The Case of the Reincarnated Client

 Hardboiled mysteries focus on the dark side. What non-mystery readers don't appreciate is that even lightweight mysteries and procedurals have dark threads. After all, they're focused on a crime, often murder. My favorite Christie, Sparkling Cyanide doesn't just include multiple murders but the whole plot would not exist if not for women barely out of their teens marrying rich men over 30. Tarquin Hall's Vish Puri novels are generally on the lighter side but the Delhi-based detective has dealt with serious issues before. The main plot The Case of the Reincarnated Client is by far his darkest.

Puri reluctantly gives in to Mummy-ji's nagging and takes on the case of a woman who claims to be the reincarnation of one of the victims of the 1984 anti-Sikh riots. This sends Puri back into that violent time and explores mattes of prejudice, police corruption, abandoned widows, and domestic abuse. It's a case where we see that solving the crime will have a minimal effect at best on those who were harmed.

The subplots, fortunately, lighten up the novel. There's Puri's other case - he'd done a background check on a prospective groom who turns out to be a prodigious snorer, so loud his new wife can't sleep with him - and the administrative chaos brought about by the November, 2016 demonetization. And there's the destruction of Puri's beloved Ambassador and the desire of everyone around him - his driver Handbrake, his wife Rumpi, and Mummy-Ji - for him to finally replace the not-as-reliable-as-he-claims, past-its-prime sedan with something that has power steering and heated seats. A thread which resolves on the last page, along with Puri's reluctance to accept that his younger daughter wants to make a love match.

Elizabeth of York

 I didn't realize how long it had been since I'd read one of Alison Weir's biographies. While I've read a few since starting this blog, that coincided with her move to historical fiction which I've devoured. As with her biographies of Mary Boleyn and Katherine Swynford, Weir has to work around the relative lack of sources directly related to Henry VII's Queen. Women didn't appear in most historical records and it was Elizabeth's daughters-in-law and granddaughters who were literate and in most cases highly educated so we don't have Elizabeth's letters or diaries.

Elizabeth was the oldest of the Duke of York's ten children, one of seven sisters who could expect to be married off to secure alliances. Instead, she spent several years in sanctuary while her father and uncles fought what was later named the Wars of the Roses, eventually seeing her uncle Richard usurp the throne and most likely order the murder of her two brothers. Growing up under those circumstances, it makes sense that Elizabeth would be politically savvy, and Weir presents evidence that marriages to both a pre-invasion Henry Tudor and to a post-usurpation Richard III were considered. The alleged alliance with her uncle could be why Elizabeth's marriage to Henry was delayed - he wanted to make sure that the woman he was marrying to legitimize his claim to the throne was not allied to his vanquished opponent.

Beyond the political intrigue in which she appeared to play a role by not committing until it was necessary, Elizabeth's life was ordinary for a woman of her status. She supported charities, was known to be devout, and delivered seven children, four of whom survived to adulthood and one of whom became Henry VIII, before dying in childbirth at age 39, most likely attempting to produce another "spare." As with many of Weir's biographies, I found Elizabeth of York an interesting view into the life of the Tudor court.

The End of White Christian America

The End of White Christian America feels like a policy paper, which isn't surprising since its written by a think tank leader.  It's a good primer on the rise of fundamentalism as general protestantism declined and backs everything up with graphs and charts. It was interesting, but there's really not much to say about it.

Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight

 There's not much to say about Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight. Stephanie Plum was never deep and Janet Evanovich has been churning out amusing but surface mysteries for the past decade plus. This time, Steph is joined by Diesel, the semi-supernatural hunter who (literally) popped into the holiday themed between-the-numbers books. They're both hunting for a hacker named Oswald Wednesday who, in turn, is killing off the Baked Potatoes, a local (mostly white-hat) hacker group. Take a scene of Grandma Mazur at a funeral. Add in Lula having hairdresser problems after encountering a bat, an appearance by Uncle Sandor's baby-blue Buick, Baked Potatoes in protective custody at Rangeman, and Stephanie's mother discoverer the zen of knitting. Tie the threads together with an action rescue, and you've got a middling Plum. Entertaining enough to make me eager for the next installment but not particularly memorable.