The Robber Bride, by Margaret Atwood

4 stars

A deeply interesting story of four women - detached and intellectual Tony, flaky earth child Charis, gregarious businesswoman Roz, and the mysterious, cunning and manipulative Zenia. All four were at college together and years later Tony, Charis and Roz are still friends despite having nothing in common - nothing but their hatred of Zenia.

It wasn't always that way, as we discover when we sift through the women's histories and find out how they came to be who they are and then watch Zenia, in the guise of friendship, find their weak spots, insinuate herself into their lives and then leave with their men, and more.

Any allusions to the Robber Bridegroom, the Grimm fairytale that this was apparently inspired by, were lost on me (probably as I haven't read the Robber Bridegroom) but it really didn't matter. Even if some of the female types feel like those of a generation I don't belong to, and their men thoroughly undeserving of their love (I tend to think Zenia was actually doing them a favour when it came to the men in their lives, although that was definitely not her motivation) I thoroughly enjoyed this incisive and compelling take on the complexities of female relationships.

The Lies of Locke Lamora, by Scott Lynch

4.5 stars

I've been itching to get my hands on this one for a while now, based solely on the titles alone. It turns out that if David Mamet had a book-baby with Joe Abercrombie, The Lies of Locke Lamora would be the result. As I have a bit of a thing for witty gobshites with a loose approach to common morality and love to get lost in a well-realised, fantasy world, this is a very, very good thing.

A slightly built orphan with a forgettable face, Locke Lamora doesn't have much going for him in the way of strength, social standing, or sword skills. He does, however, have a mind that is sharper than most and, luckily, was snatched up young from a life of petty street thievery and taken under the tutelage of one Father Chains - apparent blind priest of the Order of Perelandro and actual mentor to a gang of budding con artists, The Gentleman Bastards.

A fantastic city built on the ruins left behind by an elder race, Camorr is mostly ruled over by the nobles who are kept safe from the depredations of its many criminals through the Secret Peace, engineered and enforced by the ruthless crime-lord Capa Barsavi. Well, they're mostly kept safe, anyhow. Safe from everyone but the Gentleman Bastards, who frequently use their own greed to relieve them of large portions of their fortunes. But as their latest scheme comes to the attention of the secret police and Capa Barsavi's criminal empire comes under threat from the serial-killing Gray King, Locke and his Gentleman Bastards are going to need every last one of his wits if they, and Camorr, are to survive. It's a good thing he's got more than a few moves...

With a clever, twisty plot, a conniving main character that I really enjoyed, a superb surrounding cast of characters (including a pair of shark-fighting twin sisters and the lovely Jean Tannen, who's the heart of the Bastards if you ask me), genuinely formidable villains and some moments of real emotion (Bug! Eep...), I enjoyed the hell out of this. And with a few things left unresolved (I need to meet Sabetha now, please, and am intrigued by what may have been before Camorr), I imagine I'll be enjoying the hell out of the second in the series very, very soon.

Take This Job and Shove It

We all have those days where we fantasize about the looks on our colleagues faces as we spectacularly end our careers (or is that just me?), whether through a satisfyingly scathing resignation or behaviour so appalling you need to be frogmarched from the building. So, for those of us who'd love to do so but are unable thanks to a need to eat occasionally, I give you my favourite on-screen career enders.


Role Models

It would be bad enough having to consume enough energy drinks to turn your pee green, without then having to go and talk to kids about how your drink is way better than drugs. But having to do it on the same day as being dumped is just asking to be unemployed.

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Bruce Almighty

Being passed over for promotion is bad enough. Finding out about it on-air is a recipe for a firing.

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Spaced

Some people have no taste. When it's your boss, you may have to find yourself pretending you share those shitty tastes. At least until you don't want to work there anymore.

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Bridesmaids

As someone who hates most people, a career in customer service is most definitely not for me. I imagine most of my interactions would end like this.

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The Wire

The only thing more satisfying than punching the prick who's made your work-life hell, is knowing that he's also your father-in-law (unembeddable so click pic).

Breaking Bad

Sometimes it takes finding out you've got cancer to inspire the best insults.

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Wanted

You have to admit, this would be an incredibly satisfying way to leave your hated job.

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American  Beauty

The only thing better than telling your boss what you really think, is doing that and then blackmailing the bastard.

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Fight Club

Or you could do the above, but with added violence and reputation ruining. This clip is edited, unfortunately, so you're just going to have to watch Fight Club again to see it in full.

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Trainspotting

Of course, it's much better to simply avoid having to take the bloody job in the first place.

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So, what did I miss?

Murder at the Vicarage, by Agatha Christie

3 stars

When I was a kid, I read a lot of Agatha Christie – although, racking my brain, it’s telling me that the ones I read mostly featured Hercule Poirot, and so I’m fairly certain that this was my first Miss Marple. And you know what? I really quite enjoyed it! This probably means that it’s finally time for me to hang up my leather jacket and put on a twinset instead.

St Mary Mead is a small village where nothing much happens – or so it initially seems. But when Colonel Protheroe is found murdered in the vicarage study – a death that has been expressly wished for by most people inhabiting the village as the Colonel is a deeply unpleasant and irritating man – everyone’s finally got something to talk about. And in a case littered with multiple confessions, red herrings and police who’ll happily discuss the important facts of the case with anyone who’s interested – even going so far as to let some of them take the investigative lead – it’s down to the village busy-body to use her powers of nosiness to sort it all out.

While there are a few flaws – we don’t really see any action at all, but are rather told about it afterwards as characters narrate their witness  statements to others, and it’s not really a mystery you can play along with to solve yourself, due to lacking many facts (unlike Miss Marple, who knows everything, and who can also be quite the cutting bitch at times, something I wholeheartedly approve of) – it was solidly entertaining, helped no doubt by the rather snarky vicar who is our narrator.

These aren’t must-read books by any stretch of the imagination, but in a week of being woken before dawn by my diva-like cats, it was a cosy and undemanding enough way to spend some time.

Runemarks, by Joanne Harris

2 stars

“Seven o'clock, on a Monday morning, five hundred years after the end of the world, and goblins had been at the cellar again...”

With an opening line like that and the blurb promising Norse gods, Runemarks had the potential to become one of my new favourite books. Potential that it then squandered as it edged really, really, really slowly towards its confusing and chaotic end.

Teenaged Maddy Smith lives in the village of Malbry, in a world in which Ragnarok really happened. With the old gods dead or forgotten, they’ve now been replaced by The Order, an Inquisition-like bunch of religious zealots that presides over a suspicious and unimaginative population, making sure that it is regularly ‘cleansed’ of undesirables such as those with runes upon their skin, like Maddy.

Whilst ostracised and sneered upon by her neighbours, Maddy hasn’t yet been murdered by them and so spends her time working low-level rune magic to keep the cellars clear of the goblins that have been increasing in number. But then her old friend One-Eye (ooh, wonder who that might be, wondered no-one ever) sends her into Red Horse Hill on a quest for some treasure, setting her on the path to adventure – one in which she’ll encounter more not-dead gods, sort-of-dead gods, and gods-who-were-dead-but-then-got-better, severed heads and other dimensions, attempt to thwart prophecies, find out who she really is, and save the Nine Worlds from ending.

I enjoyed the early part of the book and the world and magic system that was set up – even the fingering (fnar!) that the practice of magic through runes required that makes anyone taking part in a battle look like they’ve got to the finger-tutting part of their breakdancing routine.

Sadly, instead of my enjoyment increasing once we got involved with the gods, it all went rather downhill from the moment Maddy entered Red Horse Hill, and while a lot happened on her trek through the Underworld and into others – far much to go into here – reading it felt rather like wading through treacle and seemed to take aeons to get through. The gods were all well presented – especially Loki, who gets all of the charm and the best lines (although I have to fear for the intelligence of a heroine who puts her trust in, and is always taken aback when someone known as a liar and who’s even referred to throughout as the Trickster, turns out to be a liar), but Norse mythology can be slightly confusing at the best of times and this wasn’t helped as Maddie’s quest progressed and we starting bumping up against the realms of Chaos and Dream. I understand that Chaos and Dream are, well, chaotic and dreamlike, but towards the end it got so chaotic that it soon became the reading equivalent of this:

Sometimes it’s not about the destination, but the journey. In this case, I should have probably stayed at home.

The Pearl, by John Steinbeck

3.5 stars

Even the simplest of John Steinbeck’s stories carry a timeless power, and The Pearl is no exception. 

Apparently the re-telling of a Mexican folk-tale, here we meet fisherman Kino and his family. When Kino’s baby, Coyotito, is stung by a scorpion, they are turned away by the avaricious doctor that resides in town due to their lack of money. Then Kino finds a great pearl, as big as a seagull egg, and everything changes. As those around him try to chisel some fortune for themselves out of his luck, or cheat him of it entirely, Kino becomes harder, prouder and fearful for his family – and with good reason.

An effective parable illustrating how capitalism only really benefits the few, while the rest of us are chewed up and spat back out, Steinbeck should be mandatory reading for everyone who puts profit before people.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone, by Laini Taylor

3 stars

Daughter of Smoke and Bone is exactly the sort of book title that makes my fingers want to start flinging cash at book stores. Add that everyone and their aunt seems to have had a fit of the wibbles when it comes to this trilogy, and you can easily see why I’ve finally succumbed.

The mysterious Karou is a 17 year-old art student, studying in Prague. Her hair grows blue, her tattoos are ever changing, and she claims the fantastical characters that populate the pages of her notebooks are her family. She’s not lying, either. Frequently disappearing on errands for Brimstone, the chimaera wishmonger who’s raised her as his own, Karou isn’t really sure what happens with all of the teeth she’s sent to collect. Nor is she sure how the wishes she’s always using have come to be. But when mysterious black handprints start appearing on the doors to Elsewhere, the place she was raised, and Karou comes face to face with an angel apparently set on killing her, she’s set on a path where she’ll not only find the answers to these questions, but that of who she really is.

I absolutely adored the first half of this book – Taylor writes beautifully and imbues her world with a fairytale magic that is hard to resist. I loved the chimaera and the idea of magical currency, and the settings were also imbued with a fantastical, romantic air. Sadly, that wasn’t to last, and as soon as Karou came eye to cartoon-heart-filled eye with the angel Akiva, a little of the magic was lost for me. As the setting of the story got more fantastic and we found out more about Elsewhere, Karou’s back story and the centuries long war between the chimaera and the seraphim, what should have sent me spinning off into the stratosphere with the awesomeness of it all (a heroine with horns and bat-wings? Hell, yeah!) soon had me plummeting into another-sodding-romance annoyance as the love story took over as the primary focus.

It’s probably my fault as the reader for not properly reading the synopsis or any reviews before plunging in, as it’s certainly not Taylor’s writing which, as I said, is beautiful. Given another story (with less focus on romance) I could even become a bit of a fan. It’s just not going to be this story.