Le Fay / Sophie Keetch

 

4.25 out of 5 stars 

Halloween Bingo 2024

OMG, the second “ugly crying" book this week! Will my sinuses ever recover? And, yes, I know this is a Morgan le Fay and King Arthur retelling, so happy endings are just not probable.

Morgan stands up to Merlin, to the judgment of Christians (who frankly don't act very Christian), to Queen Guinevere (who is determined to control her), her brutal husband Urien of Gore, and to the unyielding misjudgment of her brother Arthur. She is not without fault—impetuous, easily angered, unwilling to be limited by anyone, stubborn. Yet I could strongly identify with her independence and determination. Merlin has managed to subvert her brother and his kingdom, leading him to seek power only through violence, foregoing negotiation and not caring to understand Morgan's position. Morgan has lost so much and feels it so deeply.

I must believe at this point that there will be a third book. There just has to be a continuation that includes Lancelot, to humanize Guinevere and teach her to judge less harshly. Does Morgan get a show down with Ninniane, with whom she once had an understanding? Where is Morgan's second child? Will Morgan make good on her vow to bring down the golden city of Camelot? It will undoubtedly make me cry again, but it will be worth it.

I read this for the Grimm Tale square on my Bingo Card.

A Daughter of Fair Verona / Christina Dadd

 

4.5 out of 5 stars 

Absolutely fricking delightful! I'm so glad I picked up this mystery, which features Rosaline Montague, daughter of Romeo and Juliet Montague. Yes, you're thinking of the right people. In the first few pages, Rosie regales us with the “real" ending of the story:

Mom grabbed Dad's knife out of the sheath and stabbed herself. There was a lot of blood, and she fainted, but essentially she stabbed that gold pendant necklace her family buried her with, the knife skidded sideways, and she slashed her own chest. She still has the scar, which, when I'm rolling my eyes, she insists on showing me. What with all that blood, she fainted. When she came to, still very much alive, she crawled back up on the tomb, sobbed again over Dad's body, and got wound up for a second self-stabbing. It was at this point Dad sat up, leaned over, and vomited all over the floor. It's a well-known fact you can never trust an unfamiliar apothecary to deliver a reliable dose of poison.

If a semi-modern voice in a historical mystery disturbs you, I would recommend that you give this a chapter or two. I was captured from the first pages (and that dissonance usually drives me nuts), so I encourage open-mindedness. Rosie is an “ancient” unmarried virgin woman (age 20) who has successfully distracted three fiancés with more suitable matches. She likes living at home with her family. Until Romeo reluctantly betroths her to Duke Stephano, who is suspected of poisoning three previous spouses.

Of course, it is the day of the betrothal party that Rosie falls madly in love with Lysander, a young man who has scaled the Montague garden wall to woo her. Her reputation is saved by Prince Escalus, ruler of Verona. She will need his support again when the Duke is discovered stabbed to death in the garden. Can Rosie clear her name, salvage her reputation, and claim her One True Love?

Dodd plays skillfully with the Romeo and Juliet story. What would they be like as older adults? How would they deal with a house full of children? How would their eldest child, Rosaline, react to the uber-romantic saga of her parents' love story? By becoming ultra rational and organized, that's how! Usually, a humorous conceit like this wears thin as the book progresses, but I never tired of Dodd's approach. Her humor was right on the money, especially as Rosie completely overlooks her own attractiveness and misinterprets the actions of the men around her.

So, although Rosie is surprised by the ending, the reader is not. It is charming! I note that this is first in a series and I can hardly wait to see what this Daughter of Montague gets up to next.

The Queens of Innis Lear / Tessa Gratton

5 out of 5 stars

A kingdom at risk, a crown divided, a family drenched in blood.

The erratic decisions of a prophecy-obsessed king have drained Innis Lear of its wild magic, leaving behind a trail of barren crops and despondent subjects. Enemy nations circle the once-bountiful isle, sensing its growing vulnerability, hungry to control the ideal port for all trade routes.

The king's three daughters—battle-hungry Gaela, master manipulator Reagan, and restrained, starblessed Elia—know the realm's only chance of resurrection is to crown a new sovereign, proving a strong hand can resurrect magic and defend itself. But their father will not choose an heir until the longest night of the year, when prophecies align and a poison ritual can be enacted.

Refusing to leave their future in the hands of blind faith, the daughters of Innis Lear prepare for war—but regardless of who wins the crown, the shores of Innis will weep the blood of a house divided.

This book may not be everyone’s cuppa tea, but it ticked all of my favourite boxes. Dark fantasy, looming disaster, an animate natural world, intoxicating magic, and powerful women paired with emotionally strong men. Re-telling a fabulous tale—King Lear.

It was like bitter dark chocolate, black velvet with gorgeous gold embroidery, or standing by a fire in the winter time, when only one side of you can be warm at a time. The opposites: star magic and earth magic, dark and light, poison vs. nourishment. I loved the language of the trees and the idea that the island could speak to those who rule it legitimately.

Don’t go into expecting things to work out exactly as Shakespeare wrote it—Gratton has placed her own wonderful spin on the events, making things work out HER way. In fact, in the acknowledgements she states how much she hated King Lear. So she has rewritten it the way she wanted events to go.

Both the original and this version show Lear refusing to take responsibility for his kingdom and being brought down by fate for that shirking. In the original, he wants all the privileges of kingship without the responsibilities. In Gratton’s version, he wants all the privileges of fatherhood without the parenting. Neither of these things work.

I wish I had reviewed the events of Shakespeare’s play before I plunged into this novel. I didn’t recognize Ban immediately as the equivalent of Edmund. I also thought that it was inspired to give Lear’s Fool a daughter and make her an attendant to Elia, the youngest daughter.

My first 5 star book of 2019. Well worth the long wait for it at the public library.

Daughter of the Forest / Juliet Mariller

4.5 stars out of 5

Lovely Sorcha is the seventh child and only daughter of Lord Colum of Sevenwaters. Bereft of a mother, she is comforted by her six brothers who love and protect her. Sorcha is the light in their lives, they are determined that she know only contentment.

But Sorcha's joy is shattered when her father is bewitched by his new wife, an evil enchantress who binds her brothers with a terrible spell, a spell which only Sorcha can lift-by staying silent. If she speaks before she completes the quest set to her by the Fair Folk and their queen, the Lady of the Forest, she will lose her brothers forever.

When Sorcha is kidnapped by the enemies of Sevenwaters and taken to a foreign land, she is torn between the desire to save her beloved brothers, and a love that comes only once. Sorcha despairs at ever being able to complete her task, but the magic of the Fair Folk knows no boundaries, and love is the strongest magic of them all...

I read this book to fill the Grimm Tale square of my 2018 Halloween Bingo card.

To understand how much I love this novel, I must tell you how much I loved a Classics Illustrated version of The Wild Swans that I had as a child. It was one of the first things that I ever read all by myself and I read that comic book until it was tattered. This book is a retelling of that Hans Christian Andersen tale, which he probably heard as The Six Swans through the Brothers Grimm.

This version sets the story back into a pagan Irish setting, another thing that I absolutely adore. I’m a firm lover of the Fae, who seem to be behind most of the action in this version. I’m also enthusiastic about the details that Ms. Marillier has added to the tale. In the Andersen version, the brother left with a swan’s wing at the end is eventually fully restored to humanity, but Finbar in this version is left longing for his swan mate, since swans mate for life. I think the poignancy of the story is also improved by the modern realization that a person couldn’t spend years as a swan without having significant emotional issues.

I’m not sure how many New Zealand authors that I’ve actually read, but if Juliet Marillier is any indication of the talent available in that country, I will be seeking out more. It’s hard to divide the charm of the story from the quality of the writing—both are top notch in this book. This is yet another example of young adult literature providing excellence that I can fully appreciate.

Macbeth / Jo Nesbø

3.5 stars out of 5

He’s the best cop they’ve got.

When a drug bust turns into a bloodbath it’s up to Inspector Macbeth and his team to clean up the mess.

He’s also an ex-drug addict with a troubled past.

He’s rewarded for his success. Power. Money. Respect. They’re all within reach.

But a man like him won’t get to the top.

Plagued by hallucinations and paranoia, Macbeth starts to unravel. He’s convinced he won’t get what is rightfully his.

Unless he kills for it.


My enjoyment of this book suffered greatly from a case of bad timing—it came in at the library when I was in the mood for lighter, happier reading. And yet, I’d waited many weeks for it and there were 60 people behind me in line, so I felt duty bound to read it and pass it on. Perhaps I should have returned it and rejoined the line of holds.

Macbeth is a dark, bloody story. Jo Nesbø is expert at dark and bloody plot lines. This is a match made in hell. But I came to realize that when I watch Shakespeare’s version, I am insulated. There are kings and thanes and witches and iambic pentameter, none of which occur in my regular life and I’m able to distance myself from the violence, the blood and the back stabbing. This version, set in a modern town and police department, removed that cotton wool and exposed my nerve endings! During the first third of the book, I had a difficult time picking it back up after a break, because I knew the basic story line and knew that death and destruction were coming. Seeing it in modern terms, with modern weapons, in a current setting somehow made it so much worse and made it so much more relevant to a 21st century reader.

In Nesbø’s version, Macbeth is the successful head of a SWAT team in a town seething with corruption, double dealing and drugs. Everyone is on the take, it seems, if the price is high enough. Macbeth, orphan child, former circus performer, recovering addict, has come up in the world and is poised to go even higher. His love, Lady, has similarly come up from violence and poverty to now own a large and successful casino.

I thought Nesbø’s choice to make Hecate the head of the most successful drug cartel in the town was brilliant, and especially to have three women brewing the drugs. One of these three, Strega (Italian for witch, dontcha know) is Hecate’s main way of communicating with Macbeth and Lady, among others.

Someday, when I’m more in the mood for dark and dangerous, I may take this book on again and see what I make of it the second time around. In the meanwhile, I may check out the National Theatre’s production of the play (starring Rory Kinnear and Anne-Marie Duff) later this month at my local movie theatre.

Dunbar / Edward St. Aubyn

5 out of 5 stars

‘I really did have an empire, you know,’ said Dunbar. ‘Have I ever told you the story of how it was stolen from me?’

Henry Dunbar, the once all-powerful head of a global corporation, is not having a good day. In his dotage he handed over care of the family firm to his two eldest daughters, Abby and Megan. But relations quickly soured, leaving him doubting the wisdom of past decisions...

Now imprisoned in a care home in the Lake District with only a demented alcoholic comedian as company, Dunbar starts planning his escape. As he flees into the hills, his family is hot on his heels. But who will find him first, his beloved youngest daughter, Florence, or the tigresses Abby and Megan, so keen to divest him of his estate?

This is the Hogath Shakespeare’s version of King Lear, a play that I have seen performed at least twice in the last couple of years. It’s a powerful story and I would imagine that it would be a daunting piece to take on in a retelling such as this one, but Edward St. Aubyn was certainly up to the task!

I picked it up Sunday morning, meaning to just get a start on it. After all, I already knew the inevitable ending—everybody dies, right? But St. Aubyn’s creation grabbed me and would not let go! He made it fresh with Henry Dunbar, the media mogul, whose hubris has brought him low. I read the entire thing before lunch!

I was impressed by both performances of Lear that I’ve seen, but they both played up Lear as suffering from dementia, as that’s one of the concerns of modern society. But St. Aubyn returned to Shakespeare’s original intention, I think, that Dunbar is brought low by his desire to have privilege without responsibility. Like Lear in the play, Dunbar regains his wits just long enough to realize all that he has lost, a truly tragic ending.

I really loved the drunken comedian, Peter Walker, in his role as the fool. That was an inspired bit of casting on the author’s part.

How have I not read any of St. Aubyn’s work before? That mistake must be corrected!