I decided to join the 50 books in 365 days group as an added incentive to read more literature, and perhaps some non-grad school related non-fiction (and as an incentive to record my reflections, however coarse, on the books I read). I doubt if I'll write such long, rambling reflections on all of the books I read. Since I've started listening to audiobooks while exercising, my book count may be higher than usual. Last year it was about 35, but this year I'll have a three week summer vacation instead of a three month summer vacation. That will surely make a (sad) difference.
Book #1. The Bone Garden, by Tess Gerritsen. Published in 2007 by Ballantine Books. (finished Wednesday, 3 January 2008).
Perhaps my judgment of this book is colored by the fact that I found the narrator's Bostonian accents almost insufferably annoying. As insufferably annoying as the "bad" characters who possessed these accents, characters so one-dimensionally bad (greedy, licentious, murderous, etc) that I wanted to slam the book shut and have done with them the instant I met them.
There are some redeeming qualities to the book, but its plotting is not among them. The Bone Garden consists of two notably unbalanced plots - one set in the present day and one set in 1830. The 1830 plot receives the bulk of attention, and whenever the present day plot disrupts the narrative, one can't help but regard it as a less than effective plot device. Removing it might have given the author the space to tighten the main plot into a suspenseful murder story and romance. But it's easy for me to criticize, since I've never written a book myself... I haven't written something critical about someone else's writing since I completed my master's in anthropophagy. I guess old habits die hard.
So, what is the substance of The Bone Garden? A dissatisfied divorcee buys a rundown old house and, during her attempts to hoe the garden, discovers a long-buried skeleton. Hence the title. The forensic anthropologists tell her it is from the early 19th century. It belongs a young woman who was probably murdered, judging by the dents in her skull. The divorcee thereupon conveniently discovers a trove of 19th century letters that conveniently give her a window into the circumstances of the murder. Yet it really is not so convenient, since these present day episodes do little to further the 19th century plot. As I mentioned earlier, the narrative is weighted heavily to the 1830 side, occasionally surfacing to the present day for the divorcee to discover another letter or news article of dubious significance.
The strength of the book lies, perhaps, in the descriptions of early 19th century maternity wards - for the 1830 storyline revolves around the disputed paternity of the baby of an Irish immigrant girl who died after childbirth. Certainly, the author knows her medical history, and in any case, I'm not in any position to judge her research. Another related theme is the resurrectionists, those medical students and other desperate characters who dug up fresh corpses to sell to medical colleges or to use for their own dissections, in a time when anatomists had only the bodies of executed criminals to dissect. Yet even in this area, some of the description seems gratuitous - it provides the reader with an image of something interesting, yet not something that is integral to the plot.
Maybe this review is uncharitable. I think the concept behind the book had potential, but it needed more polishing. Anyway, it's a good book to jog to or to wash dishes to. And wrapped in a fleece blankie with one or two kitties on your lap, you may even enjoy it.
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