Armand Gamache did not want to have to be brave. Not anymore. Now all he wanted was to be at peace. But, like Clara, he knew he could not have one without the other. [p. 42]

After finishing the first big arc in the Gamache series last December (with How the Light Gets In) I had been saving the rest of the series for this winter: but unseasonably poor weather enticed me to read the next book. It was like coming into a warm room after a long cold journey: the familiar characters, the emotional honesty, the humour, the intricacies of crime.

... it was such a surreal experience being up there among the leaves, in that green inhuman world. I felt completely other. I didn't belong. [loc. 1123]

The year is 1973. Dr Simon Corbett, entomologist, is forty-two and in need of a fresh start after the death of his beloved Penelope. An expedition into the depths of the Mexican rainforest, hoping to find new species of mantid, seems just the thing. But Simon can't help blaming himself for Penelope's death, and he's haunted by memories of her. Discovering (he didn't read the paperwork) that the expedition he's joining has an archaeological focus, he's indignant: but despite not believing in life after death, he's beguiled by the secrets of the Maya, and fascinated with the local indigenous people ('Indians') descended from them.

.. "Dear fellow!
What's your next work?" "A novel..." "Great!
We hope that you, dear Mr Seth--"
"In verse," I added. He turned yellow.
"How marvellously quaint," he said,
And subsequently cut me dead. [stanza 5.1]

Seth's verse novel, The Golden Gate
should really be reviewed in rhyme.
A story told in lines of eight
or nine syllables: worth your time.
A tale of love, protest and cats:
and death, and homophobia -- that's
the nineteen eighties for you, in
fair San Francisco, shrine to sin.( Read more... )

“I didn’t do anything.” In a whisper this time.
Lucy nods. “Right. But what’d they say you were going to do?” [loc. 400]

Historian Sara Hussein, returning from a conference in London and eager to see her husband and their two small children, is detained by authorities at LAX. Her risk score -- the likelihood of her committing a crime in the near future -- has been calculated as over 500, marking her as a potential threat to her family. She's sent to a retention centre ('not a prison or a jail') known as Madison, for 21 days of forensic observation.

Nearly a year later, she's still there.

There are several contributory factors to Sara's 'retention': she's Moroccan-American, and she was impatient with the airport security officers. Most significantly, though, she has a Dreamsaver implant, which improves sleep quality and depth (invaluable for a mother of young children) -- and also (as mentioned in the small print of the EULA) records the dreams of the user. That data is just one of the two hundred inputs to the Risk Assessment Administration's crime-prediction algorithm.( Read more... )

"They kept themselves safe from the faceless ones. They warded them off. Whereas now... now the faceless ones are not a metaphor at all. Now they are real. Real men, whose faces have been shot or torn or burnt away, by other men ... [loc. 1699]

The setting is (mostly) the Sussex village of Haltington in the aftermath of WW1. Florence Stock has come to live with Dr Manning, her widowed brother-in-law who's the vicar of Haltington, and her teenage niece Phoebe. Kit Clayton, home from Paris after a year or so of creating lifelike tin and enamel masks for facially disfigured men, has moved into the Bone House: not as macabre as it sounds, but the former home of the Bone family, now extinct. 

Neanderthals were prone to depression, he said.
He said they were prone to addiction, too, and especially smoking. [first line]

That opening hooked me, though it's not exactly indicative of the novel as a whole... Sadie Smith (not her real name) is thirty-four, a heavy drinker, a former FBI operative now employed as a translator for Bruno Lacombe, an ageing revolutionary who lives in a cave and communicates with his disciple Pascal Balmy by email. ( Read more... )

He was not good; had never aspired to be good. He had only ever wanted to be a jolly good fellow, and to be too good, like Percy, destroyed all chance of ever being jolly. Percy would have pulled the covers up over his head before he ever let his host’s wife kiss him, let alone kissed his host. [loc. 621]

A refreshing and sweet novella, setting Gawain and the Green Knight in wartime Britain. The squadron drink at the Green Dragon, and one night a man in green appears...

Gawain chats to the Bertilaks about crime novels and the Blitz; kisses his hostess, and then his host; and returns (or is returned) to his squadron with a green armband, because he has 'been raised with a great belief in magic' and is disinclined to refuse a gift that confers protection. And when the Bertilaks come visiting (with a gift of wild boar, which hasn't been hunted in Britain for four centuries) he confronts them with his anger and grief that it was just a game...

A delightful read, which I wish I'd read at Christmas! The updated setting works very well, and Gawain is vulnerable, likeable and better at talking about his feelings than the original. But then, it is a different time.