Category: Reviews

Love and Other Poisons by Lesley McDowell

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I wasn’t sure whether to read this new novel by Lesley McDowell as I didn’t get on very well with her last one, Clairmont. Although I liked her writing, I struggled with the structure, the way it would jump from one timeline to another and the lack of context to explain characters’ backgrounds and relationships. I like to give authors a second chance, though, and this book, based on a true crime, did sound intriguing…

In 1857, Madeleine Smith is put on trial in Glasgow for the murder of her lover, Emile L’Angelier. After listening to witnesses and examining the evidence, the jury, still unable to decide whether she is guilty, give a verdict of ‘Not Proven’ and Madeleine is set free. Seventy years later, Harry Townsend, an aspiring filmmaker, believes he has tracked down the woman who used to be Madeleine Smith, now living in New York as a respectable elderly widow, Mrs Sheehy. Harry wants to interview her about Emile’s murder, but when Mrs Sheehy refuses to cooperate, Harry is forced to question whether he has got the right person after all.

We move back and forth between 1857 and 1927 throughout the book, but I found it much easier to follow the plot and understand what was going on than I did with Clairmont, which was a relief! The first few sections were interesting as they set the scene and introduced the characters, but then we settled into the 1857 period and the story of Madeleine’s relationship with Emile and my attention began to waver. There’s a lot of focus on their sexual encounters, some of which are described quite explicitly (I understood why later on), and I started to get impatient waiting for the murder to happen. It does happen eventually, of course, and I was glad I stuck with the book as I found the aftermath of the murder and Madeleine’s trial much more compelling to read about.

Although I did have some sympathy for Madeleine’s position – Emile had become very manipulative and controlling, threatening her with blackmail – I never really warmed to her as a character and I felt that she could have handled the situation differently. I also didn’t like the way she implicated not just the maid Christina, who arranged meetings and passed letters between Madeleine and Emile, but also her own twelve-year-old sister, Janet. None of the other characters in the book were very likeable either; the way Harry Townsend treated the older Madeleine was horrible and I hoped he would never get to make his film! There’s a twist in that particular storyline which I hadn’t guessed, but which seems to fit well with the historical facts.

I’ve never read about the Madeleine Smith case before, although it seems to be well documented, and I wonder whether my perception of this book would have been different if I already knew some of the details before I started to read. Anyway, it was all new to me and I was fascinated by the author’s note at the end of the book where she explained the origins of the novel – the idea was suggested to her by fellow author Emma Tennant who had wanted to work on it as a joint project before her death – and how she chose to interpret some of the historical evidence. She discusses her theory regarding the murder method and weapon (this is where the strong sexual content earlier in the novel suddenly made sense), and how she tried to piece together the clues we have regarding Madeleine’s later life after the trial.

I enjoyed this book more than I thought I would, having seen a lot of very mixed early reviews – but at the same time, I do understand some of the criticisms. Still, I found it interesting to learn about a true crime I was previously unaware of and which has inspired a large number of other novels, plays and adaptations.

Thanks to Headline/Wildfire for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 11/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

Come, Tell Me How You Live by Agatha Christie

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This was surprisingly good! Not being a big non-fiction reader or having a particular interest in reading about archaeological digs, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book and only picked it up because it’s this month’s selection for the Read Christie 2025 challenge. However, I needn’t have worried – I found it a funny, light-hearted and vibrant account of Christie’s time in the Middle East, with no long, dry descriptions of digs, and just as enjoyable to read as some of her detective novels.

Come, Tell Me How You Live was first published in 1946 under the name Agatha Christie Mallowan (her married name). The title is a play on words as a ‘Tell’ is an archaeological term for an artificial mound created by debris from generations of human occupation – therefore indicating the site of an abandoned town or city. The book describes Christie’s experiences of visiting Syria, a country rich in ancient Tells, in the 1930s with her archaeologist husband, Max Mallowan.

From the opening pages, where Christie writes about the difficulties of acquiring suitable clothing for a trip to Syria during the British winter – and the indignities of being informed that she’s O.S. (outsized) – her sense of humour shines through and continues to do so for the rest of the book. She’s prepared to poke fun at herself and Max but also brings the other people in the book to life with witty observations and amusing little anecdotes. Michel, their driver, who is obsessed with being ‘economical’, allows their truck to run out of fuel in the desert because he was curious to see how far it would last without filling up and almost buys two hundred rotten oranges at a market just because he’s negotiated a good price for them. Then there’s Mac, the solemn, silent young architect who accompanies them on the trip, who never seems to show any emotion, no matter what the occasion. I also loved the Postmaster, who constantly tries to get the Mallowans to accept any letter addressed to a random European, and the ‘professional cat’ who comes to the rescue during their stay in Amuda in a house infested by rodents and insects.

There may be some passages and attitudes that aren’t entirely acceptable to a modern reader, but Christie was writing for a 1940s audience and I think she was generally respectful of the Syrian people and their culture. With this book, she provides a lot of insight into what it was like to be an Englishwoman so far from home, in a world so different from her own. What she doesn’t provide is any detailed information on archaeology or their finds. Her focus is always on everyday life and her general impressions of the landscape, the people she meets and their customs. Even her writing is barely mentioned, although we know that she was working on novels such as Murder on the Orient Express during her time in Syria.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and am grateful to the Read Christie challenge for highlighting it this month. I’ll be taking part again in August with the Poirot mystery One, Two, Buckle My Shoe.

Book 10/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Mourning Necklace by Kate Foster

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Some people become famous for their remarkable lives and others for their remarkable deaths. Maggie Dickson is one of the latter – although technically, it wasn’t really a death at all! Known as ‘Half-Hangit Maggie’, Maggie Dickson was sentenced to death in 1724 and hanged in Edinburgh’s Grassmarket. As her family gather in a nearby tavern, they are shocked to look up and see Maggie herself standing at the door. Other than a rope burn around her neck, she seems unharmed by her ordeal and determined to make the most of the second chance she’s been given. But while everyone has questions for her – how did she survive and how did it feel to be so close to death? – there’s only one question that matters now to Maggie: will they try to hang her again?

Maggie Dickson was a real person and the story of her survival is a true one, still remembered three hundred years later; Maggie Dickson’s Pub in Edinburgh is named after her and she is often featured in Edinburgh walking tours. In The Mourning Necklace, Kate Foster builds a fictional story around this amazing woman and her near-death experience, using her imagination to fill in the gaps around the historical facts.

The year before she receives her death sentence, Maggie is living with her parents and younger sister, Joan, in Fisherrow, a small fishing community in Musselburgh, Scotland. The Dickson family have made their living from fish for generations, but Maggie doesn’t see a future for herself as a fishwife and wants something different out of life. Her marriage to Patrick Spencer, a perfume trader, seems to offer the opportunities she’s looking for, but when things don’t go according to plan, she takes control of her own fate and sets out alone for London. However, she gets no further than Kelso in the Scottish Borders before she is forced to make a series of decisions that will lead her back to Edinburgh and the gallows.

I enjoyed Kate Foster’s last novel, The King’s Witches, but I thought this one was much better and I connected with Maggie Dickson in a way that I didn’t with the women in the other book. There’s also a strong cast of supporting characters, including Joan, whose actions as a sister disappoint Maggie over and over again; Mrs Rose, who betrays Maggie for reasons of her own but at the same time is one of the few people to offer her friendship; and the wicked Dr McTavish, one of the book’s villains. All of these people have key parts to play in Maggie’s story, which is divided into three sections: the events leading up to her arrest, the hanging itself, and the path her life follows after she escapes death.

Maggie’s crime is something that will surprise a lot of modern readers as, although she unknowingly broke the laws of the time, today we wouldn’t really consider her to have committed a crime at all (at least not if Kate Foster’s interpretation is close to the truth). At first I assumed that as the death sentence was usually given as ‘hanged by the neck until dead’, it would be decided that Maggie had not served the sentence and would be hanged again. However, it wasn’t as straightforward as that because it seems that the sentence at that time was simply ‘hanged by the neck’ and the additional words were added later to avoid ambiguity in cases like hers.

This is a fascinating novel, with some great descriptions of 18th century Musselburgh, Edinburgh and Kelso. We also learn a little bit about the tea smuggling which was widespread down the east coast of Scotland and England due to high taxes on imported tea. I loved it and must find time to go back and read Kate Foster’s first book, The Maiden.

Thanks to Pan Macmillan/Mantle for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Art of a Lie by Laura Shepherd-Robinson

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I’ve enjoyed all of Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s previous books, particularly The Square of Sevens, so this is one of the new releases I’ve been most looking forward to reading this year. It has many of the same elements as her others – an 18th century setting, a mystery to be solved, lots of surprising plot twists and characters who are not quite as they seem! This one also features ice cream, which makes it a perfect summer read.

The Art of a Lie opens in London in 1749 and the first section is narrated by Hannah Cole, whose husband Jonas was found dead in the street several months earlier, seemingly the victim of a robbery. Since his death, Hannah has continued running their business, a confectionery shop known as the Punchbowl and Pineapple, but is struggling financially. A visit from the magistrate, Henry Fielding – who is also the author of the recently published Tom Jones – brings her some welcome news: Jonas had a large sum of money in his bank account that she knew nothing about. Unfortunately, her excitement is short-lived because Fielding also tells her that he suspects the money was acquired illicitly and that Jonas was probably not just the victim of a random attack as first thought, but was murdered by someone he knew.

A second way of improving her financial position soon presents itself to Hannah when a gentleman enters the Punchbowl and Pineapple and introduces himself as William Devereux, a friend of her late husband’s. William gives Hannah a recipe for ‘iced cream’, a frozen dessert made by his mother, who was raised in Italy. Despite some initial problems – freezing cream without the aid of an electric freezer is not an easy task – the new treat proves a big success. And soon William is helping her to solve a bigger problem – the question of who killed Jonas Cole and where the money in his bank came from.

The perspective switches between Hannah and William several times throughout the novel, with each narrator being given a distinctive narrative voice of their own. I felt a stronger connection with Hannah, but seeing things from William’s point of view provides a whole different side to the story. It quickly becomes clear to the reader that neither one of them is being completely honest with the other (or with anyone else) and that, as the title suggests, this really is a novel about the art of telling lies! It was fascinating to follow both of their narratives, wondering who was going to come out on top. The ending of the book wasn’t really what I’d expected and although I would have preferred the ending I had expected, it was good to be taken by surprise!

I loved the setting of the book, particularly the descriptions of Hannah’s shop and all the cakes, chocolates and sweets she sells. I enjoyed reading about her experiments with different varieties of ice cream (don’t miss the author’s note at the end of the book, which has some factual information about the history of ice cream in the UK). The inclusion of Henry Fielding as a character in the book was also interesting – he really was Chief Magistrate of Westminster at the time the story is set and was the founder of the Bow Street Runners, London’s first police force.

The Square of Sevens is still my favourite Laura Shepherd-Robinson book, but I think it’s just a matter of personal taste and I’m sure some readers will like this one better. It reminded me very much of The Queen of Fives by Alex Hay and I think if you enjoyed that one you’ll probably enjoy this one as well.

Thanks to Pan Macmillan/Mantle for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 9/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Spiral Staircase by Ethel Lina White

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Originally published as Some Must Watch in 1933, this is a reissue by Pushkin Vertigo under the title The Spiral Staircase – the name of the 1946 film adaptation. I’ve previously read two other novels by Ethel Lina White – The Wheel Spins and Fear Stalks the Village – and enjoyed both, although I found the former slightly disappointing in comparison with Alfred Hitchock’s wonderful The Lady Vanishes, which is based on it. This book has turned out to be my favourite of the three!

Almost the entire novel is set within the walls of the Summit, a lonely country house near the Welsh/English border. Adding to the sense of tension and claustrophobia, the main events of the story also take place over the course of a single evening. As the novel opens, we learn that four murders have recently been committed – the first two in the nearest town, which is over twenty miles away, the next slightly closer, and the fourth in another country house just five miles from the Summit. All four victims were young women and their deaths are on Helen Capel’s mind as she returns to the Summit after her afternoon off and is convinced that she sees a man hiding behind a tree in the dark.

Helen has just started a new job as ‘help’ to the Warren family – Miss Warren and her brother, known as the Professor, and their elderly, bedridden stepmother, Lady Warren. At the start of the novel, the Professor’s son and his wife are staying at the house, as is a student of the Professor’s, Stephen Rice. The rest of the household is made up of two more domestic servants, Mr and Mrs Oates, and the newly arrived Nurse Barker, who has been employed to look after Lady Warren.

When news of another murder, closer than ever this time, reaches the family, the Professor orders that all the doors are locked and everyone stays inside until morning. These should be easy enough instructions to follow, yet for a variety of reasons, one person after another leaves the house or becomes otherwise incapacitated. As a storm rages outside and the tension builds inside, Helen is forced to confront the idea that one of the remaining people in the house could be the murderer.

This book is good fun, but you do need to be able to suspend disbelief now and then (Helen is one of those heroines typical of this genre of book, who, despite knowing there’s a murderer on the loose, tries to open the front door every time someone knocks and spends most of the night wandering around the house on her own, along dark passageways and up and down dimly-lit staircases). Still, Ethel Lina White does a great job of creating an atmosphere of foreboding and fear, not just through stormy weather and shadows, but also through hints that various characters may not be as they seem. Is Lady Warren really unable to walk – and why does she have a gun in her room? And what if Nurse Barker isn’t really a nurse?

I found this a quick, entertaining read, let down slightly by the ending because the killer’s identity wasn’t particularly surprising and their motive was unconvincing. If you’re looking for a cleverly plotted mystery, I think you’ll be disappointed as I would describe this as much more of a psychological horror/suspense novel than a crime novel. It reminded me a lot of Benighted by J.B. Priestley and I think if you enjoyed one there’s a good chance you would enjoy the other. After finishing this book, I watched the film for the first time (it’s currently available on YouTube) and while it’s worth watching in its own right, I didn’t feel that it had much in common with the book!

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

Book 8/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

These Wicked Devices by Matthew Plampin

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I’ve only read one Matthew Plampin book – Mrs Whistler, about the life of Maud Franklin, the model and muse of the artist James McNeill Whistler – so I was intrigued by the description of his new one, which is set in an entirely different time and place. These Wicked Devices takes us to Rome in the summer of 1650 and introduces us to three separate characters whose stories become entwined in various ways.

First, we meet Sister Orsola, a Benedictine nun who has fled to Rome after the city of Castro, including the convent that was her home, was razed to the ground on the Pope’s orders. Orsola is accompanied by Sister Serafina, a choir nun who goes into trance-like states where she endlessly recites the lives of the saints. In the final hours before Castro’s destruction, the Mother Abbess had asked Orsola to protect Serafina and help her find another convent where she could live in safety. Orsola agreed, hoping that performing this task would help her to atone for the sin of giving birth to a child who died unbaptised.

Another thread of the novel follows Donna Olimpia Maidalchini, the most important woman in Rome. As the sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X, she is regarded as the real power behind the papal throne, involving herself in politics and the appointment of positions within the church. At the beginning of the novel, Donna Olimpia is negotiating with France to help a French invasion force seize the Kingdom of Naples from Spain.

Finally, we meet Juan de Pareja , newly arrived in Rome from Spain. Juan is an assistant and slave of the Spanish artist, Diego Velázquez, who hopes to paint a portrait of the Pope. When Juan discovers some secret papers hidden inside a metal statue, however, he suspects that there’s also another reason for their presence in Rome.

These three storylines alternate throughout the book, clearly marked with the Latin headings Sorores (sisters), Domina (mistress) and Servus (servant), to indicate whose perspective we’ll be reading from next. The three do merge together a lot, but I did find myself preferring one over the others – the one about Sisters Orsola and Serafina. There’s a real sense of danger as they are suspected of being heretics due to their connection with Castro and Orsola isn’t sure who can and can’t be trusted as she tries to carry out her promise to the Abbess. There was a lot to interest me in Juan de Pareja’s story as well – his relationship with his master, Diego Velázquez, his own ambitions of becoming an artist and his desire to live his life as a free man – but I found Donna Olimpia’s sections less engaging, maybe because she herself is much less likeable as a person.

Plampin creates a strong sense of time and place, with vivid descriptions of the piazzas, fountains, palazzi and churches of Rome as the city bakes in a late spring heatwave. I found the writing style quite dry, though, so for me this was an interesting read rather than an entertaining one. Still, it was good to add to my knowledge of a period in Rome’s history that I knew very little about.

Thanks to The Borough Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 7/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

Strange Houses by Uketsu

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“I can’t tell you how many people have told me their scary house stories.

But none of them can compare to the houses in this story. These strange, strange houses.”

I loved Uketsu’s Strange Pictures when I read it earlier this year, so I was excited to see another of his books, Strange Houses, available on NetGalley. Like the first book, this one has been translated into English from the original Japanese by translator Jim Rion. Also like the first book, it contains a number of illustrations and diagrams that form an important part of the story.

The novel begins with our narrator, a freelance writer, being approached by his friend Yanaoka, who is searching for a suitable house in which he and his wife can raise their first child. Having viewed a house in a quiet residential area of Tokyo, Yanaoka and his wife have both fallen in love with it but are confused by the floor plan which shows a ‘dead space’ – in other words, a tiny hidden room with no doors. The narrator has another friend, Kurihara, who is an architect, so he decides to ask his opinion.

When Kurihara studies the floor plans, he picks up on several other unusual features of the house. These, together with the hidden room, lead him to form a bizarre but terrifyingly logical explanation for the design of the building. Yanaoka chooses not to buy it, but the narrator is intrigued and continues digging into the house’s history, uncovering connections with some other equally strange houses!

I really enjoyed the first half of this book, almost as much as Strange Pictures. It has a similarly interactive feel, where we are encouraged to look at the illustrations and identify the clues in them along with the narrator. Although Kurihara’s theory about the design of the Tokyo house seems ridiculously far-fetched, it does also make sense when you consider the layout of the rooms, the positions of doors and windows and the location of the house itself. I would never have imagined that floor plans could be creepy, but the ones in this book certainly are!

A difference between this book and Strange Pictures is that the other book is made up of several separate but interconnected stories, while this one consists of just one plot and one set of characters. The change in format means this book feels less varied and innovative, but it also allows us to follow the story of one family – the family who built the houses – through to the end. In the second half of the book, the focus moves away slightly from the plans and layouts and concentrates more on the history of the family. Things become quite convoluted, with complex relationships between the family members, rivalries between different branches and tales of curses and traditions going back several generations. I was reminded of Seishi Yokomizo’s mystery novels and I wonder if these, as well as Yukito Ayatsuji’s Bizarre House series, have influenced Uketsu.

In an interview, translator Jim Rion has talked about how Uketsu wants his writing to be easy to read and accessible to all readers and I think Rion has done a great job of keeping that same clarity in his translations. I’ve also discovered that a third book, Strange Buildings, is coming soon. Something to look forward to!

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

Book 6/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.