The Angel of Darkness by Caleb Carr

Okay, so The Angel of Darkness by Caleb Carr was a bit of a side quest for me. This is ordinarily not the type of novel that I'd read, but a copy showed up at my local book swap, and I was intrigued because I'd heard so much about The Alienist. And, while this is clearly book two in a series, I didn't feel too out of my depth, and I'm sufficiently intrigued to go pick up book one should I cross paths with it.

Set in New York during the late 1800s, this story is told from the perspective of the delightfully disreputable Stevie Taggart, a chain-smoking kid saved from a life of crime by Dr Laszlo Kreizler, a psychiatrist known for his (at the time) unconventional methods of understanding how people's minds work. Accompanied by friends such as journalist John Schuyler Moore, private investigator Sara Howard, and police detectives Marcus and Lucius Isaacson, and the enigmatic Cyrus Montrose, Kreizler is off on an adventure to find a missing child. But nothing is as simple as that, when they realise their work is far more dangerous and darker than initially expected.

Look, I really don't want to spoil the plot by giving too much away, so I'm going to focus on what I loved – which was the teamwork and the camaraderie between characters. Everyone brings something special to the table, and we have moments of humour interspersed with the serious business of solving a mystery. What becomes immediately apparent is that Carr knows his stuff in terms the setting, and he really makes New York City come alive for me in vivid Technicolor. So I really did feel authentically immersed in the period. (A huge plus point for anyone who wants a bit of a field trip into the past.)

That being said, I did feel that the novel plodded on a bit too long – part mystery, part court-room drama, but even though it felt like a slog at times, I was so invested in the characters, that I was genuinely sad to let them go when I reached the end. Carr's writing style is engaging, and he treats often problematic subject matter with great sensitivity. And yeah, there's some stuff here that shows the not-so-nice side of a big city that I've never seen so frankly examined.

I did feel as if the plot wrapped in a way that I could almost see coming, but it was still fun, and there were elements that were truly tragic. I really do need to go pick up The Alienist now, but if you like me, haven't read it either, although there will be stuff referenced in The Angel of Darkness that you won't have context for, it won't be a dealbreaker for following what's happening in book two.

Crocodile on the Sandbank (Amelia Peabody #1) by Elizabeth Peters

I bless the person who told me about the Amelia Peabody mysteries written by Elizabeth Peters, the pen name of Barbara Mertz, whose delightful non-fiction accounts of ancient Egypt have so enthralled me. So it was with this knowledge that I went into Crocodile on a Sandbank (the first in the series). I was not disappointed. 

Amelia is a woman who knows her own mind. Her father, somewhat of a scholar, indulged her when she grew up – hence as a spinster, she's not at all interested in the traditional roles expected for a woman of her standing during the late nineteenth century. Not only does she know her own mind, but she also is a woman of independent means, and she decides to see the world after her father's passing leaves her well off.

After she crosses paths with the unfortunate, disgraced Evelyn, and after saving her from certain death, has Evelyn accompany her to Egypt. Here they bump into two Egyptologist brothers – Radcliffe and Walter – who are busy excavating in Tell el-Amarna. 

Look, I'm not going to spoil a story where obviously many hijinks ensue. Mertz writes with great wit and humour, and her love and understanding of ancient Egypt and the early days of Egyptology shine through. There are 20 novels in this series, so I'm confident that I have many wonderful hours ahead of me. This edition was narrated by Barbara Rosenblat, who delivers the narrative with much vivacity – so much so that it feels as if the characters leapt off the pages and took up residence in my imagination rent free.

In fact, it's a sin that we don't have a TV series based on Mertz's writing yet. There is so much fodder here for an excellent adaption. But then again, perhaps it is better that the stories don't make it to the screen. Crocodile on a Sandbank captures the essence of an era, with a ring of authenticity that does rather illustrate the casual jingoism of the time. (Which may annoy some.)

Amelia Peabody, however, is a delight, in an era where women traditionally did not have agency. Her gleeful disregard of societal norms had me giggling throughout, and what rudimentary knowledge I possess of Egyptology meant that I had a solid understanding of the setting and some of the societal dynamics. I'm looking forward to the titles that follow.