Novels No. 34 (LL352)

 What have I done?!

My lovely tablet, used for reading ebooks, was declared too old to handle TPL's recent "certificate" upgrade in Libby (OverDrive). Rather than buy a new tablet, I opted for a KOBO after a bit of online research. At Indigo, this involved the purchase of a box containing said Kobo, from a stack of boxes behind the cash register, without even a display of the real unboxed thing. Try to picture my sad face as I open the box and find that the item is half the size of my tablet, colourless, and lacking much in the way of instruction. One book later and slightly more accustomed to a dismal grey-and-white world: the only thing that recommends it is the size and weight for spending time in the doctor's waiting room. I should add that its tiny size greatly inflates the amount of page numbers.

Benjamin Stevenson. Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect. Ebook download from TPL's Libby. HarperCollins, 2023.

Narrator/writer Ernest Cunningham is up to his former trick: a funny, cunning, rather brilliant, "closed-circle" mystery. Half a dozen international crime fiction authors board a luxury train, the "Ghan," to showcase the Australian Writers Festival. For four days they will eat, sleep, and travel together, along with a handful of diehard fans. Ernie's next book is writing itself itself before our eyes. With him is the lovely Juliette from his previous book,* herself an author. Also on board are Ern's agent Simone; a rival publisher, Wyatt Lloyd; and the necessary service staff. Stevenson had the decency to include a diagram of the festival's special section of the train, which on my Kobo, was miniscule and thus illegible.

Ern talks a lot about adhering to writer's rules for mysteries, carefully introducing us to his fellow authors—Lisa Fulton, S.F. Majors (female), Alan Royce, and Wolfgang all have individual styles with differing degrees of commercial success. The one who stands out is Ern's personal idol and envy of all: the ornery Scotsman Henry MacTavish, author of a best-selling thriller series. The personalities soon bloom, some like roses, some like deadly nightshade. Ern swears he's giving us hints and clues as the journey proceeds, but we're not prepared for sudden death in front of everyone on the second day. Ern is certain it's a murder, can't help himself becoming an investigator. That doesn't please anyone, including a pissed-off Juliette who leaves the train at Alice Springs. At the same time, our hero frets with doubts of his own literary worth. After another very obviously murdered body is found, each writer flexes their particular skills, eager to avoid suspicion or prove someone else did it (like Ernest).

Ernest's probing and theories are self-absorbing and may seem a bit circular, as potential motivations, old grudges, odd alliances shift among the lively characters. A highlight is a classic gathering of the suspects (everyone!) for the big reveal, a bit clichéd. But make no mistake, this book is highly entertaining and makes your brain work; it just seems not quite as fresh as Stevenson's prior book.

Call me picky, but I was not pleased when the title of MacTavish's new manuscript was revealed: Life, Death and Whiskey. No Scotsman would ever spell whisky like that! No mention of that, in any reviews I looked at post-facto. A bit of a blow to Stevenson's creds in my opinion. We won't mention the missing comma.

* Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone (see my Novels No. 14).

Bits

▪ I am, you may have realized, a bit chattier than your usual detective in these books. That's because I'm not going to hide anything from you. (25)

▪ "It's all-inclusive, isn't it?" a man shouted in a vaguely Scottish accent. "If I want the bottle, just give me the bottle." (89)

▪ They were all leaning forward, shoulder blades hunched like vultures' wings. That's a posture reserved for scheming. (104)

▪ Wolfgang wrote books that didn't apologize or cater to readers, as if to say: if his works are too difficult for you (they were for me) that's your fault. (114)

▪ He was the type of person who picked up and carried a suitcase with wheels, just so he could complain about how heavy it was. (143)

▪ "You told your literary agent ... that people, sort of, have to die in order for you to write a book." (253)

▪ She held up the Chairman's Carriage key and said as she placed it on the table, "Never meet your heroes." (298)

▪ "Someone's picking off bad writers. I'd lock your door." (336)

▪ "But now I see that this might be all I am to you. Just a part of your story." She took a breath. "That scares me." (358)

▪ "I can't believe you're making me say this, but could you not play games around a dead body?" (424)

▪ "I don't need your shambolic theories, and I could do without your theatrics." (440)

▪ "When you were invited here, I imagine she would have begged to come with you?" (472)

Alexis Soloski. Here in the Dark. USA: Flatiron Books, 2023.

Dark it is, although the premise is very appealing—a crusty theatre critic—and Vivian Parry seems to be a lively subject. As a junior critic on a major newspaper for boss Roger, she strives for the (currently open) position of senior critic; her reviews are intelligent, honest, blistering, and often offend people. Her interactions with irreverent pal Justine are funny, flippant; her lifestyle is carelessly pathetic. Vivian invests emotionally in theatre watching, but has learned to turn off feelings in real life. Due to poor self-identity, not to mention a medical syndrome, she avoids the drama and stress of normal relationships, but tries to "act" as a regular person. Her early ambition on the stage revealed a singular ability to become the character she plays ‒ 24/7! ‒ and landed her in a psych ward.

Drawn by the promise of a desirable panel position that will boost her career, Vivian consents to an interview by grad student David Adler. In hindsight, she senses instinctively that David had been mysteriously acting a role. He vanished immediately afterwards, and Vivian is then dragged into a journey with his fiancée Irina, with real or imagined thugs in red caps, a third-rate P.I., a dead body in the park, and a stern cop, Paul Destine. Unhealthy stress is building in her from these infringing strangers that forces an issue: create a credible role as "Nora," to become receptionist for a shoddy, shady online gambling outfit owned by Irina's scary father, Boris Sirko. For a time she shines in her role, until a different plot darkens around her.

Aside from a genuine guy named Charlie, everyone else in Vivian's life could be playing a part. It's quite a wild trip, only for readers with strong empathy and theatrical tastes. Amazing as a debut novel.

Words

adamantine = unbreakable

chittkous = [not found via Google; did the author invent this from scientist Lars Chittka's name?]

Bits

▪ Roger realizes he has an editorial meeting and blunders toward the conference room like a midsize bull going badly off course at Pamplona. (23)

▪ And I know what happens when I involve myself. When I allow myself to feel without limit. Bad things. Dangerous things. (28)

▪ Jake Levitz is just the sort of P.I. you hire if you're trying to placate your grieving daughter, but you don't actually want her missing fiancé found. (38)

▪ "Oh my God. You did. You motherfucking fainted again. For fuck's sake, Viv." (53)

▪ One side holds that a performer truly experiences all of a character's pain and pleasure. The other counters that actors fake these feelings: On the surface, an emotional whirlwind. (66)

▪ "I haven't lost anything." Not counting my emotional life, an integrated self, the ability to sleep through the night without a pill. (96)

▪ Before I give myself over to Nora, I want, just once, to play someone else: the girl he sees in his pretty green eyes, the girl I might have been. (130)

▪ A shiny placard announces "Luck Be a Lady, LLC," David Adler's last known place of employment. (133)

▪ Because I have made all of these people believe that I really am Nora. I have played the part—I am playing the part—to something like perfection, hiding myself in plain sight. This is what I have always wanted. To disappear, with everyone watching. (141-2)