Blistering Blazers!

I’m caught up in something of a moral dilemma. I am genuinely unsure what to do.

So I figure the best thing to do in the circumstances is put everything here, thus expunging myself of any of the moral decisions because I will have said all I need to say and can cherry pick what it would be best to use at the appropriate time.

Basically, it boils down to this. I am reading a book at the moment – rare, I know – which is written by an author who follows my reviews on Good Reads and, in fact, sent a friends request a while ago which I finally got around to accepting. I had a look at her profile and saw her book – a book which fits neatly into the “Dan Brown has a lot to answer for” category I have mentioned previously, being one of derring-do and hunting for lost relics and/or civilisations. I like these books. But some are dross. And some are not.

I should say she has not asked me to review it, I have not been given it to review. I am just reading it because it fit in with my likes and I am reviewing it because I feel I should try and write something about everything I read this year. Which will, of course, be 100 books. Even though I am about ten behind already.

This book is ok. But then it isn’t. The story is moving on apace, although not a whole heap of much has happened, really. But it’s a nice read, and it’s flowing and the pages are definitely turning. Which is more than happened with that one that took the better part of a month to read.

But the dialogue is crap. Like stereotypically British but in a bad way crap. “Blistering Blazers” is a common occurrence. Because everyone says that. It’s like a lexicon of every phrase non-British people think British people say on a regular basis, and it’s kind of turned the whole thing into a bit of a farce. I can feel myself cringing when I read some of.it because it’s just so bad. There’s a lot of fiddlesticks – although spelling it as fiddlestix, which doesn’t seem right.

There’s been no “tally-ho!” or “Pip pip!” yet though, which saddens me.

And that’s when it’s not like some sort of pseudo-Lara Croft teenage girl fan fiction stuff.

But I am enjoying the story. I’ve got to a point of it where I’m prepared to be not at all surprised by the hugely obvious plot twist that has been telegraphed for quite a considerable portion of the book (and if it doesn’t happen, I’ll be sadly disappointed). I am definitely there with it. It’s just possibly the most cringeworthy thing I’ve read for a long time.

Maybe I’ll just put all that in my review.

And then the word “sorry.”