43. The Midnight Train

43. The Midnight Train. Matt Haig. 2026. 296 pages. [Source: Library] [5 stars, adult speculative fiction, adult romance]

First sentence: Wilbur Budd died around midnight, but he had trouble remembering the details.

Premise/plot: The Midnight Train is a premise-driven novel. Think Twilight Zone, Our Town, and A Christmas Carol. Wilbur Budd, the protagonist, dies soon after the novel opens. He's lived a long life, in many ways a successful life. IF you only look at dollars or cents--or the British equivalent. But Wilbur has focused on all the wrong things for perhaps the right reasons, perhaps not the right reasons. But his need to escape the poverty of his childhood--as well as dealing with some childhood trauma, or not dealing with it as the case may be--has left his heart as cold as ice. Maggie loses the man she marries to a cash register essentially.

The night he dies, he boards a train, the "Midnight Train," the train that will take him to the afterlife. He can look out the windows and see every moment of his life flash by. There will be stops along the way. As a ghost, he will look upon significant moments of his life. Some are obviously significant. Some less obviously significant moments. Some are moments that he is overjoyed to relive, to experience with fresh eyes. Others are dark, haunting, traumatic. The train stops and he must go where it takes him.

There are RULES and more rules. But what if there weren't rules. What if Wilbur is a REBEL and a risk taker? What if he is determined to NOT go quietly...

My thoughts: I could not put this one down. It was IMPOSSIBLE for me to go to bed until I finished it. It was reflective and equal parts wonderful and heartbreaking.

I recently read Midnight Library. Nora Seed does make an extremely small appearance as a piano teacher in this one. I LOVED this one more than Midnight Library. I thought the characterization was better. Or maybe the premise was better.

Quotes:

• I don't mean to be pedantic, but the whole point of a life flashing before your eyes is that you see it.
• It was interesting, to realize that even your own past was new territory to explore. That memories were no more the real event than flags were their nations.
• A life of avoiding pain becomes a life defined by pain. Pain and regret.

© 2026 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

42. The Midnight Library

42. The Midnight Library. Matt Haig. 2020. 288 pages. [Source: Library] [adult fiction, adult science fiction, fantasy]

Premise/plot: The Midnight Library is a premise-driven, slow-moving, reflective novel. Nora Seed, our protagonist, hates her life. The book opens with a countdown until an attempt of the self-destructive sort. She's lost her job. She's lost her side job. Her cat has died. Her brother barely speaks with her. Nothing is going right. Nothing has gone right. Perhaps nothing has ever gone right. Her list of regrets is long, so long that it could in fact fill a library.

When Nora finds herself between life and death she enters the Midnight Library. A slightly more pleasant place to be than the Twilight Zone. Nora will have all the opportunities--infinite opportunities--to see how her life would have turned out if she'd made different choices. Big choices. Small choices. All the choices. Infinite parallel lives to step in and out of. But will any feel like home? Will living her other lives make her want to live?

My thoughts: The book was enjoyably thought-provoking in some ways. I liked the premise. I didn't love, love, love it. But I liked the concept. This is similar and dissimilar to It's a Wonderful Life. The book opens in the same rock-bottom place. BUT there are many, many paths to explore and not just the one if she'd never been born. It is not about how her life has impacted others. I mean in a vague way perhaps maybe if you squint and tilt your head. Nora has to learn to live life you just have to keep on keeping on, and don't think too much, don't navel-gaze, don't look for more meaning than there is, don't waste time thinking about the past or the future, just live life in the day. I don't even know if that was the message??? Honestly the messages were messy. And that was a bit of the point as well, perhaps. That life is messy, messy, messy. And it will never be anything but messy. Don't think that you're missing out on the "good life" because your life is a mess and you are a mess????

© 2026 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

126. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

126. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Douglas Adams. Illustrated by Chris Riddell. 1979/2021. 289 pages. [Source: Library] [4 stars, speculative fiction, humor, science fiction, audio book]

First sentence: The house stood on a slight rise just on the edge of the village. It stood on its own and looked out over a broad spread of West Country farmland. Not a remarkable house by any means – it was about thirty years old, squattish, squarish, made of brick, and had four windows set in the front of a size and proportion which more or less exactly failed to please the eye. The only person for whom the house was in any way special was Arthur Dent, and that was only because it happened to be the one he lived in. He had lived in it for about three years, ever since he had moved out of London because it made him nervous and irritable. He was about thirty as well, tall, dark haired and never quite at ease with himself. The thing that used to worry him most was the fact that people always used to ask him what he was looking so worried about. He worked in local radio, which he always used to tell his friends was a lot more interesting than they probably thought. It was, too – most of his friends worked in advertising.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is all about the journey and NOT the destination. Arthur Dent, one of our heroes, is one of two survivors of Earth's destruction--the other being a stranded alien named Ford Prefect. Earth was 'set' to be demolished on the same day that Arthur Dent's house was set to be demolished... many adventures or misadventures follow once these two hitch a ride on a spaceship (or two). 

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy follows a dream logic of sorts. The less you think about it, the more you go with the flow, you can almost relax into the story and it works. It's silly and outrageous, but, you're content to go along for the laughs. It helps that it is quite quotable in places. But like a dream, the ending is abrupt. You can't help wanting to close your eyes and try to get back into the dream to see if you can wrap things up. 

The ending was my least favorite part. The humor was my most favorite part.

Quotes:

I like the cover,’ he said. ‘Don’t Panic. It’s the first helpful or intelligible thing anybody’s said to me all day.’

‘I’ll show you how it works,’ said Ford. He snatched it from Arthur who was still holding it as if it was a two-week-dead lark and pulled it out of its cover.

‘You press this button here, you see, and the screen lights up giving you the index.’

A screen, about three inches by four, lit up and characters began to flicker across the surface.

‘You want to know about Vogons, so I enter that name so.’ His fingers tapped some more keys. ‘And there we are.’

The words Vogon Constructor Fleets flared in green across the screen.

Ford pressed a large red button at the bottom of the screen and words began to undulate across it. At the same time, the book began to speak the entry as well in a still quiet measured voice. This is what the book said.

‘Vogon Constructor Fleets. Here is what to do if you want to get a lift from a Vogon: forget it. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxy – not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous. They wouldn’t even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters. The best way to get a drink out of a Vogon is to stick your finger down his throat, and the best way to irritate him is to feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.

‘On no account allow a Vogon to read poetry at you.’

Arthur blinked at it.

‘What a strange book. How did we get a lift, then?’

‘That’s the point, it’s out of date now,’ said Ford, sliding the book back into its cover. ‘I’m doing the field research for the new revised edition, and one of the things I’ll have to do is include a bit about how the Vogons now employ Dentrassi cooks, which gives us a rather useful little loophole.’

A pained expression crossed Arthur’s face. ‘But who are the Dentrassi?’ he said. ‘Great guys,’ said Ford. ‘They’re the best cooks and the best drinks mixers and they don’t give a wet slap about anything else. And they’ll always help hitchhikers aboard, partly because they like the company, but mostly because it annoys the Vogons.

Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem ‘Ode To A Small Lump of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning’ four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been ‘disappointed’ by the poem’s reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.

The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England in the destruction of the planet Earth.

All right,’ said Ford, ‘just stop panicking!’

‘Who said anything about panicking?’ snapped Arthur. ‘This is still just the culture shock. You wait till I’ve settled down into the situation and found my bearings. Then I’ll start panicking!’

‘Arthur, you’re getting hysterical. Shut up!’ Ford tried desperately to think, but was interrupted by the guard shouting again. ‘Resistance is useless!’

All right,’ said Deep Thought. ‘The Answer to the Great Question…’

‘Yes…!’

‘Of Life, the Universe and Everything…’ said Deep Thought.

‘Yes…!’

‘Is…’ said Deep Thought, and paused.

‘Yes…!’

‘Is…’

‘Yes …!!! …?’

‘Forty-two,’ said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.

© 2025 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

93. Station Eleven

93.  Station Eleven. Emily St. John Mandel. 2014. Knopf Doubleday. 352 pages. [Source: Library] [5 stars, speculative fiction, adult science fiction, apocalyptic]

First sentence: The King stood in a pool of blue light, unmoored. This was act 4 of King Lear, a winter night at the Elgin Theatre in Toronto. 

Premise/plot: There isn't 'one' central character in Station Eleven. It is a premise-driven novel. The premise: what if there was a pandemic that killed 99% of the earth's population. How would that surviving 1% live in the following days, weeks, months, years, decades following the collapse of life as we knew it. The book primarily focuses on two clusters of the population: a traveling troupe of actors and musicians known as "The Traveling Symphony" and a more sedentary bunch the "Museum of Civilization" located at Severn City Airport. Central characters are Kirsten Raymonde, Clark Thompson, Miranda Carroll, Elizabeth Colton, Arthur Leander, and the Prophet. 

The novel opens and closes with Arthur Leander on stage. At least, I'm 98% sure that is how the novel closes. (It has been a day since I finished it.) "Dr. Eleven" is a graphic novel in two volumes that is rare, limited editions printed by the author, Miranda Carroll, to give to a select few. Kirsten, a child actor who is in Arthur Leander's play, receives copies of these two right before the collapse of civilization. Arthur's son receives another set. Kirsten does in some ways become fixated on the story and characters within the graphic novels.

All characters can be traced indirectly back to Arthur's life, though for some, the connection is extremely brief. (For example, a few vignettes of Jeevan Chaudhary who conveniently has many jobs: a paparazzi, a journalist, a paramedic, a 'doctor' post-collapse. He takes pictures for gossip magazines of Alexander and his wives; he later interviews Arthur for a magazine; he later attempts to save Arthur on stage while he's having a heart attack.) Two of the characters are his ex-wives. Another, Kirsten, is his co-star (though the role is small). He comes to almost be a symbol for LIFE BEFORE because celebrity really doesn't make the transition in this new world. Kirsten is obsessed with finding newspaper and magazine clippings about Arthur. Clark, another important character, is a 'friend' of sorts to Arthur who does survive and almost thrive in the new world. [In the book, he is not in any way villainous.]

My thoughts: I first read Station Eleven in January 2015. I recently watched the ten part mini-series from 2021/2022. The book and adaptation are SO DIFFERENT. There are things I absolutely LOVE about the book that were changed significantly by the adaption. There are things in the adaptation that I absolutely LOVE. The mini-series made main characters out of characters that were mentioned in passing a couple of times. This is particularly true of the Traveling Symphony. There were a few people in the book that were fleshed out significantly and made important. There were characters that were portrayed as being Kirsten's absolute best friends in the Traveling Symphony in the book that did not make it into the adaptation. Jeevan and Kirsten maybe spend five or six minutes together in the book. Maybe. In the movie, their connection spans at least a year, and, is one of the most emotional connections in the whole adaptation. In the book, as I mentioned, he's almost a footnote character. In the adaptation, he's IMPORTANT. However, the greatest change might be what they did with Clark Thompson.

The book is beautifully written. I liked the world-building. I especially liked Miranda's creation of the graphic novels Station Eleven. I liked what little description we get of Dr. Eleven and his situation. I wouldn't have minded more. It actually would be a graphic novel that I'd want to read if it existed. I liked what the two graphic novels meant to Kirsten.

I would definitely recommend this one.

© 2025 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

87. Lost in Time

87. Lost in Time. A.G. Riddle. 2022. 455 pages. [Source: Library] [5 stars, adult science fiction, adult speculative fiction, alternate universes, time travel]

First sentence: On the anniversary of his wife’s death, Sam Anderson visited her grave. It was a crisp spring morning in Nevada, with dew on the grass and fog rolling through the cemetery. In one hand, Sam carried a bouquet of flowers. In the other, he gripped his son’s hand. Ryan was eleven years old and strong-willed and introverted, like his mother. After her death, he had withdrawn, spending even more time alone, playing with LEGOs, reading, and generally avoiding life.

Premise/plot: Sam and Adeline Anderson find themselves in quite the mess. This father and daughter are suspects in a murder investigation. There is video evidence that they were the last [last to be seen, at least] to enter the victim's home. Nora and Sam were in a relationship together. Now Sam may just be exiled...forever...to save his daughter from being implicated as well.

Exiled means EXILED in Lost in Time. Criminals/prisoners are sent to the FAR, FAR, FAR, DISTANT past in an alternate universe. Convicts won't get the chance to appeal, they'll be alive as long as they can survive the elements: dinosaurs, earthquakes, volcanoes, meteors, etc. 

What makes it worse for this father of two, is that he is one of SIX scientists who invented the Absolom time machine. It was meant to be a quick new way to "ship" stuff. They didn't know it was a time machine, but not a time machine to their own past, but a multi-verse time machine. 

Adeline will do just about anything to save her father [after the fact] even if it means working/living with the enemy.

My thoughts: I loved, loved, loved, loved, crazy-loved this one. I wish I could find more science fiction like this one. For #lawnerds who also love sci-fi, especially time travel, this one is a dream read. 

I enjoyed the complexity of this one. I loved the world-building and puzzle-building. All the pieces, all the clues, are there to be found. But it takes a while for everything to come together. (I was not expecting it to play out quite like it did.)

I really loved the characterization in this one. In particular, Adeline's character. She is our main narrator....

© 2025 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

76. LOTR: Two Towers

   

 

76. The Two Towers. (Lord of the Rings) J.R.R. Tolkien. 1954/1965. Houghton Mifflin. 352 pages. [Source: Library] [5 stars, audio book, adult fantasy, adult classic]

First sentence: Aragorn sped on up the hill. Every now and again he bent to the ground. Hobbits go light, and their footprints are not easy even for a Ranger to read, but not far from the top a spring crossed the path, and in the wet earth he saw what he was seeking.

I am still enjoying my reread of Lord of the Rings. The Two Towers consists of books three and four. On this reread, I am listening to the audio book. It is narrated by Andy Serkis. The biggest difference, for me, is that I've switched up how I feel about books three and four. ON audio, I much preferred book four to book three. In print, I think I love both books, but love the third one perhaps a bit more. No matter print or audio, I ADORE SAM.

 
The fellowship has been broken, and, as a result the narrative has been completely split. The fourth book follows the adventures of Sam and Frodo (and Gollum).  The third book follows the adventures of everyone else: Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, etc.

The book opens with some drama: Merry and Pippin have been taken! Boromir has fallen valiantly in battle trying to protect them. He confesses all to Aragorn moments before he dies. (But the movie does it even better. That death scene in the extended edition is SOMETHING.)

Aragorn knelt beside him. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. ‘I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,’ he said. ‘I am sorry. I have paid.’ His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there. ‘They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them.’ He paused and his eyes closed wearily. After a moment he spoke again. ‘Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed.’ ‘No!’ said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. ‘You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!’ Boromir smiled. ‘Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?’ said Aragorn. But Boromir did not speak again.

The company also learns that Sam and Frodo have left, have "broken" the fellowship. The mission has changed without a doubt, but the remaining members still have purpose.

‘The rumour of the earth is dim and confused,’ he said. ‘Nothing walks upon it for many miles about us. Faint and far are the feet of our enemies. But loud are the hoofs of the horses. It comes to my mind that I heard them, even as I lay on the ground in sleep, and they troubled my dreams: horses galloping, passing in the West. But now they are drawing ever further from us, riding northward. I wonder what is happening in this land!’ ‘Let us go!’ said Legolas. 

They decide to pursue the orcs and attempt a rescue of the hobbits. In their quest to save Merry and Pippin, they meet an old friend in a surprising place!

In addition to meeting an old friend, readers also meet some new characters: Treebeard, Éomer, Théoden, and Éowyn. Merry and Pippin encounter the Ents! Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, (and Gandalf) go to Rohan. I absolutely LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this third book.

The fourth book concerns Frodo, Sam, Gollum. Readers meet Boromir's brother as well. It's good, very good. But I can't help thinking that it is largely redeemed by SAM.

Favorite quotes:

Gimli ground his teeth. ‘This is a bitter end to our hope and to all our toil!’ he said. ‘To hope, maybe, but not to toil,’ said Aragorn.  

‘Awake! Awake!’ he cried. ‘It is a red dawn. Strange things await us by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know; but we are called. Awake!’

‘You may say this to Théoden son of Thengel: open war lies before him, with Sauron or against him. None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own.

The world is all grown strange. Elf and Dwarf in company walk in our daily fields; and folk speak with the Lady of the Wood and yet live; and the Sword comes back to war that was broken in the long ages ere the fathers of our fathers rode into the Mark! How shall a man judge what to do in such times?’ ‘As he ever has judged,’ said Aragorn. ‘Good and ill have not changed since yesteryear; nor are they one thing among Elves and Dwarves and another among Men. It is a man’s part to discern them, as much in the Golden Wood as in his own house.’ ‘True indeed,’ said Éomer. ‘But I do not doubt you, nor the deed which my heart would do. Yet I am not free to do all as I would. It is against our law to let strangers wander at will in our land, until the king himself shall give them leave, and more strict is the command in these days of peril.

There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark.

There are Ents and Ents, you know; or there are Ents and things that look like Ents but ain’t, as you might say. I’ll call you Merry and Pippin, if you please – nice names. For I am not going to tell you my name, not yet at any rate.’ A queer half-knowing, half-humorous look came with a green flicker into his eyes. ‘For one thing it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to in my language, in the Old Entish as you might say. It is a lovely language, but it takes a very long time to say anything in it, because we do not say anything in it, unless it is worth taking a long time to say, and to listen to.

‘Of course, it is likely enough, my friends,’ he said slowly, ‘likely enough that we are going to our doom: the last march of the Ents. But if we stayed at home and did nothing, doom would find us anyway, sooner or later. That thought has long been growing in our hearts; and that is why we are marching now. 

‘My name!’ said the old man again. ‘Have you not guessed it already? You have heard it before, I think. Yes, you have heard it before. But come now, what of your tale?’ The three companions stood silent and made no answer. ‘There are some who would begin to doubt whether your errand is fit to tell,’ said the old man. ‘Happily I know something of it. You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits, I believe. Yes, hobbits. Don’t stare, as if you had never heard the strange name before. You have, and so have I. Well, they climbed up here the day before yesterday; and they met someone that they did not expect. Does that comfort you? And now you would like to know where they were taken? Well, well, maybe I can give you some news about that. But why are we standing? Your errand, you see, is no longer as urgent as you thought. Let us sit down and be more at ease.’  

They all gazed at him. His hair was white as snow in the sunshine; and gleaming white was his robe; the eyes under his deep brows were bright, piercing as the rays of the sun; power was in his hand. Between wonder, joy, and fear they stood and found no words to say. At last Aragorn stirred. ‘Gandalf!’ he said. ‘Beyond all hope you return to us in our need! What veil was over my sight? Gandalf!’ Gimli said nothing, but sank to his knees, shading his eyes. 

Hope is not victory. War is upon us and all our friends, a war in which only the use of the Ring could give us surety of victory. It fills me with great sorrow and great fear: for much shall be destroyed and all may be lost. I am Gandalf, Gandalf the White, but Black is mightier still.’ 

Go where you must go, and hope! 

A king will have his way in his own hall, be it folly or wisdom.

Men need many words before deeds. 

 ‘Yet dawn is ever the hope of men,’ said Aragorn.

That must be my hope,’ said Legolas. ‘But I wish that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine.’ ‘If he wins back to the caves, he will pass your count again,’ laughed Aragorn. ‘Never did I see an axe so wielded.’ ‘I must go and seek some arrows,’ said Legolas. ‘Would that this night would end, and I could have better light for shooting.’ 

‘We will have peace,’ said Théoden at last thickly and with an effort. Several of the Riders cried out gladly. Théoden held up his hand. ‘Yes, we will have peace,’ he said, now in a clear voice, ‘we will have peace, when you and all your works have perished – and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. You are a liar, Saruman, and a corrupter of men’s hearts. You hold out your hand to me, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold! Even if your war on me was just – as it was not, for were you ten times as wise you would have no right to rule me and mine for your own profit as you desired – even so, what will you say of your torches in Westfold and the children that lie dead there? And they hewed Háma’s body before the gates of the Hornburg, after he was dead. When you hang from a gibbet at your window for the sport of your own crows, I will have peace with you and Orthanc. So much for the House of Eorl. A lesser son of great sires am I, but I do not need to lick your fingers. Turn elsewhither. But I fear your voice has lost its charm.’ 

Now, Pippin my lad, don’t forget Gildor’s saying – the one Sam used to quote: Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.’

‘Don’t hurt us! Don’t let them hurt us, precious! They won’t hurt us will they, nice little hobbitses? We didn’t mean no harm, but they jumps on us like cats on poor mices, they did, precious. And we’re so lonely, gollum. We’ll be nice to them, very nice, if they’ll be nice to us, won’t we, yes, yess.’

We only wish to catch a fish, so juicy-sweet! 

‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum. ‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it tasty?’

‘I am commanded to go to the land of Mordor, and therefore I shall go,’ said Frodo. ‘If there is only one way, then I must take it. What comes after must come.’

Sam said nothing. The look on Frodo’s face was enough for him; he knew that words of his were useless. And after all he never had any real hope in the affair from the beginning; but being a cheerful hobbit he had not needed hope, as long as despair could be postponed. Now they were come to the bitter end. But he had stuck to his master all the way; that was what he had chiefly come for, and he would still stick to him. His master would not go to Mordor alone. Sam would go with him – and at any rate they would get rid of Gollum. 

All hobbits, of course, can cook, for they begin to learn the art before their letters (which many never reach); but Sam was a good cook, even by hobbit reckoning, and he had done a good deal of the camp-cooking on their travels, when there was a chance. He still hopefully carried some of his gear in his pack: a small tinder-box, two small shallow pans, the smaller fitting into the larger; inside them a wooden spoon, a short two-pronged fork and some skewers were stowed; and hidden at the bottom of the pack in a flat wooden box a dwindling treasure, some salt. But he needed a fire, and other things besides. He thought for a bit, while he took out his knife, cleaned and whetted it, and began to dress the rabbits. He was not going to leave Frodo alone asleep even for a few minutes. 

Sam drew a deep breath. ‘An Oliphaunt it was!’ he said. ‘So there are Oliphaunts, and I have seen one. What a life! But no one at home will ever believe me. Well, if that’s over, I’ll have a bit of sleep.’

‘I don’t like anything here at all,’ said Frodo, ‘step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid.’ ‘Yes, that’s so,’ said Sam. ‘And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?’ ‘I wonder,’ said Frodo. ‘But I don’t know. And that’s the way of a real tale. Take any one that you’re fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don’t know. And you don’t want them to.’

Still, I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales. We’re in one, of course; but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards. And people will say: “Let’s hear about Frodo and the Ring!” And they’ll say: “Yes, that’s one of my favourite stories. Frodo was very brave, wasn’t he, dad?” “Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits, and that’s saying a lot.”’ ‘It’s saying a lot too much,’ said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. ‘Why, Sam,’ he said, ‘to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you’ve left out one of the chief characters: Samwise the stouthearted. “I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn’t they put in more of his talk, dad? That’s what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn’t have got far without Sam, would he, dad?”’ ‘Now, Mr. Frodo,’ said Sam, ‘you shouldn’t make fun. I was serious.’ ‘So was I,’ said Frodo, ‘and so I am. We’re going on a bit too fast. You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: “Shut the book now, dad; we don’t want to read any more.”’

 

© 2025 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

26. To Say Nothing of the Dog

  

26. To Say Nothing of the Dog. (Oxford Time Travel #2) Connie Willis. 1998. 512 pages. [Source: Bought]

First sentence: There were five of us--Carruthers and the new recruit and myself, and Mr. Spivens and the verger. It was late afternoon on November the fifteenth, and we were in what was left of Coventry Cathedral, looking for the bishop's bird stump. Or at any rate I was. 

Premise/plot: Ned Henry narrates the novel. And he does a great job. When we first meet him, he's suffering from time-lag. He's spent too much time--of late--jumping through time. He's not alone. There is someone doing her very, very best to drive EVERYONE in his department crazy. Lady Schrapnell is a woman on a mission--a RICH woman on a mission. And she won't take no for an answer. If Lady Schrapnell volunteers you for a job, well, you stay volunteered until the job is done to her satisfaction. And what does Lady Schrapnell want most of all? The bishop's bird stump. Her project is the rebuilding of Coventry Cathedral--a cathedral destroyed/damaged during World War II. And she HAS to know if the bishop's bird stump was still in the church during the raid. She needs to know if it should be replicated as part of the 'restoration.' So Ned Henry is just one of dozens looking IN THE PAST for the answers as to what happened to the bishop's bird stump.

But that 'mission' becomes almost secondary....when it is 'discovered' that there's been an incongruity. At first they think it's simple, it's easily fixed. One of the time travelers interfered when she shouldn't. But. They'll just send another time traveler to fix that interference, and things should go smoothly. But since the time traveler they send is Ned Henry, since he's suffering from exhaustion and time-lag, since he barely heard his instructions, since he jumped into the Net to avoid being discovered by an angry Lady Schrapnell, nothing is simple. What Ned Henry soon realizes is that his arrival in June 1888 has changed things. His arrival has kept two people from meeting (and subsequently falling in love and marrying), and that's just the start.

But he isn't the only one in the past. He isn't the only time-traveler working to restore things. Verity Kindle. The beautiful Verity Kindle has a role to play as well....

Verity Kindle is the heroine of To Say Nothing of the Dog. She is on a mission of her own. While Ned Henry was given the assignment of finding out the whereabouts of the bishop's bird stump, Verity's assignment is to read Tocelyn's diary. The diary is available to read in the future. But the most relevant pages to the Coventry Cathedral project were damaged. So she's been sent to the oh-so-important summer of 1888 to read the newly written diary entries. She's having about as much success as Ned Henry. In other words, not much luck at all! These two work together as best they can. Verity manages to travel back and forth a few times to the future. Their mission--as they see it has changed a bit. They worry that they've damaged the future and that something horrible may happen as a result. Like Tocelyn, they know, was supposed to marry a "Mr. C". They know this for a fact from future diary entries. Yet here they are and she's engaged to someone else! Their "new mission" is to find the identity of "Mr. C." and make sure they meet when they're supposed to meet....

My thoughts: Read this book. That's all I have to say about that. No, not really. I have plenty to say about this one. But I don't think my review will be able to do this one justice. What is To Say Nothing of the Dog? It's a funny sci-fi mystery with a smidgen of romance.

I have a weakness for time travel. I do. And this one is a great example of a time-traveling sci-fi novel that just works really well. It's smart. It's funny. 

I loved this one. I have always loved this one. It is a delightful time travel novel. I love the humor! I do! It's so very, very funny! And I love the details and the dialogue. This one is just a joy cover to cover!

Quotes:

2 Quotes About the bishop's bird stump:

"Perhaps it was removed for safekeeping," he said, looking at the windows. "Like the east windows."
"The bishop's bird stump?" I said incredulously. "Are you joking?"
"You're right," he said. "It isn't the sort of thing you'd want to keep from being blown up. Victorian art!" He shuddered. (7)

I must be getting light-headed from lack of sleep. No one, even badly shell-shocked, would steal it. Or buy it at a jumble sale. This was the bishop's bird stump. Even the munitions scrap iron drive would turn it down. Unless of course someone recognized its potential as a psychological weapon against the Nazis. (12)

About time-lag:

One of the first symptoms of time-lag is a tendency to maudlin sentimentality, like an Irishman in his cups or a Victorian poet cold-sober. (9)

And isn't this the truth:

There is nothing more helpful than shouted instructions, particularly incomprehensible ones. (153)

Verity Kindle on mystery novels:

"Of course they're usually about murder, not robbery, but they always take place in a country house like this, and the butler did it, at least for the first hundred mystery novels or so. Everyone's a suspect, and it's always the least likely person, and after the first hundred or so, the butler wasn't anymore--the least likely person, I mean--so they had to switch to unlikely criminals. You know, the harmless old lady or the vicar's devoted wife, that sort of thing, but it didn't take the reader long to catch on to that, and they had to resort to having the detective be the murderer, and the narrator, even though that had already been done in The Moonstone. The hero did it, only he didn't know it. He was sleepwalking, in his nightshirt, which was rather racy stuff for Victorian times, and the crime was always unbelievably complicated. In mystery novels. I mean, nobody ever ever just grabs the vase and runs, or shoots somebody in a fit of temper, and at the very end, when you think you've got it all figured out, there's one last plot-twist, and the crime's always very carefully thought out, with disguises and alibis and railway timetables and they have to include a diagram of the house in the frontispiece, showing everyone's bedroom and the library, which is where the body always is, and all the connecting doors, and even then you don't have a prayer of figuring it out, which is why they have to bring in a world-famous detective--"
"Who solves it with little gray cells?" I said.
"Yes. Hercule Poirot, that's Agatha Christie's detective, and he says it isn't at all necessary to go running about measuring footprints and picking up cigarette ends to solve mysteries like Sherlock Holmes. That's Arthur Conan Doyle's detective--"
"I know who Sherlock Holmes is." (205)

Well, it wasn't exactly the ending of an Agatha Christie mystery, with Hercule Poirot gathering everyone together in the drawing room to reveal the murderer and impress everyone with his astonishing deductive powers. And it definitely wasn't a Dorothy Sayers, with the detective hero saying to his heroine sidekick, "I say, we make a jolly good detectin' team. How about makin' the partnership permanent, eh, what?" and then proposing in Latin. (431)

Verity and Ned:

She peered at me. "It isn't fair, you know."
"What isn't?" I said warily.
"Your boater. It makes you look just like Lord Peter Wimsey, especially when you tilt it forward like that." (254)

"The first time I ever saw you, I thought, he looks just like Lord Peter Wimsey. You were wearing the boater and--no, that wasn't the first time," she said accusingly. "The first time was in Mr. Dunworthy's office, and you were all covered in soot. You were still adorable, though, even if your mouth was hanging open." (254)

"Lord Peter took a nap," she said. "Harriet watched him sleep, and that's when she knew she was in love with him."
She sat up again. "Of course, I knew it from the second page of Strong Poison, but it took two more books for Harriet to figure it out. She kept telling herself it was all just detecting and deciphering codes and solving mysteries together, but I knew she was in love with him. He proposed in Latin. Under a bridge. After they solved the mystery. You can't propose till after you've solved the mystery. That's a law in detective novels."
She sighed. "It's too bad. 'Placetne, magistra?' he said when he proposed, and then she said, 'Placet.' That's a fancy Oxford don way of saying yes. I had to look it up. I hate it when people use Latin and don't tell you what they mean..." (259)

 

 

 

 

© 2025 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

150. Queen Wallis

Queen Wallis. C.J. Carey. 2023. [July] 416 pages. [Source: Library] [adult fiction; alternative history; 1950s; speculative fiction]

First sentence: If pelicans cared about views, then the pelicans of St. James's Park would appreciate that the view from their home on the lake was the most historic in England.

Premise/plot: Queen Wallis is the sequel to Widowland. But is it the thrilling sequel to Widowland? (See my thoughts below). Both books imagine an intriguing what-if. What if Britain had formed an alliance with Nazi Germany instead of fighting in World War II. What would Britain have looked like in the 1950s. Obviously, one can tell from the title, that there would be a Queen Wallis--instead of Queen Elizabeth. 

Rose Ransom, our protagonist, spends her days rewriting literature and 'sanitizing' it for the present day. She removes anything offensive to the powers that be. No exceptions. Play it safe on what is "offensive." But Rose has a big secret--a secret that apparently she has forgotten completely. A secret that readers of the first novel may be aware of. But does someone know her secret? Is she a target?

MY thoughts: I do not think this is a thrilling sequel. The first novel was definitely premise-driven. It had plenty of action on top of an intriguing premise. So much of this one is Rose being clueless. There doesn't seem to be much of a plot. Definitely a LOT more dialogue this time around. (Or perhaps I'm misremembering the first book?) But it was hard to care about any of the characters. Not even Rose since Rose seems to sometimes forget who she is and what she stands for.

 

© 2023 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews