The Colour of Magic (Terry Pratchett)
The first Discworld book, in publishing order, is pretty fun. It's also pretty light, a bit scatter-brained: funny without really sticking in my mind. There's something compelling about it, but at the same time it's far from what it could be -- far from being, say, like Good Omens. Still, I know that Pratchett's writing changes and develops throughout the series, and this was enjoyable -- I'll be reading the rest, eventually.
My favourite thing about this book was the Luggage. I just... found it adorable, somehow.
Despite liking it in a vague sort of smiling-at-it way, I don't have much to say about it.
An Unsuitable Job for a Woman (P. D. James)
Read for my Crime Fiction class. This one certainly wasn't talked up at all by the lecturer, which didn't help, but her comment that "Gray" is a very appropriate name for this female detective is unfortunately true. The whole book was drab and gray for me: the writing was never exciting, the tension never had me curious to read on, the characters rarely compelled me -- the only character I found interesting was the murdered boy, who I felt sorry for.
I'm sure this must be somehow influential or interesting in terms of Crime Fiction, but I couldn't get into it or enjoy it and I'm not planning to write an essay about it. The writing -- the actual mechanics of it, the characters, all of it -- is entirely functional, but entirely uninspired. Part of this might be me as a reader, and the world I've grown up in, of course. The idea of a female detective is no longer surprising, for one thing.
The first Discworld book, in publishing order, is pretty fun. It's also pretty light, a bit scatter-brained: funny without really sticking in my mind. There's something compelling about it, but at the same time it's far from what it could be -- far from being, say, like Good Omens. Still, I know that Pratchett's writing changes and develops throughout the series, and this was enjoyable -- I'll be reading the rest, eventually.
My favourite thing about this book was the Luggage. I just... found it adorable, somehow.
Despite liking it in a vague sort of smiling-at-it way, I don't have much to say about it.
An Unsuitable Job for a Woman (P. D. James)
Read for my Crime Fiction class. This one certainly wasn't talked up at all by the lecturer, which didn't help, but her comment that "Gray" is a very appropriate name for this female detective is unfortunately true. The whole book was drab and gray for me: the writing was never exciting, the tension never had me curious to read on, the characters rarely compelled me -- the only character I found interesting was the murdered boy, who I felt sorry for.
I'm sure this must be somehow influential or interesting in terms of Crime Fiction, but I couldn't get into it or enjoy it and I'm not planning to write an essay about it. The writing -- the actual mechanics of it, the characters, all of it -- is entirely functional, but entirely uninspired. Part of this might be me as a reader, and the world I've grown up in, of course. The idea of a female detective is no longer surprising, for one thing.