Had it not been for Jessica Ennis and Mo Farrar et al i probably would have finished this ages ago. It is an easy quick read of the Agatha Christie school though the plot is nowhere near as well set up. This is the first of the series that i have opened and it teeters on the edge of whether I will bother to open any others. It was a perfectly serviceable story involving a murder, lots of suspects, over the top characters and a solution with some love interest thrown in but that was its problem.....oodles of writers have blazed this trail before and Dunn seems just to be trailing along in the cinders left by the passing flames.
The story is set in the early 1920's and everything that could be crammed into the story is crammed in. We have, in the space of 232 pages, references and links to the Russian Revolution, the 'Great War', the weird new fashions of hairstyle and dress, the clash of the old pre-War society and the thrusting new one, the seeking of new career paths and the seeking after female independance, the rise of the 'lower classes' and the ebbing away of the 'upper class' but it all rings pretty hollow. All the characters, whether good or bad, are so telegraphed ahead that it would take a total idiot not to know where the story is going. I am rubbish at guessing the murderers in stuff and yet I knew from far back in the book who did the deed. Dunn tried far too hard to tell us which characters we were supposed to like and loathe, the ones we were supposed to smile at and those we were to sneer at. When it suited her story, infidelity was to be tutted over and frowned upon but then at other times it was presented as the path to release and fulfillment. Come on Dunn, lets have a bit of consistency here.
Our heroine, the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple, is the daughter of an aristo but she is only honourable cos her title could not be inherited by a woman but passes to the next male heir, a cousin. Her burgeoning romance with the Detective Chief Inspector enables all sorts of predictable plotlines to move forward. There are also heavy doses of anti-semitism from many of the characters which, though sadly present in society at this time, is rather laid on with the proverbial trowel. There are excitable foreigners and mousey sisters, bitchey sopranos and lustful tenors and there is even a ridiculously unsympathetic vicar thrown in for good measure. Cliche after cliche, exaggeration after exaggeration. Not particularly bad but not particularly good. I would say this is a 2.5 leading to a 3. An easy read for times when you are likely to be interrupted a good deal. Train journeys, waiting in the dentist, stuck in traffic but not a book that brings you into a real place.
Now here comes a diatribe from me and apologies ahead of time but you can always miss this bit out. She and 'all her set' talk in that ridiculously stupid way that only characters in books written about the 1920's or 30's ever speak. I mean seriously, did anybody on God's earth ever say 'spiffing' or 'ripping' or 'you are a duffer' or other such inanities anywhere other than in the imagination of writers desperate to create a social strata that, though it really existed, would no more have spoken in such stupid, clipped ways than would people now really grab their groins for no apparent reason, poke the air with their hands as they speak and say innit and kinda and bro and the other inarticulate nonsense that has been created as the new 'youff speak' had it not been made clear that that is the cool way to speak.
Actually thinking about it, perhaps Dunn is right, maybe they did talk in such stupidly effected ways because peer pressure, as we see every day on the media, can create empty, meaningless inarticulate nonsense and so, just as i am pleased I am too old to bow to pressure and tug on my groin in public to punctuate anything I might have to say, so i am also pleased that I was spared the inane, pretentious drivel of the flapper era......maybe that is why i don't like PG Wodehouse.
WHUMP.....that was me climbing off my soapbox