Though I am, at the very least, a voracious reader, and I like my classics, I had never before read anything by Robert Ludlum. And I’m pretty sure I never will again. I figured a classic like the Bourne Identity would be a cinch, action packed drama, ideally suited for a very long drive through France. Alas. In the audio version Jason Bourne is nothing like Matt Damon!

The original book was published in 1975. Which is fine. People sending cables actually lent a certain quaintness to the proceedings. But after a while the slow pace began to drive me insane. Did people really have that much more time in the Seventies? There was TV back then, right? Oddly enough, the slow pace is what attracts me to loads of other books, say M.C. Beaton’s Hamish Macbeth series, Jane Austen, Agatha Christie or David Guterson’s wonderful books. But in what is supposed to be an action packed, edge of your seat, experience the plot just dully ploughed on.
Matters weren’t helped by the fact that the guy reading this audio version, Scott Brick, sounded as if he was bored senseless as well. I’d seriously give this a miss.

Emily Murphy is a neglected middle aged woman. Overweight, unkempt, unhappy. All this is about to change when she hires a new cleaner, Mae McNulty.

Mae is kindness personified in a domestic goddess with long blond curls and a body to die for. She has four kids from four different dads. She hasn’t got an unkind bone in her shapely body, even though she works her fingers to the bone supporting her kids, her granddad and her scrounging father. Emily lives in the lap of luxury, with a wildly successful, but also arrogant and unkind husband. He’s on the verge of the biggest deal of his life, while she spent her days aimlessly drifting through the house, but a chance meeting with Mae’s dad changes all that!

Mrs. Murphy hires a cleaner is a friendly, fluffy romp. Both Mae and Emily are unlikely characters, and not much more than cardboard cutouts. By the end I felt the author was trying to sow things up in an unholy hurry and things get jumbled. Nothing that will stay with you longer than five seconds, but excellent beach or backyard fodder. I actually really enjoyed it!

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I started on Bryson’s A short history of nearly everything a long, long time ago. It bored me to tears. Load of jumbled, disjointed stories piled on top of each other, or that’s as far as I got anyway. So when I accidentally stumbled on A walk in the woods I wasn’t expecting much. And I was ever so pleasantly surprised!

You know when you read a book and you want everyone you love to read that book as well? They don’t come by that often, for me, but David Guterson’s East of the mountains was one, and Michael Cunningham’s The Hours. Wow. Unlike those two books, who are deeply moving and, I thought, life altering in their sheer beauty, A walk in the woods is just very, very funny. Bryson has moved back to the US after 20 years in Britain, to a village, somewhere in New Hampshire. The famous Appalachian Trail basically runs through his backyard, so he decides he should walk the darn thing. Mind you: the Trail runs for 2100 miles, through inhospitable terrain, from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. Definitely not a walk in the park!

Bryson tells everyone he knows, and, I expect, his publisher as well, so he can’t back out anymore, when he starts reading up on the Trail, and all the stuff that can go wrong. Grizzly bears. Cougars. Mad men. Snakes. Freezing to death. To name a few. So Bill decides he really needs a companion, if only so he has someone to say “Did you hear that?” to. And doesn’t have to die alone.

There aren’t many takers and the date of his departure is looming when an unlikely old friend called Katz offers to come with him. Not the fittest of prospective walking comrades, “he brought to mind Orson Welles after a very bad night.” And this is where the fun really starts! I won’t say anymore, but it turns out to be a riotously funny adventure, and it made me think that a) I really want to do some long distance walking and b) that won’t be anywhere near the Appalachian Trail!

Bryson reads his own work and as practically always that really enhances the listening experience. He’s self deprecating, which I like, and he has a pleasant voice. Go on, give it whirl!

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I always mean to meditate for the twenty to thirty minutes, twice a day. I never do, but lately I have managed once a day for ten minutes, which must be progress, at least?

The Chopra centre is Deepak Chopra’s brain child. They do all kinds of meditation and relaxation exercise. I’ve tried quite a few, but none suited me like the Sohum meditation. It tkes ten minutes, and a kindly voice leads you through it: basically, you breathe in thinking “so” and breathe out through your nose thinking “hum”. That’s it! I find my mind wanders like a hare running across a field, but I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be when you start. Still difficult, but I feel I get much more relaxed when I do it for even my ten minutes.

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I seem to be unable to stop listening to Hamish MacBeth mysteries! Unlike other addictions, such as smoking or chocolate, it’s too innocent for therapy (so far), but it’s weird… However, this was a much better listen than Death of a perfect housewife!

The subject matter is pretty similar: an English stranger comes to a small Highland village and turns everybody’s staid lives upside down. This time it’s a very attractive man, who turns the heads of Drim’s middle aged women. But the men aren’t overjoyed….

Hamish and posh Priscilla are unofficially engaged this time, but all is not going well, as misunderstanding is heaped on misunderstanding. However, the story is less of a collection of mishaps and coincidences and has an actual plot line. I was quite surprised about whodunnit! Davina Porter also read this one, and I’m starting to really like her voice. All in all, much, much better than Death of a perfect housewife!

Claire and Sidney Waverly grew up in their ancestral home, watched over by a magic apple tree. Both sisters have been born with very special gifts, but are they ready to embrace those gifts?

Being a Waverly has its ups and its down sides. Because they have special gifts they are feared and sought out. Claire’s talent is cooking with flowers, which she uses to make people feel a certain way or face the truth. She lives for her garden and never lets anybody in. Sidney left home the first chance she got, because she didn’t want to be a Waverly. But after years with an abusive husband she feels she needs to run home again, for safety.

Read by Susan Ericksen, who does a good job. The story is interesting. Ish. But it seems to be all over the place. Is this about coming home? Abusive men? Sisterhood? Family secrets? Magic? A bit of all of the above? I think a bit more focus wouldn’t have gone awry. And I’d love to try one of those apples…..

I’m a lot easier when I’m listening to stuff than when I actually have to turn the pages. Yep, I guess I am THAT lazy! I didn’t like an earlier MC Beaton offering, Agatha Raisin. Terrible story, weak links and I just loathed Agatha herself. Still, when I heard about Hamish MacBeth, a clever copper in the Scottish highlands, I figured I’d give it another go!

Police man Hamish MacBeth likes his life quiet. He lives in a small village in the Scottish highlands, with his sheep and his loyal dog, pining for the daughter of the manor, and would like to keep it this way. But sometimes a dead body or two can get in the way of having “a wee dram”! When strangers Trixie and Paul Thomas move into Hamish’ small village they stir up all kinds of trouble. Trixie is an overbearing feminist who rouses the female population into rebellion against their mild husbands, forcing granola and dandelion coffee on them Hamish isn’t surprised when Trixie ends up dead….

Davina Porter narrates, and she does a pretty good job. I’m not Scottish, so I couldn’t judge her Scottish accent, but she sounds pretty convincing to me! Her Trixie made me want to throttle the woman, which was probably the point. However, Hamish himself sounded very dull and slow, which is also as he should most likely sound, but it got a bit annoying after a while. I love the sound of Scottish accents though! All in all, I don’t think MC Beaton is a particularly gifted narrator. As with the Agatha Raisin story, this Hamish whodunnit is disjointed and relies heavily on coincidence. It’s silly and relaxing stuff, but I found the plot, such as it was, rather disappointing. Hamish is a lot more likeable than Agatha Raisin though, and I like his views on life. More people should be that contented with their lot!

Death of a perfect housewife – Recorded Books LLC; Unabridged edition (2000)

Juliet, naked

I completely missed the fact that the fabulous Hornby had written another book! I loved About a boy, and especially A long way down. Wow. Who knew suicide was quite that hilarious? Juliet, naked is very Hornby, as in funny, weird and slightly unsettling.

The main character in this book is not Juliet, as you might expect, but Annie. She lives in a dull seaside town with the even duller Duncan.
They have drifted together and stuck together basically because nobody else seemed to want them. Now Annie is hitting forty and she is angry about unborn babies and throwing away her life on a guy who’s obsessed with another guy.
You see, dull Duncan is a hardcore fan of Tucker Crowe, a singer from the eighties.
And so holidays are spent visiting toilets where the great man has gone before and Duncan runs a website devoted to Tucker. Not a lot has happened in the past 20 years, but the eleven or so hard core fans from all over the world manage to spend hours and hours chatting about rumors etc. And then suddenly a new album appears…

I enjoyed it immensely, but I was rather disappointed by the last four chapters. Tucker has chucked his career for some dark secret and I must admit that it took me ten minutes (literally!) to vaguely remember what it was. It’s not that dark at all really.

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Deal Breaker, Myron Bolitar

I am a bit of a Bolitar fan. I’ve read all of sports agent Myron’s adventures over the past few years. However, Harlan Coben’s latest addition to the series, The Last Song, isn’t his finest hour.

Myron isn’t a real detective, but he does solve crimes. He’s a failed NBA basketball player, who got his knee smashed to smithereens during his very first ro game and ever since then he’s been struggling and solving crimes. It started out simple enough, Myron and his friend Win (scary, WASPy, very rich guy) help out his sports clients who always seem to get into serious trouble.
I’m not big on sports myself, but the combination of the unlikely hero (unlucky with women, drinks yoo-hoo and still lives with his adoring parents) and the dry humor got me hooked. So I read Back Spin, and Fade Away and Del Breaker. All of them funny and exciting. The plot is usually so complicated that I lose track, but hey, never mind. Most of it’s about Myron getting his ass kicked until Win comes and kills everyone in sight. Fun, fun, fun.
So do read them, all of them!
Skip The Last Song though. Self serving, unbalanced and way over the top, even in this series, it breaks out terrorism, toruture and it was oddly boring. One minute Myron is ready to move to Arizona to be with the woman he loves, the next he’s in Paris with another love of his life.
She’s called him in after her ex-husband disappears. I’d explain the rest of the story, but it’s way too convoluted. But if you start with Deal Breaker, I can guarantee you a great time.

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Sparkles Louise Bagshawe

With the weather like it is and many of the roads still closed I decided to read some nice trashy beach novels, starting with Sparkles. And I quite enjoyed it.

Mousy Brit Sophie married fabulously rich Pierre Massot when she was only 19. He was her prince charming, complete with a castle near Paris, a private jet and loads and loads of sparkle, as he owns a very chic jewelry house. Then one day he simply disappears and Sophie has to decide what to do with the empire.

Within its genre Sparkles isn’t that bad. Cliched, all the main characters are gorgeous, from dull Sophie to her husband’s unhinged mistress. The abundance of descriptions of food made me hungry, and wonder whether the writer was perhaps on a diet and working her cravings into the story, the way the hungry medieval peasant dreamed of Cocagne where fried hens fly into your mouth.

I doubt miss Bagshawe thought this was her best work when she had finished, it lacked surprise, passion, all the characters were flat, and there wasn’t even any sex in it!

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