Tag Archives: Detective Fiction

Dupin’s Dud: The Disappointing Case of ‘The Purloined Letter’

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The letter stolen again. 1864. Frédéric-Théodore Lix. “Модный магазин” (Fashion magazine), 1864, №23 (December)

Living where I do, a scant fifty miles from Baltimore where Edgar Allan Poe established his literary career and eventually died, it’s kind of amazing I’ve managed to avoid reading any of his work before now.

But recent (ish) homage paid to Poe’s The Raven by Fonda Lee in The Book of Witches was the final straw which pushed me past some undefined threshold at which I had to see what all the fuss was about.

I found a collected works on the Libby app and just went with the thing I recognized first in the table of contents (which is apparently the 3rd Dupin story to be written. Oops). I’ve reviewed some detective fiction here on this blog before (just last week I reviewed: How to Solve Your Own Murder by Kristen Perrin), and a class I took on the subject back in college meant the main character, Dupin, was familiar to me by reputation though again, I had not yet read any of the stories he featured in.

According to Wikipedia, Poe himself considered The Purloined Letter as “perhaps the best of my tales of ratiocination.”

I’ll admit, I was not quite as impressed.

Perhaps the hardest pill to swallow was Dupin himself. He is a pretty clear blueprint for many of the “gentlemen detectives” who would come later (Sherlock Holmes, Poirot, and (sigh) Ellery Queen).

The more fiction I read that centers around this type of character the more I seem to struggle with what readers are actually supposed to enjoy about reading them. Dupin is particularly unlikeable. Superior and pretentious, it feels like he’s more interested in hearing himself talk than saying anything interesting. Often during this pretty short story, I felt lost in a web of incomprehensible ramblings which I believe were meant to showcase the power of his intellect, but mainly showcased the number of syllables one can cram into their words.

I suppose as a kind of precursor to more modern detective fiction, it is somewhat interesting to read in the same way it might be interesting to study the fossils of the earliest fish to attempt coming up onto land. There are hints of things to come, but taken in isolation, the organism seems a bit weak and underdeveloped.

For instance, the idea that a mystery would “play fair” and allow for (observant) readers to solve the case before the ending reveal feels completely absent from The Purloined Letter. Actually following the detective through an investigation also seems to be something that is developed later on down the line as The Purloined Letter is mostly comprised of two conversations (assumedly) over two separate dinners. We are told of Dupin’s methods during the second dinner, but with the outcome firmly in hand, it is hardly suspenseful, and without the opportunity to arrange the clues ourselves, there is little catharsis in the solution.

Give The Purloined Letter a Read?

I think this somewhat depends on your goal in tackling the work. If you’re an academic and have a vested interest in the history and development of detective fiction, this piece may still have some undiscovered insight and be worth your while to read. However, if you’re looking to simply enjoy a piece of fiction, you may not find The Purloined Letter all that enjoyable. There is little within which endears us to the detective, Dupin, and many of the conventions modern readers enjoy — like “playing fair”, and participating in the investigation — are absent from this early expression.

The Purloined Letter has not completely turned me off from Poe just yet, but I don’t see myself visiting any more of Dupin’s stories in the near future.

That’s all I have for us this week. Has anyone read this classic? One of the other “tales of ratiocination?” Is there something here I’m missing? Please let me know in the comments. I look forward to discussing this one!

Never Judge A Book By It’s Title? ‘How To Solve Your Own Murder’ Misleads From the Start

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Well, another mystery solved and shelved though perhaps not one of my favorites (it might be a good idea to do a list of mystery favorites just to calibrate lol).

Maybe take this review with a bit of a grain of salt, as I felt How to Solve Your Own Murder lies a bit outside my normal diet in terms of genre and I am likely not the target audience for this book. However, I think it’s good to “read outside your genre” (and demographic) every now and again, and I feel like I learned quite a bit about my tastes while reading this one.

Where I think the book succeeds, is in its adherence to certain genre conventions, and in genuinely surprising the reader with ‘whodunnit’. I was still uncertain by the time Annie (the MC/amateur detective) figures it out, and when the killer is finally revealed (like 30ish pages from the end) it was nobody I suspected. So good job there.

Returning to genre, this book seems firmly in the ‘cozy’ vein of mysteries. As author Sarah Penner writes on the back cover blurb:

“. . . a quintessential English murder mystery . . . Idyllic country village? Check. Amateur sleuth? Check. But a fortune-teller’s grim prediction coming true sixty years later? . . . a perfect shelf companion alongside reader favorites like Agatha Christie, Richard Osman, and Nita Prose.”

Penner’s intrigue at the fortune-teller opening is interesting to me as I felt — despite all the other ‘boxes’ this book clearly checks — that this bit was the most cliched part, and perhaps something we should have moved past in 2024.

However, I did enjoy having the fortune itself to mull over as its own kind of puzzle alongside the primary mystery (I’ve even tried to do similar things in my own writing). And there was at least one satisfying moment in the story in which they use it to unlock some new information that felt like it could have been right at home in the type of Indianna Jones or The Mummy style action-adventure stories which I love reading. So . . . also good there.

Finally, I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler to reveal that there are essentially two timelines in the book: one past, one present (this is a structure I’ve enjoyed since it caught my attention back in 2015 with Ancillary Justice). The past timeline is revealed through diary entries and if I’m honest, kinda plays out like a soap opera, which in this instance, I mean as a compliment. I found myself often genuinely more interested in the drama of these sections than what was going on in the present, aka the investigation of the crime.

And now that we’re here, I’ll admit that it was mostly the ‘present’ timeline which was causing all the problems for me while reading because it was the least aligned with what I thought the book was supposed to be about.

Granted, this was a book club pick so I didn’t bother even checking the inside flap (I was going to read it anyway), but with a title of How to Solve Your Own Murder, I had assumed it would be more in the vein of: “Let me try to figure out who’s trying to kill me before they do”. And I suppose I also assumed that investigation would take place from that point of view.

But then here comes Annie, summoned to the estate, ready to uncover everyone’s business. It felt like I’d been tricked, and that the book became How to Solve Your Aunt’s Murder Which She Was Paranoid Might Happen.

After this misstep, and no new takes or subversions on all of the ‘checks’ Pinner mentioned in her blurb, it was hard to garner any real enthusiasm for the story. I can see a way in which this book might be a comforting read for diehard fans of the genre, but for anyone else, there was little here to convert you into a fan.

Give How to Solve Your Own Murder a read?

I saw this book on a table at a bookstore while out with friends and mentioned I was reading it. One asked if it was any good. I was considering my answer when my friend continued (because at this point I’d said nothing) with “Well that’s not a ringing endorsement.”

I tend to agree. There were definitely some parts of this book I enjoyed including genuine surprise at the reveal of whodunnit, a satisfying use of a fortune-puzzle, and the teen drama of the past timeline were all plusses for me.

But the lingering feeling while reading that this wasn’t the book I paid for, and the kind of ‘checkbox’ approach to genre conventions ultimately left me feeling pretty underwhelmed by the whole experience.

If this is your genre, How to Solve Your Own Murder may be perfectly serviceable and enjoyable. It does harken back to classic mystery authors like Agatha Christie, but doesn’t seem to provide anything new. Or if it does, I just couldn’t see it myself.

That’s all I have this week. How’d I do? Am I missing something? What would you expect to find beneath the pages of a book with this title? What are the ‘boxes’ you want checked in a mystery?

Leave your answers in the comments! See you next time!

Beyond Gaslamp: The Unseen Depths of The Mimicking of Known Successes

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It’s often the case that a book just cannot outrun what is being said about it. And no matter how much I try to remove expectation from my reading, it is even more often the case that I will still have plenty of preconceived notions at the start, and ultimately a large part of my enjoyment of the book will hinge on whether or not I felt the book met the expectations I had going in.

If the book is by a certain author which I know and like? I’ll have one set of expectations. If the book is simply getting dragged on TikTok? Then I’m sure I’ll have a different set of expectations.

If Charlie Jane Anders is quoted on the cover calling the book “An utter triumph!”? Well . . .

The Mimicking of Known Successes does contain many very cool pieces, but I couldn’t help but feel as I read it, that I was just on the verge of being blown away by something incredible, which unfortunately just never happened.

The coolest of the ‘very cool pieces’ for me was definitely its setting. Mossa’s and Pleiti’s investigation (and inevitable romance) takes place on a network of ring platforms orbiting Jupiter. Humanity has resorted to such extreme methods of survival because Earth is no longer inhabitable, destroyed by . . . well a general lack of care for the planet (I don’t remember if a particular environmental disaster is mentioned or not).

Woah.

Older has clearly put a lot of thought into how this society works, and the ring platforms feel real and quite plausible despite a relatively little amount of scientific explanation. Things like ‘atmoscarfs’ and rail cars are simply a part of everyday life on Giant, and we don’t need to think much about them, or understand really anything about how they work in order to be immersed in what they do.

Perhaps the most clever part of all this, is how Jupiter’s harsh climate is used to simultaneously put us further in the future, while sending us back technologically. Residents of Giant have gone back to relying on people to deliver messages and refer to news items read in broadsheets, because presumably Jupiter’s atmosphere is so harsh as to make things like cell phones or wifi untenable (it is not particularly clear to me how much they rely on computers but it seems they must still exist.) And of course, everything is dependent on trains and train schedules since nobody drives (something which is a seemingly amoral artifact of the past as it is just impossible given space and resources of the platforms).

In this way, we have a setting that is rather Gaslamp in its aesthetic, but without any Tolkienesque magic or trappings of Victorian society. If I do end up reading a sequel, I would hope to see a little bit more about how said society (aka government) runs as Giant seems a bit utopian — and honestly quite cozy — despite its seemingly harsh environment.

During my first read through, I thought this book sagged somewhat in its characters. My initial impression of Mossa and Pleiti was that they both felt a bit wooden somehow with most of their history and attraction for one another being implied rather than shown.

Upon discussing the pair with my book club, and searching around on the internet, it’s become apparent to me that at least one but likely both characters are somewhere on the Asperger’s / Autism spectrum. (https://www.reddit.com/r/Fantasy/comments/18ldaje/comment/kdwtfc4/)

In Mossa it’s perhaps more obvious, but also something we’re more familiar with if we’ve ever read a mystery before. She’s focused on all the wrong things (like work and solving murders), while aloof to everything else (like relationship signals and eating the proper amount of meals in a day). She’s intelligent, knows it, and can be somewhat dramatic about it. She’s very reminiscent of detectives like Sherlock, Dupin and Poirot.

I learned that Sherlock in particular is linked with Asperger’s / Autism, with much of his almost superhero-like deductive reasoning abilities attributed to his being on the spectrum. It might be easy to chalk up Mossa’s disorder to contrivance and reliance on detective tropes put forth in Sherlock but given that Older has approached this topic before through the character of in Mishima in the short story Narrative Disorder and later in Infomocracy, I’m more convinced that its representation here is thoughtful and nuanced.

Pleiti is a bit more enigmatic. She’s an academic with some clearly held opinions about right and wrong (and the environment). And I would say that she’s a lot less obvious than Mossa in her presentation, but I still think the shoe fits here as well.

Give This One a Read?

It’s really hard for me to come to a firm recommendation on this one either way. Though the book ended up being more nuanced than I originally thought (and I learned a great deal), the romantic parts still seemed too understated, and I found myself mostly wanting to know more about the worldbuilding.

That’s all I have for this one. Let me know your thoughts. Did I miss anything important? Is anyone excited for the sequel: The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles?

The Roman Hat Mystery: A Detective Fiction Misfire

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Looking back over the course of this blog, it would seem I’ve had a bit of a complicated relationship with “Detective Fiction”, aka Mysteries.

In early entries, such as my review of Deadman’s Hand by Richard Levesque, I portray myself as something of a subject matter expert, albeit one who’s been jaded by some “formula” which my younger self can spot with ease, while in my current evolution (as both writer and reader), I cannot pin down said formula with a nail gun (probably because there are so MANY formulas).

Later entries seem to corroborate the old maxim: “The more you learn the less you know.” as with the increase in mysteries read / solved, a consequent decrease in my confidence in knowing anything about the genre. By the time I read Death On the Nile back in 2022, I was claiming mystery to be a “new” genre to me.

Perhaps this was true in some ways. Golden Age detective fiction, the likes of which Agatha Christie pioneered, was indeed new to me. But it would seem my laudable experience in more hardboiled outings was simply forgotten over time. Numerous (and often excellent) mashups between SFF and Mystery were just . . . unconsidered.

What I found interesting about reviewing these old posts, is A) my apparent regression in genre savvy despite having MORE titles under my belt, and B) that I’m generally pretty negative on mysteries here on the blog despite the fact that if you asked me on the street I would likely say that I enjoy a good whodunnit as much as the next person.

With all of the above considered, we come to The Roman Hat Mystery by “Ellery Queen” (Frederic Dannay and Manfred Bennington Lee), which I’m sorry to report (and even sorrier because it continues the aforementioned trend), was quite awful.

As discussed above, I’m considering myself less and less of an authority on the mystery genre with each passing tome, especially during its Golden Age, however, even I had heard the name Ellery Queen, and recognized it to be one of historical importance. I think I had even read a few short stories from the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine (which is still going) somewhere along the way.

So when this book was selected as the next choice in my book club, I was eager to dig in and see for myself the origin of this phenomenon (series) which would span 30 books, countless spinoffs, and the EQMM magazine which would play such a pivotal role in the publication of so many authors (TIL: EQMM’s Who’s Who is a veritable list of greats for both Mystery and SFF authors including not only the likes of Dorothy L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, Raymond Chandler, but also SFF greats like Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, and Ray Bradbury).

What I found was . . .

Honestly quite awful and in some places even problematic. For most of my reading, I genuinely believed I was reading a parody of the “Golden Age” of detective fiction. Only I couldn’t find anything online to suggest that this was what was going on.

To start, the two detectives, Richard and Ellery Queen, are about as satisfying to read as looking at an unused roll of film. There’s nothing even there to be developed.

Richard’s singular character trait appears to be is love of snuff and Ellery’s appears to be a love of books. That’s it. After 300 pages I know next to nothing else about them except that they live together in a smarmy apartment (which was noticeably devoid of even a hint of a feminine presence).

I’m reminded of the term “Flanderizing“, that describes a character who, over time, becomes more and more focused on their quirks, becoming flat and one-dimensional. In The Simpsons this happens to Flanders (for whom the term is named) over the course of many seasons. In The Roman Hat Mystery, it felt like this happened to Richard and Ellery Queen over the course of only a few chapters.

Every interaction with Richard, whether interrogating a suspect or talking with a friend, felt akin to whiplash as the old man would be chuckling about something one moment and then barking his next line like a one-man good cop, bad cop routine. Of course this was made even more confusing by the presence of his son Ellery throughout most the book who was ostensibly a second man to share the routine with.

But no, Ellery is mostly just aloof, and when he does contribute, nearly incomprehensible. Mostly he speaks in literary quotes and allusions which I’ll admit may have been a bit beyond me since I’m reading this in 2023 and not a part of the 1920’s (when this book was originally published) zeitgeist, however, the references I DID know (mostly references to Sherlock Holmes) were still inscrutable, irrelevant, or felt cheaply inserted in ways that sacrificed the flow of the dialogue to make Ellery seem literary.

Other characters throughout the book also seemed to suffer from gross exaggeration. If this were a movie, I would have said the actress who plays Frances Ives-Pope overacts her parts, her reactions to circumstances of the novel seeming way out of proportion to what was going on in the scene (though no less than Richard lol).

Finally, I have to mention Djuna, the Queen’s teenage “latin” (wikipedia identifies him as Roma) man-servant. This poor guy is often compared to a monkey, and characterized as idolizing Richard so much as to be akin to worshipping a god.

It’s Island of Dr. Moreau levels of uncomfortable.

Give This One A Read?

I wouldn’t. The Roman Hat Mystery ends up being about 300 pages of chatting between two characters who are perhaps the most unremarkable detectives I’ve read yet. Characterization is all over the map here. Inconsistent at its best, and racist at its worst.

I would banish this series from my TBR completely, but a later book is titled The Egyptian Cross Mystery. We all know how much I enjoy anything related to Ancient Egypt, so I have to know. However, a brief skim of the wikipedia page reveals:

“…this seems to lead to a nearby bearded prophet whose invented religion mixes nudism and Egyptology.”

I’m not hopeful . . .

How about y’all? Has anyone read this one? Is there something here I’m missing? Let me know in the comments!

Until next time . . .

Men at Arms

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It has been a LONG time since I reviewed a Terry Pratchett book on this blog. Almost ten years ago, in the “before times” of 2013, I read my first Discworld novel, Guards! Guards! Reading that post after all this time, it seems I had no idea what to expect from a Discworld book, and was very pleased with what I found.

Ten years later, I have read a handful more Discworld stories (though sadly none were reviewed on this blog). Mort is perhaps still my favorite, but I found A Blink of the Screen deeply enlightening, as through the contents of this anthology, we get to trace Pratchett’s career from his first published work (when he was like 13 or something) all the way through its publication in 2012. There are definitely some gems within its pages, but the stories also cemented for me just how much Pratchett is a novel writer, not a short fiction author.

Anyway, this post is about Men at Arms so let’s talk about that book.

In short, Men at Arms is another fun and fantastic detective story, a worthy ‘sequel’ to Guards! Guards! (I have not yet read Theatre of Cruelty, a short story that is cited as the true 2nd entry into The Watch series) albeit, perhaps one of the strangest mysteries I’ve read yet.

I decided to return to Discworld with Men at Arms because it was recommended to me as a funny detective story which featured an ensemble cast (something I was studying at the time for my own writing). And the ensemble did not disappoint!

At the beginning of the novel, The Watch is going through some changes. Vimes will be getting married, and must suffer the increased wealth and prestige his new place in the world grants him. Definitely one of my favorite parts of these books, and where I think a great deal of humor comes from, is how Pratchett paints the lives of Ankh Morpork’s upper class, lives of wealth and leisure, as a life to be avoided at all costs!

Also, The Watch has new recruits! In an effort to satisfy diversity quotas, The Watch has hired several new members, each with something unique about them which sets them apart from the general public. For instance, Angua is a werewolf, and many of the new recruits are dwarves, while still others are trolls, the dwarves’ sworn enemies. With these new recruits, The Watch again becomes something of band of undesirables which must work together to solve the case. Who doesn’t want to read that story?

With these new characters in play, Pratchett introduces themes around what we would now consider identity politics. I found his approach to be nuanced, thoughtful, and ultimately egalitarian. Also, in most instances, quite hilarious. It is amazing the patience and care with which Pratchett sets up his jokes, and the skill with which he is able to call back to groundwork laid earlier in the story, which is inexplicably still top of mind.

Of course, much of the humor also comes from the abuse of well trod fantasy tropes and cliches, which Pratchett somehow manages to flip on their head. One cliche of the fantasy genre, is an almost obsessive focus on bloodlines, inheritance, and kingship, which is almost certain to anchor the story around the discovery of a long lost heir, often secreted away in a peasant hovel. I will not spoil how things turn out, but I really enjoyed the satire Pratchett creates with his use of these elements in Men at Arms.

Finally, Men at Arms is also a detective story, and in my opinion, a really good and interesting one at that. Some of the precedents set in earlier Discworld books (for instance, the way ‘Death’ is personified as a character, often with some of the wittiest dialogue in the series) had me wondering how the story would hold up the tension (couldn’t they just go ask ‘Death’ whodunnit?) but in each case, Pratchett seemed to be thinking twelve steps ahead, and never once did any conclusion, discovery or leap in logic seem too ridiculous to follow . . . or rather almost all of them did, but none were too ridiculous to have happened in Ankh Morpork.

Give this One a Read?

Absolutely! In Men at Arms, Pratchett has again shown himself to be an extraordinary storyteller, one who is not afraid to approach deep topics, crafting (for 1993) progressive themes with skill, care and humor. For any familiar with The Watch from Guards! Guards! I think you will be pleased with the new members (Detritus was a fav for me in this one), and if this is your first trip to Ankh Morpork, I think you will be equally enthralled.

That’s all I have this time. Has anyone read this book before? Others in The Watch series? Other Discworld books? What were your favorite parts of each? Please leave your thoughts in the comment section. I’m excited to chat about this book!

Should ‘A Master of Djinn’ win a Hugo?

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So, we’re back with another edition of ‘Should [insert title] win a Hugo?‘ and while I understand that Hugo voting already took place on August 11th, I didn’t want to let my tardiness prevent me from posting about this awesome book.

(Honestly I will probably continue to post reviews of Hugo nominated works in this format up until and even after the winners are announced. I just like the ring of the title lol)

And the answer, for me, is ABSOLUTELY!

There is so much to consider within these 392 pages that it’s really hard to figure out where to even begin with my review, but I think it might be safe to begin with what the general public might enjoy, before diving into my particular brand of Ancient Egypt – centric nonsense.

A review over on Josh Garik16’s SciFi/Fantasy Reviews and Other Thoughts, points out just how ‘fun’ A Master of Djinn is to read. I couldn’t agree more. Agents Fatma and Hadia have excellent back-and-forth, while her and Siti exhibit the type of witty romance we all wish we might fall into someday. Then there’s Fatma’s rapport with Aasim from the police, and of course agents Ahmed and Onsi . . . her short shrift for self important djinn . . . Really just Fatma DOING ANYTHING is a joy to behold.

Perhaps the next feature of this book which deserves attention, is its deft handling of Theme (with a capital T lol). Of course, modern day Cairo is an intricate mix of different peoples, religions, beliefs and customs. Clark’s ‘Steampunk Cairo‘ does not shy away from this complexity in A Master of Djinn but rather embraces it, using it as a platform to examine issues of race, and prejudice. Ultimately, Clark’s version of Cairo is not a utopia in which all of these issues are washed away, but a city very much still grappling with them. Though nothing can be solved in a single adventure, I left the story feeling hopeful at the very least.

Finally, perhaps the most awe inspiring part of A Master of Djinn is the worldbuilding. All of the mystical and mundane beings we met in A Dead Djinn in Cairo (as well as a major plot point which I won’t spoil) return, and are even more mysterious, magical, and amazing. Readers will recognize one particular market from The Angel of Khan El-Kahlili, and I’ve already mentioned two returning characters from The Haunting of Tram Car 015, but the world of this novel is sooo much bigger than these little winks to previous installments. A Master of Djinn truly earns the ‘epic’ part of epic fantasy, with international intrigue, kings, courts, imperialism, and more magic than I could describe in a single post (all the while hitting all the beats of a thrilling mystery too).

But because I’m me, I was enraptured by the nods to Cairo (and Egypt’s) more ancient past. One of the first places we see is the Temple of Hathor, dedicated to the “Lady of Stars”. Here Clark clearly did his research, providing the more common depiction of Hathor with statuary involving calf’s horns, and representative of motherhood etc. But I also felt his incorporation of the duality between Hathor and Sekhmet (something it seems Disney’s Moon Knight is doing also) clever as well.

In general, we see more Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses than we have yet seen in any previous installment. We actually meet Sobek, and cults to Anubis, Nephthys, and Set are implied if not shown. I can’t remember if any others are mentioned, but what I enjoyed the most about their inclusion, was that Clark was not afraid to take liberties with the myths, and really made them fit the story he was trying to tell (for instance Set and Sobek are roommates because housing in Cairo is expensive (wow does that speak to me)). And when agent Fatma points out inaccuracies in how the myths play out, well:

“Ahmad’s generous nostrils flared as he gritted his sharp teeth.
‘Why is everyone so slavish to texts written thousands of years ago?’ he snapped. ‘Gods can change. Grow apart. Try new things. Besides, Set was a jerk. He never knew how to treat her properly. How to worship her.’

Clark, P. Djeli; A Master of Djinn pg. 63-64 (2021)

I guess the author knew there’d be people in the audience pushing up their spectacles and raising a finger to say “Excuse me . . .” Why not head us off at the pass. It got me laughing at least.

One last interesting incorporation of Ancient Egyptian mythology was essentially the incorporation of human avatars for the Ancient Gods (Ahmad being the most prominent), and the in-world belief that the God’s tombs existed in the world somewhere and presumably could be found, and that the gods could ‘awaken’.

So far as I know, Ancient Egyptians only ever built tombs for human beings. Human beings which they believed would more or less take the form of Gods in the afterlife (or during your regular life if you were the Pharaoh).

I only think these things are interesting because they were also espoused in Disney’s recent superhero series Moon Knight. It is interesting to me that this would appear in two pieces of media around relatively the same time, considering I don’t think any scholars are espousing this view. It would be interesting to try and hunt down where these ideas are coming from, but I’m sure I have zero idea how to even begin that search.

Focus Dude . . . Award?

Anyway, yes, if we’re going off of what I’ve read so far, I absolutely want A Master of Djinn to win best novel. I enjoyed Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary but I don’t think it stood out to me as a Hugo contender the way this book did.

Anyway, that’s all I have for now. Have you read this one? What did you think? Let me know in the comments!!

See you next time!

A Review of “The Haunting of Tram Car 015” By P. Djeli Clark

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Still making my way through P. Djeli Clark’s A Dead Djinn Universe stories in anticipation of A Master of Djinn.

The first story in the series — from which the “universe” gets its name — A Dead Djinn in Cairo, left me wondering how I’d missed it back in 2016. A thoroughly steampunk Cairo, reimagined as a city of equal or greater prominence than western cities like New York or London. Egypt is at the heart of the mechanical and magical advancements of the early 1900s and as we investigate a mystical Djinn’s murder, we dive deeper into a city which contends with cults to ancient Egyptian Gods, more Djinn, mysterious Marid and Angels.

The Angel of Khan el-Khalili was a much shorter stay in this unique setting. Clarke uses the (I guess) controversial 2nd person point of view to put us in the mind of a young girl on very a personal mission. The magic and wonder of the world show through brightly, and we’re able to learn just a bit more about the mysterious Angels presented in the first story. There’s a bit of a twist which I enjoyed (but won’t spoil) and I was generally really impressed with this little bite sized glimpse into the setting.

But what about the tram car?

Yes! This review is of The Haunting of Tram Car 015. This trip into steampunk Cairo was a little less enchanting for me than my first outing in A Dead Djinn in Cairo. We are introduced to a new main character (well really two new MC’s although we only get POV of one), this time a man, who also works for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities. Hamed Nasr lacks the style and pizazz of A Dead Djinn‘s main character, Fatma el-Sha’arawi, but does his best working lower profile cases. He’s experienced, diligent, and thorough, which means he’s a reliable man for the job, if not necessarily an exciting one.

This perhaps brings me to my first negative critique of the piece. Hamed is meant to be showing the other MC (Onsi Youssef) the ropes and instructing him in the ways of detection etc. However, it felt like Onsi’s ingenuity and wit progressed the case more than anything Hamed did, and Onsi’s schemes — however seemingly naïve — also provided significantly more humor as well. I know many detective stories will pair a ‘straight man’ with a funnier character for laughs, but the more sensible character still needs to pull us in if they’re in fact the hero. I never felt I was reading to see Hamed succeed so much as to see what new hijinks Onsi would come up with.

Next we consider the main thrust of the plot, the haunted tram car, 015. I enjoyed this plot for several reasons, the first being its uniqueness in terms of place. We are all very familiar with houses being haunted, or asylums, or maybe an old ship out at sea, but I think this is my first reading of a haunted tram car (unless we count One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston which isn’t really framed as a haunting in the traditional sense). It seems as good a place as any for a spirit to reside and seemed to fit the rest of the setting very well.

The type of spirit (which I won’t spoil) also serves to make the world of this universe that much larger which for me was good and bad. I always appreciate learning about a new mythology which I haven’t been exposed to before, but in this case I kind of wish we had continued to explore the mythology founded in A Dead Djinn before importing something new.

Finally, we get to the pivotal scene, which I also will try not to spoil (too much), but will say that I thought the imagery quite funny to imagine while still being rife with tension. The progress of women’s rights in this reimagined Cairo, given just a passing nod in the beginning of the story, and mentioned here and there throughout the rest of the story, ended up being the platform on which the whole finale takes place. I hope to someday be able to employ a similar trick in my own writing. It felt that good.

Recommend?

In general, yes I’d recommend this story, but with the caveat that if you’re looking for another Dead Djinn in Cairo, you may be a little disappointed. The Haunting of Tram Car 015 is very much its own story even though it is set in the same universe. Though there is some crossover (we do actually share a dessert with Fatama in one scene), Onsi Hamed is the star of his own adventure.

It will be interesting to see what if any connections will be drawn from Tram Car 015 once I finally get to A Master of Djinn.

In the meantime, what did y’all think of this story? Were you able to guess who what kind of spirit was haunting the tram? Who was your favorite character? What made you laugh? Leave me some comments so we can chat. Looking forward to discussion on this one!

How did I miss this? A Dead Djinn in Cairo (Review)

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I don’t think it’s too hard to guess why this one piqued my interest, it does after all, take place in Egypt, and I’m obsessed. I’ve always heard great things about this author, and (semi) recently I enjoyed P. Djeli Clark’s Ring Shout, so this was pretty much a no brainer.

Of course, the next question of “why now?” should also make a good bit of sense considering a novel set in this universe (known fittingly as the A Dead Djinn Universe), A Master of Djinn, is a finalist for the Hugo Award. I figured I should probably read up on the previous installments so I won’t miss any context when reading the novel.

Why I hadn’t jumped into this world before however, is a question I am completely baffled at, as it proved to be completely the thing I like and am always trying to search out and find new instances of. That it’s been out since 2016(!!) and I hadn’t read it and blogged about it is more than a little frustrating, but here we are. Doing it now.

I’m actually wondering if I did pick this up earlier, but bounced off of it because the setting wasn’t ‘ancient’ enough, meaning it wasn’t Assassin’s Creed Origins (although wikipedia tells me that game didn’t exist yet). When this came out, I probably wasn’t really into anything that felt like ‘steampunk’ either, though I hope I have since rid myself of such snobbery. Anyway, I probably read a few pages, saw no references to Ancient Egyptian Gods, and having no background in Islamic Mythology, did not care much about Djinn or Marid, and went on to something else.

Long story short, I should have read a few more pages. I should have read THE WHOLE THING!!

A Dead Djinn in Cairo DOES eventually reveal some cults to Ancient Egyptian gods, the goddess Hathor being of particular note, as I don’t feel like she’s often showcased in fiction (episodes of Disney’s Moon Knight aside). And thanks to my adventures in Daevabad, I do have a bit more context when it comes to Islamic Djinn, Ifrit, and Marid. Also, there are Angels.

All of the elements I’ve mentioned above are mixed together in a veritable soup of religions and alternate history which Clark never allows to become overwhelming. A lot of the Arabic words (like janbiya) and customs were new to me, but it was wonderful to read a story set so firmly within this point of view. The story never seems to fall prey to the type of exoticism we’ve seen in the past (the story even nods to this with the main character’s English suits which she wears because it’s exotic).

Finally, the main character, Fatma, is fun and provocative (within the context of the story). Clark weaves a tight, fast-paced, tale which never allows us to simply marinate in this crazy magical steampunk alternate Cairo, as much as we might like to. There’s murders to solve, and patriarchies to shoot holes in.

So . . . Read?

Yup! I really enjoyed this one, and am greatly looking forward to the next installments: The Angel of Khan el-Khalili, The Haunting of Tram 015, and then A master of Djinn when I get there. Probably the parts that resonated with me the most, were the complexity of world building and grounding of the reader in that POV. I also enjoy a good mystery as much as anyone, especially when it involves magic, the supernatural, and mechanical beings. What’s not to love?

Well that’s the end of the review. Has anyone read this story yet? What did y’all think? What are you most excited about for the next installment. More Djinn? Marid? These mysterious Angels?

Please let me know in the comments. See you next time!

Unearthed Classic: Death On the Nile by Agatha Christie

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Given my propensity for all things Ancient Egypt, I’m actually a little surprised it has taken me so long to finally read this book. I’ll admit that mystery is not generally my go-to genre when trying to decide what I should read next, but it’s good to broaden one’s horizons and . . . well there’s a movie of this coming out next month for which my attendance was voluntold (I did not resist very mu– at all).

But what better author to start exploring this new genre with than one of the four Queens of Crime herself, Agatha Christie.

I think I’ve only read one other Christie novel before — also a Poirot mystery — which was And Then There Were None. I feel I must have watched some Ms. Marple shows at some point, and I remember being somewhat furious by the ending of Murder On the Orient Express (the 1974 version, not the ‘new’ 2017 version which I haven’t seen).

In any case (pun intended), I would consider these credentials quite elementary (dear Watson (and yes I know that’s a different author)), and so I was anxious to begin digging into the work of a master, especially in a setting so near and dear to my heart.

What I enjoyed:

Namely, the fun of trying to solve the mystery! This was a fun and very puzzling case. Christie seems to bust out all the stops here, relying on more than just murder to keep her readers guessing. In Death on the Nile, there are no less than five crimes committed, and probably as many immoral actions which aren’t technically illegal, but certainly seem to offend the various 15 passengers of the SS Karnak.

Yea. Lot’s to keep the old noodle uh . . . noodling? Anyway, Christie manages to keep it all moving smoothly and deftly keeps our focus away from the clues while still leaving the trail for us to follow. An adage I’ve heard often (at this point almost a cliché) applied to all kinds of writing, but especially to mysteries is “Surprising yet inevitable.” I felt the reveal in Death on the Nile hit this note perfectly, and it was one of the only mysteries I’ve read, that didn’t leave me feeling cheated or betrayed.

What I did not enjoy:

The DRASTIC under use of Egypt as the book’s setting. For lack of a better way to say it, Christie really missed the boat on this. While she does include some temple names, and sprinkles in a few mentions of Ancient Egyptian deities, they’re just window dressing with zero relevance to what’s happening in the mystery or any of the other plots and subplots. For the first half of this book, I thought the real mystery to solve was why all these people want to go to Egypt in the first place (I suppose you don’t really need a reason). In truth, this mystery could have taken place on any boat, sailing any river, anywhere in the world and it still would have played out exactly the same.

I also felt there were some inappropriate representations of many cultures and peoples throughout the book, but I’m chalking that up to the time period, and am not going to dig too deep into it, as it’s not something I’m very versed in nor eloquent at (Grace Byron‘s article Revisiting Agatha Christie’s Orientalism in ‘Death on the Nile’ for Observer is probably a better starting place). I’ll just say it took me out of the story a few times.

So . . . read?

Despite the flaws (and missing the best reason to write a story in Egypt!), I still enjoyed this novel immensely. There is always something thrilling about seeing a master of a craft put their talent on display. I felt Death on the Nile did so, and I’m looking forward to reading more Christie mysteries in the future.

If you haven’t yet, give this one a read . . .

Anyway, that’s all for this time. Have you read this classic? What were your thoughts? Better yet who did you think had dunnit? Leave your answers in the comments. Excited to talk about this one!

Still here? Awesome. I hope you enjoyed Unearthed Classic: Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie. As mentioned earlier in the post, Christie didn’t really take advantage of Egypt as a truly incredible setting in this mystery. I tried not to make the same mistake in my own story, Narmer and the God Beast.

This short story is pretty much what it says on the tin: Ancient Egypt and Dinosaurs (how cool is that?!). A lot went into this idea, and I’ve posted a bunch about my influences for this story on the blog, but really most of the insight on my process and inspiration comes each quarter to readers of my newsletter. Subscribers can also expect a new piece of exclusive short fiction each quarter as well as well as a copy of the first story I ever wrote which is about a warlock doctor, so please consider signing up.

Anyway, thanks for your time, and I hope to see you around here more!

Review of Snapshot by Brandon Sanderson

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snapshotEnjoyable. I will probably look into Reckoners series now (like I wasn’t going to already). I think maybe he tried to do a little too much at the end but the story was still very good.

Snapshot is basically a detective story. I occasionally read detective stories (Ok that’s a lie. Apparently I’ve read a lot) and enjoy them though my bag is much more in the SF and Fantasy realm. Indeed I’ve read a few SFF stories that are basically just detective novels (with all the bad writing and misogyny) set in a science fiction or fantastic world. These types of stories are often disappointing as we’re not progressing in either genre. Snapshot does not feel this way to me. If anything it is a detective story with one fantastical (SF?) element: the Snapshot.

As such the expectations being met, broken, or subverted are unique to detective stories. His effort here is not simply: “Look! I mashed two genres together!”. But it seems he really wanted to add something to the detective genre and I feel he’s done that to an extent.

Perhaps what was showcased the most for me was Sanderson’s ability to write characters. They always seem incredibly real and I enjoy the little quirks he gives them to make them feel that way. Snapshot is no exception. You get to witness an incredible series of events that happen to very likable (well at the very least very sympathetic) people. I wouldn’t ask for more.

Please feel free to comment your thoughts, impressions, praise, or random blatherings. I’m always up for talking Brandon Sanderson.