I love Davina Porter as a narrator and I used to eagerly look forward to Elizabeth George's novels, but this last outing angered me even more than the last. Her treatment of every single non-heterosexual character in this installment was appalling and frankly unforgivable.
She could have eliminated extraneous, whiny and cliched characters to deliver a story with more depth and resonance. Tightening up of the narrative could have also done wonders.
There will surely be a follow up, but I'm staying clear.
Yes. Juliet Stevenson's narration was stunning, nuanced, dramatic, engrossing, and beautiful—lending even more weight to Sarah Waters' detailed and lovingly told story. The narrative itself, though slow at the beginning, grew in tension, until I was literally holding my breath to see what happens next.
The Paying Guests reminded me a little of the atmosphere created by Peter Cameron in Coral Glynn, which also has terrific and taunt narration, in this case by Simon Prebble. If repression has a sound, both The Paying Guests and Coral Glynn have found it.
I loved Stevenson's interpretation of Frances Wray—just the right amount of angst, desire and repression, but also goodness and self awareness.
I wouldn't do that. The title is perfect.
Going forward, I want all of my books to be read by Juliet Stevenson.
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