oli niin vähän. Päiväpartioon oli paljon helpompi saada työntekijöitä, sillä jokainen pimeyden palvelija halusi kiihkeästi päästä vallan makuun. Me Valon palvelijat olimme aivan toista maata. 
   Mutta työn lisäksi jokaisella meistä oli elämässään pieni kaistale, joka ei kuulunut kenellekään muulle, ei Valolle eikä Pimeydelle. Se kuului vain meille itsellemme. Emme kätkeneet sitä, mutta emme myöskään esitelleet sitä avoimesti. Se oli jäänne menneisyydestä, siltä ajalta, kun olimme vielä olleet ihmisiä.

Death of a Snob

Title: Death of a Snob
Author: M.C. Beaton
Published: 1991
Genre: Murder mystery
Pages: 148



   Police Constable Hamish Macbeth was a desperate man--ill, friendless, and, at the approach to Christmas, near to death.
   Or so he told himself.
   The start of the misery had been the beginning of a Scottish winter which seemed hell-bent on proving any scientist believing in the greenhouse effect a fool. Like many others in the village of Lochdubh on the west coast of Sutherland, Hamish had contracted a severe cold with all its attendant miseries of boiling head, running nose, aching joints, and monumental self-pity. Although he had not phoned anyone to tell of his misery, nevertheless, like all people in the grip of self-pity, he expected his friends to have telepathic powers. 
   The only bright spark in all the gloom was that he was going home for Christmas. His parents had moved to a croft house and land near Rogart. He would soon be there, with his mother to fuss over him.



Except that mum calls on the next page and tells poor Hamish that he can't come, on the account of a visiting aunt who loathes Hamish. So, when his old crush Priscilla asks for a favour, Hamish accepts: the favour, after all, comes with a free holiday.

Priscilla's friend Jane runs a health farm on one of the small islands nearby, and is convinced after some strange accidents that someone is trying to kill her. Hamish agrees to go and spend the holidays with Jane and a group of her dear friends, to serve and protect, and eat free food.

Once again, a quick and enjoyable read! Death of a Snob is one of the earliest books: I tend to grab these when and where I can, but luckily it doesn't matter all that much in which order you read 'em. Hamish and Lochdubh hardly change.

The Kiss Murder

Title: The Kiss Murder
Author: Mehmet Murat Somer
Published: 2003, English translation in 2009
Genre: Crime fiction in high heels
Pages: 245 + Glossary


Number two in the Hop-Çiki-Yaya -thrillers! Our nameless heroine is out to have a good night at the club she partly owns, when one of the girls comes asking for help. Buse once had a serious affair with someone very important, and although she's not the type to kiss and tell, word of it somehow got out, and some very dangerous people are now after her letters and photos.

Mostly annoyed with the secretive Buse, our heroine mostly ignores her for now. Buse ends up dead, and the very dangerous people turn their attention to our heroine, believing that she now holds the photos and such. She doesn't, so you can see that there's a bit of a problem here.

As much fun as these books are -and they are!- the endings seem to be quite abrupt. It's best not to take them too seriously, and just enjoy the ride and the pretty outfits. Man, I wish I looked like Audrey Hepburn...


   As always, Hasan arrived to save the day. He wore his usual low-slung jeans. Hasan was every bit as macho as one would expect of a waiter who bared his butt crack in a transvestite bar. I apologized to Süleyman and turned to Hasan. As I did so, I kept my arms slightly extended, placing my hands one atop the other on my lap. My legs were parallel and my feet side by side. In other words, I was the picture of Audrey Hepburn perfection. Had I worn my gloves the effect would have been better still. But perfection is elusive. I lightly batted my false eyelashes, then raised my eyebrows as I opeed my eyes wide, confronting Hasan with a questioning look that also contained a hint of a smile. 
   "I didn't see you come in," he said. "Sofya called you twice. She said it's important." 

Soul Music

Title: Soul Music
Author: Terry Pratchett
Published: 1994
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 372


A Pratchett sounded like a nice change after Byzantium Endures, so here's the 16th Discworld-book! I'm not sure whether I've read this one, not in Finnish anyway. It felt vaguely familiar, so I think I've read it at some point...

The story starts when a young harpist Imp, the troll Lias, and dwarven Glod try to get into the Musician's Guild in Ankh-Morpork, but can't afford it. To make money, they start playing music together. After an unfortunate sitting accident Imp loses his harp, and buys a strange guitar to replace it, from a shady little shop that surely wasn't there last time someone checked. The guitar seems to have a mind of its own, and soon The Band With Rocks In starts to get attention, both good and bad. The Guild doesn't like unlicensed music!

Meanwhile, Death is upset over the deaths of his daughter Ysabell and previous apprentice Mort, and decides to forget everything. It's not as easy as you'd think, and while Death is buried in sand at the Foreign Legion, his grand-daughter Susan has to take Binky's reins. But it's not fair that the cute young musician has to die, right?

As you might have guessed, the book is FULL of puns and references to the history of popular music. I'm sure I missed plenty, but giggled a lot and laughed out loud at the 'We're on a mission from Glod' -bit. Also, I have to point this out, since I didn't get it myself... Imp is from Llamedos, which spelled backwards issss Sod 'em all. *giggle* The only bit I didn't like was the Biography at the end... the Kindle version had been updated after March. Thanks for the reminder...


   Scum, who out of the whole group had the least amount of cerebral activity to get between him and true observation of the world, was trailing behind. He had an uneasy feeling that he'd just walked over someone's grave.
   'That one looked a bit sort of thin,' he muttered.
   The others weren't paying any attention. They were back to the usual argument.
   'I'm fed up with being Surreptitious Fabric,' said Jimbo. 'It's a silly name.'
   'Really, really thin,' said Scum. He felt in his pocket.
   'Yeah, I liked it best when we were The Whom,' said Noddy.
   'But we were only The Whom for half an hour!' said Crash. 'Yesterday. In between bein' The Blots and Lead Balloon, remember?'
   Scum located a tenpenny piece and turned back.
   'There's bound to be some good name,' said Jimbo. 'I just bet we'll know it's right just as soon as we see it.'
   'Oh, yeah. Well, we've got to come up with some name we don't start arguing about after five minutes,' said Crash. 'It's not doing our career any good if people don't know who we are.'
   'Mr. Dibbler says it definitely is,' said Noddy.
   'There you go, old man,' said Scum, back down the street.
   THANK YOU, said the grateful Death.
   Scum hurried to catch up with the others, who were back on the subject of leopards with hearing difficulties.

Byzantium Endures

Title: Byzantium Endures
Author: Michael Moorcock
Published: 1994 by Phoenix Paperbacks, originally in 1981
Genre: Historical fiction
Pages: 404


I've been looking at the last three books of the series, sitting patiently on my shelves, and thinking I should get around to reading them. Then I realised I don't really remember any details from the first one, and should really read it again. Hell, it's been four years since the first time.

Maxim Arturovitch Pyatnitski was born in Kiev, Ukraine, on 1st January 1900, and is just as much of a cock as I remembered. Even more so! A self-proclaimed genius -or the self-proclaimed genius of the century- the fatherless youth is sent by relatives first to Odessa and then to St. Petersburg to learn about life and to get a degree, so that he could work for the family, but history gets in the way.

An excellent example of the unreliable narrator, Pyat tells the story of his cocaine-fuelled life in a changing world, where he is always just about to become a famous inventor. Parts of the book are pure rantings about how he was wronged, how the Jews are to blame for all -he's horribly anti-semitic, too, what a charming fellow!- and how he oh so smartly handles every situation. But his story is a captivating one, as are the times he's living in. I better get to The Laughter of Carthage before I forget too much.


   He made a gesture towards the suburbs and beyond. 'Those poor bastards out there have nothing. They don't believe in governments - nationalist, Tsarist, Bolshevik, Polish, French. They believe in freedom and owning a plot of land.'
   'To nurture their own gardens,' I said.
   'If you like.'
   'Voltaire,' I explained.
   'I know.' He was amused. 'That's why they put me with you. I'm the intellectual of the division.' He began to laugh, 'I did a year at technical college before I was conscripted.'
   'You were at the Front?'
   'Galicia.'
   'You'll fight the Bolsheviks when they attack?'
   'You're crazy,' he said. He patted my tube. 'This will fight the Bolsheviks, comrade professor. I'll be running like fuck for the nearest train.'
   I laughed with him. We were of an identical mind.

Death of a Perfect Wife

Title: Death of a Perfect Wife
Author: M.C. Beaton
Published: 1989
Genre: Murder mystery
Pages: 175


This is one of the earliest Hamish Macbeth -books, and I am reading the list the right way this time! I wanted something completely different after Fool's Quest, and these books always deliver.

Peace of little Lochdubh is broken again, this time by newcomers Trixie and Paul Thomas, who have bought a house and decided to turn it into a bed & breakfast. It's not easy or cheap, though, and Trixie is soon circling the houses of the village, looking for spare furniture, enchanting the ladies with her wifely skills. She manages to make a few enemies along the way, not in the least in the husbands whose wives are suddenly transformed, and as you can guess by the name, death comes knocking. Hamish has to solve the mystery, once again without attracting too much attention and dodging promotions.

The TV-series based on these books -which I love- is pretty independent from the books, but this has quite obviously inspired one of the episodes! Come to think of it, there's a lot less death in the series...

I haven't had a lot of time to read lately: I have two new colleagues at work, third starting tomorrow, and quiet lunch-breaks are pretty much a thing of the past. No reading, socialising! Ugh. And then I relapsed into Dragon Age: Inquisition. And started three new knitting projects. At once. Well, one is almost done, another halfway through.


   Mrs. Maclean was down on her knees, scrubbing her stone-flagged kitchen floor with ammonia. Not for her the easy road with mop and up-to-date cleanser.
   The radio was blaring out Scottish country dance music. He called to her, but she didn't hear him so he switched off the radio and she looked up.
   "What do you want, you glaiket loon?" she said, wringing the floor cloth savagely and throwing it into the bucket.
   Hamish sighed. The trouble with being a policeman in a small, normally law-abiding village was that you did not strike fear or terror into the heart of anyone.

Fool's Quest

Title: Fool's Quest
Author: Robin Hobb
Published: 2015
Genre: Fantasy
Pages: 766




Only 766 pages? (744 according to some sources) It seemed a lot longer! There were no page numbers on the Kindle version, so I only now found out the actual page count.


Fool's Quest is the second book in Hobb's Fitz and the Fool -trilogy. As much as I loved the first one, it also annoyed me severely. Mostly Fitz's blindness when it came to certain, fairly obvious things. I seriously considered not reading the rest of the new books: The Tawny Man -books ended in a good place, and I could pretend that was the end. But once August rolled in and I remembered that the new book is coming out, I stopped pretending and preordered it. And reading the Rain Wild Chronicles beforehand. And, yes, I'm glad I did. Fool's Quest was wonderful.


The story picks up from where the Fool's Ass ended, moves up a few gears, and just doesn't stop. We get a few calmer moments here and there, but Buckkeep is a busy place, dragons are back, and storylines and characters from the previous books are coming together into a fine mess of intrigue and adventure. As nice as it was to see Fitz at peace at the beginning of the previous book, Fool's Quest with its larger cast feels like the older books. It feels like coming home.

Once again, I'm finding it a little hard to say much without spoilers, and without repeating what I feel I've written again and again for the earlier books: that it's just so damn good to revisit so many old favourite characters. And some of them are literally old now. It's like watching family age! And if some of the events of the book weren't emotional enough by themselves, when I started the book last Sunday, it had been fourteen years almost to date since my granny died. A voracious reader, she liked a bit of fantasy now and again, and loved these books almost as much as I did. I remember how both of us would eagerly await for the Assassin's Quest to be translated to Finnish. She was a bit like Chade to my Fitz, except with books instead of poisons. No I'm not crying you're crying!




   'How do you open the door from my old room?' I'd lost count of how many hours I'd spent searching for that trigger when I was a boy.
   He sighed and then smiled. 'One after another, my secrets have fallen to you. I'll confess, I've always been amused by your inability to find that one. I thought that surely you would stumble on it by accident if nothing else. It's in the drapery pull. Close the curtains completely, and then give a final tug. You won't see or hear a thing, but then you can push the door open. And now you know.'
   'And now I know,' I agreed. 'After half a century of wondering.'
   'Surely not half a century.'
   'I'm sixty,' I reminded him. 'And you started me in the trade when I was less than ten. So, yes, half a century and more.'




So... when's the next book coming?

Rain Wild Chronicles

Title: Dragon Keeper, Dragon Haven, City of Dragons and Blood of Dragons
Author: Robin Hobb
Published: 2009-13
Genre: Fantasy
Pages: 553+570+433+545



I'd pre-ordered Fool's Quest (sequel to last year's Fool's Ass(assin)) and it popped up on my Kindle right on time. I'd even started on it already when I happened to read on the internets that some bits in it 'spoil' the Rain Wild Chronicles,  which are the only ones in Hobb's Elderlings-books that I have not read. What to do, then? I've been intending to read them at some point, so not reading them first could spoil something important. But... but... four books, all around 500 pages?! Yeah, I went and got cracking. No pain, no gain. Or something.

This here is a SPOILER for the Liveship Traders books! At the end of Ship of Destiny, the dragon Tintaglia was working with the liveships and people of both Bingtown and Rain Wilds, to bring the sea serpents up to their old cocooning grounds. After some time, the serpents would come out as dragons, and terror glory would fill the skies again. Dragon Keeper starts at the hatching, but... the serpents had been serpents for too long, and they came out of the cocoons too soon. Mighty dragons, they are not. Cranky and hungry and deadly, yes. Flying magnificence, not so much.

The feeble dragons need keepers and food, and over time, become a nuisance. So a few unwanted outsiders volunteers are hired to take the dragons upriver, to find a place where they might find a better life, and hopefully never come back. There's about 15 dragons with a keeper for most of them, and the river barge Tarman (an ancient Liveship itself) and its crew along for transporting cargo. A few hunters are hired as well, to help the keepers feed the dragons. And there's even an expert on dragons and Elderlings, Alise Finbok from Bingtown, a young wife whose life's passion the exotic creatures have always been. Following her is her husband's secretary, who is not so keen on the stupid animals.

The dragons dream of the ancient Elderling city of Kelsingra, but its whereabouts or whether even two rocks of it stand anymore are unknown. So they trudge on up the Rain Wild river, hoping for a new home. The traveling seems to be good for the dragons: they are growing stronger with the exercise and learning to hunt for themselves. Still, it's nice when the puny humans groom and praise them. The keepers are changing as well, from just being around their dragons, towards what the Elderlings of old used to be. The lost world may not be so lost after all! So much happens and the characters grow and evolve, and, gasp! actually talk to each other when they have misunderstandings! Or secrets. Even I done fucked up reeeal bad -secrets. Not always, but it's so refreshing!

If I remember correctly what I read hastily a few weeks back, these books were originally intended to be just one or two books. The story in Dragon Haven continues straight from the end of Dragon Keeper, and frankly, I've been reading these back to back, jumping straight into the next after finishing one, so that I can't exactly remember where one ended and the next started. City of Dragons again continues straight from where Dragon Haven ended, but it's more the start of a new book than just a new chapter: it brings along new characters, some old familiar ones, some who have only ever been mentioned, and some completely new faces. I may or may not have let out a happy little squee when a few old favourites popped up!

I finished Blood of Dragons late last night, and started again on  Fool's Quest already. Since I was eager to get to it, reading the Rain Wild Chronicles seemed a bit of a chore at times, especially at the beginning, but I did end up caring for the characters, cheering for the dragons, and punching the air and shouting 'Fuck YEAH!' when a certain someone got their comeuppance, and then some! Oh yesssss. Mrs Hobb can be so, so cruel, but she's also so, so good.

And now, I'm going to go and spend the rest of the Sunday reading. I'm eager to get to the new adventures of Fitz and the Fool, but I'm also eager to get to meet the keepers and dragons again!


   But on his return to the city, he had seen what a dragon's wrath could do. She had not intended to pock the paving stones with acid holes, nor fill the harbour basin with sunken ships. That damage had been incidental. He had seen the harm that one dragon, fighting on behalf of a city, could do.
   He stood on the deck and tried to count the oncoming dragons. He stopped at ten. Ten times dead was very dead indeed. The slaves chained to their oars were praying. He was tempted to join them. 

The Gunslinger

Title: The Gunslinger
Author: Stephen King
Published: 1982, revised version from 2003
Genre: Fantasy and Western
Pages: 224



Oops. I've been so busy reading lately that I haven't had time to update!


Sooo yes. I took my first step towards the Dark Tower after reading several times how good the series is. I haven't read King since I was in my very early teens (The Eyes of the Dragon was my favourite, and I just found it from a used book store! Yay!) and the first original Gunslinger-stories are older than I am, so it's about time.


The Gunslinger Roland (wrote Ginslinger accidentally: that would make for a different kind of book) is following the man in black in a world that has many similarities to ours. He knows he has to catch the man in black to reach the Dark Tower, but when Roland comes across a farmer, the man in black has passed some weeks ago already. As he spends the night in the farmer's small house, Roland tells him -and the readers- the story of a town called Tull, which he passed some time before the book started. It gives insight to the world, his past, and the man in black. And then it's time to continue traveling.


I was about to jump straight into the next book, but then some other books happened. It's like, the more I read, the more books I have/want to read.




   The man in Black fled across the desert, and the Gunslinger followed.

 

The Color Purple

Title: The Color Purple
Author: Alice Walker
Published: 1982
Genre: Drama and a lot of other things.
Pages: 295


When I was a kid, like, both sides of 10 years old, we had this cable movie channel, and I'd watch so many movies, including the one that was made based on this book. Some day, I'm going to have to ask my parents if they paid any attention to what we'd watch...

The Color Purple is set in the early decades of the 20th century, in the Southern United States. Young Celie is given away to marry Mr. ______ instead of her younger sister Nettie, mostly to care for Mr. ______'s children, and to work. Nettie, not wanting to live with their father -who'd already fathered two children on Celie, and given both away- runs away first to her sister, and then to find work in the town. Celie doesn't like her new husband or his children, but being uneducated, female and black, doesn't really have a lot of choice in the world. Sounds like a bad arrangement all around, but once Mr. ______'s old lover, the singer Shug Avery comes into the picture, even Celie starts to see some colour in the world.

Told in letters from Celie to God, and between the sisters Celie and Nettie, the years and pages just fly away. The world takes the sisters far away from each other, and even if they can't truly keep in touch, they're never out of each other's thoughts. Life goes on and families grow. People, too. Once again, 'I'm just going to read a few pages' turned into 'Whooops, the book is over. What now?'


   Mr. _____ say, Well Sir, I sure hope you done change your mind. 
   He say, Naw, Can't say I is.
   Mr. _____ say, Well, you know, my poor little ones sure could use a mother. 
   Well, He say, real slow, I can't let you have Nettie. She too young. Don't know nothing but what you tell her. Sides, I want her to git some more schooling. Make a schoolteacher out of her. But I can let you have Celie. She the oldest anyway. She ought to marry first. She ain't fresh tho, but I spect you know that. She spoiled. Twice. But you don't need a fresh woman no how. I got a fresh one in there myself and she sick all the time. He spit, over the railing. The children git on her nerve, she not much of a cook. And she big already.
   Mr. _____ he don't say nothing. I stop crying I'm so surprise. 
   She ugly. He say. But she ain't no stranger to hard work. And she clean. And God done fixed her. You can do everything just like you want and she ain't gonna make you feed it or clothe it. 

Turn Coat

Title: Turn Coat
Author: Jim Butcher
Published: 2009
Genre: Noir urban fantasy
Pages: 432,listened to the audio book


Hey wow, I'm finally starting to catch up to Mr Butcher! A few more years and I'll actually have to wait for the next book to come out.

The 11th Dresden Files book starts with Harry's favourite (not) Warden stumbling onto his doorstep, asking for sanctuary. Warden Morgan, a pain in Harry's ass (not like that!) for years and years has been framed for murder of a Senior wizard of the White Council. As much as Harry would like to kick the man back out and laugh as he's executed with barely a trial, he believes Morgan to be innocent, and ends up helping him. Even when it brings a nasty Skinwalker monster to his trail, and even when helping Morgan puts both him and his apprentice into serious trouble with the Council.

As always, things aren't quite that simple, and there's plenty of And Then It Got Worse. I find it's harder to concentrate on an audio book than on one that you read, so I did miss some action and details, but damn, I got a lot of walking done. James Marsters is a joy to listen, and it was nice to hear him speak with an English accent for a while, again (Spiiiiiiiiike!). As usual, I'm tempted to jump straight to the next one, but hell, I've also got a pile of other books that I want to jump into.


   There’s power in the night. There’s terror in the darkness. Despite all our accumulated history, learning, and experience, we remember. We remember times when we were too small to reach the light switch on the wall, and when the darkness itself was enough to make us cry out in fear. Get a good ways out from civilization-say, miles and miles away on a lightless lake-and the darkness is there, waiting. Twilight means more than just time to call the children in from playing outside. Fading light means more than just the end of another day. Night is when terrible things emerge from their sleep and seek soft flesh and hot blood. Night is when unseen beings with no regard for what our people have built and no place in what we have deemed the natural order look in at our world from outside, and think dark and alien thoughts. And sometimes, just sometimes, they do things. 

Quote from Wikiquote. 

Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde

Title: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde
Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
Published: Originally in 1886
Genre: Horror!
Pages: 88


The classic horror tale! First time reading it, and I haven't even seen any of the numerous movies. Or TV-series. Or parodies. Or heard the radio shows. But! I have read The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen -comics, and there met both Dr and Mr.

The main character of the story -and this came as a bit of a surprise to me- is neither, though, but the lawyer Mr Utterson, an old friend of Dr Jekyll's. On a walk with his cousin, they come across a door along a street, and the cousin is moved to tell a story of how he met an off-putting little man called Mr Hyde, whom he followed to the same door after a small accident. Later on, Utterson realises that the door is also connected to the house of Dr Jekyll, and that there is a troubling connection between Hyde and Jekyll.

Perhaps because I knew what the connection was, or because I started the short book on the same day I went back to work, holiday over, the story didn't really catch my attention. But at only 88 pages it was a quick read, and well worth it to see for myself the tale that has inspired so many people for over a century.


   Mr Utterson stepped out and touched him on the shoulder as he passed. 'Mr Hyde, I think?'
   Mr Hyde shrank back with a hissing intake of the breath. But his fear was only momentary; and though he did not look the lawyer in the face, he answered coolly enough: 'That is my name. What do you want?' 
   'I see you are going in,' returned the lawyer. 'I am an old friend of Dr Jekyll's - Mr Utterson of Gaunt Street - you must have heard my name; and meeting you so conveniently, I thought you might admit me.'
   'You will not find Dr Jekyll; he is from home.' replied Mr Hyde, blowing in the key. And then suddenly, but still without looking up, 'How did you know me?' he asked. 

 

Men at Arms

Title: Men at Arms
Author: Terry Pratchett
Published: 1993
Genre: Humour Fantasy
Pages: 381


I'm slowly working my way through the Discworld books, mostly in order (if not publication order, then in storyline publication order: Death books, Witches, City Watch etc...), because why not? Men at Arms is already the 15th book(!) and the second City Watch -book. This might be the first time I've read it, since I don't own it myself, and didn't much care for the storyline when I was younger. The witches and Rincewind and Death were more fun!

Men at Arms follows Guards! Guards!, and stars the few men of the Ankh-Morpork Night Watch. They are not so few anymore: the city higher powers have decided that Diversity is a good thing!, so the Watch is joined by a troll, a dwarf, and -gasp!- a woman. Captain Vimes is just a few days away from retirement and marrying the rich swamp dragon enthusiast Sybil Rankin. The new recruits are trouble enough -trolls and dwarfs do NOT get along- and then people start dying in strange ways, with small metal pellets in them.

So, to wrap up, a humour fantasy book with murder mysteries, racial issues, policing and commentary on gun control and the power a weapon like that has on an individual. Not bad for a fantasy book. A really funny fantasy book, too. Oh, and Death is trying to be more of a ... people person.


   Bjorn didn't waste time asking questions. A lot of things become a shade urgent when you're dead. 
   'I believe in reincarnation,' he said.
   I KNOW.
   'I tried to live a good life. Does that help?'
   THAT IS NOT UP TO ME. Death coughed. OF COURSE... SINCE YOU BELIEVE IN REINCARNATION... YOU'LL BE BJORN AGAIN.
   He waited.
   'Yes. That's right,' said Bjorn. Dwarfs are known for their sense of humour, in a way. People point them out and say: 'Those little devils haven't got a sense of humour.'

The Paying Guests

Title: The Paying Guests
Author: Sarah Waters
Published: 2014
Genre: Drama and romance
Pages: 564 (on the Kindle)


It's 1922, the War is over, and life has forever changed for so many people. Frances Wray has lost both of her brothers and father during the war, and lives with her mother in their old house. Maintaining it is getting harder and harder, so they are forced to rent out a few of their rooms. The book begins when a young couple, Lilian and Leonard Barber move in. Frances's mother is still used to the old way of life and doesn't want to socialise too much with the 'paying guests', who are, after all, from a different class. Frances herself, stuck in a life she didn't want, gets to know the Barbers better and quickly befriends Lilian. And since this is Sarah Waters, they do become more than friends. And since this is Sarah Waters, that's not all of it.

This was supposed to have been an xmas/bday-present, but mom couldn't find it anywhere, and I just now bought it for the Kindle when the price came down a little. I've been reading a lot of shorter books lately, and it was wonderful to sink into a good, long book during my first few holiday days, just to lie around and read. A holiday trip without having to get off the sofa, yay!


   'Yes, I'll sign it "To Frances, with--"' He caught himelf up. 'Whoops! Miss Wray, I suppose I should say. But that sounds so awfully old-fashioned. You don't mind me calling you Frances, do you? Now that we're all getting along so well?'
   His tone was so affable that it would have been impossible to protest or demur, but Frances felt taken by surprise - almost tripped up. She had no interest in calling him Leonard, she wouldn't have dreamt of calling him Len, and she had the sneaking suspicion that his slip of the tongue was less accidental than he was pretending. Worst of all, the moment somehow undid some of the specialness of her friendship with Lilian. Was this, she thought, whaf happened when one made friends with a married woman? One automatically got the husband too? - like a crochet pattern, coming free with a magazine?  

 

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Title: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Author: Philip K. Dick
Published: Originally in 1968
Genre: Science Fiction
Pages: 210


Summer holiday. What a wonderful reason to avoid the computer. But it's almost time to go back to work, and to return books to the library.

As y'all probably know, this is Philip K. Dick's classic science fiction novel, and it inspired Ridley Scott's film Blade Runner. (Apparently, 'Have you seen Blade Runner?' is a silly question. Because everyone has.) It has been yeeears since I saw the film, but I'm pretty sure that Harrison Ford wasn't much obsessed with his electric sheep, and getting a real animal. But, like, 20 years. I can barely remember yesterday.

The world has been damaged by the latest world war, and a lot of humanity has already migrated off the planet. A few still stay, as almost the only living things. Animals are endangered or extinct, and owning one is a huge status symbol, and a proof of one's humanity. Rick Deckard, our protagonist, only has an electric sheep. Rick is a bounty hunter, and is calculating that after he retires (=destroys) a group of 6 escaped androids, he should be able to buy a real animal. But the androids in question are very human-like, and not so easy to kill. Alongside the main plot, the book brings out a lot of questions on what a human is, and how the androids are different.

If it was explained in the book I missed (or forgot) it, but I'm unsure as to why the bounty hunters kill retire the androids that have escaped servitude in human colonies in favour to living on Earth. If they want to move to a barren, dying place where people are getting sick with radiation, why not let them?


   After a hurried breakfast - he had lost time due to the discussion with his wife - he ascended clad for venturing out, including his Ajax model Mountibank Lead Codpiece, to the covered roof pasture whereon his electric sheep 'grazed.' Whereon it, sophisticated piece of hardware that it was, chomped away in simulated contentment, bamboozling the other tenants of the building. 
   Of course, some of their animals undoubtedly consisted of electronic circuitry fakes, too; he had of course never nosed into the matter, any more than they, his neighbors, had pried into the real workings of his sheep. Nothing could be more impolite. To say, 'Is your sheep genuine?' would be a worse breach of manners than to inquire whether a citizen's teeth, hair, or internal organs would test out authentic. 

The Passion of New Eve

Title: The Passion of New Eve
Author: Angela Carter
Published: Originally in 1977
Genre: Magic realism
Pages: 191


I don't remember what it was that first got me interested in this book, enough to buy a used copy, but damn, it has been a good long while since the last book that made me stop reading and say What the fuck? this often. (Was that sentence complicated enough?) 

Young Evelyn moves from his home in England to New York, to take up a position as an English professor. As soon as he reaches the big city, the reader and Evelyn both learn that the USA is in the grips of a war between... pretty much everyone. He has no job left, and barely dares to leave his small flat for food in the fear of being killed on the way to the corner shop. On one such brave excursion, he meets a young erotic dancer, Leilah, and abandons what's left of his little life to follow her. When things turn sour, he escapes the city for the desert, and that's when things go really weird.

I didn't know what I was getting into as I started the book, and ended up with heaps of everything. Dystopia, humour, dark satire, post-feminism, crazy cults, gender stuff... the book indeed made me go WTF plenty of times, and almost as many times I thought about not finishing it, but heck, I'm glad I did. What a wild ride.


   And she regarded me benignly but with implicit ferocity; I stammered a little but no words came for she was of Leilah's colour and I was full of shame. She shrugged her immense shoulders.
   "Well... one day, you'll discover that sexuality is a unity manifested in different structures and it's a hard thing, in these alienated times, to tell what is what and what is not. Ah, Evelyn, I've no quarrel with you just because you're a man! I think your pretty little virility is just darling, harmless as a dove, such a delight! A lovely toy for a young girl... but are you sure you get the best use of it in the shape you are?" 
   What could she mean? Her face, dark as an eclipse of the moon, is lowered over me with giantesque solitude; her hot, close breath basts me, I whimper. 

Moon over Soho, take 2

Title: Moon over Soho
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2011 by Gollancz
Genre: Urban fantasy
Pages: 373


Agaaaaaain! Aww, and now it's over. Where Rivers of London is an introduction to the series, main characters and the magical world, Moon over Soho is where the Big Bad is introduced. I really should have re-read these two before diving into 3, 4 and 5, I'd forgotten so many details! But well, everything should be clear as day when the 6th book comes out!

Musicians don't always lead the healthiest of lives, that's a fact pretty much everyone knows, right? But when jazz musicians start to keel over after gigs, with traces of music still to be heard, Peter and co realise that there's more going on than sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll jazz. There also seems to be a lot more magic in the air than there ought to be, considering Nightingale's title of Last Wizard in England.

I honestly do love these books, and not just because of London and them being of my favourite genre. They're good fun, and Moon over Soho is probably my favourite of the series. So far, anyway.


   'This man has been trained by a master,' said Nightingale. 'Have you any idea how many years it takes to practise at that level? The dedication and self-discipline he would have needed? You've just met one of the most dangerous men in the world.' He clapped me on the shoulder. 'And you're still alive. Now that's impressive.'
   For a terrifying moment I thought he was going to hug me, but fortunately we both remembered we were English just in time. Still, it was a close call. 

Olemisen sietämätön keveys

Nimi: Olemisen sietämätön keveys
Alkuperäinen nimi: Nesnesitelná lehkost bytí
Kirjoittaja: Milan Kundera
Julkaistu: 1984 ranskaksi, 1985 tshekiksi, tämä painos suomeksi 2010
Genre: Filosofinen fiktio, sanoo netti
Sivuluku: 390


Luulin että olisin lisännyt tämän Listalleni luettavista kirjoista, mutta en näköjään. Tarkoitus oli, varsinkin kun tajusin että Olemisen sietämätön keveys sijoittuu pitkälti yhteen lempikaupungeistani, Prahaan. Tarina alkaa Prahan kevään aikoihin, eli siis 1968, vaikka pääsemmekin sivumäärän kasvaessa tutustumaan hyvin kaikkien päähenkilöiden menneisyyteen ja korvien väliin. Vaikea poliittinen tilanne ajaa monia ihmisiä pois maasta, eikä elo ole enää samanlaista kotiin jääneille tai sinne palaaville. 

Päähenkilöitä ovat kirurgi Tomáš; hänen nuori vaimonsa, valokuvaaja Tereza; taidemaalari Sabina, joka on yksi Tomášin rakastajattarista sekä hänen ystävänsä; ja Franz, Sabinaan rakastunut sveitsiläinen professori. Tomášilla on useita rakastajattaria joita hän tapailee vaimosta huolimatta.Tereza ei ole asiasta ymmärrettävästi kovin innostunut, mutta on uskollinen rakastamalleen miehelle.

Kirja alkaa kevyesti Nietzchellä ja ajatuksia herättäviä filosofisia pointteja riittää, mutta Olemisen sietämätön keveys ei silti aiheuta päänsärkyä tai (kovin paljon) maailmantuskaa. Se on syvällinen rakkaustarina, kaunis kirja vahvoilla päähenkilöillä. Semmoista sorttia joka jää päähän pyörimään...


   Hän vihoitteli itselleen kunnes hänen mieleensä tuli, että oli oikeastaan täysin luonnollista ettei hän tiennyt, mitä halusi:
   Ihminen ei voi koskaan tietää, mitä hänen tulee haluta, sillä eläessään vain yhden elämän hän ei voi verrata sitä edellisiin tai korjailla sitä seuraavissa.
   Onko parempi elää Terezan kanssa vai jäädä yksin?
   Ei ole mitään mahdollisuutta tarkistaa, kumpi ratkaisu on parempi, sillä ei ole myöskään vertauskohdetta. Ihminen elää kaiken heti ensi kerralla ja valmistautumatta. Ikään kuin näyttelijä joka esiintyy harjoittelematta osaansa. Mutta minkä arvoista elämä voi olla, jos sen ensi harjoitus on elämä itse? Siksi se muistuttaa aina luonnosta. Ilmaus ei kuitenkaan ole täsmällinen, sillä luonnos on aina jonkin hahmotelma, maalauksen esiaste, mutta meidän elämämme luonnos ei ole minkään hahmotelma, siitä ei synny minkäänlaista maalausta.
   Einmal ist keinmal, Tomás toisteli mielessään saksalaista sananlaskua. Jos ihminen saa elää vain yhden elämän, hän ei tavallaan elä lainkaan. 

Rivers of London, take 2

Title: Rivers of London
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2011 by Gollanz
Genre: Urban fantasy
Pages: 390



Yeaaaah... again! I'd wanted to re-read books 1 and 2 even before I picked up 3 (and promptly 4 and 5) a month ago, but, better late than never. Turns out, Rivers of London (and Moon over Soho, being 100+ pages into that one already) is just as good on the second time around as on the first. Not in the least because I now have a firmer grasp on who's who. So many names!


The most important name to remember is Peter Grant, our main character and wise-cracking narrator. A probational constable almost done cooking, he's whisked away from the prospect of a dull desk-job as he happens to chat with a ghost one early January morning. The ghost is the sole witness to a strange murder, but who's going to take the word of a ghost seriously? Perhaps the last wizard in England, Inspector Nightingale, who snatches Peter up to become his apprentice.

Rivers of London is full of action, humour and characters that I've come to care for. What else could you ask of a good book? Well, sequels. Plllenty of sequels.


   The white boy with dreads leaned towards me and with great deliberation poked me in the face with his index finger. 'Poke,' he said, and giggled. Then he did it again.
   There's a point where a human being will lose it, just lash out at everything around them. Some people spend their lives on the edge of that - most of them end up doing time in prison. Some, a lot of them women, get ground down to that point over years, until one day it's hello, burning bed and a legal defence of extreme provocation. 
   I was at that point, and I could feel the righteous anger. How wonderful it would be just to fuck the consequences and let rip. Because sometimes you just want the fucking universe to take some notice - is that too fucking much to ask for? 
   Then I realised that was what it was all about.


So, uhh, looks like I've read more books in 2015 than I did in 2014! And it's only the beginning of July! In fact, I've read more books already this year than any year of blog-keeping. Yay! Here's to almost 50 more cracking open a new one's for 2015!

Kukkulan kuningas

Nimi: Kukkulan kuningas
Alkuperäinen nimi: Hodejegerne
Kirjoittaja: Jo Nesbø
Julkaistu: Alunperin 2008, suomeksi 2009 
Genre: Trilleri
Sivuluku: 243


Nowkku tätä jonkun aikaa sitten suositteli kovin Fargomaisena, ja Kukkulan kuningas tarttui sitten eräällä kirjastoreissulla matkaan. Alkuun en ehtinyt/jaksanut kovasti keskittyä kirjaan koska tuli kaikkea yhtäkkiä yllättävää -kuten syliin suunnilleen tipahtanut lemmikkikäärme- mutta kun kirja pääsi vauhtiin ja keskittymiskyky palasi lähes entiselleen, niin eihän tätä taas malttanut päästää käsistään.

Oslolainen Roger Brown on kukkulan kuningas, headhuntereiden kuninkaallinen jonka suosittelema ehdokas aina päätyy huippufirman johtoon. Hänellä on kaunis vaimo joka pyörittää kallista taidegalleriaa, arvokas omakotitalo, ja huutava pula rahasta. Kallista elämää rahoittaakseen Rogerilla on salainen kakkostyö: hän varastaa taideteoksia korvaamalla ne jäljennöksillä, ja myy aidot eteenpäin kovalla voitolla.

Roger voi tuskin uskoa onneaan kun hänen syliinsä tipahtaa täydellinen ehdokas GPS-yrityksen johtajaksi, puoliksi hollantilainen Clas Greve, joka on juuri löytänyt mummonsa salakätköstä toisen maailmansodan aikana kadonneen Rubensin taulun. Jackpot molemmille urille, ja keino päästä veloista eroon, eikö? Niinhän sitä voisi luulla.

Fargo -niin leffa kuin sarja- tuli tosiaan ilahduttavasti mieleen kirjaa lukiessa, ja hupia sekä jännitystä riitti ihan loppuun asti. Ulkohuussikohtauksesta näen kyllä vielä painajaisia. Pitänee kokeilla muitakin herra Nesbøn kirjoja (olen aina luullut häntä naiseksi... live and learn).


   "Odotan innolla tulevaa keskusteluamme, Roger, mutta nyt lähden kotiin ja valmistaudun läksyttämään puuseppiä puolan kielellä. Sano terveisiä hurmaavalle vaimollesi." Greve kumarsi jäykästi, lähes sotilaallisesti, kääntyi kannoillaan ja lähti astelemaan ovelle päin. 
   Diana tuli vierelleni, kun seisoin katsomassa miehen perään. "Miten teillä meni, kulta?"
   "Mahtava yksilö. Katso tuota kävelytyyliä. Ihan kuin kissapeto. Hän on täydellinen."
   "Tarkoitatko että..."
   "Hän osasi jopa teeskennellä, ettei hän ole lainkaan kiinnostunut paikasta. Herrajumala, tuon pään minä haluan seinällleni täytettynä ja torahampaat irvessä."

The Outsiders

Title: The Outsiders
Author: S. E. Hinton
Published: Originally 1967, this was the Kindle version
Genre: Young adult
Pages: 192


Like so many teenagers ever since The Outsiders first came out, I loved this book some 20 years ago. Well, maybe not quite 20 years, but almost. Yikes. I was a big reader then, too, and I'd read everything else by Hinton that I could get my hands on. Around last christmas they showed Rumble Fish on TV, and The Outsiders a little later. Watched both, and got the urge to re-read some books.

Ponyboy Curtis is 14, orphaned with two older brothers, and a Greaser. Greasers are generally considered to be youth delinquents, dropouts, poor and dangerous, whereas the Socs (socials) are the rich kids with fancy cars and bright futures. The two groups fight constantly, and no-one is safe. One night, Ponyboy and his friend, a fellow Greaser called Johnny (I love how even the toughest ones call him Johnnycake), are walking home from a movie when they get jumped by a group of Socs', and things go too far.

S.E. Hinton wrote The Outsiders when she was 15 and 16, and it became a classic that's still going strong over 40 years later. And it was a good read as an adult, too.


   Sixteen years on the streets and you can learn a lot. But all the wrong things, not the things you want to learn. Sixteen years on the streets and you see a lot. But all the wrong sights, not the sights you want to see.

Death of the Little Match Girl

Title: Death of the Little Match Girl
Original title: Smrt djevojčice sa žigicama
Author: Zoran Ferić
Published: 2002
Genre: Murder mystery
Pages: 193


Like I mentioned, the SO and I visited Dubrovnik, Croatia a little while ago. Damn, it was warm. Hot, even. Anyway, during our travels, the SO has more or less transferred unto me her habit of buying a local book. There weren't many translated options in the book store, but as soon as I read the comparison of Mr. Ferić to Monty Python on the cover, it was obvious which one I would buy. The author's own comparison to Twin Peaks on the back sealed the deal.

Pathologist Fero returns to his home island on northern Croatia's shore to attend the funeral of his old friend's small daughter. What a cheery opening for a book, the funeral of a six-year old. While there, another old friend, now the local police, asks for his opinion on the body of the island's only prostitute, the Little Match Girl. The gaping hole on her neck suggests it wasn't a very natural death. The island isn't large so there is only a limited number of suspects, even adding the tourists, and they all seem to be equally odd.

In addition to the strangeness and absurdity of Monty Python and Twin Peaks, Death of the Little Match Girl also reminded me of Trainspotting. Only with less drugs and more dead transvestites. There were bits when I was completely lost and wondered whether I should leave the book unfinished and jump straight into Foxglove Summer, but with less than 200 pages, I wasn't going to give up. That was the right decision: the ending tied the whole thing together, and was fucking unexpected. I want to re-read the whole thing soon-ish, just to appreciate the whole ride.


   Then Mungos said, "Bring her in now! For Fero to see!"
   The policeman disappeared into one of the dark rooms. When he came back he was pushing a gurney with a body covered with a white sheet in front of him. There was blood on the fabric around the head in irregular stains that reminded me of modern art. At that moment the policeman's Motorola creckled and his hand went to his waist. Somebody needed to talk to Mungos, and they retreated into the next room. The conversation was obviously confidential and about the corpse on the gurney. I watched the gurney and the dead body on it in the semi-darkness, aware that it would need to be pushed right under the lamp for me to really see anything. 
   But then the thing on the stretcher moved. I saw the sheet rising around the stomach and then slowly lower. I had a very bad feeling about this. I was used to dead bodies from my job, but I wasn't too pleased about corpses that moved.
   "Your body's moving," I muttered when the policeman and Mungos came back. Something in my throat prevented me from saying it more distinctly.
   "Eh! Bullshit," said Mungos, writing down something he had evidently been told over the radio. "You'd better take a look."

Foxglove Summer

Title: Foxglove Summer
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2015
Genre: Urban Rural fantasy
Pages: 333


And straight to the fifth (there was a book I read between 4 and 5, pretending for a few minutes that I wasn't going to jump straight into this one as soon as that was done. I didn't believe me either.)! In which Peter takes a trip from London to Herefordshire, to see its little villages, sprawling rivers and retired wizards.

Two young girls have gone missing, and since there indeed is a retired wizard in the area, Peter needs to make sure that he isn't somehow involved. Just pure routine. Back in London by supper. But suspicious things start to pop up, and Peter finds himself involved deeper and deeper in the disappearance, doing all he can to find the girls. Luckily the area is full of interesting people, both human and not-quite-so. And beeeeees! Quite unusual bees, actually.

Even though there's about as much action as in the previous ones, Foxglove Summer feels a bit like a break, a calm before the storm of what's to come with the Big Bad Guy. I don't mind, it was perfect for the end of my summer holiday, and left me eagerly awaiting the next one. Speaking of, good news! The next one is coming out in November! Wohoo!


   ...   The Police never saw a noun they didn't want to turn into a verb, so it quickly became 'to action', as in you action me to undertake a Falcon assessment, I action a Falcon assessment, a Falcon assessment has been actioned and we all action in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine.

... a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine.

Broken Homes

Title: Broken Homes
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2014
Genre: Urban fantasy
Pages: 369


It's already the fourth book in the so far five-part series! And I just jumped straight in after finishing #3. No thought for 'saving it till later'. Oh dear. And it's a quiet day at the office, and I'm abusing that fact by getting some writing done here. That still makes me a productive member of the workplace, right? At least I look busy.

This one's a little different from the previous books: instead of one big magical case to hit his head against until something breaks, Peter is saddled with several smaller ones that may or may not be magical. An unidentifiable female body is found in a shallow grave in the woods. A man with no reason to kill himself jumps in front of a Tube train. An old but important book of magic pops up from a shady seller. Little by little, everything starts to connect up, and all the leads point to the south of the River Thames, and towards the Big Bad Guy.

There are so many returning and new characters in these books that I sometimes have trouble keeping up with all of them with my flaky head, but that's just about my only complaint, and I can easily check up who's who on the internet. The books are just pure fun, Peter is a brilliant narrator, and the action never stops for long. Not until there comes... that bit... and it leaves you screaming in disbelief with your cup of coffee and tomato sandwich and you have to take deep breaths before screaming some more.

NEXT!


   I felt weirdly panicky all the way back across the river, and through the vile traffic around Elephant and Castle. But I couldn't work out why.
   'Somebody tried to kill us a couple of days ago,' said Lesley when I mentioned it. 'I'm amazed we're not on psychiatric medical leave.'
   'That which does not kill us,' I said, 'has to get up extra early in the morning if it wants to get us next time.' 

Whispers Under Ground

Title: Whispers Under Ground
Author: Ben Aaronovitch
Published: 2012
Genre: Urban fantasy
Pages: 322


I bought Whispers Under Ground for the Kindle almost as soon as I finished the previous book (Moon Over Soho), but didn't get to reading it until summer holidays hit again. These are great quick and fun reads, just the thing to enjoy on a holiday, and if I haven't mentioned it a hundred times before, I love London. The SO and I went on a trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia, and after I finished Sourcery on the first or second night there, this was next.

And even though Dubrovnik is a beautiful place with turquoise water all around, the Old town and cheap beer, Whispers Under Ground didn't take long to finish. And I kind of went and got the next one and started that, too... I keep confusing what happened in which as I write this. Right! This is the one that started with the body at Baker Street Tube Station, with chapter names after the Tube stations. Young American art student James Gallagher has been stabbed to death with what appears to be... magical pottery. Peter is called to help with the investigation, while trying to keep any and all magical bits a secret from the FBI agent sent to help as well.

Both Christmas and James' senator father are coming as Peter follows the leads, as you can guess from the title, under the ground. You have to read the book yourself to find out what's hidden under the streets. Go on, these books are wonderful!


   The Metropolitan Police has a very straightforward approach to murder investigations. Not for them the detective's gut instinct or the intricate logical deductions of the sleuth savant. No, what the Met likes to do is throw a shitload of manpower at the problem and run down every single possible lead until it is exhausted, the murderer is caught, or the senior investigating officer dies of old age. As a result, murder investigations are conducted not by quirky Detective Inspectors with drink/relationship/mental problems but a bunch of frighteningly ambitious Detective Constables in the first mad flush of their careers. So you can see I fit in very well.