Christian Rummel delivers Washington Irving’s words at a fast pace, just shy of being hurried and, with a nod of inflection here and there. The narration ignores the tenor of some key scenes, draining the story of tension. Audible.com is marketing this short story as children’s fare, which could have informed the narrator’s choices; but it is unfortunate that those choices condescend to children rather than expose them to a great story’s timbre and texture.
Other Stuff: “Rip Van Winkle” is a free dnload for members at audible.com
The writing in this novel is rich with metaphor. Long discursive passages captivate the listener, evoking strong imagery of places, of people, moods, even dreams. Sentences wander back and forth between the real and the imagined, the present and the past, creating a hypnotic rhythm that ensnares the listener in a story that is equally enthralling and disturbing, beautiful and horrifying. It’s unrelenting brutality finally starts to break a little more than halfway through the book, giving cause for accusations that the writer is pulling punches; but A Quiet Belief in Angels is such a taut psychological thriller that the relief is needed in order to continue. That said, the final passages are anti-climatic in that it doesn’t feel like the true ending; but rather one that finally lets the reader off the hook.
This book qualifies for the Where Are You Reading? Challenge hosted by Sheila at her blog, Book Journey. A Quiet Belief in Angels is set in Augusta Falls, Georgia.
Flashback Friday: The Shoes – http://ow.ly/4OAGE
There are days, days when modern technology defeats me, my husband buys an ugly green couch behind my back, other parents seem to think their kids are some sort of entry in a life contest, the book I’m reading is quickly heading for the DNF pile… or, for the purposes of this story, you get stood up on a virtual movie date. Last October, there was supposed to be a live tweet-up of The Amityville Horror (directed by Stuart Rosenberg; starring Josh Brolin, Margot Kidder and Rod Steiger.) For whatever reason it didn’t happen. So, left to my own devices, iPhone and third party twitter app in hand, I went out to dinner with my husband to an Italian restaurant. To be honest, the restaurant wasn’t that good; but the bar served mongo drinks, drinks with presence. I actually don’t remember the particulars of the drink I tried, except that I’m pretty sure it involved vodka, pomegranate juice and some other high sugar-content mixers that would ensure maximum alcohol saturation. I think I had two of these cocktails (I wasn’t driving – because my husband was with me and for some reason he always drives – like somehow my mundane ability to parallel park is thwarted in the face of his Kryptonite-mad driving skillz… but I digress.) Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t driving and I was drinking and I wasn’t watching a really bad horror flick from thirty years ago and even though I had had a couple of most excellent cocktails, I was still feeling vaguely dissatisfied. My husband and I went home and it was still early enough that we weren’t going to bed; but late enough we weren’t going start a movie. So that left me with the internet. And I went shoe shopping. And this is what I got:
Hosted by Sheila at her blog, Book Journey