Review: Tangerine

Rating: 3 Stars

I have always been a fan of old movies. From Humphrey Bogart to Paul Newman, from Ingrid Bergman to Grace Kelly, I have watched more old movies than new ones. Among some of my most favourite movies, are old classics like Gaslight, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, Rebecca, Rear Window and North By Northwest to name a few.

When I first got my hands on Tangerine, it reminded me of my love for old movies, particularly Hitchcock movies. I was really looking forward to losing myself in that old black and white world with mysterious characters who are all potential psychopaths. Sadly, I was quite disappointed with what I read.

The book starts off promisingly enough, with the narrative shifting between two women; one, who seems flaky and disturbed, and one, who seems obsessed and psychotic. Soon, however, it starts dragging and being repetitive. It became so boring that I was seriously thinking of not finishing it at all.

Halfway through, I had a fair idea of what was going to happen, and there were no surprises in the narrative. Everything was quite predictable, especially for thriller buffs like me.

Alice Shipley is a young woman, who has moved to Tangier with her new husband, John, and is finding the whole experience, being married and in a new country, very overwhelming. She seems to be very high-strung and nervous in crowds. Her condition has put a strain on her married life, and her husband seems to be drifting away from her.

When Lucy Mason, whom Alice hasn’t seen in more than a year, rings her bell, Alice is shocked and at a loss. After all, the two were best friends and roommates in college, but things happened that caused a rift between them. Lucy, however, is eager to get their old camaraderie back; and Alice is thankful to have a familiar face in the strange new world she has stepped into.

As Lucy starts to insinuate herself back in her life, Alice starts having the same uncomfortable feeling she used to have back in college. John, on the other hand, is becoming more and more distant. When he disappears without a trace, Alice starts having doubts about the reality of everything around her. Suddenly, she is not sure about anything; Tangier, Lucy or her own sanity.

The best thing about this book is the setting which is reminiscent of old suspense movies, and it would have worked if the book had been narrated by one of the women. Having multiple narrators is a double-edged sword, especially for thrillers, where you don’t want to give too much away, while keeping things interesting enough. In this instance, reading both perspectives leaves nothing to the imagination, and I was able to guess pretty much the whole story quite early on.

I gave this book three stars because the story itself is interesting, and Tangier appears like a living thing in front of your eyes. Too bad these were the only good things in the book for me.

Review: The Broken Girls

Rating: 3.75 Stars

The Broken Girls by Simone St. James is a chilling thriller with a paranormal twist. The central character is a boarding school for girls that used to take in troubled girls who no one wanted, but that has now become an abandoned, decrepit building after being shut down in 1979

In 1950, four roommates became each other’s friends and secret keepers at Idlewild Hall, a depressing boarding school, rumoured to be haunted. All four of them came from different backgrounds, but they formed strong bonds, helping each other survive in a hopeless place. Then one night, it all changes as one of them vanishes and is presumed to have run away.

In 1994, a girl was murdered, her dead body left on the hockey field of the deteriorating ruins of Idlewild Hall. The murder sent a shock through the small Vermont town, resulting in the conviction of the girl’s boyfriend.

Twenty years later, the dead girl’s sister, Fiona, now a journalist, still feels the echoes of the crime that destroyed her family. Try as she might, she is unable to let go of a feeling that something was not right with the investigation at the time of her sister’s murder. This obsession with the past has made it impossible for her to hold on to relationships or lead a normal life.

When Fiona finds out that someone is planning to restore Idlewild Hall and reopen it as a boarding school for girls, she thinks it is the perfect opportunity to write a story about the place, and maybe it will help exorcise her ghosts. But an unexpected discovery leads her to a strange case from the past, and things become more and more entangled as she tries to find out about the history of Idlewild Hall.

The tone of this novel is dark from the beginning. There is nothing light-hearted about this story. From the first page, you know that something dark and sinister is afoot. The scenes from the narrative of the past are deliciously eery, and you can feel a chill while reading about the school in 1950. The four girls are as different from each other as can be, and you can feel their frustration at what is predominantly a patriarchal society where they have to work towards the ultimate goal of acquiring a husband.

The parts about the present are not so impressive. Though Fiona’s character is interesting, and you feel her pain and unease, her interactions with others are rushed, the various other characters seeming one-dimensional and bland. The information that Fiona acquires seems to easy to get, and one thinks that why did it take her 20 years to get to this place.

The climax too was a bit disappointing, and over too quickly. With 300 plus pages, this is by no means a small book, but it is St. James’s gripping writing that made me want more details. The scenes where there is an element of the paranormal are quite spooky and scary, and I just wanted more of the same. The main female characters are all strong and real. I just wish the male characters were the same.

This book is more for fans of spooky books than those of mysteries and crime solving. Still, I had a good time reading it and would rate it higher than average.

Sunday Problem: Recommending Books

Disclaimer: If you’re easily offended, or take life too seriously, please don’t read this. Really. Stop reading.

When you read a lot of books, people who know you always ask for recommendations about what to read. Since you have some idea about your friends and family, it is natural to tell them about books that you think might interest them. So, when you start a bookstagram account and a blog about books, it is but natural for everyone to ask you for your recommendations.

Friends and family who used to ask for themselves, now tag you in anything that has the word book in it. I really don’t mind. I love telling people what to do and what to avoid. It is why I started writing this blog in the first place. What I don’t like is when people don’t like the books that I recommend. I mean, how can you not like them? How dare you? You should be aware that I’m a superior recommender of books. People should bow down to me in all things bookish!

How excited I get when I command, er, suggest what the other person should read, is evident by the fact that I never show any false modesty and haw and hem about what they like! It is but natural that everyone should want to read what I want to read. There are no two opinions about it.

I know people who take out time to ask the other person about their likes and dislikes, about what genres they might be interested in. Not me. I just assume that the other person will like what I tell them to like. And as far as assumptions go, it’s not that wrong an assumption! I mean, look at my HUGE fan following! Why, I have almost 25 followers on my blog and more than 700 on Instagram! If that is not achievement, I don’t know what is!

There was once a poor girl, who made the mistake of asking for some good thriller recommendations on Facebook. Some kindhearted person, knowing how she needs my help, tagged me on the post. I thought, “Why is this girl only reading thrillers? She needs to expand her horizons!” So, I insisted that she read Nicholas Sparks, Elif Shafak, Judith McNaught, John Green, and pretty much all romantic and philosophical writers, in two languages. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that being interested in one genre is a sin!

So, when I’m this considerate and accommodating, it really hurts when people tell me they didn’t like what I told them to read. It breaks my heart to see people remain ignorant and lost. However, the goodness of my heart doesn’t let me be deterred by so small a setback. I persist with my recommendations, in the hope that the other person might see the light some day. Yes, I know. I’m generous like that.

I feel that the purpose of my existence on this earth is to tell people which book to pick up next. I always tell my kids what they should read, but they’re ungrateful. Of course, it’s hard to value someone great when they live in your own house. Doesn’t matter. The ungrateful kids will learn one day. In the meanwhile, I’m most happy to unleash my recommending prowess on the world. No matter what you want to read, I have a book for you that I want you to read. You’re welcome.

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