I'll Catch You (Jesse Kellerman)

This novel is, in a word, dreadful. In fact, the entire time I was reading it, I wondered if it was the writer's idea of a joke. 

And then, in preparation for my review, I looked up some of the author's inspiration for I'll Catch You: 

"This book started as a joke. I was at work on something much longer and darker, and to relieve some of the mental pressure I started noodling around with an idea that had occurred to me late one night while on tour for The Executor: to write a book that functions simultaneously as a thriller and a parody of a thriller."

Makes sense. But may I suggest that the next time Jesse Kellerman feels the urge to make a joke, he not burden the reading public with it in print form. That's what blogs are for. 

This book is, seriously, a waste of good trees. Simple as that. If you don't believe me, make your decision based on the blurb (which should warn you):

"We want to tell you more about this novel. We wish we could explain how spectacular and absolutely unexpected it is; how it will burn itself onto your brain for ever. But we could never do it justice. The only way you'll understand it is to read it."

Whatever. The bottom line is that if I'd known what it was about, I'd not have read it. Especially not after Kellerman's execrable The Executor. Don't believe me? Well, here's the actual plot:
 
When the world's bestselling writer of spy thrillers, William de Vallée, vanishes from his yacht while sailing, his estranged best friend and (unsuccessful) fellow writer Arthur Pfefferkorn decides to pick up where de Vallée left off - with an unfinished final manuscript and a beautiful widow. But this impulsive decision is about to change his life for ever, as he becomes embroiled in the political intrigues of East and West Zlabia - and learns to speak, think and eat Zlabian.

This book is dire. Sorry.

www.tiffanymarkman.co.za

The Empress of Ice Cream (Anthony Capella)

Available at all good bookstores, courtesy of Penguin Books South Africa, and on www.kalahari.net.

For my money, Anthony Capella is the master of literary deliciousness. Firstly, because he writes books about food. Okay, centred on food. And the people who produce it, eat it and love-make with it. And secondly, because his characters, plots, and colour are utterly yummy. (If a leetle simplistic and one-dimensional.)

In this, his fourth novel, following in the lip-smacking footsteps of The Food of Love, The Wedding Officer and The Various Flavours of Coffee (one of my favourites), Carlo Demirco is the dashing Italian confectioner-to-the-king who rises from nothingness to be vaunted by the French and English courts.

What does he confection? Cream ice. Or rather, ice cream. [There was a bit of Italian-to-English translation confusion, you see, and the term 'ice cream' was born.]

In short, Signor Demirco is the god of creating smooth, sultry, addictive ice cream in fruity, herby and other flavours I'd never even considered, let alone heard of (pippin, rose petal, celery, hibiscus, basil, maidenhair fern, black pepper, fig, cardamom, lavender - yum!), and his icy masterpieces, together with their exquisite and whimsical presentation, become the talk of two royal towns.

Along the way, Carlo meets Louise de Keroualle, an impoverished yet beautiful lady-in-waiting, and the two become friends, enemies and then allies as strangers to England and to the awkward English way of doing things. This is when the novel becomes largely Philippa Gregory-ish in its orientation... And this is when I really start to enjoy it. Because there's only so much ice cream I can dream about.

[The novel is narrated in the first person by both Carlo and Louise - not a beloved device of mine. But it works in this story. Especially since Louise is a lot like Mary Boleyn in The Other Boleyn Girl...]

So, if you're into novels focused on food, and you like historical fiction, and you're not looking for complexity, disturbia or major drama, get yourself a bowl, a spoon and this book. Bon appetit.

www.tiffanymarkman

Free Food for Millionaires (Min Jin Lee)

Available at Exclusive Books and all good bookstores.

As I've said before, I'm not a book buyer. Reviewers (and Kindle owners) seldom are. But this book was on sale. And the title intrigued me. So I did what we're never supposed to do, and I bought it largely based on the cover. Lucky me.

Free Food for Millionaires has been positioned as a potential 'Great American Novel' which is, um, a little out there - but it is a super read. Have a go at the first bit of the blurb, and you'll see what I mean:

"Casey Han's years at Princeton have given her 'a refined diction, an enviable golf handicap, wealthy friends, a popular white boyfriend, and a magna cum laude degree in economics'. But no job, and a number of bad habits."

And it gets better from there. Casey Han is fabulous - a gal with a designer lifestyle she can't possibly afford, a knack for choosing the right friends and the wrong men, and a spectacular taste in and addiction to beautiful hats. Hats?! I ask you.

She's also trying to make it in high finance, from the bottom up, while dragging behind her all of the fundamental crises of immigrants' children, class struggle, social status and, yes, love.

All this, against the backdrop of Nineties New York. Read it.

P.S. I realise that the hats and clothing and man drama collaborate to make this book sound alarmingly like chick lit, which I unreservedly and unapologetically despise, but I promise it isn't. Vaguely. Even a little bit.

www.tiffanymarkman.co.za