A dead end street – nine houses, nine neighbours, nine creepy little horror shorts!
The host of a street dinner party makes the startling revelation toA dead end street – nine houses, nine neighbours, nine creepy little horror shorts!
The host of a street dinner party makes the startling revelation to his guests that the original residents of their houses were a coven of nine witches who made a pact to keep “the spirits bound to the other realm”. But, in time, that magic has been weakening, “barely holding on by a thread”. If the residents fail to strengthen the number nine in their lives, then the resulting failure of that binding could free those spirits. “Terrible things could happen on Nine Street”. And THAT is the basis for a thoroughly entertaining collection of tales indeed!
TWISTED TALES OF A DEAD END STREET is a bravura collection of fast-paced horror shorts with themes of murder, animal abuse, paranormal, and malevolent spirits delivered with humour, a cast of characters with tongue-in-cheek Dickensian names, and suitably gothic atmosphere. Although each of the chapters stands on its own merits as a compelling short story, the linkage between the stories provides the basis for a clever ending twist in the final chapter.
This is the first of three books that I purchased when I met the author at a local book fair. I’m definitely looking forward to the other two and I’m thrilled to have made the acquaintance of such a skilled local author that I can happily recommend to fellow readers.
On the surface, MIDNIGHT AT MARBLE ARCH is an exciting story of murder, sexual assault and serial rape in the hig“Decent women do not get raped.”
On the surface, MIDNIGHT AT MARBLE ARCH is an exciting story of murder, sexual assault and serial rape in the highest levels of Victorian society. Under normal circumstances, the rape of a wealthy merchant banker would fall outside Thomas Pitt’s jurisdiction as newly appointed head of Special Branch. But Pitt’s involvement becomes inevitable as the investigation leads to what appears to be a serial rapist who has preyed upon the daughters of international diplomats. The solution of the crime becomes more urgent as money, markets, international finance and potential skullduggery in South African investments lead Pitt, his brilliant wife, and his former superior, Victor Narraway down twisted paths. Then there is the looming catastrophe of a potentially wrongfully-convicted man facing imminent execution.
Perry’s atmospheric descriptions of the moneyed levels of Victoria society are evocative and graphic:
“Pitt … looked across the glittering ballroom of the Spanish Embassy in the heart of London. The light from the chandeliers sparkled on necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Between the somber black and white suits of the men, the women’s gowns blossomed in every color of the early summer: delicate pastels for the young, burning pinks and golds for those in the height of their beauty, and wines, mulberries, and lavenders for the more advanced.”
The exquisite sensitivity of the entire list of characters in the novel to their position in England’s 19th century class structure is portrayed to a fault. It was clear that one false move by anyone in society or a presumption to status above one’s place in the recognized and inviolate pecking order would result in censure and scorn. Misogyny was an integral part of societal thinking and, to a great extent, even the most progressive women accepted it as just and normal. It was an unshakable belief that sexual assault or rape happened only to those women who transgressed and had somehow invited the crime by virtue of some inappropriate behaviour. To believe otherwise was to admit to the possibility that it could happen to anyone and that was simply not on!
MIDNIGHT AT MARBLE ARCH is easy to recommend - an enjoyable, gripping historical mystery by an author that most readers would characterize as a master of the genre.
“Human beings have been eagerly devouring notions of evil and horror since we dwelt in caves and jumped at the shadows and noises occurring just outsi“Human beings have been eagerly devouring notions of evil and horror since we dwelt in caves and jumped at the shadows and noises occurring just outside the comforting range of firelight.”
“Canadians, especially, have always been concerned with notions of what lies beyond our normal existence.”
In ONLY MONSTERS IN THE BUILDING, author Mark Leslie went to great lengths to assure readers who shared his concerns that while paranormals might be creatures that inhabit that realm beyond our normality, they are definitely people too. People, in fact, with all the frustrations, foibles, fears, and failings that we “normals” deal with everyday in our lives. And, in crafting his cast of what Leslie characterized as “supernatural misfits (a studious fairy, a vegan vampire, a shy mermaid, a clingy werecat, and an extroverted troll)”, he also crafted a clever mystery and a brilliant master class in “show, don’t tell” character development!
How did he do it??
ONLY MONSTERS IN THE BUILDING is effectively a novel length reproduction of conversations in a series of therapy sessions between a confused patient (distressed werewolf and definitely paranormal though he may be) and his therapist. But Leslie has managed to alternate those periods of the eponymous Canadian Werewolf Michael Andrews’ directed self-examination with chapters of real-time interaction with the rest of his fellow abnormal paranormals in a cozy locked-room style murder mystery that makes the entire package genuinely enthralling, entertaining, humorous, and compelling.
Leslie’s development of Michael Andrews’ skills as an author and his personality and back story may not constitute a birth to present day autobiography (I mean … how could it? Andrews IS a werewolf after all!). But the extent to which Leslie injects himself into the Michael Andrews persona would please even the likes of Charles Dickens, author of the classic DAVID COPPERFIELD. The novel is absolutely jam-packed with film, music, television, and 20th century cultural references that reflect Leslie’s love of the world he lived in as he grew up. He even managed to sneak in a few cheeky references to his own writing by attributing it to work in Andrews’ bibliography. Fairy Ellie’s gushing praise of SILENT SCREAMS, Michael Andrews’ first and wildly undersold and distinctly unpopular first novel, was in fact a stand-in for one of Leslie’s earlier collection of short stories, ONE HAND SCREAMING which he prefaced with this comment concerning his propensity to mentally collect everyday occurrences for use in his writing,
“Silent screams bounce around inside my head like an impending storm brewing into a force that will escape in a wild dance of chaos and be lost forever if I don’t stop to jot them down.”
If you’ve got more time and patience than you know what to do with, perhaps you might want to re-read ONLY MONSTERS IN THE BUILDING with a view to snagging and listing all of the cultural references or Leslie’s meta-references to his own previous novels, novellas and short stories. An aspiring future scholar of English literature might choose to use that as in a Masters or PhD thesis after Leslie has attained classic status as a horror humorist.
Definitely recommended as one of my Top Ten favourites for this year.
Paul Weiss
P.S. Recommended that is with the very strong caveat that this is NOT a stand-alone novel and would make very little sense without an understanding of the Canadian Werewolf back story. But, fret not, do yourself a favour a go back to A CANADIAN WEREWOLF IN NEW YORK, #1 in the series. You're in for a real treat!...more
“She was a slut, she was loud and crass, and she had the attention span of an insect … but she was so good, so much fun to have around.”
This was o“She was a slut, she was loud and crass, and she had the attention span of an insect … but she was so good, so much fun to have around.”
This was obviously not a murder victim it was easy to get a read on! But DCI Erika Foster, a young widow still in mourning, recovering from the untimely murder of her husband, and dealing with her own personal demons, is on the job and on the hunt for a relentless serial killer.
THE GIRL IN THE ICE is a gripping suspense thriller with a well-crafted compelling and suitably bizarre and gruesome plot. How could one fail to be drawn in by the death of young wealthy socialite followed by a series of three prostitute murders in which the victims were found hog-tied and strangled with the corpses unceremoniously dumped in bodies of water around the city of London? But, more than that, it’s also a brilliant, personality-driven series debut with a masterful “show, don’t tell” bit of character development that will serve as the superb foundation for what is obviously going to be an exciting series to follow.
Definitely recommended. DCI Erika Foster is obviously a character with plenty of literary mileage to come that will appeal to lovers of the suspense thriller and police procedural genres. I’m definitely looking forward to the second novel in the series, THE NIGHT STALKER.
“If you are interested in reading a story filled with thrillingly good times, I am sorry to inform you that you are most certainly reading the wron“If you are interested in reading a story filled with thrillingly good times, I am sorry to inform you that you are most certainly reading the wrong book”
Count Olaf’s nefarious plans for a marriage with Violet Baudelaire and the theft of the children’s inherited wealth were foiled in A BAD BEGINNING and THE REPTILE ROOM, BOOK THE SECOND. Mr Poe remains blind and hopelessly insensitive to the children’s danger and Count Olaf proves that, while he was down, he most certainly isn’t out. He continues to lust for the children’s bankroll. The children’s hopes for a safe and comfortable life with an elderly aunt who is a relentlessly pedantic grammar Nazi aunt terrified of everything from doorknobs to telephones are, of course, dashed on the rocks of continuing “unfortunate events” including, for goodness’ sake, being handed over to the “guardianship” of the Count.
Snicket’s unique, dare I say bizarre, stylistic hook, the interminable offerings of doom and gloom to a most delightful family of children continues to work and exudes a very puzzling kind of charm. The children’s love for one another and their endearing ability to squirm their way through the tiniest of holes and the tightest of fixes is quite heartwarming.
A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS is definitely recommended for both children and for young at heart adult readers who enjoy dipping their toes into lighter fare from to time. On an even more positive note, I will commend Snicket’s writing style as being very “grown-up” in tone, never patronizing or condescending to young readers for even a microsecond and, in the bargain, quite educational and useful for building a young person’s vocabulary of more “adult” words.
A horrifying psychological thriller that rivals Truman Capote’s true-crime masterpiece IN COLD BLOOD!
Three young teenage girl friends, sworn to eternaA horrifying psychological thriller that rivals Truman Capote’s true-crime masterpiece IN COLD BLOOD!
Three young teenage girl friends, sworn to eternal secrecy under a blood pact, commit a brutal mass murder and enter what most Canadians think of as a very flawed young offender justice system.
Rick Mofina, now definitely on my list of favourite thriller authors (with special kudos to his being a fellow Canadian), has crafted a high-speed thriller that took me into the proverbial wee hours and refused to allow me to set it down. Grisly mass murder, social work, suicide, dysfunctional families, wealth vs poverty, young offenders, legal and police procedures, jurisdictional issues, forensics and technology, psychology, revenge … THEIR LAST SECRET has it all. An extraordinarily easy 5-star recommendation and a solid addition to my Top Ten 2024 Favourites list.
“Every war that’s ever been waged, every revolution that’s ever been launched, every assassination, every social upheaval – it’s always because som“Every war that’s ever been waged, every revolution that’s ever been launched, every assassination, every social upheaval – it’s always because somebody hated somebody or something!”
For a significant portion of Jeff Cottrill’s intriguing novel, my left-wing proclivities had convinced me that he was lampooning MAGA Trumpster’s and the global flirtation with far right-wing fascism and the specific variations on “hatred” they favour – misogyny, homophobia, racism, and xenophobia, for example. But, ultimately, I was forced to chide my sanctimonious self and grudgingly (but honestly) admit that hatred was hardly unique to a particular portion of the world’s political spectrum. That is to say then that HATE STORY is a book length satirical moral tale and hard-hitting diatribe against the disgusting evils of hatred with particular emphasis on online vigilantes, cyber-bullying and cyber-stalking.
Cottrill’s biting satire and critical revelation of how easy it can be to fall into the role of anonymous keyboard warrior and social media troll should cause any reader to swallow hard and consider whether they had ever been guilty of letting that ugly side of their own human nature loose upon the world. A brilliant literary debut, HATE STORY is a shocking, fresh, and gripping high speed tale that will leave you with a very hard lump in your throat and plenty of fodder for post-reading consideration.
“Perhaps the best civility, whatever kind of people we are brought up among … is to mind our own business.”
Edwin Drood is a young man betrothed to“Perhaps the best civility, whatever kind of people we are brought up among … is to mind our own business.”
Edwin Drood is a young man betrothed to Rosa Bud in a marriage arranged many years earlier by their fathers. But their feelings toward one another seem to rest in a triangle cornered by uncertainty, ambivalence, or at best platonic friendship. Their meetings typically end in childish bickering and their future marriage seems destined for a loveless failure. Drood’s acquaintance, Neville Landless, on the other hand is entirely smitten by Rosa but Landless knows that his feelings are unrecognized and as a result unacknowledged and unrequited. When Edwin Drood disappears and is presumed to have been murdered, the suspicions of the community naturally lean toward Landless who, in order to remove himself from the dangers of potential prosecution as a murderer, goes on a cross country tramp of uncertain length and destination. In the meantime, Rosa’s music master, Mr Jasper, a cad addicted to opium and a good deal less than a gentleman with honourable intentions, takes advantage of Drood’s absence to advance an unwelcome suit and to push his own lust for Rosa who flees from her boarding school to the hoped for safety of her guardian’s care.
SPOILER ALERT (kinda!!): (From Wikipedia), “Upon the death of Dickens on 9 June 1870, the novel was left unfinished in his writing desk, only six of a planned twelve instalments having been written. He left no detailed plan for the remaining instalments or solution to the novel's mystery, and many later adaptations and continuations by other writers have attempted to complete the story.”
It seems obvious, and perhaps pointlessly self-referential, to suggest that THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD is typically Dickensian in its atmosphere, its character development, and its verbose and loquacious use of lengthy sentences and paragraphs where a couple of words might have served. Dickens fans will eat it up … I certainly did! But, unfortunately, my pique at being left with my appetite for a solution to the mystery unsated, I finished the half-novel feeling a little disgruntled. Doubtless that contributed to my miserly 3-star rating whereas, if finished, it might have earned 4 or 5 stars like the rest of his work.
“I must say you’ve gone native. You look the quintessential cliché of a Canadian in that get up”
Notwithstanding the fact that the 1940s version of“I must say you’ve gone native. You look the quintessential cliché of a Canadian in that get up”
Notwithstanding the fact that the 1940s version of “quintessentially Canadian” wouldn’t have included mental pictures of a scruffy hoser sporting a toque and red buffalo plaid jacket and gripping a frosty bottle of beer and a hockey stick, Lane Winslow probably took her friend’s comment as a tribute to the progress she had made leaving her experience as an officer in British Intelligence during the war behind and going Canadian. But her expertise in solving puzzles, her linguistic abilities, her warming relationship with a police detective, and the western world’s post-WW II relations with Stalin quickly chilling into the mid-20th century Cold War forced her onto center stage in the matter of the death (murder?) of a Russian man in a harmless local Doukhobor community.
“There was the obvious physical beauty of her dark eyes and auburn hair, of course, but the allure of her intelligence and hidden depths of resourcefulness and maybe even sadness added something, he decided, that perhaps was not found in … his current girl.”
Character development, historical ambience, and local colour are all first rate. Consider, for example, a bank manager’s condescending misogynistic response to Ms Winslow’s attempts to open a bank account with a cheque which she had received by way of an unexpected inheritance from her deceased father:
“ ‘It is most unusual to conduct such business with a woman. I would feel a lot more comfortable if you had a husband to take care of these affairs for you’, he said now with a slight air of disapproval.”
Whishaw portrayed Lane Winslow’s grudging acceptance of this disheartening reality brilliantly.
That said, it is probably believed by most readers of the mystery genre that such novels, of necessity, require a plot. In this regard, DEATH IN A DARKENING MIST was slow and overly lengthy. The actual mystery and its ultimate resolution fell somewhere between mildly disappointing and merely pedestrian and workmanlike.
So there you have it, four stars for the characters and the background and two stars for the plot, so we’ll call it a 3-star mystery overall that still leaves me as a Lane Winslow fan looking forward to the third installment in the series, AN OLD, COLD GRAVE.
Cait Morgan, a Welsh Canadian university professor and esteemed criminologist, is on her way to a w“Aha … you are the Canadian … you speak oddly!”
Cait Morgan, a Welsh Canadian university professor and esteemed criminologist, is on her way to a well-earned dream vacation at a Mexican beach resort with her new squeeze, Bud Anderson. But, of course, THE CORPSE WITH THE EMERALD THUMB is a mystery novel so it is a given that murder is in the wings and will enter the drama at the earliest opportunity.
Bud has been “captured” by the local constabulary at the scene of the murder of a local popular florist with his bloody hands quite literally around the victim’s neck. Of course, it falls to Cait to prove Bud’s innocence and to sleuth her way to the identity of the actual murderer before Bud – held in a local jail for the duration of the novel - is turned over to the “federales” and consigned to the bleak confines of a Mexican prison.
THE CORPSE WITH THE EMERALD THUMB is very much a Poirot-esque character driven mystery. Seasoning her presentation with a modicum of romantic suspense and a modest serving of history, author Ace dutifully follows the “rules of the road” for a cozy mystery – a reasonably limited number of contenders for the killer’s identity; all of the clues necessary are presented at some point in the narrative; and the final solution is revealed in a drawing room style presentation with the entire cast (including the murderer, of course) present for the ultimate reveal.
An enjoyable well executed mystery and a workmanlike addition to the growing Cait Morgan series.
In his foreword, Deaver continues, “To me, that big oh-my-God surprise is what short stories are a“The title of my anthologies is no coincidence.”
In his foreword, Deaver continues, “To me, that big oh-my-God surprise is what short stories are all about.”
When I gave a 5-star review to TWISTED, Deaver’s first collection of this type of short story and novellas, I recognized his skill at producing his pre-announced surprise endings that were absolutely expected from the first word in the story but both unknown and unknowable in their reality until Deaver pulled back the curtain for that final reveal. I also complimented his mature skills as an author in putting these twists into such a polished literary setting,
“Deaver brings to the short story all the sophisticated skills that have been the foundation of his success as a novelist. He has a gift for dialogue, vivid characterization and suspense and his stories show deep insight into the emotions, the motivations, the fears and the love and happiness of his widely varied cast of characters. Despite its fundamentally gritty nature, his writing shows uncommonly refreshing humour and a capacity to convey deep feeling.”
Unfortunately MORE TWISTED might have been more accurately entitled LESS TWISTED. The writing skill, the dialogue, the characterization, and the suspense were all there but those endings were, not to put too fine a point on it, simply less convincing, less shocking, less satisfying, and, well, less twisted. I don’t think I’d go quite so far as to say they were predictable but they came disappointingly close. The anthology, in its entirety, was moderately enjoyable but came nowhere near producing the delight that I felt with that first effort.
“Dr Lefebre’s interest, his business, is insanity. He is an alienist.”
One supposes it was just time. With no undue ceremony, Lizzie Martin and her Aun“Dr Lefebre’s interest, his business, is insanity. He is an alienist.”
One supposes it was just time. With no undue ceremony, Lizzie Martin and her Aunt Parry, with whom Lizzie resides, have reached the clear mutual agreement that their relationship has passed its best-by date and it is time for Lizzie to move on in her life.
Aunt Parry (with Lizzie’s best virginal interests as a proper young lady at heart, of course) has arranged for her to make the trip out of London to a small forested enclave on the coast. She is to assume the position of paid companion to Lucy Craven, the young married niece of the wealthy Roche family. Mrs Craven was “not long since delivered of her first child but sadly the infant died after only two days.” The proverbial fly in the ointment? Suffering from what seems to be a serious case of post-partum depression (up to and including what the family feels may reach into insanity), Mrs Craven refuses to accept that her child is actually deceased. The family has engaged a prominent “alienist” who operates a nearby asylum to assess the situation.
“Please try not to use the word “loss” when you speak to her … She won’t accept the baby’s dead and if you talk as if it is, she gets very agitated … This is a very – very unhealthy house … That’s my feeling about it all.”
A rather gothic foundation for a mystery, if I may say so, that I thought rather reminiscent of Count Fosco and his dastardly manipulation of Anne Catherick, the mentally frail eponymous heroine of Wilkie Collins’ classic THE WOMAN IN WHITE.
What has to this point in the story merely been a well-staged and cleverly established late Victorian atmospheric character drama is now set to move into high gear as a full out murder mystery. A local ne’er-do-well rat-catcher is brutally murdered, Lucy Craven is found delirious beside the body covered with his blood, and Ben Ross, Lizzie Martin’s erstwhile sweetheart back "home" in London and a promising rising star in the ranks of Scotland Yard’s detectives, is brought in to solve the murder. Well, we all know what Sherlock Holmes would have had to say about that!
Kudos to author Ann Granger for creating a story in which Lizzie Martin’s brainpower and amateur sleuthing abilities are given room to shine without completely overshadowing and embarrassing her detective “partner” Ben Ross. A MORTAL CURIOSITY has everything one would expect of a first rate mystery – atmosphere; solid character development; clever, convincing dialogue; twists, turns, red herrings and clues to help out us baffled readers; plus plenty of interesting commentary on Victorian married life, romantic pre-nuptial relationships and the stuffiness of Victorian social practices and class divisions.
Definitely enjoyable from first to last and easy to recommend to lovers of the historical mystery genre.
Genocidal monster or Serbian war hero? History, of course, is written by the winners!
Ladies and gentlemen, meet THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB - Lindsay BoxeGenocidal monster or Serbian war hero? History, of course, is written by the winners!
Ladies and gentlemen, meet THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB - Lindsay Boxer, police sergeant and homicide detective; Yuki Castellano, prosecutor and assistant district attorney; Claire Washburn, medical examiner and forensic scientist; Cindy Thomas, writer and investigative journalist. Their novels are as predictably formulaic as the proverbial Hallmark movie but that formula (as of the writing of THE 18TH ABDUCTION) is working like a well-oiled high speed machine so don’t expect authors Paetro and Patterson to be breaking the pattern any time soon.
Think of a WMC novel as a mash-up of two or three novellas or short stories, each involving one of the WMC ladies as a lead protagonist – a murder, trial or legal issue, medical drama, rape, breaking news story, kidnapping, bombing, arson, social issue … you get the idea. The stories weave in and out of one another in real time to produce a single larger novel but the interaction between stories is typically minor, incidental, or coincidental.
Sprinkle in a generous helping of personal issues interrupting the ladies’ professional lives – marital difficulties; flagging sex lives; questions of professional integrity or self esteem; pregnancy; professional discord in their employment; divorce or separation; commitment; changing personal objectives; morality … once again, all pretty predictable stuff!
Last but not least, toss in at least one or two coffee klatch, dinner and drinks, or purely pub meetings over booze during which the ladies meet and discuss their issues and brainstorm potential ideas and solutions with one another.
In a pretty real sense, if you’ve read one WMC novel, you’ve read them all but, darn it, they’re entertaining as hell, they manage to be quite gripping, and THE 18TH ABDUCTION is no exception to this astonishing string of successes. The story lines in this one? First, three teachers from a prestigious preparatory school, with no apparent common denominator have gone missing while out together. The clock is ticking and their deaths by excruciating torture seem inevitable as time passes. Second, a more political meta-story focused on the apprehension of a war criminal living free and easy in the USA spotted by a refugee from the Serbian genocide.
His “true self suddenly awakened … trying to claw its way, biting and scratching, out of a deep, dark closet.”
In many respects, FLIGHT OF AQUAVIT is aHis “true self suddenly awakened … trying to claw its way, biting and scratching, out of a deep, dark closet.”
In many respects, FLIGHT OF AQUAVIT is a typical private investigator mystery – blackmail, ambushes, attempted murder, decoys and deceit, twists and turns, romance, and red herrings. Well written, well conceived, fast-paced easy reading and thoroughly enjoyable.
BUT (and here’s the trigger warning), the LGBTQ theme is absolutely relentless to the point of nearly overpowering the story itself. (In all fairness, Russell Quant IS a gay detective and I’m sure the power of the theme was absolutely intentional and intended to convey a message). If you find that to be the least bit distasteful, then perhaps you ought to question whether you have genuinely dispensed with your own closeted homophobia. After all, I put it to you that you would not be the least disturbed by reading a Sandra Brown hot and heavy romance thriller that is peppered with heterosexual innuendo and interludes.
Think about it!
AMUSE BOUCHE and TAPAS ON THE RAMBLAS, other titles in the Ray Quant series have definitely been added to my future reading list.
He “always was a bit too clever. Trouble is, he wasn’t clever enough to pretend to be a little less clever.”
If a member of the Victorian gentry, the He “always was a bit too clever. Trouble is, he wasn’t clever enough to pretend to be a little less clever.”
If a member of the Victorian gentry, the upper levels of the moneyed class, were alive today to read Anne Perry’s PARAGON WALK, I wonder if they would appreciate the extent to which they were parodied, satirized, critiqued, and downright vilified. The levels of class snobbery, self-righteousness, self-entitlement, misogyny, racism, xenophobia, and anti-Semitism were, to put it mildly, off the charts. Oh, to be sure, there actually was a murder (a few actually … in fact there was even a rather vicious rape of a young woman) and a mystery for Charlotte and Thomas Pitt to chew on and solve but I think those minor details took distant second place to Ms Perry’s brilliant characterization of life with hereditary money in Victorian England.
On the tightly controlled norms of behaviour, for example:
“Without the discipline of work, they had invented the discipline of etiquette, and it had become just as ruthless a master.”
The undeniable xenophobia:
“The Frenchman … was there, if indeed he were French? Perhaps he came from one of the African colonies? He was far too smooth, too wry and subtle to be from the great wind-and-snow-driven plains of Canada.”
Victims of sexual assault and rape were seen as flirts or, worse yet, sluts and women of loose virtue, who were themselves to blame for the attack by virtue of their flagrantly sexualized behaviour. Men? Well, it was clear that men would be men and would behave no differently than was expected of them!
And a most shocking conversation on the Church of England’s Christian version of anti-Semitism:
“Who is he?” … “Why – he’s a Jew!” she said “Yes, so you said.” … “Do you approve of Jews, Mrs. Pitt?” “Wasn’t Christ one?” “Really, Mrs Pitt!” Lady Tamworth shook with outrage. “I accept that the younger generation has different standards from our own … but I cannot tolerate blasphemy. Really, I can’t!” “That is not blasphemy, Lady Tamworth … Christ was a Jew.” “Christ was God, Mrs Pitt,” Lady Tamworth said icily. “And God is most certainly not a Jew!”
Theological considerations aside, I thought that quite a jaw-dropping bit of conversation.
But, but … what about the fact that PARAGON WALK is a historical murder mystery? Well, as I said, the murder was there and it did get solved satisfactorily but that story definitely took second place to the superbly character driven description of Victorian society and morality.
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