Category: Reviews

The Mill House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji

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Translated by Ho-Ling Wong

This is the third of Japanese author Yukito Ayatsuji’s books I’ve read – I loved The Labyrinth House Murders but found The Decagon House Murders disappointing, so I was curious to see what I would think of this one. All three books are part of Ayatsuji’s Bizarre House series and all of them feature the detective Shimada Kiyoshi and an unusual, sinister house designed by the architect Nakamura Seiji. The Mill House Murders was originally published in Japanese in 1988 and is available from Pushkin Press in an English translation.

This book is set entirely within the walls of the Mill House which, like the Decagon House and Labyrinth House, is one of Nakamura’s creations. It’s home to Fujinuma Kiichi, who sustained terrible injuries in a car accident several years earlier and is now confined to a wheelchair, with a mask and gloves covering the damage to his face and hands. Kiichi is the son of the late artist Fujinuma Issei, and although he normally lives a reclusive life with his wife, Yurie, and their servants, once a year he invites a group of acquaintances to the house to look at his father’s paintings.

In September 1985, the group are making their annual visit when several shocking events occur, all in the space of one night: a woman falls to her death from the tower, one of Issei’s paintings vanishes, one of the guests disappears without explanation and a gruesome discovery is made in the furnace room. A solution is suggested by the police, but it’s not very satisfactory and lots of questions remain unanswered. A year later, in September 1986, the same people have gathered at the Mill House again and this time they are joined by Shimada Kiyoshi, a friend of the man who disappeared (and was largely blamed for everything that happened). Shimada believes he can find out the truth about the events of 1985, but he’ll have to hurry before history begins to repeat itself.

The Mill House Murders is another Ayatsuji novel that I thoroughly enjoyed, so it does seem that it’s only The Decagon House that, for whatever reason, didn’t work for me and I’m glad I decided to give him another chance! Although I often find that Japanese mysteries focus very heavily on complex puzzle solving, often involving alibis, timetables and maps, with characters, relationships and motives pushed into the background, this particular book is more balanced. It does have some floor plans, but I was pleased to find that I could follow the plot quite easily without having to study them too carefully, and the characterisation is stronger than in the Decagon and Labyrinth books.

The timeline switches backwards and forwards throughout the book, with one chapter describing the events of 1985 and the next set in the present day of 1986. This could have become confusing, but as long as I paid attention to the chapter headings, I had no problem keeping them straight in my mind. The mystery itself is a clever one; I partly managed to solve it (mainly because some of Seishi Yokomizo’s novels have similar tropes), but I didn’t get it completely right and was content to let Shimada Kiyoshi, the series detective, explain the full solution for me.

The translator, Ho-Ling Wong, also translated the other books I’ve read in this series and does a great job of making everything very clear and readable. I see there’s a fourth book in the series already in print – The Clock House Murders – and another, The Black Cat House Murders, on its way. I’ll look forward to reading both!

The Infamous Gilberts by Angela Tomaski

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Welcome to Thornwalk, home of the last Wynford Gilberts – Lydia, Hugo, Annabel, Jeremy and Rosalind. The downfall of this great family was once the subject of much tawdry gossip and many a sensational headline, and perhaps you hold in your heart some remnant, some echo of this. If so, I ask you to let it go, and here, with me, meet them all anew.

The Infamous Gilberts is an English country house novel with a difference. It begins in 2002 with the news that Thornwalk House, a crumbling mansion in Somerset, is being sold to a hotel chain. Before the hotel people arrive and all traces of the family who once lived there are removed forever, an old family friend, Maximus, takes the reader by the hand and leads us through the house, room by room, looking for clues and secrets left behind that reveal who the Gilberts really were. Each chapter is headed by a different item – The Burn on the Library Rug, Dancing Slippers, A Tuft of Wool, etc – and Maximus goes on to tell us the significance of that item and the story behind it.

I found this book very difficult to get into because the writing style felt so forced and artificial. The narrator speaks directly to the reader, as in the quote I provided above, referring to us as ‘you’ and telling us to climb the staircase, open the door, switch on the light and so on. This made it hard to become immersed in the story and form any kind of connection with the characters. I came close to abandoning the book but instead put it aside for a few days and tried again later. This time I persevered and eventually the narrative style became less annoying and intrusive. As the five Gilbert children, whom I found indistinguishable when they were younger, grew into adults, they also developed as characters and I started to find the story much more compelling.

Beginning in the 1920s and ending in the early 21st century, the book follows the lives of the Gilbert siblings who, in the absence of their father, are raised at Thornwalk by a mother who is struggling to cope and largely leaves them to their own devices. As a result, all five become adults who are damaged or troubled in some way. Hugo, the eldest son, goes away to fight in the Second World War and returns deeply affected by his experiences. Depressed, paranoid and increasingly unstable, he starts to take his frustration out on the people around him. His younger brother Jeremy, on the other hand, is rejected by the army on health grounds and is left with a feeling of inadequacy that leads to him leaving home and spending the rest of his adult life moving from country to country, never really settling down.

As for the three sisters, the youngest, Rosalind, becomes an actress and her shocking actions make her the most infamous of all the Gilberts. Then there’s Lydia, who causes another family scandal by falling in love with her tutor as a teenager and after being forced to end the relationship never seems happy or content ever again. Finally, Annabel suffers from an unspecified mental illness and is considered ‘mad’, but in many ways she is the most shrewd and sensible member of the family. Annabel is also the only one I actually liked; apart from Jeremy, whom we barely see, I found the others so unpleasant it was very difficult to have any sympathy for them.

As you can probably tell, this is a very dark book with some disturbing storylines. I’m not sure why the blurb describes it as hilarious, because I didn’t think it was very funny at all, but maybe that’s just me. I didn’t really understand the role of Maximus in the story either; he tells us that he’s a close friend of the family, particularly Hugo, but almost never interacts with them or features in any of the accounts he gives us of their lives. It seemed that he was there purely because the unusual style and structure of the book required someone to be the narrator rather than because he had any other significance.

I think some readers will enjoy this book and some will struggle with it – although somehow I did both! If anyone else has read it, I would love to hear what you thought.

Thanks to Penguin UK/Fig Tree for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The News from Dublin by Colm Tóibín – #ReadingIrelandMonth26

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This month, Cathy of 746 Books is hosting Reading Ireland Month, celebrating the work of Irish authors. I wasn’t sure if I would have time to contribute anything but have managed to fit in a review of Colm Tóibín’s latest book with a few days of March still to go! The News from Dublin, published this week, is a collection of nine short stories loosely linked by a theme of characters either living far from home or building a new life, putting a distance between their current and past selves.

The collection covers a range of topics and settings. The stories were all interesting, but I inevitably found some much stronger than others. The opening story, The Journey to Galway, was particularly moving. A woman receives a telegram informing her of her son’s death in the First World War, so she takes a train to Galway to break the news to her daughter-in-law. Tóibín perfectly captures the range of emotions she goes through during the journey: grief, loss, a sense of denial, and the trauma of being the one who has to deliver bad news.

Another of my favourites was Five Bridges, set in the present day and tackling a subject that is very relevant at the moment. It follows an Irish plumber, Paul, who is an immigrant living in America and, despite having been there for thirty years, he believes he will be a target of ICE because he came on a tourist visa and has no other documents. Before he leaves the country, probably forever, he reconnects with his young daughter, Geraldine, who lives with his ex-partner and her new husband. As Paul bonds with Geraldine at last, he is full of regret, both for the years she’s been missing from his life and for the future he faces without her. I also liked A Sum of Money, which is about a teenage boy whose parents have made sacrifices to be able to send him to an expensive boarding school. Conscious of not having as much money to spend as his friends, he begins to steal from the other boys – but what will happen when he’s found out? I enjoyed this one as it felt a bit different from the rest of the stories, which made it stand out.

I only really have two criticisms of this book. One is that most of the stories are very open-ended, leaving things unresolved and not providing any answers. As a sort of snapshot of life, giving a glimpse into a character’s world, they’re very effective, but I personally tend to prefer short stories with a more satisfactory ending or a clever twist. The other is that the final story, The Catalan Girls, is novella-length and takes up most of the second half of the book. Although I did enjoy that one, which follows the story of three sisters who move to Argentina from Catalonia as children, I thought it made the whole book feel unbalanced.

The stories in this collection were written at various times and first appeared in other publications rather than being written specifically for this book, but they fit together well (apart from the final one being so much longer). They all have a quiet, reflective tone and I found them very poignant. This was a perfect choice for Reading Ireland Month.

Thanks to Picador for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Trouble with Lichen by John Wyndham

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What would you do if someone offered you the chance to live longer? Not just a few years longer, but two or three times the average lifespan? What would be the benefits and the drawbacks? And what if you were the person who had discovered a way to make all of this a reality? These questions form the premise of John Wyndham’s 1960 novel, Trouble with Lichen, the book recently chosen for me to read in the latest Classics Club Spin.

The novel is written from the perspectives of scientists Francis Saxover and Diana Brackley, as well as Francis’ two children, Zephanie and Paul. Diana is a newly qualified biochemist working for Francis at his research facility, Darr House, when they both notice the strange effects of a piece of lichen which has been accidentally dropped into the cat’s saucer of milk. Each without the other’s knowledge, Diana and Francis begin to carry out their own research and both independently come to the same conclusion: the lichen seems to have properties that preserve a youthful appearance and slow down the rate at which people age. Rather than share her findings with Francis, Diana leaves the company and the two don’t see each other again for several years.

Because the supply of this particular species of lichen is very limited – it seems that it only grows in one small part of the world – Francis and Diana both sense that it could be dangerous to make the results of their research public before they’ve found a way to create the substance synthetically in the lab. Francis begins to treat himself with the lichen extract, implanting it beneath his skin, and does the same for his two teenage children, although he doesn’t tell them exactly what it is. Diana, on the other hand, starts her own beauty company, Nefertiti Ltd, and injects the substance into some of her wealthy female clients, again without being honest with them. Of course, it’s only a matter of time before the world learns the truth…

Although I wouldn’t describe myself as a big fan of science fiction, I’ve read and enjoyed several of John Wyndham’s novels. Trouble with Lichen has a slightly different feel – there’s less plot, less action and more discussion of ideas, ethics and moral dilemmas – but I enjoyed this one as well. It was interesting to consider the various implications of increasing our longevity; Francis and Diana seem to assume that everyone will be fighting to get their hands on the substance (referred to as an ‘antigerone’), but the thought of living to be two or three hundred years old doesn’t sound at all appealing to me! What do you think? Would you like to?

The novel has a strong feminist message, which isn’t really what I expected from a book written by a male author in the 1960s, and I appreciate what he was trying to do, although it didn’t always work! Diana believes she can create a future where women don’t need to rush into marriage because their childbearing years will last a lot longer, giving them time to pursue a meaningful career. This is the motive behind Nefertiti – she wants to gain the support of some of the world’s most powerful and influential women – but the way she goes about it, giving the drug to her clients without their knowledge, is completely unethical however she tries to justify it. There’s also a strong implication that the biggest benefit for women is that they’ll be able to continue looking young and attractive for much longer, which will keep their husbands happy.

This isn’t one of my favourite books by Wyndham and if you’re new to his work, I would recommend starting with a different one – maybe The Day of the Triffids or The Midwich Cuckoos – but although it’s not the most exciting story, it’s definitely a fascinating one. The final section is particularly interesting, where we see a whole range of different views from journalists, political parties, religious groups, trade unions and the general public. Not all of our questions are answered by the end of the book – in fact, I found the ending quite abrupt – but we are certainly left with a lot to think about!

This is book 1/50 from my third Classics Club list.

West by Carys Davies – #ReadingWales26

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This month Karen of Booker Talk and Kathryn of Nut Press are hosting Reading Wales, celebrating the work of Welsh authors. I have chosen a book by Carys Davies, an author born in Llangollen, North Wales. Last year I read and enjoyed her most recent book, Clear, which is set in Scotland during the Highland Clearances. West, published in 2018, was her first novel and the setting and subject matter are very different, but the two books do share some similar themes.

West is set in America in the early 19th century, a few years after the famous Lewis and Clark Expedition, and revolves around Cy Bellman, a widowed mule breeder who lives in Pennsylvania with his ten-year-old daughter, Bess. Inspired by stories of the expedition and by an article he reads in the newspaper describing the discovery of huge animal bones found in a Kentucky swamp, Cy decides to set out on a journey west to find the giant animals he believes must still be roaming in the wild. Everyone else thinks he’s a fool, including his sister Julie, but Cy is determined to prove them all wrong.

As well as following Cy Bellman’s journey into the wilderness, Davies explores the effects his departure has on Bess, left behind on the mule farm with Aunt Julie as her father rides off into uncharted territories. He tells her he’ll back in a year, or maybe two, but that’s a very long time for a ten-year-old girl and she thinks about her father daily. Unlike the others, Bess doesn’t think he’s being foolish – she’s proud of him and thinks of him as a brave, noble figure. She has no doubt that he’ll find the animals he’s searching for and will return safe and well. Her own wellbeing, however, is a different matter, as in Bellman’s absence, their scheming neighbour Elmer Jackson has set his sights on the farm and the women who live there.

Davies writes from the perspectives of both Cy and Bess, with occasional sections from other characters’ points of view. The passages describing the landscape Cy passes through as he travels west are vivid and feel authentic, stressing the vastness of the land, the harshness of the winters and the sense of isolation as he moves further away from civilization. Along the way he acquires a guide, a Shawnee boy with the unflattering name of Old Woman from a Distance, who helps him hunt for food and navigate dangerous river crossings in return for gifts of ribbons, beads and other small items. Cy’s attitude towards his guide is as you would expect, given the time period, and now and then we also get a glimpse of the guide’s thoughts about Cy. The fact that neither speaks the other’s language adds another obstacle to their relationship and despite spending so much time in each other’s company, neither makes the attempt to learn. Instead, they communicate through looks and gestures and through showing emotion. This idea of communication without a common language is explored in more depth in Davies’ later book, Clear.

West is novella-length, which makes it a quick read, but it’s also a powerful, gripping story and I don’t think it needed to be any longer. I’m looking forward to reading Davies’ other novel, The Mission House, and her two short story collections.

Appointment in Paris by Jane Thynne

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This is a sequel to Jane Thynne’s Midnight in Vienna, which I read in 2024 and enjoyed. That book was set just before the beginning of the Second World War and followed two characters – former MI5 spy, Harry Fox, and a gifted linguist, Stella Fry – who team up to look into the suspicious death of a famous crime writer. Appointment in Paris brings Harry and Stella together again to investigate a second murder, but this one is a separate mystery so if you haven’t read the first book yet, it’s not completely essential.

The novel opens in April 1940 at Trent Park, a country house in Cockfosters, north London. The house has been requisitioned by the government as a facility for holding captured German pilots who have no idea that their rooms are bugged with microphones while a team of ‘listeners’ eavesdrop on their conversations. One night, a man in a Luftwaffe captain’s uniform is found dead in the grounds and the next morning, it’s discovered that one of the listeners has disappeared. Assuming that the missing man killed the German captain and then fled, the people in charge are desperate to catch him in case he gives away any of Trent Park’s secrets. This is where Harry and Stella come in…

Since the events of the previous novel, Stella Fry has settled into a new job making documentaries for the GPO Film Unit and is not very happy when she’s summoned by Maxwell Knight of MI5 who orders her to go and work at Trent Park as a listener. Stella is reluctant to go but her fluency in German and the fact that the suspected killer is an old friend from her university days means she’s the ideal choice to go undercover and try to find out what really happened. Meanwhile, Harry Fox has also been given orders by Knight – his mission is to stay in London and look for any information that could lead them to the missing man.

I enjoyed Appointment in Paris just as much as the first book, although I would have liked to have seen Harry and Stella working together more closely – they have very separate storylines in this book and their paths only cross occasionally. Stella’s story was the one that interested me most. I loved learning more about Trent Park and the work of the listeners, many of whom were German-Jewish refugees who had fled persecution and were assisting the British war effort. It was an emotionally difficult, often unpleasant job as the listeners would overhear all kinds of disturbing conversations between the German prisoners. As the title suggests, Stella’s investigations eventually take her to Paris, where she meets Noël Coward, who is running Britain’s Bureau of Propaganda. Although most of the characters in the book are fictional, inserting a real person here didn’t feel too forced or unnatural, especially as Coward had already been referenced several times via Stella’s actress friend, Evelyn, who is performing in one of his plays.

As she does in the previous novel, Thynne evokes the time period perfectly, describing the mood of the public during the eight months known as the Phoney War and how things abruptly changed in May 1940 with the invasion of France, Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands, and the increased threat to Britain. It’s the little details that give the novel its colour – people hurrying home earlier than usual in the evenings because the blackout made it difficult to walk in the dark; newspapers shrinking in size because Scandinavian pulp supplies had been cut off; Parisian waiters taking payment before serving food because they are often interrupted by air raid sirens and the patrons forget to pay. The strong sense of time and place makes everything feel real and convincing.

Having enjoyed both books about Stella and Harry, I’m now hoping there’s going to be a third. The way this one ended definitely made me think that there will be – and as we’re still in 1940, there’s a lot more of the war to cover. I would also like to read some of her earlier novels, which also sound interesting.

Thanks to Quercus for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Travel Light by Naomi Mitchison

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What an unusual book this is! I’ve been interested in reading something by Naomi Mitchison for a long time (I did have The Corn King and the Spring Queen on my Classics Club list at one point, before replacing it), so when I spotted this novella on NetGalley, it seemed like a good opportunity to try one of her books.

Travel Light was published in 1952, two years before The Lord of the Rings, which Mitchison proofread for her friend Tolkien, and as you can probably guess from the cover, it’s one of Mitchison’s own contributions to the fantasy genre. It tells the story of Halla, a king’s daughter, who is cast out as a baby because the new queen resents her. She is rescued by her nurse, Matulli, who transforms herself into a black bear, picks up the baby in her mouth and carries her into the woods, where she is raised with a group of bear cubs. When Matulli and the other bears prepare for their winter hibernation, Halla is entrusted to the care of Uggi the dragon, who becomes her friend and mentor.

The book is divided into three sections and the first is devoted to Halla’s childhood with the bears and the dragons, as I’ve described above. I really liked this first section; it has the feel of a children’s fairy tale and I particularly enjoyed reading about Halla’s time with the dragons on Dragon Mountain, where she learns about their love of collecting gold and is told stories of heroes rescuing princesses from dragons. These stories lead Halla to question whether the damsels in distress really wanted to be rescued and whether the heroes are really so heroic after all!

Despite growing up feeling that she’s half bear/half dragon, Halla eventually has to accept that she is, in fact, a human, and in the second part of the book she ends up joining a group of men from the fictional land of Marob who are on their way to Micklegard (or Byzantium, later known as Constantinople) to ask the emperor for protection against their cruel governor. The book loses some of its charm after this; it becomes more grounded in reality, the politics and religion of men play a bigger part, and things happen that showed me that it’s not really the children’s fantasy I thought it was at first – or at least not one I would recommend for young children. There are still plenty of enjoyable moments, though – I loved the idea of racehorses deciding amongst themselves who should win the race – and I found the ending of the book quite satisfying.

Norse myth features heavily in the story, with references to the Norns and the weaving of fate, a Valkyrie who keeps popping up at various times throughout the book, and an encounter between Halla and the All-Father (Odin). It’s the All-Father who, just before Halla joins the world of humans, gives her a part of his night-blue cloak for protection and tells her to set aside the treasure-hoarding habits of the dragons and ‘travel light’, without material possessions or mental burdens, as she moves forward into her new life.

At 192 pages in the new Virago edition, this is a quick read. Although I found it uneven, as an example of an older fantasy novel written by a woman and featuring a female protagonist I think it’s well worth reading.

Thanks to Virago for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.