First sentence: The winter rain slashes at my face like icy razor blades, but I don't care. I dig my chin deep into the collar of my mackintosh, put my head down, and push on against the buffeting of the furious wind.
Premise/plot: Thrice the Brinded Cat Hath Mew'd is the EIGHTH novel in the Flavia de Luce mystery series by Alan Bradley. If you're not hooked to the series by now, chances are my review won't persuade you to pick this one up. Do you have to read the books in order? Yes and no. I'd say that it's always best to read the first book first. But perhaps after that if you've missed one or two then it would still be okay to pick up this newest one and treat yourself.
So, what is it about? Flavia de Luce is home from Canada--it's almost Christmas--and things are not the same at home. Her father is sick and in the hospital. Which means almost everyone is acting differently. And every day there is the question: will the hospital allow visitors today?!?! For too many days in a row the answer has been NO. One thing that is the same? There is a mystery to be solved. While doing an errand for Cynthia, I believe, she comes across a dead body--Mr. Sambridge, a local woodcarver.
My thoughts: The mystery in this one is very interesting in my opinion. While I've enjoyed the past few books in the series okay, I think this one is my favorite by far. It is COMPELLING and EMOTIONAL. And oh the ending....it revealed how much I do CARE about the characters and it made me want to yell at the author.
There are times when even family can be of no use: when talking to your own blood fails to have meaning.
As anybody with two older sisters can tell you, a closed door is like a red rag to a bull. It cannot go unchallenged.
Playing the clown is not an easy task. Clowns, I have come to believe, are placed upon the earth solely to fill the needs of others, while running perilously close to "Empty" themselves.
You can learn from a glance at anyone's library, not what they are, but what they wish to be.
Giving someone the benefit of the doubt is not so simple as it sounds. What it means, in fact, is being charitable--which, as the vicar is fond of pointing out, is the most difficult of the graces to master. Faith and hope are a piece of cake but charity is a Pandora's box: the monster in the cistern which, when the lid is opened, comes swarming out to seize you by the throat.
The world can be an interesting place to a girl who keeps her ears open.
Authors are known to have fiendishly clever minds, and the authors of children's books are more fiendishly clever than most.
Some sleeps are washed with gold, and some with silver. Mine was molten lead.
© 2016 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews