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People Like Us
Good food, sunshine, cheap wine, and a little slice of the French countryside to call one's who could ask for more?
Into this world steps Nicolas Keszthelyi, an unscrupulous young antiques dealer with an amoral devotion to beauty and an eye on the art collection of the local Carmelite convent. For Keszthelyi, used to the frenetic pace of London life, a trip to the French countryside to look at religious bric-a-brac seemed like such a relaxing prospect.
Seemed.
Now two people are dead, the convent has been burnt to the ground, and a priceless work of art has vanished. Nicolas Keszthelyi is fleeing from the forces of law and order, and the only way for him to escape the consequences of his actions is to tell the whole story, including the parts that the police would rather stayed hidden.
People Like Us is a story about aesthetics, unrequited love, and what to do with frozen courgettes.
Into this world steps Nicolas Keszthelyi, an unscrupulous young antiques dealer with an amoral devotion to beauty and an eye on the art collection of the local Carmelite convent. For Keszthelyi, used to the frenetic pace of London life, a trip to the French countryside to look at religious bric-a-brac seemed like such a relaxing prospect.
Seemed.
Now two people are dead, the convent has been burnt to the ground, and a priceless work of art has vanished. Nicolas Keszthelyi is fleeing from the forces of law and order, and the only way for him to escape the consequences of his actions is to tell the whole story, including the parts that the police would rather stayed hidden.
People Like Us is a story about aesthetics, unrequited love, and what to do with frozen courgettes.
220 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 22, 2012
58 people are currently reading
250 people want to read
About the author
Dang Ziciu
6 books29 followersLike my main character, I am a specialist in the art and culture of China and Japan, and spend my time between Paris and the Far East. Unlike my main character, I have never killed anyone.
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
July 28, 2014
Well now, that was a rush at the end. First, let me tell you: I’ve already bought the second book. I’m not ‘going’ to buy it, I’m not ‘looking forward’ to it. I bought it. The instant I finished People Like Us, I bought it. Why, you might ask? Sit back and let me explain.
I LOVED the writing and cynical dry humor, the aloof yet deep character of Nicolas, and the oddly alluring Estrade. There was something about the way they were written that just entranced me when reading. Here’s a few excerpts (this is told in first person from Nicolas’ perspective):
“He (Estrade) has, however, an unsettling, heavy-lidded way of smiling at you, as though he is the only one present who has seen the joke...”
“He went over backwards, and about two seconds later Estrade appeared at the door, with a heavy, nasty-looking semi-automatic pistol of his own. I suppose someone with as well developed knack for irritating people as he possesses learns caution quickly.”
“In this risky business, clearly I was going to have to be the responsible, reliable one. It is not a position to which I normally gravitate.”
I have so many other quotes I’d rather use but I fear they might be spoilers for those trying diligently to figure everything out. These little tidbits of amazing description and aloof outlooks towards things most would find appalling was oddly addicting. D.Z.C. is an amazing writer and I am captivated by his skill.
Let me just tell you, there was one part that I was dying! It involves a shotgun and a face. I seriously couldn’t stop laughing. It’s kinda sick, but I couldn’t help it. It was the way the scene was written. Hopefully, if you ever read it, you’ll not think me a horrible person for finding the scene so hilarious.
You’ll notice this book took me quite a while to read, which is out of character for me. Usually when I start a book I stick to only that book until I’m finished. If I would have stopped reading at any point up to 3/4’s completion, I would have rated this book a 4. It was the ending that shot it up to 5.
The reason I was more inclined towards 4 in the beginning was because it had a very slow start, for me, anyways. Furthermore, there were soooo many references to stuff I just didn’t get. I’m a rather sheltered girl who is unworldly, to put it mildly. So a lot of stuff hung me up. However, when I sat down with it yesterday--I was only 35% done--, I decided to forgo trying to understand every reference and just read for the story and characters. Once I did that, it went by much quicker and I sailed through the book.
The ending was a rush of events with a closure that left me grinning. As much as I love and am fascinated by Nicolas, there are things he does that I’m not supportive of, yet I couldn’t help but smile at him. Don’t go into this book expecting a perfect little hero wrapped up in a bow. There are no heroes in this book. There are life-like people doing things tons of people do, while other things are a little more fictional, or at least not as common. Also, do not expect a nail-biter of a book. This is a slower read with a lot of getting involved in the...community the book is set in. If you pay attention, it all kinda connects.
There are some grievances out there that this had loose ends. It sure did, and I didn’t mind one bit. This is told from purely a first person perspective, so what our narrator doesn’t know, we don’t. I’m fine with that. I know there is a second book and maybe we’ll get some answers. Maybe we won’t. But it wasn’t a hang up for me. I enjoyed having these tiny unknowns floating around. It just made the book that much more mysterious and further immersed me.
Overall, it was the writing and these two beautifully imperfect characters that has me picking up the second book.
I LOVED the writing and cynical dry humor, the aloof yet deep character of Nicolas, and the oddly alluring Estrade. There was something about the way they were written that just entranced me when reading. Here’s a few excerpts (this is told in first person from Nicolas’ perspective):
“He (Estrade) has, however, an unsettling, heavy-lidded way of smiling at you, as though he is the only one present who has seen the joke...”
“He went over backwards, and about two seconds later Estrade appeared at the door, with a heavy, nasty-looking semi-automatic pistol of his own. I suppose someone with as well developed knack for irritating people as he possesses learns caution quickly.”
“In this risky business, clearly I was going to have to be the responsible, reliable one. It is not a position to which I normally gravitate.”
I have so many other quotes I’d rather use but I fear they might be spoilers for those trying diligently to figure everything out. These little tidbits of amazing description and aloof outlooks towards things most would find appalling was oddly addicting. D.Z.C. is an amazing writer and I am captivated by his skill.
Let me just tell you, there was one part that I was dying! It involves a shotgun and a face. I seriously couldn’t stop laughing. It’s kinda sick, but I couldn’t help it. It was the way the scene was written. Hopefully, if you ever read it, you’ll not think me a horrible person for finding the scene so hilarious.
You’ll notice this book took me quite a while to read, which is out of character for me. Usually when I start a book I stick to only that book until I’m finished. If I would have stopped reading at any point up to 3/4’s completion, I would have rated this book a 4. It was the ending that shot it up to 5.
The reason I was more inclined towards 4 in the beginning was because it had a very slow start, for me, anyways. Furthermore, there were soooo many references to stuff I just didn’t get. I’m a rather sheltered girl who is unworldly, to put it mildly. So a lot of stuff hung me up. However, when I sat down with it yesterday--I was only 35% done--, I decided to forgo trying to understand every reference and just read for the story and characters. Once I did that, it went by much quicker and I sailed through the book.
The ending was a rush of events with a closure that left me grinning. As much as I love and am fascinated by Nicolas, there are things he does that I’m not supportive of, yet I couldn’t help but smile at him. Don’t go into this book expecting a perfect little hero wrapped up in a bow. There are no heroes in this book. There are life-like people doing things tons of people do, while other things are a little more fictional, or at least not as common. Also, do not expect a nail-biter of a book. This is a slower read with a lot of getting involved in the...community the book is set in. If you pay attention, it all kinda connects.
There are some grievances out there that this had loose ends. It sure did, and I didn’t mind one bit. This is told from purely a first person perspective, so what our narrator doesn’t know, we don’t. I’m fine with that. I know there is a second book and maybe we’ll get some answers. Maybe we won’t. But it wasn’t a hang up for me. I enjoyed having these tiny unknowns floating around. It just made the book that much more mysterious and further immersed me.
Overall, it was the writing and these two beautifully imperfect characters that has me picking up the second book.
July 13, 2014
This book is listed as crime fiction, but it is so much more than that. If you’re only interested in how fast a book gets you into the action, and how fast-paced the story is, then you’ll probably get little enjoyment out of it. On the other hand, if you want a richer, more satisfying reading experience, then you’ll definitely enjoy it. People Like Us could be called a character study, but it is more of a study of a number of characters.
The story is narrated by Nick Keszthelyi, as amoral and shallow a protagonist as you’ll ever find, and his nasty observations of just about everyone and everything in the village in Brittany where the story takes place run through-out this tale of his attempt to steal a priceless work of art from a local convent. As Nick is neither a very competent criminal, nor a particularly conscientious human being, his half-baked plans lead to death and destruction. His reaction to what could be horrifying for others varies from bemusement to annoyance at the inconvenience he is constantly being put through.
And, totally self-absorbed as he is, he is somehow still likable, as is his partner in crime Estrade, who may well be a heartless, serial criminal himself. Although the story revolves around the theft from the convent, much time is dedicated to Nick’s run-ins and affairs with the locals, including a large British expatriate community trying to blend in with the French countryside. In fact, the theft is often secondary to Nick’s observations of these various characters and the shops, museums and restaurants in the area. As I said, if you’re in a big hurry to get to the crime, you might not enjoy this book. If you, like me, enjoy excellent prose, clever commentary on human behaviour, a dry wit and fully-realized characters, in other words, a very good book, then you’ll enjoy this a great deal.
The story is narrated by Nick Keszthelyi, as amoral and shallow a protagonist as you’ll ever find, and his nasty observations of just about everyone and everything in the village in Brittany where the story takes place run through-out this tale of his attempt to steal a priceless work of art from a local convent. As Nick is neither a very competent criminal, nor a particularly conscientious human being, his half-baked plans lead to death and destruction. His reaction to what could be horrifying for others varies from bemusement to annoyance at the inconvenience he is constantly being put through.
And, totally self-absorbed as he is, he is somehow still likable, as is his partner in crime Estrade, who may well be a heartless, serial criminal himself. Although the story revolves around the theft from the convent, much time is dedicated to Nick’s run-ins and affairs with the locals, including a large British expatriate community trying to blend in with the French countryside. In fact, the theft is often secondary to Nick’s observations of these various characters and the shops, museums and restaurants in the area. As I said, if you’re in a big hurry to get to the crime, you might not enjoy this book. If you, like me, enjoy excellent prose, clever commentary on human behaviour, a dry wit and fully-realized characters, in other words, a very good book, then you’ll enjoy this a great deal.
March 2, 2014
If you're heartily sick of all the sappy self-help memes doing the rounds of the internet, then this book is the perfect antidote. Laced with excoriating observations about most things continental, it had me laughing out loud in numerous places.
The story, briefly, concerns a completely amoral Nicholas Keszthelyi, dodgy antiques dealer and insouciant Lothario, intent on stealing from the Carmelite Sisters, aided by his mysterious and possibly even more decadent friend Estrade.
The story is strong and entertaining, but the chief appeal lies in the way it is told. D.Z.C. has created a guiltily appealing narrator in Keszthelyi - witty , amusing, mercilessly cynical. I'd previously only read the author's collection of ghost stories, 'Bright, Still', and was expecting something in a similar vein. But 'People Like Us' is very different in tone and style. With all the asides, allusions, self-aware snobbishness and general love of language, Nabokov comes to mind.
I'll end with one of those exchanges that had me audibly chuckling.
"And are you a dog lover too?" she asked.
I smiled charmingly. "Oh, any port in a storm is my motto."
The story, briefly, concerns a completely amoral Nicholas Keszthelyi, dodgy antiques dealer and insouciant Lothario, intent on stealing from the Carmelite Sisters, aided by his mysterious and possibly even more decadent friend Estrade.
The story is strong and entertaining, but the chief appeal lies in the way it is told. D.Z.C. has created a guiltily appealing narrator in Keszthelyi - witty , amusing, mercilessly cynical. I'd previously only read the author's collection of ghost stories, 'Bright, Still', and was expecting something in a similar vein. But 'People Like Us' is very different in tone and style. With all the asides, allusions, self-aware snobbishness and general love of language, Nabokov comes to mind.
I'll end with one of those exchanges that had me audibly chuckling.
"And are you a dog lover too?" she asked.
I smiled charmingly. "Oh, any port in a storm is my motto."
August 18, 2016
Strange. Quirky. Lecherous. Unusual. Odd even. These are all ways I’d describe the storyline and the writing. But above all…it’s compelling and a genuine page-turner!
The writing oozes quality, freshness and humor. Especially humor. Nice little touches that ease the tension.
PEOPLE LIKE US is totally unique – like nothing I’ve personally read before. Helped no doubt by the first person approach, it feels like the writer is sitting right next to you, relating the story by way of a live chat over a cuppa.
Speaking of cuppas, if you like your murder mysteries served with an intriguing and entertaining dash of cynicism, this book’s for you!
The writing oozes quality, freshness and humor. Especially humor. Nice little touches that ease the tension.
PEOPLE LIKE US is totally unique – like nothing I’ve personally read before. Helped no doubt by the first person approach, it feels like the writer is sitting right next to you, relating the story by way of a live chat over a cuppa.
Speaking of cuppas, if you like your murder mysteries served with an intriguing and entertaining dash of cynicism, this book’s for you!
July 20, 2014
People Like Us by Deng Zichao is a refreshingly exhilarating tour de force that is highly reminiscent of post-WWII literature celebrating the French joie de vivre. You can see how contagious this is: two French colloquialisms in one sentence. The novella conjures up images of Henry Miller and Franz Kafka as we follow the unsavory Nicolas Kesthelyi through a police gauntlet as he finds himself suspected of the murder of Mike Freeman. Nicolas is an antique dealer whose partner in crime, Estrade, has improved his own station in life from a London crook to a Breton landowner. Together they plan to rob a convent for a priceless masterpiece, yet their greed causes them to go out once too often with tragic consequences. Inspector Daphne Chantelouve is hot on their trail, and we follow Nicolas through the country homes of Northern France as they try to double-talk their way out of the clutches of justice.
The European ambiance is what makes this novella work, despite the fact it is written in the form of a memoir from Nicolas to Daphne. Yet even that technique reminds us of postmodernist literature as Nicolas confesses his crimes and flaunts his superiority in a first-person narrative. Estrade’s skills as a gourmandizer and host enhances the atmosphere as Nicolas contrives alibi after alibi, throwing his closest friends and police officials off-track with glib aplomb. Only the emergence of Alexis Anguillara, a Barcelonian ad executive who resembles Estrade, gives Nicolas a novel means of escape. Nicolas sets out to prove his partner (and himself by association) innocent in a lest-ditch effort to throw Daphne off the trail. Will this scheme help Nicolas elude justice and outwit the tenacious Inspector?
Pick up a copy of People Like Us by Deng Zichao. You will greatly enjoy the journey.
The European ambiance is what makes this novella work, despite the fact it is written in the form of a memoir from Nicolas to Daphne. Yet even that technique reminds us of postmodernist literature as Nicolas confesses his crimes and flaunts his superiority in a first-person narrative. Estrade’s skills as a gourmandizer and host enhances the atmosphere as Nicolas contrives alibi after alibi, throwing his closest friends and police officials off-track with glib aplomb. Only the emergence of Alexis Anguillara, a Barcelonian ad executive who resembles Estrade, gives Nicolas a novel means of escape. Nicolas sets out to prove his partner (and himself by association) innocent in a lest-ditch effort to throw Daphne off the trail. Will this scheme help Nicolas elude justice and outwit the tenacious Inspector?
Pick up a copy of People Like Us by Deng Zichao. You will greatly enjoy the journey.
January 2, 2014
A juicy must read!
This book made me think of good wine – you drink it slowly, enjoying every drop.
If I had to pick up just one word to qualify it, I would say “unexpected”. In the most positive sense of this word.
The author’s writing style is excellent; the tension builds exactly as needed to hold the reader captivated and unable to put the book down until the very last word. The plot is intriguing, and well-placed quotations and literary references pleasantly challenge the reader intellectually: not only they allow those who don’t understand them to follow the story normally, but also make learn and discover something new.
Most of all, I loved the tone. I think it is sublime with great dialogues and hilarious comments from the main character.
Actually, the latter is not the positive hero with high moral standards one could preach as an example to follow, but it makes it all the more fascinating to see the story from his point of view. Besides, if you believe that books are here not only to entertain, but also to teach us something, this one provides great lessons in communication, moral and overall wisdom.
The title is ingenious and perfect for this book (from some other reviews I can see that some people didn’t get it, but I won’t be the one to reveal the secret; a piece of advice though – think it over several times, word after word… ;-) ).
As for the ending, it is also perfect. A friend once told me an ancient piece of wisdom that sounded more or less like that: ‘If you want people to talk of your building for centuries, leave one corner unfinished”… Great job!
No matter what is your favorite genre, read this book, it’s sooo worth it!
This book made me think of good wine – you drink it slowly, enjoying every drop.
If I had to pick up just one word to qualify it, I would say “unexpected”. In the most positive sense of this word.
The author’s writing style is excellent; the tension builds exactly as needed to hold the reader captivated and unable to put the book down until the very last word. The plot is intriguing, and well-placed quotations and literary references pleasantly challenge the reader intellectually: not only they allow those who don’t understand them to follow the story normally, but also make learn and discover something new.
Most of all, I loved the tone. I think it is sublime with great dialogues and hilarious comments from the main character.
Actually, the latter is not the positive hero with high moral standards one could preach as an example to follow, but it makes it all the more fascinating to see the story from his point of view. Besides, if you believe that books are here not only to entertain, but also to teach us something, this one provides great lessons in communication, moral and overall wisdom.
The title is ingenious and perfect for this book (from some other reviews I can see that some people didn’t get it, but I won’t be the one to reveal the secret; a piece of advice though – think it over several times, word after word… ;-) ).
As for the ending, it is also perfect. A friend once told me an ancient piece of wisdom that sounded more or less like that: ‘If you want people to talk of your building for centuries, leave one corner unfinished”… Great job!
No matter what is your favorite genre, read this book, it’s sooo worth it!
May 8, 2014
Spoiler-free
I read the second book in this "series" first (Xanadu, btw, you don't need to read them in order) and I liked it very much. So I knew what to expect from the main character (and narrator), Nicolas Keszthelyi. The book is a dictation or lengthy account of a series of events being written shortly after the fact by him. And as such, I can forgive a few loose ends or implausible scenes. In the end, I laughed at the funny parts (lots of them, it turns out) and thoroughly enjoyed the story.
Here's the thing. The main character is a rogue, an anti-hero. He's a cynic with a superiority complex and a condescending voice. And whether or not you like the character, how you react to his actions is kind of the meta question for the read.
The author brings you right up to the edge and then, ultimately, lays the decision at your feet. Either you find him sympathetic or you don't. Either you like him or you don't. Either you believe his story...
And as for the book itself, I loved the unapologetic writing. Nicolas addresses the reader of the account throughout. At one point, while describing a long (tedious?) conversation/evening he breaks to say to the reader something to the effect of: "Oh, is this boring you?" The effect works well and did nothing to pull me out of the enjoyment of the story.
Rumor has it that a third book is in the works. You can bet I'll read that one too.
I read the second book in this "series" first (Xanadu, btw, you don't need to read them in order) and I liked it very much. So I knew what to expect from the main character (and narrator), Nicolas Keszthelyi. The book is a dictation or lengthy account of a series of events being written shortly after the fact by him. And as such, I can forgive a few loose ends or implausible scenes. In the end, I laughed at the funny parts (lots of them, it turns out) and thoroughly enjoyed the story.
Here's the thing. The main character is a rogue, an anti-hero. He's a cynic with a superiority complex and a condescending voice. And whether or not you like the character, how you react to his actions is kind of the meta question for the read.
The author brings you right up to the edge and then, ultimately, lays the decision at your feet. Either you find him sympathetic or you don't. Either you like him or you don't. Either you believe his story...
And as for the book itself, I loved the unapologetic writing. Nicolas addresses the reader of the account throughout. At one point, while describing a long (tedious?) conversation/evening he breaks to say to the reader something to the effect of: "Oh, is this boring you?" The effect works well and did nothing to pull me out of the enjoyment of the story.
Rumor has it that a third book is in the works. You can bet I'll read that one too.
September 26, 2013
This is a work of exceptional literary quality, masquerading as a tale of murder, theft, and arson. Set in Brittany, Nicholas Keszthelyi begins, innocently enough, with the antiques of the Carmelite sisters and ends up in the hands of the chief inspector of police, up to his chin in many crimes. The atmosphere is decadent and delicious, with appearances from Baudelaire, Swinburne, Huysmans, Andrea del Sarto, Petronius, and even King Arthur. I loved the rapid fire, and often kinky, dialogue. The book is witty and wonderful, including especially the final proclamation of Keszthelyi and his escape to * * * who can tell where? Nabakov would cheer. This should be a best seller and I give it five stars.
March 13, 2014
On the surface,
People Like Us
is a simple tale of larceny and lechery. Of a heist, and a come-hither. On the surface.
D.Z.C.’s style lies somewhere between that of Henry Fielding (for ingenuous roguery and gallant knavishness — oxymorons intended) and Arthur Conan Doyle (for ‘whodunit’ narrative); and again between that of P. G. Wodehouse (for wit), and Oscar Wilde (for punch). “Electric” comes to mind as a possible descriptor — but so do many other adjectives, all of them glowing at 1,000 watts.
To cite just a few examples (and there are hundreds of these bons mots, let’s examine the following sentence from the chapter titled “Tuesday 8th November”:
“(t)he problem is that when you hear the words ‘Brittany’ and ‘art’ in close proximity, you immediately think of Gauguin and his horrible, bilious mustard obsession, or endless rebarbative pencil sketches of lumpen girls in coiffes.”
(Ironic, isn’t it, that while Microsoft’s McWord program doesn’t recognize the perfectly English and energetic “rebarbative,” to say nothing of either ‘lumpen’ or ‘coiffes,’ D.Z.C. does — and uses it to great effect.)
And then, much later in the story, we have this one:
“Normally I’m all in favour of (formality) — I love the formal vous and wish that we had an equivalent in English. It can be mind-blowingly sexy, when used right — a vous appropriately applied can turn my insides to water. (I believe that I’m not alone. Apparently there also exists a subset of weirdoes who make a fetish out of Japanese keigo, or formal language, of which there is naturally an abundance. Personally, I just wouldn’t be able to suspend disbelief. It sounds slightly artificial even when it’s coming from Japan Airlines stewardesses, so God only knows how uncomfortably it must sit on the tongue of a sys-admin from Milton Keynes in a leather waistcoat. Blech.)”
And nearing five-eighths of the story (after we’ve become all too well-acquainted with Louise), we find:
“‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ she snapped, rather too loudly. I sighed. Clearly some back-peddling would be necessary. Dealing with people is such a bore.
“… It was just possible that she would be too stupid to see the natural consequences of this. Naturally, I would have preferred to not come to such a point, but she really was an unwarranted danger: friction and fog, to put it in Clausewitzian terms.”
And finally, as we approach the end-zone of the novel, we find this:
“The Christmas fair was being held in some cramped little prefabs owned by the municipality. From a distance(,) it looked warm and cozy. Close up(,) they were icy cold, despite being full of steam. Everyone kept their coats on (—) and fat, down-stuffed jackets left trails in the condensation on the windows(,) and knocked trinkets off tables. It reminded me of school, somehow. The sellers were precisely what you’d expect(:) the kind of people who believe that their neighbors will be willing to pay six euros for indifferent seed cake just because someone went to the trouble of home-making it.”
As I’ve indicated with the above parentheses, I don’t always agree with D.Z.C.’ punctuation. But ‘to each his own’ — and faulty punctuation, I feel, is a small price to pay for otherwise stellar prose.
In further praise of D.Z.C., I’ll also say that (s)he has this too-delicious little habit — akin to an ‘aside’ in theater talk — of exiting his/her narrative from time to opportune time in order to address or harangue the reader with an instance of self-doubt. I haven’t read this kind of thing since O. Henry — who did it equally as effectively, I might add — and rather than find it distracting, I found it in each case full of piss and vinegar. But a writer has to be extremely self-confident in order to pull this off. And most of us, I’ll venture to say, just don’t feel that degree of confidence.
All of the above notwithstanding — and as one who is not so well-versed in British, French, Japanese, etc., culture as he perhaps should be — I feel I should insert a word of caution: D.Z.C. is. Consequently, you may find yourself as beached a whale as I did when I read, for example, a reference to “…the dulcet tones of Melanie Phillips (of) The Moral Maze (fame)” during a moment of, um, love-making — and subsequently went looking via YouTube.com for what I believed would be an unknown (to me, at least) new balladeer, only to find a BBC Radio talk show featuring “the dulcet tones” of a modern-day harpy. If it’s not already clear from these brief examples, D.Z.C. wields irony like a switchblade.
D.Z.C. addresses his/her story to what I’d believed was an anonymous ‘you’ — had believed, that is, until I got a little over one-third of the way into the novel (location 1296 on my Kindle) and discovered that no, ‘you’ was not at all anonymous, but was in fact a policewoman (albeit, only later identified as such — and still later as Inspector Chantelouve — and still later as Daphne Chantelouve of Scotland Yard, but of French (paternal) lineage; D.Z.C. is obviously not a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am kinda writer when it comes to introducing his/her female protagonist).
Many less gifted writers have some difficulty keeping their characters distinct in a reader’s mind. D.Z.C. does not. A little past the point at which we’re first (and only furtively) introduced to the mysterious “you,” our male protagonist in this story — while house-hunting for a temporary place to warm his heels while he works out his crimes (past, present and future)—meets “a slightly-past-middle-aged English woman” who has just such a place for rent. In a paragraph that seems to run the length of a Bible, this woman comes alive to us as if she were actually standing in the same room. The monologue is (at least to this reader) in a word, heroic in its (D.Z.C.’s) execution!
And what of the ‘rationalist philosopher’ D.Z.C.? I’ll give you this nugget and let you decide for yourself how stern is his/her stuff:
“I would deviate slightly from Buddhist teachings and suggest that the root cause of suffering is not desire but the failure to appreciate what one has for what it is. Though to a certain extent they’re merely different ways of saying the same thing, my version allows that it is perfectly possible to enjoy desire in itself; unfulfilled passion can be a joy and an end in itself, as long as one is willing to accept it and appreciate it without hoping for more. It is, at any rate, free of all the banalities and disappointments attendant on any real intrigue. It all comes down to this: I would have wanted you less had I not known you to be completely beyond my reach.” Ta-dah!
And of D.Z.C. the aficionado of carnality — if not the unabashed carnivore?
“Apparently filled with impetuousness and uncontrollable passion(,) I took Louise roughly in the toilets. God, what hell it must be to make a living as a professional escort.”
(Note D.Z.C.’s omission of an exclamation point at the conclusion of the second sentence. Vintage D.Z.C. and penned, no doubt, with a raised eyebrow — one part, self-mock; one part, self-salute; just a dash of bitters — which most of his characters are apt to wear on one occasion or another.)
One additional word of criticism of D.Z.C.’s work, if I may be allowed…. While D.Z.C. (thankfully!) has no problem with pronominal reference — something that, in my reading experience, seems to have reached a state of pandemic proportions — (s)he’s too often remiss in the matter of dialogue tags. I found myself having to read sections over and over again in order to figure out who was the owner of a particular snippet of dialogue. While I could attribute this to my own poor powers of concentration, D.Z.C. would do well to remember that most people don’t read stories by candlelight in soundproof isolation cells. Print on the page has to contend (and compete) with myriad distractions and disturbances, many of which occur in a reader’s head.
What I will give D.Z.C. kudos for, however, is that (s)he accomplishes something all good writers must: (s)he re-introduces the reader to a number of words that have since gone to the dogs. I’ve always believed that writers are ‘the guardians of the language’ — and D.Z.C. can wear that distinction with pride. We’re not talking polysyllabic, Latinate vocabulary, but rather good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon (or at least Germanic) roots — all of which are firmly grounded.
You might also want to keep a dictionary (or Google) close at hand to check out the English-language meanings of many of the characters’ names. You won’t be disappointed for your efforts.
Oh, and from the chapter “Friday 18th November” (Location 3383 in my Kindle): “Did you know that ‘circumstantial evidence’ is an anagram of ‘can ruin a selected victim?’” I checked. It’s true. (S)he really worked it out. D.Z.C., you rascal you!
One last pair of questions — which I’ll paraphrase from two of D.Z.C.’s final questions in People Like Us before you run off to buy yourself a copy: “What? Did you expect (it) to have a happy ending? Surely you know that real life doesn’t work that way?”
RRB
03/13/14
Brooklyn, NY
D.Z.C.’s style lies somewhere between that of Henry Fielding (for ingenuous roguery and gallant knavishness — oxymorons intended) and Arthur Conan Doyle (for ‘whodunit’ narrative); and again between that of P. G. Wodehouse (for wit), and Oscar Wilde (for punch). “Electric” comes to mind as a possible descriptor — but so do many other adjectives, all of them glowing at 1,000 watts.
To cite just a few examples (and there are hundreds of these bons mots, let’s examine the following sentence from the chapter titled “Tuesday 8th November”:
“(t)he problem is that when you hear the words ‘Brittany’ and ‘art’ in close proximity, you immediately think of Gauguin and his horrible, bilious mustard obsession, or endless rebarbative pencil sketches of lumpen girls in coiffes.”
(Ironic, isn’t it, that while Microsoft’s McWord program doesn’t recognize the perfectly English and energetic “rebarbative,” to say nothing of either ‘lumpen’ or ‘coiffes,’ D.Z.C. does — and uses it to great effect.)
And then, much later in the story, we have this one:
“Normally I’m all in favour of (formality) — I love the formal vous and wish that we had an equivalent in English. It can be mind-blowingly sexy, when used right — a vous appropriately applied can turn my insides to water. (I believe that I’m not alone. Apparently there also exists a subset of weirdoes who make a fetish out of Japanese keigo, or formal language, of which there is naturally an abundance. Personally, I just wouldn’t be able to suspend disbelief. It sounds slightly artificial even when it’s coming from Japan Airlines stewardesses, so God only knows how uncomfortably it must sit on the tongue of a sys-admin from Milton Keynes in a leather waistcoat. Blech.)”
And nearing five-eighths of the story (after we’ve become all too well-acquainted with Louise), we find:
“‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ she snapped, rather too loudly. I sighed. Clearly some back-peddling would be necessary. Dealing with people is such a bore.
“… It was just possible that she would be too stupid to see the natural consequences of this. Naturally, I would have preferred to not come to such a point, but she really was an unwarranted danger: friction and fog, to put it in Clausewitzian terms.”
And finally, as we approach the end-zone of the novel, we find this:
“The Christmas fair was being held in some cramped little prefabs owned by the municipality. From a distance(,) it looked warm and cozy. Close up(,) they were icy cold, despite being full of steam. Everyone kept their coats on (—) and fat, down-stuffed jackets left trails in the condensation on the windows(,) and knocked trinkets off tables. It reminded me of school, somehow. The sellers were precisely what you’d expect(:) the kind of people who believe that their neighbors will be willing to pay six euros for indifferent seed cake just because someone went to the trouble of home-making it.”
As I’ve indicated with the above parentheses, I don’t always agree with D.Z.C.’ punctuation. But ‘to each his own’ — and faulty punctuation, I feel, is a small price to pay for otherwise stellar prose.
In further praise of D.Z.C., I’ll also say that (s)he has this too-delicious little habit — akin to an ‘aside’ in theater talk — of exiting his/her narrative from time to opportune time in order to address or harangue the reader with an instance of self-doubt. I haven’t read this kind of thing since O. Henry — who did it equally as effectively, I might add — and rather than find it distracting, I found it in each case full of piss and vinegar. But a writer has to be extremely self-confident in order to pull this off. And most of us, I’ll venture to say, just don’t feel that degree of confidence.
All of the above notwithstanding — and as one who is not so well-versed in British, French, Japanese, etc., culture as he perhaps should be — I feel I should insert a word of caution: D.Z.C. is. Consequently, you may find yourself as beached a whale as I did when I read, for example, a reference to “…the dulcet tones of Melanie Phillips (of) The Moral Maze (fame)” during a moment of, um, love-making — and subsequently went looking via YouTube.com for what I believed would be an unknown (to me, at least) new balladeer, only to find a BBC Radio talk show featuring “the dulcet tones” of a modern-day harpy. If it’s not already clear from these brief examples, D.Z.C. wields irony like a switchblade.
D.Z.C. addresses his/her story to what I’d believed was an anonymous ‘you’ — had believed, that is, until I got a little over one-third of the way into the novel (location 1296 on my Kindle) and discovered that no, ‘you’ was not at all anonymous, but was in fact a policewoman (albeit, only later identified as such — and still later as Inspector Chantelouve — and still later as Daphne Chantelouve of Scotland Yard, but of French (paternal) lineage; D.Z.C. is obviously not a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am kinda writer when it comes to introducing his/her female protagonist).
Many less gifted writers have some difficulty keeping their characters distinct in a reader’s mind. D.Z.C. does not. A little past the point at which we’re first (and only furtively) introduced to the mysterious “you,” our male protagonist in this story — while house-hunting for a temporary place to warm his heels while he works out his crimes (past, present and future)—meets “a slightly-past-middle-aged English woman” who has just such a place for rent. In a paragraph that seems to run the length of a Bible, this woman comes alive to us as if she were actually standing in the same room. The monologue is (at least to this reader) in a word, heroic in its (D.Z.C.’s) execution!
And what of the ‘rationalist philosopher’ D.Z.C.? I’ll give you this nugget and let you decide for yourself how stern is his/her stuff:
“I would deviate slightly from Buddhist teachings and suggest that the root cause of suffering is not desire but the failure to appreciate what one has for what it is. Though to a certain extent they’re merely different ways of saying the same thing, my version allows that it is perfectly possible to enjoy desire in itself; unfulfilled passion can be a joy and an end in itself, as long as one is willing to accept it and appreciate it without hoping for more. It is, at any rate, free of all the banalities and disappointments attendant on any real intrigue. It all comes down to this: I would have wanted you less had I not known you to be completely beyond my reach.” Ta-dah!
And of D.Z.C. the aficionado of carnality — if not the unabashed carnivore?
“Apparently filled with impetuousness and uncontrollable passion(,) I took Louise roughly in the toilets. God, what hell it must be to make a living as a professional escort.”
(Note D.Z.C.’s omission of an exclamation point at the conclusion of the second sentence. Vintage D.Z.C. and penned, no doubt, with a raised eyebrow — one part, self-mock; one part, self-salute; just a dash of bitters — which most of his characters are apt to wear on one occasion or another.)
One additional word of criticism of D.Z.C.’s work, if I may be allowed…. While D.Z.C. (thankfully!) has no problem with pronominal reference — something that, in my reading experience, seems to have reached a state of pandemic proportions — (s)he’s too often remiss in the matter of dialogue tags. I found myself having to read sections over and over again in order to figure out who was the owner of a particular snippet of dialogue. While I could attribute this to my own poor powers of concentration, D.Z.C. would do well to remember that most people don’t read stories by candlelight in soundproof isolation cells. Print on the page has to contend (and compete) with myriad distractions and disturbances, many of which occur in a reader’s head.
What I will give D.Z.C. kudos for, however, is that (s)he accomplishes something all good writers must: (s)he re-introduces the reader to a number of words that have since gone to the dogs. I’ve always believed that writers are ‘the guardians of the language’ — and D.Z.C. can wear that distinction with pride. We’re not talking polysyllabic, Latinate vocabulary, but rather good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon (or at least Germanic) roots — all of which are firmly grounded.
You might also want to keep a dictionary (or Google) close at hand to check out the English-language meanings of many of the characters’ names. You won’t be disappointed for your efforts.
Oh, and from the chapter “Friday 18th November” (Location 3383 in my Kindle): “Did you know that ‘circumstantial evidence’ is an anagram of ‘can ruin a selected victim?’” I checked. It’s true. (S)he really worked it out. D.Z.C., you rascal you!
One last pair of questions — which I’ll paraphrase from two of D.Z.C.’s final questions in People Like Us before you run off to buy yourself a copy: “What? Did you expect (it) to have a happy ending? Surely you know that real life doesn’t work that way?”
RRB
03/13/14
Brooklyn, NY
March 17, 2014
Ugly Cover - Great Novel
Do dot be fooled by the cover! This novel has so much more to offer than just a poor foggy illustration. In fact, it reminds me more of some of the wonderful literature of the past, with the setting updated for today's European expat community (Britons in Brittany).
The characters in this book were the best thing. They were quirky, weird, recognizable, crazy, rogues, criminals, bizarre, puffed up, alcoholic, lustful and nosey. The only real thing they had in common that everyone agreed on, was that the worst thing you could be was to be BORING.
The novel takes place in a small expat community of Britons in France. in essence, it is just like a small British town. Everyone knows everyone else, as well as the intimate details of their ongoing lives. Gossip is a town-wide sport in which everyone takes part. Being the purveyor of a new piece of hot gossip is quite a high status position.
Into this environment enter two good looking thirty something year old men of excellent education and wit. One is following a hot tip that a an original work of art can be found at a convent within the community. When he drives there, he meets an old friend from school, who happens to have a house down the road from the convent. And so the fun ensues...
Our art enthusiast is an antiques dealer, and believes the painting to be extremely valuable. He must find a way to get it without running afoul of French laws regarding art stolen during the war. In the meantime, there are women, dinner parties, get togethers, a stunning police woman and a jealous husband that he must contend with. He is the primary protagonist, and my favorite character. His ongoing sarcastic wit and ironic outlook are high entertainment. He goggles in amazement at the locals as they illustrate again and again that they will forgive anything, including murder as long as the person adds new excitement to their lives. He is basically a decent human, though shallow and decidedly self-centered. He will clearly cross the line into criminal activity when it gets him what he wants. Erudite, humorous, witty, charming, a rogue, mildly criminal and loves women.
Estrade, the friend he meets who has the house is something of a cypher. He clearly does not have the means to own such a place. He spends time messing with the minds of the neighbors. He delights in tormenting them psychologically. He agrees to help his friend get the painting out of the convent for a cut of the take. He is a cross between the Artful Dodgers and the Scarlet Pimpernel. An educated, charming and clever man who fools everyone regarding his secret life, which is deemed criminal by some, but even some of those who think he is a criminal still respect him.
Now the die is cast and things move forward in unexpected ways. The characters all have secrets - some big and some small, but all will play some part in what happens - even the stunning police woman.
The plotting is very round about, but easy to follow if you pay attention. This is a story about being human. It is a snapshot of life for a certain community, but change the locale, the dialogue and the clothes - it could be set in any time period in European history. There are so many observations about people and life in general in this book that it is worth reading just for that alone. Of course, the entertainment value is stellar.
I highly recommend this story to anyone who enjoyed the witty characters of Dickens, Sabatini, Fielding, Austin, there are so many others. Just buy it. You won't be sorry.
Do dot be fooled by the cover! This novel has so much more to offer than just a poor foggy illustration. In fact, it reminds me more of some of the wonderful literature of the past, with the setting updated for today's European expat community (Britons in Brittany).
The characters in this book were the best thing. They were quirky, weird, recognizable, crazy, rogues, criminals, bizarre, puffed up, alcoholic, lustful and nosey. The only real thing they had in common that everyone agreed on, was that the worst thing you could be was to be BORING.
The novel takes place in a small expat community of Britons in France. in essence, it is just like a small British town. Everyone knows everyone else, as well as the intimate details of their ongoing lives. Gossip is a town-wide sport in which everyone takes part. Being the purveyor of a new piece of hot gossip is quite a high status position.
Into this environment enter two good looking thirty something year old men of excellent education and wit. One is following a hot tip that a an original work of art can be found at a convent within the community. When he drives there, he meets an old friend from school, who happens to have a house down the road from the convent. And so the fun ensues...
Our art enthusiast is an antiques dealer, and believes the painting to be extremely valuable. He must find a way to get it without running afoul of French laws regarding art stolen during the war. In the meantime, there are women, dinner parties, get togethers, a stunning police woman and a jealous husband that he must contend with. He is the primary protagonist, and my favorite character. His ongoing sarcastic wit and ironic outlook are high entertainment. He goggles in amazement at the locals as they illustrate again and again that they will forgive anything, including murder as long as the person adds new excitement to their lives. He is basically a decent human, though shallow and decidedly self-centered. He will clearly cross the line into criminal activity when it gets him what he wants. Erudite, humorous, witty, charming, a rogue, mildly criminal and loves women.
Estrade, the friend he meets who has the house is something of a cypher. He clearly does not have the means to own such a place. He spends time messing with the minds of the neighbors. He delights in tormenting them psychologically. He agrees to help his friend get the painting out of the convent for a cut of the take. He is a cross between the Artful Dodgers and the Scarlet Pimpernel. An educated, charming and clever man who fools everyone regarding his secret life, which is deemed criminal by some, but even some of those who think he is a criminal still respect him.
Now the die is cast and things move forward in unexpected ways. The characters all have secrets - some big and some small, but all will play some part in what happens - even the stunning police woman.
The plotting is very round about, but easy to follow if you pay attention. This is a story about being human. It is a snapshot of life for a certain community, but change the locale, the dialogue and the clothes - it could be set in any time period in European history. There are so many observations about people and life in general in this book that it is worth reading just for that alone. Of course, the entertainment value is stellar.
I highly recommend this story to anyone who enjoyed the witty characters of Dickens, Sabatini, Fielding, Austin, there are so many others. Just buy it. You won't be sorry.
February 25, 2014
It is quite a basic start to the novel, yet a hint of something under the layers of normalcy. The style of writing to start a chapter off is also fascinating, causing me to want to dig further.
It is quite difficult to like the character at first, hard to determine what part he is going to play exactly. The start doesn’t give anything away, so of course you want to keep on reading to find out what is going on.
The story seems to be about a man collecting antiques for his company, stumbling upon an impressive collection in a church. But unfortunately for him, acquiring these antiques is not going to be easy, nor legal.
It is quite interesting how the author writes as though the main character is speaking directly to the reader. Asking the reader rhetorical questions, kind of stating or assuming what the reader is thinking. A different approach for the author to use. And makes it more personal, easier to engage with the story and the character.
Along the way the character stays with Estrade, a man that helps him get what he wants, while Estrade may not be living in a home that is his, but ‘borrowing’ someone else’s. And a charming woman Louise who may not appear as she seems, and is in an unhappy marriage. An intriguing mix. Little hints in the start of each chapter of what the chapter contains are also useful.
Very clean and precise writing. Interesting and amusing characters.
It is quite an interesting portrayal of a man crossing a line. His rendezvous with unique characters creates a humorous plot. The broad spectrum of characters enhanced the novels appeal. Making it a delightful read.
The story developed more than what I expected, so expect the unexpected. Murder, intrigue and lust. A delicious mix to keep you guessing where is it going next.
A great ending, almost finishing in a taunting manner.
4/5 stars
It is quite difficult to like the character at first, hard to determine what part he is going to play exactly. The start doesn’t give anything away, so of course you want to keep on reading to find out what is going on.
The story seems to be about a man collecting antiques for his company, stumbling upon an impressive collection in a church. But unfortunately for him, acquiring these antiques is not going to be easy, nor legal.
It is quite interesting how the author writes as though the main character is speaking directly to the reader. Asking the reader rhetorical questions, kind of stating or assuming what the reader is thinking. A different approach for the author to use. And makes it more personal, easier to engage with the story and the character.
Along the way the character stays with Estrade, a man that helps him get what he wants, while Estrade may not be living in a home that is his, but ‘borrowing’ someone else’s. And a charming woman Louise who may not appear as she seems, and is in an unhappy marriage. An intriguing mix. Little hints in the start of each chapter of what the chapter contains are also useful.
Very clean and precise writing. Interesting and amusing characters.
It is quite an interesting portrayal of a man crossing a line. His rendezvous with unique characters creates a humorous plot. The broad spectrum of characters enhanced the novels appeal. Making it a delightful read.
The story developed more than what I expected, so expect the unexpected. Murder, intrigue and lust. A delicious mix to keep you guessing where is it going next.
A great ending, almost finishing in a taunting manner.
4/5 stars
July 31, 2014
Two previous university students coincidently meet in a small expatriate village in Southern France. Neither of them is up to any good. The main character, an antiques dealer, comes to the village intent on stealing a valuable work of art from a local convent. His friend, who lives in the village, is a crook and confidence trickster. They decide to help each other in their devious plans and form a scrupulous partnership.
D.Z.C. writes fluent prose. From the very start, he creates a leisurely yet pungent mood that can be 'felt' on every page. His characters and their dialogue are realistic. I have always enjoyed the classical styles of Dickens and Wilde, and to my way of thinking this book had a similar taste.
The story unfolds as a series of letters written to a person unknown. I felt they were written to me personally, an approach I found engaging. Life in the village dominates most of the novel, with our friends taking advantage of the community's general gullibility. Their antics, and the narrator's cutting irony, had me chuckling often.
What spoilt the book for me was the slow pace, meagre plot, and lack of proper conclusion. Throughout the novel, there is an abundance of lateral movement; in other words, superfluous material that does little to advance the plot.
If you enjoy novels rich in gossipy details you'll probably enjoy this book enormously; if not, you might find it tedious.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest and nonreciprocal review.
D.Z.C. writes fluent prose. From the very start, he creates a leisurely yet pungent mood that can be 'felt' on every page. His characters and their dialogue are realistic. I have always enjoyed the classical styles of Dickens and Wilde, and to my way of thinking this book had a similar taste.
The story unfolds as a series of letters written to a person unknown. I felt they were written to me personally, an approach I found engaging. Life in the village dominates most of the novel, with our friends taking advantage of the community's general gullibility. Their antics, and the narrator's cutting irony, had me chuckling often.
What spoilt the book for me was the slow pace, meagre plot, and lack of proper conclusion. Throughout the novel, there is an abundance of lateral movement; in other words, superfluous material that does little to advance the plot.
If you enjoy novels rich in gossipy details you'll probably enjoy this book enormously; if not, you might find it tedious.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest and nonreciprocal review.
December 8, 2013
This is the story of an antiques art dealer who teams up with a criminal acquaintance in a small village in France to steal a piece of artwork from a convent. What seems like a simple task leads the two, instead, down a road of hilarious mishaps and bad luck.
The book is well written and filled with a cast of quirky characters from the French village. It is written using a British dialect, so some of the terminology and phrasing can be confusing if you are used to a North American English dialect. This, however, did not take away from the story at all for me.
The first person narrative was very amusing, but rambled quite a bit. While it served to give good characterization of the main character, I found the ramblings to be excessive. Although the musings were funny, he would constantly go off into full paragraphs about subjects and stories that really had nothing to do with anything. And after a while it became a bit too much for me.
In conclusion, I liked it. The story is funny and the characters are interesting. The only thing I could have done without was some of the unnecessary lengthy thoughts from the main character.
The book is well written and filled with a cast of quirky characters from the French village. It is written using a British dialect, so some of the terminology and phrasing can be confusing if you are used to a North American English dialect. This, however, did not take away from the story at all for me.
The first person narrative was very amusing, but rambled quite a bit. While it served to give good characterization of the main character, I found the ramblings to be excessive. Although the musings were funny, he would constantly go off into full paragraphs about subjects and stories that really had nothing to do with anything. And after a while it became a bit too much for me.
In conclusion, I liked it. The story is funny and the characters are interesting. The only thing I could have done without was some of the unnecessary lengthy thoughts from the main character.
December 14, 2013
Quite an enjoyable read as we follow the misadventures of the author, whom we slowly realize is leaving a confession of his tales for a policewoman who has been following him and suspects him of the crimes the story covers. What starts off as an attempt to steal a valuable art piece from a convent turns inevitably into a series of misadventures whence the art dealer is trying to extricate himself. The entire story is in the mind of the narrator which includes his philosophical musings on life in Brittany among the ex-pats and others. The story could have used more action to pop the story along, but overall, a good, quick read.
May 29, 2014
Struggled to finishe this one. Boring. I kept reading it because of all the great reviews. Wish I saw what they saw in it.
September 4, 2014
I made it 6%. I could not read this book. The writing style drove me crazy.
February 28, 2015
By definition, two stars translates to "it was ok"
The story is written in first person, a fairly egotistical man sending a letter to recount his adventure as an ex-pat in the South of France. He's an antiques dealer of questionable moral standards who doesn't intentionally try to break the law. On his trip to view an antique at a convent (and we never do know what it is he was so enamored of) he runs into a colleague of even more questionable standards (although he prefers not to think about that part) and decides to stay a while. What follows is a walk through adultery, breaking and entering, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and even murder.
Written in a European style (I might compare it to Oscar Wilde), some of the idioms were at the edge of my reach. The author generously provided translations of the foreign phrases he uses (with the exception of the quotes that begin chapters). There were two characters in the book named Brian (near as I can tell, since one showed up after the other one was off the page) which was confusing. The plot felt a little thin to me. The narrator, while presented well, was still not really a likable sort. For the most part, he prefers to turn a blind eye to the events happening around him and does not accept any responsibility when he is drawn into some of the intrigue. At the end, he is invited to take a shower in the letter-recipient's hotel room, in spite of the fact that she clearly doesn't like him, which didn't seem at all plausible. And in the course of the book - his discourse to her - he decides at the end that there are things he should leave out of the story, and yet the entire story is his letter to her (so clearly he HAS told her).
The pacing was good, this wasn't a book I slogged through. The action/adventure sequences were well drawn and had me reading to find out how they would be resolved and how he would be involved or not involved. Several plot points were left dangling (what happened to Estrade/Anguillar?, what happened with the antique? What WAS the antique?) So yeah, mixed review on this one.
The story is written in first person, a fairly egotistical man sending a letter to recount his adventure as an ex-pat in the South of France. He's an antiques dealer of questionable moral standards who doesn't intentionally try to break the law. On his trip to view an antique at a convent (and we never do know what it is he was so enamored of) he runs into a colleague of even more questionable standards (although he prefers not to think about that part) and decides to stay a while. What follows is a walk through adultery, breaking and entering, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, and even murder.
Written in a European style (I might compare it to Oscar Wilde), some of the idioms were at the edge of my reach. The author generously provided translations of the foreign phrases he uses (with the exception of the quotes that begin chapters). There were two characters in the book named Brian (near as I can tell, since one showed up after the other one was off the page) which was confusing. The plot felt a little thin to me. The narrator, while presented well, was still not really a likable sort. For the most part, he prefers to turn a blind eye to the events happening around him and does not accept any responsibility when he is drawn into some of the intrigue. At the end, he is invited to take a shower in the letter-recipient's hotel room, in spite of the fact that she clearly doesn't like him, which didn't seem at all plausible. And in the course of the book - his discourse to her - he decides at the end that there are things he should leave out of the story, and yet the entire story is his letter to her (so clearly he HAS told her).
The pacing was good, this wasn't a book I slogged through. The action/adventure sequences were well drawn and had me reading to find out how they would be resolved and how he would be involved or not involved. Several plot points were left dangling (what happened to Estrade/Anguillar?, what happened with the antique? What WAS the antique?) So yeah, mixed review on this one.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 15, 2014
I enjoy a good “over-educated, amoral, young men commit crimes” novel, and this one doesn’t disappoint. Both the point-of-view character, Nicolas, and his friend, Estrade, have little-to-no scruples about anything they do, be it seducing a neighbor’s wife, stealing from nuns, or committing murder.
Set in a community of British ex-pats in the Brittany region of France, Nicolas Keszthelyi, is an antiques dealer of dubious legality. On a visit to a church, he spots a valuable item that he immediately covets, and sets out to steal. He is staying with an acquaintance that he knows as Estrade, a London crook, now going by another name. Nicolas enlists Estrade in his quest to steal the item, which is never identified. A British police woman, working in conjunction with the French police, suspects Estrade might be involved in a series of house break-ins in which the owners are tied up and forced to give over their credit card information. The cat-and-mouse game between these three forms the catalyst for the letter Nicolas writes to her, which is the narrative-style of the story.
The book is a little overlong, and has too many “scenes with the locals” that don’t advance the story. It also seems oddly formatted, with dialogue and narrative run together in a way that sometimes makes it hard to follow who is speaking. For the most part, it is well edited, though there are a couple of typos and Joan Jetson is misidentified as Jane Jetson. The story teeters to farce with the second murder, and the two versions of what happens between Estrade and the policewoman at Estrade’s house is sort of a cheap trick. Still, this is an ambitious novel and a fun read.
I received a copy of this book in return for an honest review.
Set in a community of British ex-pats in the Brittany region of France, Nicolas Keszthelyi, is an antiques dealer of dubious legality. On a visit to a church, he spots a valuable item that he immediately covets, and sets out to steal. He is staying with an acquaintance that he knows as Estrade, a London crook, now going by another name. Nicolas enlists Estrade in his quest to steal the item, which is never identified. A British police woman, working in conjunction with the French police, suspects Estrade might be involved in a series of house break-ins in which the owners are tied up and forced to give over their credit card information. The cat-and-mouse game between these three forms the catalyst for the letter Nicolas writes to her, which is the narrative-style of the story.
The book is a little overlong, and has too many “scenes with the locals” that don’t advance the story. It also seems oddly formatted, with dialogue and narrative run together in a way that sometimes makes it hard to follow who is speaking. For the most part, it is well edited, though there are a couple of typos and Joan Jetson is misidentified as Jane Jetson. The story teeters to farce with the second murder, and the two versions of what happens between Estrade and the policewoman at Estrade’s house is sort of a cheap trick. Still, this is an ambitious novel and a fun read.
I received a copy of this book in return for an honest review.
January 12, 2016
Brilliant, witty, hilarious. Is that a sufficient review? Oh fine, then. I'll throw in some observations by the love-smitten but amoral narrator to convince you to read this book.
"I only act stupid enough to fit in with the people around me."
"... a woman is just a woman, a beautiful object is art. (The Japanese are the exception - they manage to be both.)"
"... nothing would do now but that I hang around and make bloody Christmas puddings with that pair of cackling witches. I smiled happily and participated. Daisy described her hysterectomy."
"He gave me the genuine, beatific smile of a waiter announcing that the cheapest option on the menu is unavailable. (The Japanese word for this is "nlya nlya". Watch yourself saying it aloud in a mirror and you'll understand.)"
Go forth, read, and enjoy.
"I only act stupid enough to fit in with the people around me."
"... a woman is just a woman, a beautiful object is art. (The Japanese are the exception - they manage to be both.)"
"... nothing would do now but that I hang around and make bloody Christmas puddings with that pair of cackling witches. I smiled happily and participated. Daisy described her hysterectomy."
"He gave me the genuine, beatific smile of a waiter announcing that the cheapest option on the menu is unavailable. (The Japanese word for this is "nlya nlya". Watch yourself saying it aloud in a mirror and you'll understand.)"
Go forth, read, and enjoy.
January 2, 2016
Deng Zichao’s People Like Us is a humorous crime novel, but it is also about people like them, and by them I mean British expats living in contemporary Brittany.
Acting on a tip about an expensive artifact hidden away in a local convent, petty antiques thief Nicolas Keszthelyi blows into Brittany in the dead of winter. There, he hooks up with Estrade, a criminal acquaintance also up to no good. Together, they scheme to steal the artifact from beneath the noses of the nuns. In the process, there is an affair, people get killed, and a beautiful French detective gets involved. That’s the overarching plot, which occupies about 20% of the novel.
...read the rest of this review at UndergroundBookReviews(dot)org!
Acting on a tip about an expensive artifact hidden away in a local convent, petty antiques thief Nicolas Keszthelyi blows into Brittany in the dead of winter. There, he hooks up with Estrade, a criminal acquaintance also up to no good. Together, they scheme to steal the artifact from beneath the noses of the nuns. In the process, there is an affair, people get killed, and a beautiful French detective gets involved. That’s the overarching plot, which occupies about 20% of the novel.
...read the rest of this review at UndergroundBookReviews(dot)org!
October 19, 2015
Zichao’s book is mostly built on brilliant dialogue with a smattering of narrative. This naturally creates excellent characters, and intriguing character driven sub-plots.
As for our protagonist, he is an entertaining scoundrel. A true anti-hero, there is little redeeming about him. However, redeeming and entertaining are often mutually exclusive. Keszthelyi’s dry humor and snappy insights make him a fun read.
People Like Us is an intelligent (in some places brilliant), well-written and entertaining novel.
As for our protagonist, he is an entertaining scoundrel. A true anti-hero, there is little redeeming about him. However, redeeming and entertaining are often mutually exclusive. Keszthelyi’s dry humor and snappy insights make him a fun read.
People Like Us is an intelligent (in some places brilliant), well-written and entertaining novel.
April 25, 2016
Very disjointed relationships
I still don't get it after completion of the story. Enjoyed the disjointed stories of each chapter. Liked that the time frame of the story is short. Anyone that is interested in solving mysteries would enjoy this book. I chose four stars because it left me wanting to read it again just to see why I didn't get it.
I still don't get it after completion of the story. Enjoyed the disjointed stories of each chapter. Liked that the time frame of the story is short. Anyone that is interested in solving mysteries would enjoy this book. I chose four stars because it left me wanting to read it again just to see why I didn't get it.
April 25, 2014
Nice story
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