Ayem Samwan > Recent Status Updates

Quite creepy. Engrossing thriller.

Eerie

I'm too sleepy to elaborate. I can only say that there's something about P. D. James' reassuring narrative that soothes me even when a murder is about to transpire.

I just started reading this last night. It was a tenebrous beginning. Yet, even as I continue, I can only envisage a milieu deep in shadows with a white noise to match. Ngaio Marsh makes it look and even sound that a girl walking down a busy street can be ominous. Noir kung noir.

3. Perhaps, it's mere surmise on my part as I've only begun reading this book, but I have a feeling that I won't be disappointed. I'm just so pleased. I'm effused with enthusiasm.

It's the perfect book to recover from the tragic novel of Kazuo Ishiguro's "When We Were Orphans."

2. It surpassed my expectations.

I think, her lyrical prose works so well on this fantasy genre. The tuneful vividness of her story telling evokes dimensions & vibrations like a magical encantation in a grim or dreamy fairy land.

1. When I read Mary Stewart's book for the first time, I fell instantly in love with her descriptive narrative. That novel, "The Ivy Tree", was teeming with promising beginning only to fall short from its potential on its entirety. Yet, I'm glad that it was that book of her's that I read first. Unprepared to be enchanted with my current read, "Thornyhold", which she wrote, as well, I was pleasantly surprised.

I'm usually indulgent on the uneventful and laggardly pace of a novel. However, there's a certain kind of suitable writing  for those kinds of books that I can't seem to find on this one. Perhaps, it's because my eyes are spending too much time rolling up to my forehead from their proper sockets as I continue to reading this.

There's too much romance on this book, which I don't mind if the narrative isn't too tacky with a vain attempt to be cerebral through the psychological angle.

I'm usually indulgent on the uneventful and laggardly pace of a novel. However, there's a certain kind of suitable writing for those kinds of books that I can't seem to find on this one. Perhaps, it's because my eyes are spending way too much time rolling up to my forehead from their proper sockets as I continue reading this.

There are too much romance on this book, which I don't mind if the narrative isn't too tacky with a vain attempt to be cerebral through a psychological angle.

It was an infinite beginning; plodding page after page with my eyes as weary as my heart. It only got interesting when I got to a hundred and more with the French antique letters that piqued my curiosity until their mystique are lost through a sluggish unraveling of a gaudy romance.

#3. I have no illusion that this book can still turn out to be as great as this author's other novel, "The Historian". Yet, I intend to continue because of the following: 1.) I don't want to break the discipline. 2.) I don't want to miss the opportunity for this book to redeem itself. 3.) It's not interesting enough to keep me from working.

#2. Now that I'm about to start reading the next part  of another romance (which are too many on this book), I'm just not thrilled. I have a feeling that this is just another gaudy love story; overtly romanticized just because it's forbidden & difficult in an "artistic" atmosphere.

#1. It was a bit of a slow start; plodding through the pages with my eyes as weary as my heart. Then, on its hundredth page, it got interesting. The antique letters were intriguing until they weren't on the next two hundredth pages. All along, it seems that its mystery was buiding up only for something tacky.

However, I'm not even hoping for this book to be a good one anymore. I only need it to be tolerable.

Actually, I still have good materials in my TBR (to-be-read). I'm merely resisting because I don't want to be distracted from work.

#1.
Last year, during lock down, I developed another compulsion for buying books online. Now that I'm gradually getting 'round those purchases, I'm recovering; learning the hard way.

It doesn' t help that Sophie Hannah's remark is featured on this book's covering. (My curiosity about her work was repelled by the only book of her's that I read.)

... just a reminder where I am in this book because I forgot to bring a bookmark.