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truepennyUBC #11
Queen, Ellery. The House of Brass. New York: Signet-New American Library, 1969.
One of the very few EQ books (along with the Wrightsville books) that has sustained continuity with any other EQ books. Also one of the two, along with Inspector Queen's Own Case, that barely features Ellery at all; he pops out of the woodwork in the last chapter to play Grand Panjandrum and solve everything. Otherwise, it's all Richard Queen (whom I like possibly better than the character-as-written deserves, because my first exposure to Ellery Queen was the tv show, and David Wayne* charmed my socks off).
The House of Brass is an English country house mystery set in Phillipskill, New York, which is a clever trick. It goes more than a little overboard with the EQ conceit of successive solutions: detective propounds a solution which fits the facts as he knows them, someone throws a new fact at him which monkey-wrenches the whole thing, lather, rinse, repeat. You can go through three or four different murderers that way.
I enjoyed it, although unless you're also a fan of Ellery Queen, I don't think I'd recommend seeking it out.
---
*OMG he was in Tubby the Tuba, of which I had a record when I was a kid that I listened to over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. ::dies of fangirl squee::
UBC critical failure: abort | retry | take to used bookstore
Black, Cara. Murder in the Marais. New York: Soho Press, 1999.
Soho Press's crime imprint specializes (or did, since their website suggests they're moving away from this narrow rubric) in mysteries in translation and imports from Anglophone countries other than the UK, and their book designs are things of beauty. This book ... well, I made it as far as page 26.
And I can tell you what threw me. (Leaving entirely aside the bizarreries of the plot and the clumsy world-building.) Two passages. First, on page 17, our heroine is asked to empty her purse:
Okay, the femmes among you may correct me if I'm wrong, but in my experience, it's really hard to smudge something with nail polish. You can spill nail polish on things--which is going to result in an unholy mess, not smudges--or you can brush up against things while it's drying, which results in having to redo your manicure. And that might result in smudges on a software manual, but frankly any woman who would wear red nail polish on a regular basis is not going to be stupid enough to try to read a software manual while her nails are drying. It's not like lipstick. It doesn't just rub off onto other things.
Second passage, pages 25-26 (otherwise known as the final straw). The next morning, our heroine (who is not, please note, in any particular hurry) has had her morning coffee in the Café Magritte and:
I'm awestruck, too, let me tell you. First of all, last night she only had the mascara, not a "kit." If you're going to go out of your way to mention that she carries makeup with her at all time, a little continuity wouldn't hurt. Second of all, why does her "kit" not contain rouge if it contains both mascara and eyeliner? It's not like pinching her cheeks for color is going to last out the door. And thirdly, an espresso machine? WTF? No matter how shiny it is, it's not a mirror--okay, for purposes of noticing the bad guy sneaking up behind you with a cosh, yes. For purposes of putting on makeup, not so much.
Also, Zazie is a Parisienne, working in a café across from the Louvre. Makeup is not going to be an awesome and mysterious tribal ritual to her. Well, except for the part about the espresso machine.
My suspension of disbelief foundered and sank.
Queen, Ellery. The House of Brass. New York: Signet-New American Library, 1969.
One of the very few EQ books (along with the Wrightsville books) that has sustained continuity with any other EQ books. Also one of the two, along with Inspector Queen's Own Case, that barely features Ellery at all; he pops out of the woodwork in the last chapter to play Grand Panjandrum and solve everything. Otherwise, it's all Richard Queen (whom I like possibly better than the character-as-written deserves, because my first exposure to Ellery Queen was the tv show, and David Wayne* charmed my socks off).
The House of Brass is an English country house mystery set in Phillipskill, New York, which is a clever trick. It goes more than a little overboard with the EQ conceit of successive solutions: detective propounds a solution which fits the facts as he knows them, someone throws a new fact at him which monkey-wrenches the whole thing, lather, rinse, repeat. You can go through three or four different murderers that way.
I enjoyed it, although unless you're also a fan of Ellery Queen, I don't think I'd recommend seeking it out.
---
*OMG he was in Tubby the Tuba, of which I had a record when I was a kid that I listened to over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. ::dies of fangirl squee::
UBC critical failure: abort | retry | take to used bookstore
Black, Cara. Murder in the Marais. New York: Soho Press, 1999.
Soho Press's crime imprint specializes (or did, since their website suggests they're moving away from this narrow rubric) in mysteries in translation and imports from Anglophone countries other than the UK, and their book designs are things of beauty. This book ... well, I made it as far as page 26.
And I can tell you what threw me. (Leaving entirely aside the bizarreries of the plot and the clumsy world-building.) Two passages. First, on page 17, our heroine is asked to empty her purse:
She dumped her cell phone, expired Metro pass, extra moden cable, two tubes of ultrablack mascara, business cards, pack of Nicorette stop-smoking gum, mini-tool set, and a well-thumbed manual on software encryption smudged with red nail polish.
Okay, the femmes among you may correct me if I'm wrong, but in my experience, it's really hard to smudge something with nail polish. You can spill nail polish on things--which is going to result in an unholy mess, not smudges--or you can brush up against things while it's drying, which results in having to redo your manicure. And that might result in smudges on a software manual, but frankly any woman who would wear red nail polish on a regular basis is not going to be stupid enough to try to read a software manual while her nails are drying. It's not like lipstick. It doesn't just rub off onto other things.
Second passage, pages 25-26 (otherwise known as the final straw). The next morning, our heroine (who is not, please note, in any particular hurry) has had her morning coffee in the Café Magritte and:
Revived, she slipped twenty francs across the counter to Zazie, the owner's freckle-faced ten-year-old, who worked the cash register before school.
"Mind if I get ready for work?" she said, pulling out her battered makeup kit.
Four-foot-tall Zazie stared awestruck as Aimée applied red lipstick in the mirrorlike espresso machine, ran mascara through her lashes, and outlined her large eyes with kohl pencil. She smoothed her short brown spiky hair, pinched her pale cheeks for color, and winked at Zazie.
"Buy yourself a goûter after school." She wrapped Zazie's fist around her change.
I'm awestruck, too, let me tell you. First of all, last night she only had the mascara, not a "kit." If you're going to go out of your way to mention that she carries makeup with her at all time, a little continuity wouldn't hurt. Second of all, why does her "kit" not contain rouge if it contains both mascara and eyeliner? It's not like pinching her cheeks for color is going to last out the door. And thirdly, an espresso machine? WTF? No matter how shiny it is, it's not a mirror--okay, for purposes of noticing the bad guy sneaking up behind you with a cosh, yes. For purposes of putting on makeup, not so much.
Also, Zazie is a Parisienne, working in a café across from the Louvre. Makeup is not going to be an awesome and mysterious tribal ritual to her. Well, except for the part about the espresso machine.
My suspension of disbelief foundered and sank.
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Date: 2006-05-13 03:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 03:51 pm (UTC)