Review: “The Murderer’s Ape” by Jekub Welelius

The life of Sally Jones, the ship’s engineer on the Hudson Queen, who just happens to be a gorilla, is thrown into chaos when she and her captain become unwitting pawns in an attempt to overthrow the government. When her best friend is framed for murder she is forced on a journey to prove her innocence that takes her from the kitchen of a Portuguese singer to the palace of a Indian Maharaja.

I’ve had this book on my reading pile for over half a year. I can’t say exactly why it took me so long to start it. I bought it on a whim at a writing event last September, so it wasn’t high up on my list. And I think it’s size put me off a little. I’ve read a few larger books this year that have been slow and ponderous, and I think I wanted to avoid another one.

But once I finally picked it up I really enjoyed The Murderer’s Ape. Despite its length it wasn’t actually that long a read. It refers to itself as a children’s book, but unless you have a year’s worth of bedtime stories to get through I’d have thought it would be a bit much for a child. But it’s not quite young adult. I feel its target audience are those preconscious children who find that early joy in reading. The kind who get their enjoyment from reading books other children can’t manage. Who voluntarily read Lord of the Rings at ten.

I can’t say the story really grabbed me, but I think that’s more because of my age than any fault of the book. I think its a little slow in places, and could have done with a little more peril or thrill, but that’s more my personal taste. It’s a fun, globe trotting tale, filled with a colourful cast of characters, and I think a younger reader would get a lot out of this.

And in the end the length wasn’t an issue. It didn’t take long at all. The writing is good enough that you a zip through without every thinking it’s a chore. I’ve read far thinner novels that have felt like they took longer to read than this one.

A selling point of the book is the art, all of which was done by the author. The story is preceded by a selection of portraits of the main characters, which gives a wonderful feel of the story to come. Those, and the maps included in the covers, signal the nature of the story you have coming, which I think helps mitigate the size of the book. It’s big, but you’re shown it’s scope from the beginning so you don’t worry you’re going to get bored. It also added an element of charm you don’t often see.

The Murderer’s Ape is definitely worth reading if you have the chance. Or would be the perfect gift for that teenager in your life who can’t seem to stop reading.

Review: The Beauty of Murder

This was an odd one for me. Taken in it’s entirety, I liked every aspect of it. It’s only looking at each aspect individually that different elements jarred for me.

fullsizeoutput_33a4The Beauty of Murder has an truly fascinating concept; how do you track down and capture a time travelling murderer? Someone who can dump a body centuries before they committed the crime? Or even after? Stephen Killigan is a newly arrived Cambridge lecturer who stumbles upon the body of a missing beauty queen that seemingly disappears before he can show anyone. Soon he finds himself caught up in the web of Jackamore Grass, a man with the ability to time travel and a fascination with the apparent beauty of death.

The book itself is great. I’m not a massive fan of crime mysteries, but this avoids most of the tropes I dislike and its concept gaves it a twist that adds a wonderfully fantastical element that other books of this genre often lack. The writing itself is great, and for the most part the characters are interesting and believable.

The only one who put me off a bit was, unfortunately, the protagonist himself. I didn’t go to Cambridge so I might not know the place or the culture, but Stephen Killigan just didn’t quite fit for me. He was a little too cool, and little too instantly popular. The scenes of him teaching didn’t really feel believable for someone starting a prestigious new job. (He also seemed to have a habit of getting tattoos on a whim, from tattooist who will work on people who have just wondered into their shop, which left me a little judging as to their integrity, but I think that’s just me.) Most of the time I had no problem with him, especially once the story got going and I was able to settle into him. It just took a little while to get comfortable enough to slide past those ragged parts.

The other issue I had was the timeframe. About halfway through there is a massive time jump which didn’t seem to be addressed. Without wanting to give too much away, one of the main characters goes through a serious operation that would have required several weeks of recovery. But this jump isn’t addressed, and I was left with the feeling that the plot just paused for a few months. It didn’t ruin the story, I just feel that there needed to be something more here to address this as it left me wondering why all the other character just got on with their lives waiting for this one to get batter.

But other than these two gripes I really enjoyed The Beauty of Murder. It took a few chapters for me to get into it, and the middle had this jarring point where timeframes didn’t match up, but the rest of it was great. A brilliant concept, intriguing ideas and a murderer with methods I hadn’t read anywhere else.

Review: Stick and Stones

Imogen has lived her life under the control of her husband, Phillip, from the first day she met him. Even after her left her and their son for a younger woman, their shared past has meant she’s never been able to be truly free of him. But when he suddenly demands she move out her house in two weeks, it start of a series of events that brings Imogen together with Phillip’s first wife and new girlfriend. Together they learn that through Phillip they share a bond no one else can understand, and decide that they will finally no longer allow him to control them.

img_0299.jpg

Sticks and Stones (Or Exes Revenge in America) is an amazing debut novel, and an astounding piece of domestic noir. Opening with the Phillip’s funeral, we’re then taken back over the previous two weeks – and the years preceding –  to discover exactly what happened that led to his death.

The story is expertly put together. It manages to twist and turn without ever feeling gimmicky or predictable. At no point do you get bored or feel anything is being padded out. Jakeman’s writing is lean and slick, leaving in nothing unnecessary. She perfectly keeps the mystery going without resorting to cheap tricks or cliches, throwing in red herrings and distractions that made it impossible to guess where we’re heading. At times I thought I’d guessed incoming reveals onto to discover I was completely wrong.

But as good as the story is, it’s the characters that really make this book. The concept of the mentally abusive husband and dominated wife finally seeking revenge is one that could easily become two dimensional, but Jakeman has created a cast of characters who all feel fleshed out and real. You really feel for Imogen, who never comes across as either comically weak or impossibly resolved. When she changes it’s because her character development brought here there, not because the plot required it to move forward. She comes across as a real person doing her best to avoid conflict with an ex-husband she knows can control her but can do nothing about, all the while fighting to protect her son over everything else. Phillip, too, is never a pantomime villain. He may be a monster, but he’s a monster of the type we all know is so very real. The kind who hides behind a reputation and knows exactly what they are doing.

Sticks and Stones isn’t any easy read. There are trigger warnings for all aspects of domestic abuse here. But all of it is packaged in an impossibly hard to put down story of one woman discovering how far she is prepared to go to defend her child and get revenge on a man determined to ruin her life.