francesmthompson's Reviews (976)

The first in a long line of Inspector Rebus crime mysteries, and I believe the first Ian Rankin for me too. I enjoyed many things about the story - that it hadn't aged much in the thirty-odd years since it was published, that it had twists I guessed right and others I didn't get, that it was a mostly simple but horrific crime told from the viewpoints of a number of characters not just Rebus - and I found the writing easy to read and follow, if a little repetitive and stop-start when it came to developing the plot. I certainly felt the first half was more original than the second. This is me being very pernickety, of course, because I still enjoyed the book and would be very interested to read more in the series to understand what happens next for Inspector Rebus... It's also very true when they say that Edinburgh is a main character in the book and it's a must-read for anyone who knows or visited the city and was moved or intrigued by its gothic architecture and deeply layered history of literature.

Really, really, really enjoyed this book told from the viewpoints of Ernest Hemingway's four wives, in chronological order, and significantly with them overlapping one another. While a work of the author's "imagination" there was evidently serious research behind many of the key events and issues explored. The writing was gently poetic at times, subtly smart at others and always had the kind of flow that made you not want to miss a single word in case you missed a soothing turn of phrase or a key moment in the many sub-plots that were very successfully sewn throughout the novel. So very glad I picked this book up. Will be handing it over to someone else to read very soon, which I think is one of the highest compliments I can give a novel.

This left me a little startled and very inspired, a good combination.

Best read with a cup of tea and silence.

Oh I hate me for doing this but I bailed. I just could not get into it. Yes, I'm a self-confessed city girl who knows nothing about falconry and luckily I've not been touched by loss or grief in any way close to the author has when she lost her dad, but I have read books on grief and on nature before and this one just didn't have the same instant magnetism...

Will hopefully pick it up again one day soon but for now, my interest in this book has flown the nest.

Terrible pun sorry.

One of the best books I've read on depression, and has given me one of the best descriptions/explanations of the illness that I have ever read. "Depression is a cloud. You are the sky."

A must-read for anyone with any experience of depression either themselves or a loved-one.

Another reviewer describes this as a movie disguised as a book and I couldn't agree more. The deeper I got into the book, the more I felt like I was actually reading a descriptive version of a screenplay. However, I can't work out if this is a compliment or not. While the writing is not to my liking (too much telling and not enough showing) I absolutely cannot deny that I was hooked on the plot and the twists that were delivered along the way were surprising and satisfying. Would I read more by this author? Probably not. Would I recommend it to a friend? Yes, abolutely IF you like this genre and/or you're intrigued by astrophysics... or if you like reading fiction that is shamelessly gagging to be made into a Hollywood blockbuster.

Don't read this because you are single. Don't read this because you are unmarried. Don't read this because you have cats. Read this because you are FEMALE... or if you love writing/writers/literature. It's one of the most important and richly researched books I've read about women in modern society, as told with the help of five women in history, all writers of one kind or another.

My only small complaint is the title, although the author goes some way at the end to try and justify its selection. For me, this book is about so much more than being a "Spinster". It's about confronting societal and cultural norms that have come about for a multitude of reasons, and examining in closer detail how restrictive and suffocating these can be for women, knowingly or not.

I've been dipping in and out of this all year, and I'm still not finished, strictly speaking.

I suspect I never will be. Nor do I ever want to be, because poetry unlike other literary forms is like songs - begging to be re-read, re-experienced, enjoyed over and over again.