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You need a whopping big dose of disbelief suspension to read this series, so be warned. If you can't handle woo-woo, in this case, historical ghosts, you won't make it through. If you can, it would be better if you actually believed. The story-telling is good, but if you can't buy into restless spirits wandering the earth, it's going to be harder going for you. Deborah Grabien has now written two books using the themes of traditional folk songs in solving a mystery. I read the first and found it, pardon me, sort of cute, since I so strongly don't believe. But it was pretty well written and I've listened to folk music (trad and modern) for most of my life and while Grabien now lives in San Francisco, she is described as a "former resident of England" (whatever that means) so I'd like to think she makes few errors in describing the place. I don't know, I've never been, but many American-based authors who have set their books in Britain, face criticism for getting it wrong. THE WEAVER AND THE FACTORY MAID was a good book; diverting, interesting characters, all those things. It seemed short but you know what? That was appropriate since the author had a short tale to tell and didn't weigh it down, the way too many writers do, with too many subplots and bits that beg to be cut. So good for St. Martin's for not pumping these books full of filler. This second book, also coming in at only a little over 200 pages, is in the same vein. The problem that I see, however, is that both stories are actually novellas, stretched into novels. It's a good premise (a ghost haunts a place and must be dealt with and placated) without enough strength for me. I got bored and restless, even at 200 pages. There was not enough to keep my full attention and I felt that the author filled too much space by repeating the story. A lot. Someone goes and researches some history. Then she relates the history to other people. Then she meets someone else and in order to explain what she needs from that person, she relates the story. Again. And the research is delved into. Again. Would it have helped if I had a stronger interest in John of Gaunt and the Tudor line and bastardy and the English royal houses? I'm guessing yes. I have almost no interest in such things, although I sure don't turn away from books that discuss them. I'll read them as I'll read any other historical mystery, or novel. But I got lost in this one. I also can't imagine where Grabien is going to go with this series. All amateur sleuth mysteries require a certain suspension of disbelief; the 'Jessica Fletcher syndrome' (that I and others started dubbing it over 10 years ago) means that ordinary people simply don't run into that many corpses in a lifetime. So coming up with a rather crazed ghost or two every book seems to me even more unlikely. But how different is that from say reading vampire mysteries, or other supernatural theme mysteries? For me, the difference is that, for example, Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse series (which I love, by the way) lays no claims to being 'real'. This is an alternate world where vampires have come out of the dirt-lined closet, and synthetic blood is available. In Grabien's world, however, the people are real; pub owners and musicians and lords and restoration architects and historians. And the vast majority of them, apparently, because of religion or other belief system, seems to accept that ghosts, or spirits roam the earth. Had I been In the band, I would have been either laughing my head off or decided to find a new group that needed my talents. I would not have stuck around with all the . But then, I hear that huge numbers of people believe in angels, so maybe it's me. I was surprised to trip over some stilted dialogue here that bugged me. I suspect it was a fluke, as it was just one example and I read the book without, for the most part, being aware of the new novelist problem of the expository lump but it stuck out loudly. If you were to meet someone who was part of your fave music group, I doubt you would say "You're the front man and the guitar player for Broomfield Hill, aren't you?" No, you'd say "Oh, you're in Broomfield Hill!" or "You play in Broomfield Hill, don't you?" -- you would not explicate. It jumped off the page at me and it's not as if we didn't know Ringan's position in his folk group. Please, authors, try it out loud. And really, naming one's guitar 'Lord Randall'? Okay, okay, I just listen to the stuff, I don't play it. (Anyone wanna hear Matty Groves? No? darn.) The good points of this book? A lovely fairy story -- no, not the ghost, but the appearance of a rather eccentric relative who leaves Penny an abandoned Victorian theater in London (like they need more theaters in London?) to restore, along with a humongous amount of money with which to restore it. (See AUNT DIMITY'S DEATH, by Nancy Atherton and a rather wonderful little paperback by Michael Z Lewin writing as Lew Matthews called UNSEEN WITNESS for "when good things happen to good people" themes). I'm not clear why it's necessary, as I say, to have another theater company in Britain offering more of the 'classics' with all the newer theater that's out there (and please, I'm not saying we shouldn't pay attention to Euripides and Shakespeare and all). Penny and Ringan and their friends are pretty well drawn. There's a lot of historical detail for those who enjoy that. It does feel as if there's a bit of luck involved in tracing the history of this horrid ghost, and too many people spending decades of their lives tracking down obscure bits of history, but again, fault the reviewer's lack of sympathy toward such things. Clearly there are folks who do this and are content with it.
Reviewed by Andi Shechter, November 2004
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