This is an magnificent novel. Brilliantly crafted, excellent characterisation and with a plot that intrigues until the end. This is Sophie Hannah at the height of her powers - I was transfixed. Julia Barrie's narration is faultless. I defy any one who loves a psychological thriller not to enjoy this hugely.
I agree with the previous reviewer - this is Goddard at his best. Gripping from start to finish Plus excellent narration.
There is little to recommend this drab little tale which suffers the double disadvantage of extremely poor authorship with bad translation.
After a promising debut with Midwinter Sacrifice I was hoping for far more than this. The problem is that the author pads his tale with mind numbing trivia and the risable mental meanderings of his increasinly unattractive female lead, who manifests as an out of context Victorian hysteric with pseudo feminist pretensions.. That the whimpering, but allegedly "Brilliant", Malin has attained such an elevated position in the Swedish police force is hardly credible and the authors delusional portrayal of women does them no favours. Then there is the simpering chorus of the murdered young girls rattling away in the background like a swarm of prematurely senile wasps adding yet another meaningless dimension to this plastic confection.In addition there are worrying glimpses of very real sexism & racism in this shallow tome.
Summertime Death is a fine example of, in Kallentofts own words,"the rapturous elevation of the mediocre and the uninteresting"
The writing is truly abysmal and the author should be prosecuted for crimes against the simile.
Scandanavian Crime Fiction has some stunning works, such as the books of Jo Nesbo & Henning Mankell - this execrable rambling is not among their number.
Given the appaling material the female reader fits very well
This splendid Noir novel starts slowly and builds into a deeply satisfying tale of seedy 1960's Britain. The sexual proclivities of the Establishment highlighted in scandals such as the Profumo Affair is the fulcrum around which an emerging post war liberalism is explored.
The central character is a real fallible human being struggling in a largely corrupt police force and is very likeable.
The narrator Paul Thornley was perfect, although a little research on pronunciation of unfamiliar words would not have gone amiss.
I can only hope for more well crafted works by Danny Miller - I was hooked.
At 24 hours plus this may be a tad long for some people but I thoroughly enjoyed every second of this novel. The reader was excellent and the combination of this and first rate writing and plot made for a rich and satisfying experience. The characters as always with Clare Francis are skillfully and sensitively wrought and the plot tight and complex.
The lure of Francis is that she spirits us away to a new milieu which is always enthrallingly dangerous.
Buyer beware – this is not crime fiction it is very bad chick lit more suitable for a comic strip aimed at the early teens.
It is yet another leap onto the very lucrative Scandinavian gravy train started by real intelligent writers such as Henning Mankel & Jo Nesbo. As in the case of the execrable Camilla Lackberg, Liza Marklunds heroine is a vacuous, self-pitying ninny. She feels sick, she has a slight headache, she feels dizzy, thirsty zzzzz….. She cries because she has her period and has forgotten to buy tampons, although we know she has sanitary towels in her handbag because we have been told so earlier in this infuriating travesty of literature. She is a dreadful narcissistic, arrogant and stupid monstrosity - Bridget Jones meets Heidi’s idiot sister.
I mention the plot last because it is a drab and unattractively flaccid thing hardly worth a mention. Like a bad piece of knitting it is full of holes and loose ends and has not been constructed with any semblance of care.
Miss Marklund has peppered her book with pretentious pseudo intellectual moralising on the ethics of journalism in an attempt; presumably to con us into thinking we have not wasted our time and money. She also has a nauseating go at some Freudian descriptions of perverted sex and the odd bit of lyricism such as, ”the rain hung like a wet curtain outside”
Yet again another deplorable effort has made its way on to the printed page. How?
The reader is not bad but it's a chick lit voice.
This is unputdownable fiction with an uncomfortable storyline.
The central character, a journalist, falls into the plot of a potential scoop. He puts his life on the line to get to the bottom of a series of callous executions and in doing so transforms the lives of those around him.
This novel exposes the heavy human and moral cost of cheap supermarket food but in an un preachy way. I was nailed to my metaphorical seat from start to finish. Beautifully written by Adam Paul whose characters breathe life into the tale and impeccably narrated as ever by Sean Barrett
This is a beautifully written book with rich characterisation and a compelling plot. I really wanted to know what happened to the two main protagonists but I found the tale a little overlong and at times I felt it dragged. However the first class narration by Robert Powell kept me going and I was glad I did.
This is a tale of war and adversity and the search for meaning and truth but it does not preach - it sweeps us along a thrilling path to a satisfying conclusion.
Well worth the effort.
Inspector Ikmen, for those who have not come across him before, is a likeable somewhat eccentic Istanbulu police inspector. Through him Barbara Nadel addresses the way in which Turkey tackles contemporary issues in a thoughtful and thorough manner. She achieves this by weaving a fascinating tale of two cultures, sprinkled with morsels of Ikmen's tortuous personal life.
Combined with sublime narration by Sean Barrett this is a little gem.
This will be the last Camilla Lackberg I read. This pretentious and poorly written novel might be just about acceptable as a children’s book but it is an insult to even a moderate adult intelligence. The characters are two dimensional, shallow and irritating and include those such as the cringe making Scandinavian man who “does his bit of tidying up” and the older boss who is ridiculed as a buffoon. The prose is laboured and leaden and the story line full of inconsistencies.
The level of sentimentality is high and at times it was like being force fed marshmallows: the prose syrupy, stilted and contrived.
I shudder to think what kind of labour Ms Lackberg had with her children because the mawkish account she gives in the book pushed credibility to new limits.
This book is full of tired old stereotypes and a ceaseless mind-numbing litany of trivia.
Given the underlying subject matter this book is an insult to those who lived through the second world war and suffered it’s consequences.
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