Keyes' Brightest?

Marian Keyes has been one of my favorite authors since one of her early books, Last Chance Saloon, caught my attention over a decade ago. Its plot consists of Tara, Fintan and Katherine, friends since the days of "legwarmers, pink stretch jeans and Duran Duran." Sure, it, like most of Keyes' novels, had it's serious moments, like dead-end relationships, broken hearts, characters' negative self esteem in regards to their bodies, drug addiction, and later on physical abuse, and tragic death, but it also had lots of laugh out loud funny scenes, witty and a bit over the top, that tended to overshadow the 'tragedy' of everyday life.

In her latest release, The Brightest Star in the Sky, Keyes' introduces an unseen, unnamed, 'magical' character who is able to infiltrate the daily lives of the numerous residents of 66 Star Street, Dublin, a la her fellow Irish author, Cecelia Ahern. Almost a dozen main characters and even more secondary ones flit through the narrative. My personal favorite, although I am reluctant to admit it, is the tiny but tough (okay, bitchy) Lydia, who mysteriously moves from a comfortable flat with her best friend into a cramped apartment with two Polish male students who cringe in fear from her. There is also Katie, a 40 year old 'babysitter' to artistes, who is on the rebound from her workaholic boyfriend Conall with the young and sexy Fionn; Matt and Maeve, a young couple whose early married life was horrifically marred seemingly beyond repair, and Jemima, Fionn's foster mother, a holder of great wisdom surrounded by despair and confusion, round out the residents.

While I did enjoy The Brightest Star in the Sky, and how the characters' lives would intertwine, I did however find that there was a bit too much going on, a few too many characters, to have this book replace Keyes' others as my favorites. And the magical element didn't quite do it for me. Now, to qualify my statement, I'm not saying this is a bad book: Keyes' style has grown to be more than light-hearted 'chick-lit,' her characters more developed, her situations less wacky. It is, in my opinion a good book, but lacks the levity of her previous writings. If you are considering embarking on a relationship with Keyes, I strongly recommend her earlier titles if you're looking for laughs, then grow with her into her later fiction.

Knowledge is but a clicker box away

Ah, winter. Darkness, warm clothes and cuddly blanket, hot chocolate. All things that make me feel cozy, and physically lazy (especially after a few hours of cross country skiing or walks in the snow). Ironically, it is the time I feel most intellectually stimulated, and I seek out non-fiction as much as 'deep' fiction.

However, when life deems that reading time is allotted but in small chunks, non-fiction, full of dates, facts and figures, is not the optimum choice. What's a reader to do?

Turn on the TV!

I don't do it often, but now and then I rise early in the morning, taking my cuddly paraphernalia in the basement where my TV is, and indulge in some great documentaries. I just finished discs 1-4 of the BBC's The Private Life of a Masterpiece. They contain thirteen 'biographies' of some of history's most celebrated works of art. Starting with magnificent La Primavera by Sandro Botticelli, the series examines works from Italian Renaissance, Dutch and Spanish Baroque, and early Romanticism, a classic Japanese print, and ending with the birth of modern art.

Despite having studied art history pretty much all my adult life, I have yet to see most of these works, so it adds some dimension to seeing the works' settings, rather than just the image head on. There is a greater impact seeing Leonardo's Last Supper as it is meant to be, as part of a monastery's refectory, and imagine the impact of sitting and dining under this powerful painting! Also, some of the musings from the interviewees makes me stop and realise "hey, I never thought about it that way." My particular favorite episodes thus far are Edvard Munch's The Scream and James McNeill Whistler's Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1 - Portrait of the Artist's Mother, oddly enough, since I've never been much of a modernist. Perhaps now I'm ready to learn about that which used to turn me off.

Ah, the power of television.

A parent's worst nightmare: Part 2

John Hart's suspense novel, The Last Child, is a book for which readers need to be prepared: not by brushing up on historic events, not by reading prequels, but to psychologically be immersed in a dirty, squalid, evil world of missing children, drugs, alcohol, and abuse. Also, be prepared to set aside a few hours to become lost in the storyline.

The Last Child centres around 13 year old Johnny Merrimon, one year after the disappearance of his twin sister Alyssa. During that year, the Merrimon family went from middle class, happy, secure and loving to broken, poverty stricken, and distraught. Johnny's mum, Katherine, blames her husband for not fulfilling his promise to pick Alyssa up from the library, and guilt causes him to quickly leave his remaining family. Meanwhile, Katherine moves herself and Johnny into the slums of town, and only gets through the day by taking a wild assortment of pills, supplied by the town's richest citizen and her husband's former boss, Ken Holloway, who also physically abuses her.

Johnny's only friend, Jack, has his own issues: his arm is deformed from a childhood accident, his brother is a bully about to embark on a promising sports career, his father, a police detective, only has eyes for the older son, and Jack's mother, a fervently religious woman, prays for her youngest, who has taken to skipping school and numbing his emotional pain through alcohol. He is the only witness to Alyssa's abduction as she was pulled into a white van. Jack also is the only one to support Johnny in his obsession to find Alyssa, which leads them into incredibly dangerous situations tracking the scummiest characters in the area: child molesters.

Hart's book is not an easy read; it is cluttered and complicated, with many twists and turn, some which appear too coincidental to be conceivable. There's almost too much tragedy to make it believable, but it does show that 'ordinary' people can have their lives turned around quickly. It is difficult to read not only because of the disappearance of Alyssa, but the various family dynamics. Not only are Johnny's and Jack's families messed up, the lead detective in the case, Clyde Hunt, has lost his wife and is losing his only son because of his compulsion to solve Alyssa's disappearance. Throw in convict Levi Freemantle, with his own slew of problems, and you have some of the sorriest group of people you'll ever meet in literature.

Despite these 'flaws,' the book is compelling and difficult to put down. I may not have liked any of the characters, but I wanted to know the outcome. Hart manages to make the book's climax even more of a page turner by shortening his last few chapters, increasing tension and quickening the pace of the action.

I've read several books about missing children, some with 'happy' resolutions, some sad, and some with no resolution at all. The Last Child lacks the emotion and fullness of characterisation of some of the others, but it is a satisfying thriller that will keep you up late into the night.