Scotland Archives - The Y Logs

Yzabel / December 5, 2019

Review: Hold Your Tongue

Hold Your Tongue by Deborah Masson
My rating: ★★★☆☆

Blurb:

A brutal murder.
A young woman’s body is discovered with horrifying injuries, a recent newspaper cutting pinned to her clothing.
A detective with everything to prove.
This is her only chance to redeem herself.
A serial killer with nothing to lose.
He’s waited years, and his reign of terror has only just begun . . .

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I think this is the very first novel set in Aberdeen that I read, which kind of surprises me, since I assume there are plenty of stories set in that city. Since I’ve never visited it either, I had absolutely no idea what it looks like, so I couldn’t rely on my own knowledge of it. We get a few streets’ names to place the action, but not so many that it becomes confusing, and what the city’s areas stand for (posh districts, less savoury places, and so on) is clear and presented concisely. It had a gritty side, and a sometimes stifling atmosphere that went well with the nature of the crime/murder mystery here. On the other hand, I have no idea if the real Aberdeen feels like this. I was under the impression that the setting here, while fitting, was perhaps more generic than anything else (it would’ve worked just as well in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Birmingham or Manchester).

“Hold Your Tongue” deals with DI Eve Hunter getting back to her job after a couple of harrowing events that left her and Sanders, a colleague, heavily wounded—and not only does she have to immediately investigate a series of gruesome murders, but a lot of people aren’t happy to see her back, including other police officers who hold her responsible for what happened to Sanders. While the novel is not entirely clear about the latter point in the first pages, it’s still obvious how much this is weighing on Eve, and her coming to terms with this (psychologically, emotionally and physically) is just as much part of the plot as the murders themselves.

The story comes with plenty of turns and red herrings. These included focusing on a suspect in spite of a lack of clues; gut feelings; and also chapters narrated from the point of view of the killer, spreading little clues here and there, but still vaguely enough as to not make the killer’s identity too obvious from the start—I got close to guessing who it was, but not too close either, which is good for me. At times, I found the characters perhaps too prone on jumping on certain clues or making certain mistakes because of how their own experiences influenced them (for instance, Eve and Ferguson’s strained relationship clearly doesn’t help them keep a straight head); this was partly understandable, and partly cast a shadow on them, in that it made them look less professional in such moments.

I liked that some of the tension gets resolved in this first volume in the series, but not other things (Eve’s origins and how they may colour her future take on life, or how the killer’s actions will weigh on her team in general). This was a good introduction to Eve and her partners, hinting at more depth—although I regret that one of those relationships just can’t be exploited anymore, or not directly, in the following novels.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. As a first story in a series, it sets the scene and characters well, with a partial resolution only, and therefore more left to explore later on. It was a bit slow in places, though, and could do with just a smidge of plot tightening. I’ll definitely be interested in book 2 no matter what.

Yzabel / May 28, 2019

Review: The Way of All Flesh

The Way of All Flesh by Ambrose Parry
My rating: [usr 2]

Blurb:

Edinburgh, 1847. Will Raven is a medical student, apprenticing for the brilliant and renowned Dr Simpson. Sarah Fisher is Simpson’s housemaid, and has all of Raven’s intelligence but none of his privileges.

As bodies begin to appear across the Old Town, Raven and Sarah find themselves propelled headlong into the darkest shadows of Edinburgh’s underworld. And if either of them are to make it out alive, they will have to work together to find out who’s responsible for the gruesome deaths.

Review:

A novel that was more interesting for its historical research (anaesthetics, medicine and its practitioners) and its location (Edinburgh—yes, I’m biased) than for its actual mystery, to be honest.

So I really liked the setting, revisiting this city with a Victorian twist to boot, and looking for the Easter eggs laid here and there (Edinburgh was pretty famous when it came to medicine, and more than one name in the novel was an actual historical figure). With Will Raven and Dr Simpson being sent to attend several patients across town, including in less savoury areas, there was ample opportunity for some sightseeing along the way, and to get a glimpse of Edinburgh in the mid-19th century.

You can also tell that a lot of research was done when it came to anaesthesia and medicine in that era (one of the authors making up the Ambrose Parry pen name was actually inspired to write this novel by her research for her own thesis, and there is indeed a lot of information deserving to be exploited here). I never had any trouble picturing the various procedures, as gruesome as some were (surgery and amputations, ehhh), and to even read between the lines when a specific procedure erred on the side of euphemism due to its “unspeakable” nature.

The mystery itself, though, was less interesting, in that it unfolded at a slow pace while also being too obvious with its clues—I could sense the culprit coming already in the first half of the book. The characters are somewhat enjoyable, but get too mired down in their own backstories from the onest (Raven has a dark past and is also running away from his creditors, Sarah reflects every day upon her bleak prospects, Mina keeps lamenting about not having found a husband yet…): things that are in keeping with the era, especially regarding the role of women as “Angels of the Home”, but that also contribute to the slow pace until things are properly in place.

There are also quite a few cliché scenes that are worthy of an eye roll, notably the attempts at “romantic” situations—I counted three times when the characters are stuck in a tiny room/dive into an alley to avoid being seen, and are of course pressed against each other, and suddenly feel the need to kiss. Yeah, whatever. I’m no fan of romance in general, and these were very contrived means of pushing it that didn’t work at all.

Conclusion: Good for the historical background, less so for the mystery and characters.

Yzabel / September 28, 2015

Review: The Euthanasia Protocol

The Euthanasia Protocol by Grahame Howard

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In this vision of the future, set after the apocalyptic religious wars, the State is managed by a series of secular Life Protocols.

Drawn up by a young and idealistic civil servant called Giles, the Protocols soon become grossly misinterpreted as an end in themselves, rather than being an aid to government. Society becomes slavishly adherent to these documents, to the extent that they begin to take on pseudo-religious significance. Among the Protocols is one addressing the problem of an aging population, and this Euthanasia Protocol is implemented throughout the country as an income-generating, yet socially acceptable, method of age control.

Giles rapidly becomes disillusioned by the way in which his concept has been abused. However, when he attempts to rectify the situation, he falls foul of the system, being condemned to a life of ignominy. As an old man who is resigned to euthanasia, can he appeal the order in time?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A book whose review was long overdue, and since the copy I got wasn’t the fully edited, final product, there may have been some changes brought to it when it was actually published.

The society depicted in this novel, while definitely a caricature in many ways (including through some of its most outrageous characters, especially Doreese), gives food for thought, in that it deals with the issue of aging populations and the potential means to solving it. There’s no denying that euthanasia could very well become such a means, at some point in the future, and the farcical approach here manages to highlight it fairly well.

“The Euthanasia Protocol” is one of those dystopian stories where the world has gone a nonsensical road, with a government so entrenched within its ways and desires to “make things right” again after religious wars that it fell head first into the very same mistakes it was trying to avoid. The Protocol is revered like a messiah, officials make a point of convincing themselves that euthanasia for “criminals” is not capital punishment, and trials and verdicts are left in the digital hands of computers fed information through a system that just cannot ensure common sense to bear any weight. It is comical, it is a farce, and it has the potential to make people both laugh and shudder—because the execution (pun totally intended) may look ridiculous, but the contents are quite frightening. And it’s not all giggles, since quite a few characters throughout the story are killed in the name of the Protocol, to make an example, to cause other people to bend and break, or simply to fuel a wish for personal revenge.

My main criticism, and one that unfortunately mitigated my enjoyment, was the writing style itself. It may just be me, or it may be because I had an ARC and not a final copy (though in my experience, ARCs are so close to their published version that it’s approximately the same—I mean in style, not typos and the likes). I don’t know. I kept finding it too “dry”, describing the characters’ feelings and thoughts rather than letting me see them in action, so to speak. It made thoughts and dialogues rather stilted, all the more when The Boy was concerned: I’m all for stopping dumbing down teenager characters, but nobody thinks or talks like he (and others) did, even as adults. And I’m not sure it was absolutely necessary to enforce the satirical side and the novel’s messages through a narrative of the “tell, don’t show” kind.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. Enjoyable, but I admit it would’ve worked better for me if the writing had been different.