Book Title: If Books Could Kill
Author: Kate Carlisle
Year of Publication: 2010
Series: Bibliophile Mystery
Goodreads Rating (Avg.): 3.9
Goodreads Rating (Mine): 1
Note: This is the first Negative Review I’m writing for this blog. ‘Negative Review’ is a label I will be reserving for DNF (Did Not Finish) books, and other books that receive a Goodreads rating of 1 or 2 from me. For such books, I also plan on maintaining a Sin Count, because just as some books deserve to be held up as examples and recommended to everybody, so are there books that the reading public deserves to be warned away from.
Plot Description: Brooklyn Wainwright is a professional book restorer who tends to get mixed up in mysteries involving books. Derek Stone is the charming and handsome detective who tries to solve those mysteries. In If Books Could Kill, Brooklyn is given a very rare book that could potentially anger the British Royal Family and asked to authenticate it. Shortly after she receives the book, the guy who gave it to her – Kyle, an ex of hers – ends up dead. She wonders whether the book is responsible for Kyle’s death.
So I didn’t finish this book. Which might be perceived as strange, because it has a great opening paragraph:
If my life were a book, I would have masking tape holding my hinges together. My pages would be loose, my edges tattered and my boards exposed, the front flyleaf torn and the leather mottled and moth-eaten. I’d have to take myself apart and put myself back together, as any good book restoration expert would do.
I haven’t gotten very far in the book, which must be why I don’t know what happened to Brooklyn – can I call her BW? – to make her feel this way about herself. She’s a successful young woman, one of the topmost experts in her field, and she’s recently come into a lot of money. While it’s true that she’s grieving, has her mentor’s death affected her so badly that her ‘pages are loose, edges tattered and boards exposed &c. &c.’?
Ridiculous rhetorical questions aside, let’s move onto the story. Not having read the previous book in this series, I have to take other GR reviewers at their word on the fact that the cast of the previous book have simply been imported into this one. On purportedly lazy pretexts. Since I don’t have this on my own authority, I’m going to give this potential Sin a pass.
“Aye, you do, love. And for that, the [Indian Pale Ale’s] on the house.”
She nodded judiciously. “Of course it’s jet lag if you say so.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “But my woman’s intuition thinks ’tis a man you’re mulling over.”
Her eyes twinkled gaily. “Aye, I knew it.” She tapped the side of her head. “Can’t another woman tell when one of her ilk is suffering, then? And isn’t it always about a man. Damn their skins!”
“Haud yer wheesht!” she yelled over her shoulder, then smiled sweetly at me. “Enjoy your luncheon and take good care.” She turned and marched to the bar, where she bared her teeth at the burly bartender as she collected a tray of drinks.
I wasn’t an expert in the Scottish dialect, but I believed she’d just suggested to her boss that he shove a sock in his piehole.
Do the Scottish actually talk like that? I don’t know. Can’t comment.
The first character we meet is Helen Chin, one of BW’s friends.
Helen Chin grinned as she glided confidently through the bar, her glossy black hair cut in a short, sassy bob. She’d always been demure and soft-spoken, a brilliant, petite Asian woman with lustrous long hair and a shy smile. The haircut and the confidence were major changes since the last time I saw her.
Having to tell your readers that a character is doing something ‘confidently’ gives, in my opinion, the opposite impression. (Sins: 1)
I took a closer look at her, checking out the new hairstyle, her pretty red jacket, black pants and shiny black shoes. “You look amazing, and you’ve lost weight. Are you moonlighting as a supermodel?”
Commenting on someone’s weight gain or loss is not as much of a compliment as people would have you believe. (2)
[Yes, I know I’m being nitpicky, but these things didn’t actually bother me until I began to sense a pattern.]
Helen was right. I’d never liked Martin Warrington, and I wasn’t the only one. When she’d announced her engagement in Lyon, I hadn’t understood how such a smart woman could marry such an annoying man. Then I figured, with my own stellar record of bad choices and broken engagements, I was hardly one to criticize.
At the time, I was more sorry for myself than for her, because I knew we wouldn’t be able to be friends once she married Martin. He didn’t like me any more than I liked him, probably because I’d tried to talk Helen out of marrying him and he’d caught wind of it.
Neither of these ladies are endearing themselves to me. Helen goes ahead and marries an ass, and BW feels bad for selfish reasons. Okay.
“Martin didn’t like me attending the book fairs.” She shook her head in irritation. “He said I flirted too much.”
Why would anyone put up with this? (3)
[Martin’s] smile disappeared as he confronted Helen. “I told you I’d meet you on the conference level.”
“And I told you I’d try to make it but probably wouldn’t be able to,” Helen said defiantly. (emphasis mine)
“We have to talk now.” He pushed up the sleeves of his linen jacket.
“I’m off to meet a client,” she said as she glanced at her wristwatch. “I can try to see you at two thirty.”
If you still need to be ‘defiant’ towards your soon-to-be-ex husband, that just implies that I was right with my comment earlier about the fake confidence. (4)
BW then has a run in with another figure from the industry – a Perry McDougal – who’s rude and pompous and has no issues with cutting ahead of a queue. He also doesn’t seem to have any problem with calling random women “silly wench” and “crazed bitch” when they call him out on his rudeness. Now, I know people like this exist out here in the real world. Yes, they can be terribly sexist, arrogant and entitled. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that a woman like BW, who is probably capable of recognizing said sexist entitlement, fails to call him out on it. (5) Indeed, I’m not even sure she does recognize the sexism, because she explains his behaviour as being a function of his narcissism and self importance. (6) And she’s constantly apologetic about her rather weak attempts at standing up for herself. (7)
Protagonist frightens herself with idea of turning into crazy-old-spinster trope. (8)
Protagonist tells herself standing up for herself isn’t such a bad thing. (8-0.5=7.5)
Without warning I was grabbed from behind, lifted off the ground and twirled around.
I screamed and swore loudly at my assailant. Then I realized who it was and swore even more.
“Despite that mouth of yours, you’re more beautiful than ever,” he said.
“Kyle McVee, you idiot!” I cried, and hugged him hard.
“Ah, you’ve missed me,” he crowed as he held me snugly in his arms.
“No, I didn’t miss you,” I said, burying my face in the crook of his delicious-smelling neck. “You’re a cad and a rat fink, remember? The Bad Boy Bookseller of Belgravia. I curse your name every morning.”
“I love you, too, my sweet,” he said with a laugh. “Besides, I’ve mellowed.”
Overkill much? (8.5) And whoa. Why would you be on friendly terms with someone with such little regard for personal space? (9.5)
Guy seems to think being foul mouthed should detract from a woman’s beauty. (10.5)
“Oh, stop it.” I stood back and looked at the man who’d broken my heart three-or was it four?-years ago. My breath almost caught as I stared.
This breath-catching business comes up a lot – usually every time BW looks at a good looking guy. It’s an annoying stereotype. Can I offer you an inhaler, Brooklyn darling? (11.5)
I straightened my shirt and jacket and tried to find some trace of decorum, but it was useless. My cheeks heated up at his blatant perusal. I tried to remind myself that if I’d been so darling, why had he felt so compelled to cheat on me more than once during the six months we dated while I lived in London? A simple question.
I knew the answer: He couldn’t help himself.
Female protagonist who feels extremely self conscious and gets flustered every time a good looking guy checks her out. I know this is supposed to convey the power in the guy’s stare, but honestly, she seems to respond to every attractive guy the same way (case in point: Derek Stone later in the novel). (12.5)
(Rich) boys will be (rich) boys stereotype. That’s just plain lazy, BW. (13.5)
Protagonist blames self for feeling hurt by the cheating ways of the cheater. (14.5)
Charming Cheater (CC) condescendingly encourages protagonist to consume more alcohol when she’s clearly not in the mood. (15.5) Protagonist consumes alcohol even though she’s not in the mood because it’s what she thinks she’s supposed to do. (16.5)
CC is condescendingly impressed when BW proves to be good at her job, even though he purportedly came to her because of her expertise. (17.5) CC reveals that BW wasn’t his first choice for the job, thus making his condescending approval from a moment ago self explanatory. (18.5)
Usage of crude terms that rob the female party of her agency to describe a consensual sexual relationship (“scottish bad boy diddling the english rose”). (19.5)
Giant plot hole if the reason people are getting killed is because either the British royal family or Robert Burns fans don’t want bad PR. (20.5)
Rampant fatphobia. (21.5)
Okay, I’m going to stop now. There’s no point, really.
Derek Stone seems to suffer from Christian Grey Syndrome, and BW is a veritable Anastasia Steele – except Ana wasn’t prone to fainting fits. I have an uncontrollable urge to slap Brooklyn Wainwright, and I’ve been swearing non stop at the book for a couple of hours now. The protagonist and her female friends are childish, immature and downright pathetic. They show an alarming proclivity for bitchiness, shrill screaming, and fainting. I’m glad I didn’t invent a drinking game based on every time one of these idiots faints. None of the ridiculously hot men in the book cry, or otherwise show emotion or vulnerability. Derek keeps assuming that every time Brooklyn gets hurt or is otherwise in danger, it’s somehow her fault. (And this happens a lot.) Now where have I heard that before?
Oh that’s right. Twilight.
A terrible book, and if this one’s anything to go by, the preceding book in the series is bound to be awful as well.
Sin Count: 21.5 (and counting)