astrangerhere's Reviews (1.31k)

I preferred the first half of the book to the second, where i felt the frenetic pacing and "action" bits overshadowed the story a bit. I'll be continuing with Mr. Rebus though to see what happens.

"His eyes beheld beauty not in reality but in the printed word. Standing in the waiting-room, he realized that in his life he had accepted secondary experience -- the experience of reading someone else's thoughts -- over real life."

Quite as good as the first collection, and entertaining as always. Its been a number of years since this has been done, I'd like to see another collection of Sherlockania soon.

Rankin broke out of his formula nicely and I am thoroughly enjoying Mr. Rebus now.

Religious cults, heroin and even a few homosexuals thrown in for good measure in a book originally published in 1936. And yet, none of it felt dated or campy, save for a few turns of phrases here or there.

"Well put that on your needles and knit it."

Pretty good, a little formulaic, and I miss Rebus' introspection. It seems to come and go depending on the plot of the book.

Bartlett is a journalist playing at being a storyteller - lucky for me, her the facts and characters in her story overcame her stilted narration. The narrative itself meandered, wandered even, from place to place. I expect better from a journalist who would be expected to write in consecutive peices.
But the characters and their immersion in the rare book world saved the book for me. The people, trivia and quotes that littered this layman's education in the world of rare book collection made plodding through bland portions of the text worth the trouble.

I'm sad I can't give this 3.5 stars. The story was engaging in that way that it was a trainwreck you couldn't look away from. I ejoyed the closing plot twist, which I did not see coming. My only complaint was that there was not enough Mary Shelley and some of the characters were not fully realized, though given the ending, I can understand why. The ending itself, however, was terribly abrupt.

I went into this book being unfamiliar with Connelley or his Harry Bosh books. All I knew of him was that he was a reporter who turned to detective fiction. Having said that, the book was well written, if a little stacatto at times. I would have preferred to hear more about the cops and less about the criminals and I felt that is the only place the book lacked balance. The opening section of the book led me to believe I was going to get great personal stories about cops. And I did, to some degree, but they comprised very little of the actual book. The rest was a catalogue of strange crimes and horrible criminals. I will be following this up soon with David Simon's Homicide.

A fascinating book with far more twists and turns than many of the pop!historical novels that attempt to replicate the period. Mary Robinson could give a number of modern celbutants a number of lessons on remaking themselves and using the press to their advantage.