It's short, it's unpolished, and the MC is an absolutely conniving bitch. And, oh, my god, it was magnificent.

Susan is horrid and also compelling. A fun (yet sadly not that far from reality) caricature of your garden variety sociopathic creature.

From the first letter I was laughing at the convolutions and machinations, and all the suspected make-up to what could be inferred of recent past happenings.

 

Facts are such horrid things!

And facts do come out, because it is a happy little story all things said. Oddly cute romp.

I'm not much for cozy mysteries. The vaguely acerbic nosy middle aged men and women that populate them tend to annoy me. As do the comedy of errors that people being secretive cause. I get it, the very human petty selfishness that makes one try to keep hidden personal peccadilloes even in the face of serious matters and even possible danger to loved ones. Doesn't mean I enjoy reading about it, or stop me from wishing to strangle the character even if I'm enjoying it.

With all those caveats, where this one wins is in the humour department. People are ridiculous and inconsistent, and the amount of bits I saved where Ray observes it plainly (and when in her, somewhat obliquely) are legion, and made me laugh quite a bit.

I still think the Innes family took a trip down blanket stupidity where useful communication was concerned.

The casual oh-so-benevolent racism also made me cringe so hard.

I own another of Rinehart's novels, so I might revisit. This not being my genre at all, the tone was fun.

And there goes my 4th Bingo. Now for black-out.

This was bloody amazing!

The writing was gorgeous, the braided in stories colorful and as bizarre as you could expect, and even when at their most tragic, always running this underground hilarity out of sheer cynicism and pragmatic pizazz. All seasoned with a good dose of feminism and magical realism.

I laughed a lot, but it actually ran me through the whole gamut of emotions and I did not want it to end. Loved it, will read more by the author, and will buy whatever of hers I can find around here.

This is my first Pratchett, and I had so much fun.

It was all the elements: the zanny world, all the stabs at our world's and several sub-types of fantasies usual conventions, Rincewind's quality of "Luck's *shhhhhhhh!* The Lady's plaything" and Twoflower's perfect embodiment of the "too oblivious and exited to get it" tourist. And the luggage. The luggage was awesome, and the way it kept coming back the gift that kept on giving.

It ends in a cliff-hanger, but I'm not too anxious over it, because I was on the ride for the humour more than closure.

And apparently, this is not the best to be had in the Discworld... Sold on the author.

Why did I take this long to read this? From Austen's big six, this is the last I got to. I mean, I know what my reasoning was: satire and humour was not what I was looking for when I searched for an Austen volume. But I was wrong to, because this was a great romp.

(On that note, one day I have to write long and hard on how the prominence of Pride and Prejudice in pop-media puts an expectation on what Austen writes about that is a total disservice to her body of work)

If you put this and Persuasion together, it's impossible to ignore that the woman's common thread is not romance, but social critique, and tropes and expectations. In this one she takes Gothic literature ones, and more than run with them, runs them over. Anne Brontë kinda did that in a very understated way. There is nothing understated here, and I was laughing from the opening lines alone... Actually, the overall initial setting is quite similar to Brontë's Agnes Grey's opening, just, you know, absolutely savage. Much like the whole book.

The charming part comes from Catherine being a sincerely good-natured soul, and pretty sensible on the whole, so even where she hypes herself from much sensational reading (and hell, like nobody ever got jumpy in the night after reading or watching some horror), and builds some weird fantasies on it, she never quite finds herself carried away on over-dramatic feelings of angst, be it romantic or otherwise. Even when other characters ask about them on hilariously detailed, over the top descriptions.

I get now why it is the favourite Austen among many. I had lots of fun with it.