Madeline Miller, THE SONG OF ACHILLES

I liked this book for many of the same reasons I loved Miller's more recent CIRCE. It's sort of a warp-to-weft novel, with the story of the Iliad's hero being told not by Achilles but by his sidekick and (in this book) lover Patroclos. The language is lovely and poetic; the pace quick. I thought the homosocial/homosexual bend is handled beautifully. Miller convincingly elaborates and elevates the psychology of these two men during the events of the ten-year war, so we understand why the theft of Briseis, for example, matters so deeply to Achilles, and as a result, Briseis becomes a rounder, more complex characters as well.

A few favorite lines that I read aloud just for the pleasure of hearing them in my ear. (And I know this doesn't do them justice; part of why they strike me is how they appear in relation to their context. But still, I want to share!)

I was listening to the drumbeat of my own impatient heart. "Hurry, I remember saying."

The gray sand, the gray sky, and my mouth, parched and bare.

I sank into the trailing thoughts of dreams.

Cleopatra, Patroclus. Her name built from the same pieces as mine, only reversed.

No spoilers but my heart broke a bit at the end. Would definitely recommend!

Fiona Davis, THE MASTERPIECE

I had high hopes for this book, as I love historical novels, especially those featuring strong women protagonists, and this split narrative, set in 1929 and 1974, had two! I truly appreciated the author's research, for the book contained interesting historical details about Grand Central and the art school that was located there. But I found the intertwining of the two plots forced and rushed at the end, for it felt to me that Virginia's work to uncover the truth about Clara--which might have been an opportunity to reveal how Virginia's character had evolved--occurred almost entirely offstage and is explained to the reader through the rather clumsy device of Virginia's monologue to a rapt audience. I felt as though the extramarital sex/romance plots were used to stand in for the psychological daring that I was never convinced the characters possessed. I was also repeatedly pulled out of the narrative by phrases that felt anachronistic for the 1920s and 1970s, at least to me--phrases like "freaking out" and "Virginia didn't care that she was coming off as a train geek," "looking forward to catching up" and "we're not a good fit." I see that many, many people loved this book ("Riveting, sophisticated and utterly sublime" from Tasha Alexander); I guess it just wasn't for me.

Anthony Horowitz, MAGPIE MURDERS, A NOVEL

Just finished and enjoyed this mystery by Anthony Horowitz, who created the TV series FOYLE'S WAR, which is one of my all-time favorites. This novel is literary, meta- and clever. The main character is an editor named Susan Ryeland, who has received her client Alan Conway's last mystery. He is dying of cancer, and he has written a novel that features an inspector named Atticus Pund, who is (also) dying of cancer. The entire mystery, entitled MAGPIE MURDERS, the last in a series of nine, is included inside this book, so there is a sort of Russian doll structure to it. The themes are broad: the publishing industry, the creative process, the line between autobiography and fiction, human curiosity, what authors owe readers, and what we owe the people we love. It's also wry and playful. I found myself scribble "Ha!" in the margins many times. Here's a typical passage that made me giggle:

"Haven't the public had enough of murder?" I asked.

"You're joking," [Redmond, a TV producer replied]. "Inspector Morse, Taggart, Lewis, Foyle's War, Endeavour, ... Broadchurch ... --British TV would disappear into a dot on the screen without murder. They're even bumping people off in the soap operas."

Would recommend.