Ngaio Marsh, "Overture to Death"

Ngaio Marsh leaves her usual habitat of the professional stage in this one, and descends to the level of amateur theatricals in the village hall. Perhaps fortunately, we never get to see any of them (and I say this as a once-eager participant myself) as the murder happens before the curtain rises on the opening night.

I am getting better at picking up clues that aren't remarked on, and I got the identity of the murderer from one of these. I still can't be bothered to follow through and work out the boring opportunity bits, though. When you know how, you know who, etc, and who cares about when?

Aside from all that, the general setting left a rather nasty taste in my mouth. It was a dotty English village in spades, with not one but two cassock-clingers, and a scheming widow. Misogyny, much? Also Comic Dorset Accents, which made me cringe rather. Generally, an reasonably interesting mystery, but, like pretty much all of Marsh's, nothing that really elevates it to the level of greatness.

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/10065739

Judy Astley, "Blowing It"

Judy Astley has been around long enough (or, at least, my father has been reading Judy Astley long enough) for me to remember the white covers with the vague watercolours. Somehow, these seemed more grown-up than the current pastels. Don't judge a book by its cover, though, and I am still very fond of Judy Astley (and not just because she's an Archers Anarchist - I would be an Archers Anarchist, but I stopped listening after they killed off Nigel). This was a fairly standard effort, playing with her usual preoccupations of family, mortality, and the importance of Doing One's Own Thing. (Query: why, when a man writes this sort of thing, does it count as Great Literature, while the same novel written by a woman would be Chick Lit, or at best an Aga Saga?)

I generally enjoyed this, though was a bit bemused by how the children's partners suddenly became much more interesting propositions half-way through the book. U-turn, though I suppose it was all Point of View... I recognised the trials and tribulations of a huge and unkeep-up-able house from my own childhood; found the parents likeable and their children just about tolerable, and winced at the Surrey jokes. (Funny because true, believe me.)

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/10065693