Joseph Zizza

A quaint period piece, very much of the year 1940. Breezily written, it nevertheless never mentions Germany or Hitler, while referring to both indirectly. Its hero, the blind Duncan Maclain, has a bit of The Shadow about him, and having read many of those when I was a kid, I found myself sceptical of his “powers” as well as the last minute, slightly incredible rescues. Entertaining, but requires an ENORMOUS suspension of disbelief.

I really don't understand the status of this book as a “classic” mystery. The culprit is identified five pages in (not necessarily a showstopper; see Malice Aforethought), the credibility of the Svengali hold the villain holds over his household is VERY questionable, the people in that household are as dumb as rocks, and the denouement in an incinerator plant is hard to take seriously and is very sketchily presented, presumably to allow readers to imagine the worst. This is a very dated and largely suspense-free suspense novel with little to recommend it beyond some capable writing. Great for your 68 year old maiden aunt.

I don't understand what all the fuss is about. Successor to Hammett and Chandler? Has neither the toughness of Hammett nor the wisecracking wit of Chandler. Just one unpleasant and seedy event after another, with a “surprise” revelation of the obvious killer. It isn't terrible, just not exceptional.

Surprisingly entertaining mystery from 1932 that showed little sign of its age and kept me interested all the way through. It helps that it's set mostly in a castle in western Scotland and there is an emphasis on the “old ways” versus modern ways, but it's more down to the skill of Anthony Wynne, who is virtually unknown, and whose books (apart from this one, recently published in the US) are all out of print and VERY hard to find. Recommended.

Cleverly reasoned working out of a murder from a coroner's inquest testimony alone. It is brief, and benefits from its brevity, as it's hardly gripping fare reading testimony from the residents of the house in which the murder takes place. But there are sly injections of insight into the characters, and although there are one or two less than politically correct issues with the way the testimony is conveyed, it is from 1932, so some allowance must be made. Philip MacDonald is a neglected writer, and this is odd, as the books of his I've read have been very satisfying.

I have enjoyed several of Ellery Queen's novels (Ross is another pseudonym), but this one was terrible. Written–or more accurately, overwritten–in a morbidly melodramatic and pretentious prose, hobbled by both a lack of pace and crippling lack of credibility, its one redeeming feature is a closely reasoned explanation of the logic of the deduction of the killer's identity. The story is narrated by the daughter of a retired NYC police inspector, and it serves as a clear demonstration of the author's lack of understanding of women, while trying to ascribe deductive powers to her. Drury Lane is absent for much of the book, drafted in in the last quarter to supply an embarrassingly incredible soliloquy to an execution chamber in a prison. Really bad, and it pains me to say so. But it is truly awful.

Not the best Carr or even the best Fell, but I had no trouble maintaining interest through this “Impossible” murder mystery from 1940. Some of the situations call uncomfortable attention to the moral and scientific attitudes of eighty years ago, but it holds up pretty well if you can put on the mindset of the time when reading. I've read most of the Carr novels with Gideon Fell, and find the Henry Merrivale novels too full of “comedy” for my taste. Having burned through most of Christie and Sayers and lots of Berkeley and all of Tey, I'm kind of down to lesser known Golden Age, so perhaps I give this one a bit of a pass, as it's a reminder of better books.

This really didn't do anything for me. It's more a domestic comedy than a mystery, about three overly precocious kids whose mother is a mystery novelist. It was breezily written and there was a murder to be solved, but most of the book is taken up with smart-alec dialogue and the kids putting one over on adults. Might have made an entertaining 1943 movie, but as a mystery novel it doesn't really cut it.

Ol' Reliable Rex Stout delivers again. great plot, clever crime, enjoyable unraveling and fun during the whole process. The Nero Wolfe mysteries are perhaps the most reliably entertaining mysteries of all, as I've never encountered a dud. There may be one, but I've not read it yet. So I will continue to read them.

Better than I was expecting, as it's post-war Carr. Good characters and lots of intrigue and misdirection, plus the atmosphere that Carr is so good at. And the usual end of book explanation of all the things that didn't make sense earlier on. (It should be noted that the term “hysteria” is used freely in this explanation. It is clearly dated, as this term is only used as a medical diagnosis in primitive and anti-female contexts. But if you substitute “histrionic personality disorder”, it all makes sense.) Certainly not on the level of his best work in the 1930's but worthy of a read.

A fabulous surprise: I loved this. Loved the characters, loved the pace, loved the dialogue, loved the story. Read it a very short time and will now look to read all of Craven's books. An exciting, fun, gripping and completely absorbing crime novel with a great pair of main characters and a well-researched and completely believable story. Loved it!

I made the foolish mistake of delaying reading this because of memories of the silly Charlie Chan movies I had seen as a kid. This was fun from start to finish; the “wildness” of Hawaii versus the staid conservatism of the mainland, the multi-layered plot, multiple red herrings and Charlie Chan's amusing (if faintly racist) turns of speech, with the consequent underestimation of his sagacity. Manged the unusual feat of making an entertaining mystery and a fun story in one book. Recommended.