Done. Done. Complete. Finished. Fini. Fin. Adios. Au Revoir. Auf Wiedersehen Adios. Ba-Bye. Toodles. Going. Going. Gone!!
Omg I couldn't wait to finish this thing! Let me be completely frank here.. this is a prime example of extreme wordiness getting in the way of what could have possibly been a good story. But alas, it was not. It niggled me to no end. I waded through this. I couldn't wait to finish. I ended up skimming and skipping through to the finished line but had actually given up the race a long time ago.
The book jacket and the synopsis lead me to believe this was an Victorian mystery. Upon beginning the book, yes we are met with a murder on the Thames and a detective. He starts to investigate. I thought, "Ooo. This is good!"
But then as I got to the next chapter, a whole new story begins about a society relative of his and a trip to the theater in play by play detail of the entire experience.. who visits the theater box, world opinions are discussed, views on life, goodness.. morality.. I was bored to tears. I thought, "Oh no.. this is bad".
But, nevertheless, I pressed on with the intense hope that we would get back to our mystery and our detective. And we did. Crowded within the constant refuse of ideals and conversations and opinions and views, there were nuggets of story. I plodded on. Every time I felt, I shall surely put this down, there'd be another nugget wrapped in a balled up piece of propaganda. I felt as if I was trecking through 8 inches of snow chasing a piece of cheese trying to get home. Make sense? I know! That's my point. I know the author intended a murder mystery. I know the author also intended to discuss the Victorian idea of morality and how it was a changing time for the world and society. (Ah ha! You see author I did get the point.) But this was lengthy. This was needling. This was tiring. It was just too much. I get that as an author you can't help but leave pieces of your self within your work. As an avid reader and budding writer, I get this completely. But I tire endlessly of books where author's come out of the story line to ramble on endlessly about their views or ideals or sermons. Come out from behind the guise of fiction, call it non fiction, say what you have to say until your heart feels lighter and allow me to avoid it because I wanted to read fiction. Or master the art of sliding those lessons into the story in such a way that they are enjoyable. It's reminiscent of how everyone wants to be so quote unquote healthy and everyone wants to be so opinionated. If you hand me a block o' tofu and say, "here it's healthy, eat this". I'm going to cover my mouth like a little kid and mumble between my fingers "nah ah". But if you put that thing into a dish with spices and other tasty items, I just might eat it and get nourished. Stir your stories up authors!
(T.V. Announcers voice):Here is a mystery...
And just when it's getting good.
(Announcer): We interrupt this mystery to bring you...the author, droning on about her personal ideas, opinions, thoughts, visions, research, day to day activities, more ideas.. opinions...
Viewer: Comatose. Steam above head. Eyes crossed. Slouches, slides out of chair onto floor.
And scene.
Scores? For me this is a 2 all day. It had potential but then got side tracked and gave me a headache. I didn't quit because I was too far in and needed to know the result. I stopped watching the movie.. but I still hit the fwd button just in case. I didn't want to miss "IT" if it happened... it didn't. Deb looks directly through screen, makes deep eye contact with reader. Shakes head in sorrow. "It never did." A moment of sad silent reflection ensues.
Do I recommend it? Who am I to deny someone who enjoys "sifting". Maybe that's your thing. Sift away. It reminded me a bit of those books from the 1800's and the only way the author could get their opinions out there was to attempt to put a fiction cloak on it... but in my opinion after 1980 that way is less than necessary.
My shelves are bursting... on to the next book!!