Room by Emma Donoghue


[rating=4] Riveting. Read this nearly in one sitting. Incredibly well crafted, ‘Room’ is a crazy but successful exercise in trying to inhabit the minds of people whose experience is far outside your own ken.

I wonder if Emma Donoghue wrote this purely from reading reports of abductions, or if she interviewed women who have lived through this particular hell – the frame of the story is a hybrid of several high-profile kidnapping cases, particularly those of Colleen Stan and Jaycee Dugard.

Narrating from the POV of Jack, the five year old, was a wise choice. It allows the nightmare of their situation to be blunted by his lack of full comprehension; wordplay comedy and bath time and ‘Dora the Explorer’ dull the knife edge of fear that gripped me every time I witnessed the mother protecting Jack from the brutal truth.

Beyond her stoicism and endurance, Ma’s creativity blew my mind; the toys they build from trash and the games she invents – particularly ‘Parrot’ – were so inventive and educational I wanted to take notes.

Probably one of the scariest books I have read in a long time, because of the awful reality that such abominable acts do happen. Worth reading.

For more gripping drama and compelling reading, you might try…

1) Lionel Shriver’s ‘We Need To Talk About Kevin’

2) Ami McKay’s ‘The Birth House’

3) Audrey Niffenegger’s ‘The Time Traveler’s Wife’

4 of 5 stars / bookshelves: read, 321 pages, Publisher: Little, Brown and Company (2010)
Read from July 28 to 30, 2012

The Big Four by Agatha Christie


[rating=1] I hesitate to use the word “awful” in association with the Queen of Crime, but ‘The Big Four’ is a bad egg. Penned (some say ghost-written) during Dame Agatha’s worst year: In 1926, her mother died and her husband told her he was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce.

No wonder she was off her game, poor dear.

Originally published in serial format, this cluster of overblown spy adventures should never have featured portly, inactive Poirot & poor, clueless Hastings as action-heroes. They simply don’t suit. James Bond and Tintin would have been better cast in these roles.

Moving away from subtle clues and hidden motives, Christie seems to have written a movie script for Michael Bay to direct. There are poisoned blow darts disguised as cigarettes, evil Russian countesses, underground lairs, ninja smoke bombs, mountain fortresses… it’s absurdly over the top. The shark? Agatha has jumped it.

Oh, and the racism. Yikes! Asian people, I apologize for this woeful bag of stereotyped, insulting nonsense. Fu Manchu looks good next to Li Chang Yen and Ah Ling. So embarrassing. As Christie would say, “I welly sorry.” *cringe*

Leave this one on the shelf, and go read one of Christie’s slow-paced village mysteries; they’re so much better. If you’re desperate for an international spy thriller by her, try ‘The Man in the Brown Suit’ instead.

No, really, she can write MUCH better than this…

1) International crime! That doesn’t suck! Agatha’s ‘The Man in the Brown Suit’

2) The first Poirot, and one of the best. Agatha’s ‘Mysterious Affair at Styles’

3) Another brilliant, rule-breaking Poirot. Agatha’s ‘Murder of Roger Ackroyd’

4) Outlandish plot, but not absurdly so. Agatha’s ‘The A.B.C. Murders’

1 of 5 stars / bookshelves: read, mystery, 224 pages, Publisher: Avon (2011 reprint; first published 1927)
Read from July 19 to 25, 2012