Set in Oliver Cromwell's England in the year following the beheading of Charles II, this novel draws on a number of intriguing historical facts and legal cases. It opens as legal investigator Bartwain prepares an indictment against spinster Rachel Lockyer, charged under a new law that demands the execution of any woman found guilty of secretly disposing of her bastard infant, whether the child had been born alive or dead. Rachel, an apprentice glovemaker, had become entangled in a passionate affair with William Walwyn, a married Leveller and father of fourteen who pens pamphlets against the Puritan leaders and their rigid, merciless laws. There are several surprising twists in the plot (not to be revealed here), some of them based on intriguing facts that are outlined in the epilogue.

While much of the novel details the affair, the investigation, and the trial, Brown also questions the religious intolerance, misogyny, harsh prison conditions, and class divisions in Cromwell's Commonwealth, and she paints a disturbing picture of the paranoia such a society engenders. As a reader, however, I sensed that the author had perhaps taken on a theme or two too many. Still, it is worth reading for a view of a historical period not often covered in fiction and for the relationships among the female characters.

Johnson takes us inside a country that most of us know little about: contemporary North Korea. We're all familiar with the soundbites from the news that describe a monomaniacal dictator who places personal power above the welfare of his people. But Johnson shows what it must be like to live--no, SURVIVE--within the justified paranoia engendered in such a place. The sweeping plot follows the titular protagonist, Jun Do, through his rise in the ranks by both dedication and devious means. It's a thriller, a mystery, a love story; there's something here for everyone. What will stay with me most after reading this novel is the sense of what it must be like to live with gut-wrenching fear on a day-to-day basis. To feel that no one can be trusted; to feel that you're constantly under scrutiny; to feel afraid to love, to hope, to dream--all of the things that make us human. This is a complex book, but one definitely worth the effort.

I love historical fiction but am not a big fan of mysteries, so I wasn't sure how well I would like 'The Tudor Secret.' Overall, it was a fast and fun read, but the novel has many flaws that make it less enjoyable than it might otherwise be. The pacing was uneven, the narrative often repetitious, and Brendan's quick admittance into high circles was unbelievable. For example, the same day he arrives at court, having just been raised from his position as stable boy to valet, he strolls the garden alone with Princess Elizabeth. It just wouldn't happen. I also found the love affair weak: once minute Kate treats Brendan like a foolish boy and the next they are romping in bed. Worst of all for me was the two-layered "secret" as to why Brendan's parentage had been hidden. I know that it's fiction, but even fiction has to seem like it could be true. Neither what Cecil tells Brendan nor what he intuits for himself could ever have happened. (I can't say why without giving away the plot, but trust me, a scholar of the period: it just wouldn't have happened.) This wasn't a terrible book, just nothing I'd recommend to anyone who knows a bit about the period.

While this isn't a novel that I can rave about, I did enjoy it and recommend it as a quick and light summer read. One of its strong points is Wallace's fine development of atmosphere. There's a dreamy, sensual quality about her descriptions that perfectly fits the story of a young contessa adapting to losing her eyesight and dreaming her way back to beloved familiar places and exciting new places that she will never see in person. The reader can see the beauty of the contessa's lake and and smell her lush gardens, hear the sad music of the cello and the joyful song of her caged bird, feel the heat of the candle wax and the thick velvet of her robe. The romance is satisfying without going over the top.

If I could change one thing about this book, it would be the title, which probably won't catch the attention of readers who would potentially enjoy the novel. "The Blind Contessa" suggests an older woman, not a vibrant young bride; and "the new machine" plays only a secondary (yet important) role and doesn't appear until the last third of the book. This is NOT the story of the invention of the typewriter!

About 250 fifty pages into this 400-page book, I asked myself, "Who is romancing Miss Bronte?" At this point, Arthur Bell Nicholls had JUST admitted to himself his attraction to Charlotte but had not spoken of his feelings, so I could only conclude that it was the author, Juliet Gael, who was "romancing" her in a different way, by trying to turn her into a romanticized heroine admirable not for her beauty but for other, more endearing qualities. The real romance is Charlotte's life: her endurance in spite of personal and professional rejections, her devotion to a demanding family, the sacrificing of her own needs and desires to fulfill those of others. and her dedication to her own work. The book, then, is not quite what the title suggests--which is probably a good thing in my case, since I am not a reader of conventional romance novels. Although the writing does get bogged down in unnecessary details at times, overall, Gael creates a lively portrait of one of the great women writers of the 18th century. The inclusion of a number of the literati of the day (Lewes, Thackeray, etc.) and their reception of both Bronte and her successful novel Jane Eyre make for interesting reading. The complex relationships among the Bronte sisters is also carefully and believably drawn.

I found this book unenjoyable and very difficult to finish, mainly because the author seems to parade his extensive research at the expense of a good story. It wasn't so much the use of expressions in multiple languages, but more the stream of minute details about Jewish culture, history, and religion that bogged me down. I'm an academic myself (and my field is the 16th century, which is why I selected this book), but when I read historical fiction, my first criteria is that a book has to give me pleasure. I love to learn from well-researched fiction, but I don't want to be beaten into boredom by an author's research. This book might have more appeal to readers with a particular interest in Jewish history and Talmudic law; but I found the mystery thin and the characters rather weak.

In the hands of a lesser writer, this relatively long book could become tedious. For example, it takes nearly 100 pages for the twins to get born, because Vergehese keeps shifting the point of view among six or seven characters. But he creates each one as a unique individual with a fascinating back story and makes you care about them all. This is a sprawling story, but one that keeps the reader captivated throughout. Yes, Verghese uses his medical background (sometimes a bit too extensively; several episodes seem unnecessarily long and complex for the average reader), but his focus is on the relationships between family, friends, and coworkers.

I had a particular interest in this book because I have sponsored two children from Ethiopia, and I appreciated learning more about the country, its people, and their plight.

Highly recommended.

An imaginative, touching book about love, the longing for family, and the search for identity. Both Ida and May are caught among racial identities (African, Chinese, Caucasian) in the changing Jamaica of the 1960s and beyond. The author portrays perfectly the prickly relationship between mother and daughter, especially Ida's need to protect May. Cezair-Thompson writes beautifully, and she clearly has a mastery of Jamaican dialect and customs. I highly recommend this wonderful novel.