How the Light Gets In

How the Light Gets In by Louise Penny
(Minotaur Books / Macmillian Audio, 2013)
Format: Audio CDs via Audiobook Jukebox (narrated by Ralph Cosham)

From Goodreads: "Christmas is approaching, and in Québec it's a time of dazzling snowfalls, bright lights, and gatherings with friends in front of blazing hearths. But shadows are falling on the usually festive season for Chief Inspector Armand Gamache. Most of his best agents have left the Homicide Department, his old friend and lieutenant Jean-Guy Beauvoir hasn't spoken to him in months, and hostile forces are lining up against him. 

When Gamache receives a message from Myrna Landers that a longtime friend has failed to arrive for Christmas in the village of Three Pines, he welcomes the chance to get away from the city. Mystified by Myrna's reluctance to reveal her friend's name, Gamache soon discovers the missing woman was once one of the most famous people not just in North America, but in the world, and now goes unrecognized by virtually everyone except the mad, brilliant poet Ruth Zardo. 

As events come to a head, Gamache is drawn ever deeper into the world of Three Pines. Increasingly, he is not only investigating the disappearance of Myrna's friend but also seeking a safe place for himself and his still-loyal colleagues. Is there peace to be found even in Three Pines? And at what cost to Gamache and the people he holds dear?"

Ah, sweet wonderful Inspector Gamache and the haven on fictional earth that is Three Pines! How I do love it! And I missed it, which is bonkers, but Penny's last Gamache book didn't take him to Three Pines, and, sure, the place can't support all that many murderers, but I was still eager for Penny to take him back there. And as Gamache is such a broken and fragile creature (you'd never know it; he is a pillar, but those of us who love him can see the cracks) when this book opens, it's crucial to his very soul that he is nestled in the town's bosom ASAP. Even if he's there because of yet another murder.

Obviously, these characters very much get under my skin and take on a life of their own, as does the town. I've read plenty of small-town series in my day, but rarely have I been able to mentally navigate them as thoroughly as I can Three Pines. Sit me on the bench in front of the pond - if Ruth and her duck will make room for me - and I can point you to the B&B or Myrna's bookstore (Ruth, it's not a library!), and tell you the story of why there are three pines in Three Pines. And then we'll go to the bistro for lunch, and not leave for hours.

Penny creates it all with such a tender sensibility, and she does the same with Gamache and the troubling world of the Sûreté du Québec - and wow. Because there are some long, long narrative threads happening within Homicide, and my mind spins when I imagine Penny laying them out so many books and murders ago. She always keeps the overall arcs moving in relentless and compelling ways, but I was blown away by this one. I can only hope she keeps spinning out more.

And it's a pleasure to have Ralph Cosham talking me through those threads, over the course of 12 CDs. He continues to inhabit the story deeply; I think his heart broke as he narrated in the same places my heart broke. I loved his pacing, his intonations, his overall investment in the work as he read it. This is truly a magical author-narrator pairing, long may it continue!

Armchair Audies Category Report: Mystery

And my final official Armchair Audies category: Mystery! 

The nominees for the Audie award are:

THE NIGHTMARE Lars Kepler Read by Mark Bramhall (Macmillan Audio) Read the review
THE BEAUTIFUL MYSTERYLouise Penny Read by Ralph Cosham (Macmillan Audio) Read the review
AND WHEN SHE WAS GOODLaura Lippman Read by Linda Emond (Harper Audio) Read the review
HUSH MONEYChuck Greaves Read by Dan Butler (AudioGO) Read the review
THE GOOD THIEF'S GUIDE TO VEGASChris Ewan Read by Simon Vance (AudioGO) Read the review

Confession time! (All these detectives around, I'd better confess readily or who knows what will happen to me.) I didn't ever get around to Hush Money. I mean, I listened to the sample, and Butler's voice is fine - a little more nasal than I like, and he hits some notes a bit hard - but the book held no interest at all for me, and it took a long time to arrive from the interlibrary loan, so I just didn't listen.

Still, I listened to - and enjoyed - the rest. And talked about them. (The Beautiful Mystery, The Nightmare, The Good Thief's Guide to Vegas, And When She Was Good.) Overall, it was a strong category and a lot of happy hours of listening for me. I was already a fan of Penny and (to a lesser degree) of Lippman and Ewan, so I knew I'd have a tough time picking between them. 

But pick I did, and Cosham's narration of The Beautiful Mystery was enthralling. I look forward to hearing on Thursday that I am correct! I'm also going to continue listening to as much as these authors publish. (Give or take Greaves.)

Miracles Scary and Sacred

And now back to my regularly scheduled program of books coverage. I've got quite a few fun novels to cover, so buckle your seat belts, because I'm a-bloggin', people.

The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker is another of those mind-bending debuts that makes me happy about modern fiction. It has a sci-fi premise, but more coming-of-age than space-age. Julia is ten when the world begins to slow. Something's wrong with the gravitational pull of the Earth, making days and nights stretch out first by minutes, then by hours. Birds fall from the sky, crops fail, but the school bells still ring, whether it's light out or dark. At least at first. Meanwhile, Julia's parents are struggling with their marriage, her Mormon best friend has moved from their San Diego suburb to Utah to face the End of Days, and she has a crush on the boy whose piano lesson is after hers. Walker does a fascinating job juxtaposing Julia's growing awareness of the world around her, both the global and the smaller moments that shape her changing reality. As her neighborhood dissolves in the battle between the Real Timers and the Clock Timers, as her parents struggle with their connection, Julia realizes that no one can tell her what the future will hold. The uncertain world will go on, in surprising, sad, beautiful ways, but Julia can only live one moment at a time.

Walker isn't the only one seeing the world reeling from unexpected changes. One of my for-decades-now favorite authors, Barbara Kingsolver, has messed with the Monarchs in her latest, Flight Behavior. The butterflies have settled for the winter in the woods of Feathertown, TN, instead of their recently-destroyed habitat in far-warmer Mexico. It's a miracle, but a scary one, since it grows out of climate change and the depletion of natural resources. And it's scariest of all to the marvelously drawn Dellarobia Turbow, who first discovers the forest of quiet flame when hiking her in-laws' land in a desperate climb away from the stifling mundanity of her daily life. She was pregnant and married at 17, which was the end of her illusive dreams of college and a different life from that she'd seen growing up. Years of failing to fit in with her husband's family, years of staying home catering to the demands of small children, years of failing to speak up as her mother-in-law belittled her and her neighbors took advantage of her and her husband took her for granted all propelled her to that butterfly-covered copse. And the mass of bright orange wings (a sight I remember well from my college days - if you ever get a chance to visit Natural Bridges during a Santa Cruz winter, take it!) was enough to stop Dellarobia in her not-yet-adulterous tracks and return her, though changed, to her family. When the in-laws plan to sell the butterfly grove for timber money, Dellarobia finds herself getting charismatic Pastor Bobby involved in her preservation efforts. The butterflies, and Dellarobia, inadvertently go viral. Everyone has a say: the church, climate scientists, biologists, lumberjacks, activists. Everyone but Deallarobia's husband, who is just waiting for the furore to settle down so he can go back to his normal life. The poor man just can't see the silent orange fire now in Dellarobia's spirit, but oh, will she soar.


Another atmospheric, lovely, absorbing novel is Louise Penny's The Beautiful Mystery. I've mentioned Penny's Inspector Gamache before, and he's no less dear to me after eight novels. I'm also mighty taken with his top aide, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, who accompanies him this time to the reclusive, almost hidden, monastery to investigate the murder of the choir director who brought Gregorian chants to modern ears. It is a closed community of only 24 - now 23 - living in apparent self-sufficient harmony. Now their vows of silence are rescinded to allow Gamache and Beauvoir to find out which of the men is a killer. The mystery itself is adroit and complex, and the effect of the monastery on Gamache and on Beauvoir is compelling. Both men are dealing with the long fallout of a previous case, and being isolated has brought much of it to the fore. I was grabbed tight by their struggles and enchanted, as well, by the chants and the monastic community. 

Updates - I know you've all been wondering!

First of all, my desk. You'll all be relieved to know that, inspired by Nicole Krauss's Great House, I did finally finish the Great Desk Unburying Project of 2011, and am now sitting at a very orderly, very work-friendly antique roll-top desk. Ain't she a beaut?

Also, my smart, charming, handsome husband conducted the on-stage interview of Krauss and Francisco Goldman this week for Inprint Houston, and he told her about my desk project. She told him she'd had people name children after Alma in her The History of Love, but since Great House doesn't lend itself to that kind of homage, mine was the best. Yeah, that's right, the best. (I may be paraphrasing.)

Next up, my son. Although he still has War and Peace on his bedside table, K hasn't gotten much further with it since my initial blog post about it. He's read no shortage of other novels since, most of which far exceed the average reading level for his age (lest you think I think he's anything short of brilliant!) My brother-in-law, who is a journalist covering the publishing industry, wrote about K in his newsletter in August, which was fun. Also, it was great for my Blogger Stats, which, not to put too much pressure on you lovely readers or anything, I like to view probably too often. I broke into the elusive South American market thanks to him - now I've either been read or "read" in six continents. As soon as I crack Antarctica, I'll be, like, rich and famous and stuff.

At any rate, here K is this morning playing his new saxophone. He's in middle school now, so we won't even stress me out by mentioning all the different things he's doing with his after-school time. (Naturally, he is phenomenally talented and successful at all of them. And beloved by his friends and his mentors. And his not in the least biased parents.)

(For the record, the other son, who is closing in on his 16th birthday, is ALSO brilliant, talented, adorable, charming, loving, and successful. I'd give you a pic of him, if only I ever saw him. Between school, orchestra commitments, his band - oh, wait, two bands now - practices (original band has another paid gig this weekend!), soccer, the girlfriend, and now, since he wasn't busy, the school musical, I'm only sure he still lives here due to the ever waxing and waning supplies of Nutella and bananas we have to keep in stock for his daily peanutellanana sandwiches.)

Oh, yeah, and books. I haven't posted a lot about what I'm reading lately, not because I've suddenly stopped or anything (as if), but because I've been reading / listening to a ton of sequels to previously blogged about novels. More Meyer, more Penny, more James, more Sayers, more Heyer, more Martin. (I just downloaded the third Fire and Ice book - almost 50 hours! I'll start it... soon.) Never you fear, though, I've got a couple of things in progress that I'll blog about soon.

More detectives, this time with paint

This summer I've been positively frolicking with Lord Peter Wimsey, Dorothy L. Sayers's charming amateur detective. How I got to be 41 years old before I picked one up is as big a mystery as anything Lord Peter tackles. (I'm prematurely sad about the fact that by the time I'm 42, I'll have read everything Sayers published.) The last one I finished, Five Red Herrings, is so far my least favorite, though you may as well ask which type of scone I like least. (However, Amazon didn't have an image of it to link, so I put in Have His Carcase, which I'm in the middle of now and relishing for all its great worth.) What holds Herrings back is the scarcity of Bunter, Wimsey's wry and uber-capable manservant/fellow investigator, and of Chief Inspector Parker, who sits back at Scotland Yard not doing much this time as Wimsey bounds from place to place in Scotland figuring out who killed the painter Campbell. It all hinges on what was missing from the scene of the crime, and only because Wimsey knows a bit about painting does anyone know there was a crime at all.

Painting techniques and small-town artists are the focus of Louise Penny's first Chief Inspector Gamache mystery, Still Life. Penny's Anglo-centric Quebec town of Three Pines is full of interesting people who seem to hover frequently on the brink of change, and it's nice to know that Gamache will be back to visit them, even though it will be to solve future cases. The murder in Still Life is of Jane Neal, the perfectly nice, beloved, slightly reclusive retired schoolteacher. Gamache is an intellectual detective, who uses teamwork and insight to solve cases, and he is great fun to watch at work.

Turning to suspense, this month I read my first Geoffrey Household novel - his most famous, Rogue Male. Atmosphere, psychology, intrigue, a mean feral cat who might ruin everything - this has it all. No wonder it's a classic. The hero (unnamed) has been caught almost-assassinating an also unnamed European dictator and manages to escape back to England, but he can't rest there. He knows too much, and has to go to ground to keep the dictator's forces from finding him. He can't put his compatriots in danger by seeking help, and can't go to the government because of the delicate political situation (this is in the 1930s, so....) It's all very tense and very yummy and you should definitely check it out.