CRUMBS

CRUMBS

In an act of sublime stupidity, this morning I put halves of a fat, flaky biscuit in the toaster. After trying to fish it out with the handle of
a wooden spoon, the thing disintegrated among the wires. This did
seem a bit of a fire hazard so I unplugged and for the first time in
years, cleaned out the toaster.

Crumbs, ancient remnants of bygone breakfasts, went everywhere. The
little clean-out drawer didn't pull easily and then it did. I prodded and
dug again with the wooden handle. I upturned and pounded the sides
setting up a metallic rattling and a shower of crumbs.

I cleaned up the mess around the kitchen sink but didn't do the floor.
(She can get down, but she can't get up!) I re-plugged the toaster
but didn't use. I wonder if I can remember not to do such a dumbo thing again.

The above is a kind of stalling from getting back to reading. Lately, I've been reading romances -- can't-put-down novels with plucky heroines and happy endings. I read authors who include a lot of humor and not too much sex, whose writing is as good and more entertaining as much found in more exalted genres.

In a departure from the above, yesterday, I began "The Poisoned Island," the second novel by Lloyd Shepherd (Washington Square Press. 2013) which begins in Tahiti in 1769 and continues in 1812 Georgian London.  The Solander, a ship commissioned by Sir Joseph Banks and others, has just arrived at Kew from Tahiti with a cargo of precious plant specimens. Among the fashionable crowd to celebrate the event are the Prince Regent, Banks, the adventurer/botanist, and his Scots assistant, Robert Brown. Not far away down the river are John Harriott of the Thames River Police, and his constable, Charles Horton.

Soon after, a seaman just off the Solander, is found with his throat cut and a smile on his face. Horton, who has newfangled theories about police work that consider evidence and motive, finds the body and the investigation begins.

There is a lot to like about this novel, especially the excellent writing. It has a little too much of the paranormal for me, but I'm trying to get beyond that. Some chapters are narrated in the present tense, a tricky device that works here. I haven't read "The English Monster" Shepherd's first novel where the Herrriott/Horton team solve a mystery but not without making important enemies.

Readers will be reminded of the recent "The Signature of All Things" by Elizabeth Gilbert that not only details a strong interest in botany but follows the trail of specimens to Tahiti and then on to Kew. I wonder what the authors make of this coincidence?