I am sadly disappointed in the The Hanging Tree. To begin with, it teems with class resentment–oh those greedy rich twits!–and also a certain amount of racial animosity: whites=bad, blacks=good. Which wouldn’t matter if the sprightly wit and humor of the earlier books were in evidence, but they are pretty thin on the ground, alas. Still, it’s a story, and I’m still listening to it. Though I will own that I don’t look forward to putting in the ear buds with any lively anticipation of pleasure–so unlike some books, where I can’t WAIT to get back to them, inventing dull tasks (eg scrubbing pots) that NEED a story accompaniment.
Anyway, perhaps our Ben can’t help sounding cantankerous on the economic front–his dad was a senior member of the UK Communist party and no doubt the son honors his dad. As he should.
I loved PARTS of it, mind–he has a fertile inventive mind, and an entertaining wit (about a place they’re examining: “The designer had probably been going for Turkish Bath but had hit Czech Porn Shoot instead.”) But his non-stop anti-upper class pronouncements begin to pall, and what’s more–I kept losing track of what was happening. This is a COMPLICATED story. A lot of blowing things up using magic, some horrible deaths–and Peter Grant being cocksure all the time. Of course, there is the Folly, and Peter’s gracious boss, Nightingale. So, it’s fun enough to keep going. And the police procedural stuff is entertaining enough–the magical element being officially folded in, with appropriately dreary police language. That made me smile!
And of course, there are more books after this one–including, I just discovered, False Value, in which our Peter FACES FATHERHOOD! Which might be interesting actually…
Book Club 