Friday, March 06, 2009
bones to ashes by Kathy Reichs .
This thriller has 435 pages and the author's day job is a forensic anthropologist. This novel is written in the first person and involves a character called Doctor Temperance Brennan, whose job, just like the author's is a forensic anthropologist. This is the tenth novel that Kathy Reichs has written featuring Temperance Brennan but the reader does not need to have read any of the others because the stories are stand-alone. The beauty of Kathy's writing is that everything is explained for the layman, you do not need to be an expert in any field. Temperance explains what she is doing with her special forensic skills and continues to explain the work of experts in other fields that are used to solve the mystery. I was surprised to learn from this book book that there are 206 bones in the human body and just how much can be learned when the Police find a body.
This story has a good pace and plot. The joy of this book is the attention to detail which makes it such an enjoyable read. The bulk of this book involves forensic and investigative Police work but there is also some social commentary, raw emotion and workplace humour.
An example of social commentary can be found on page 108...
"And you can double that for kids. The families of missing and murdered kids live in agony. Every year that anniversary rolls around, the day the kid disappeared or the body was found. Every Christmas. Every time the kid's birthday pops up on the calendar. A dead kid's just one big ugly wound that refuses to heal." Hippo's eyes met mine. "The guilt eats at 'em. What happened? Why? Why weren't we there to save her? That kinda hell don't ever go cold."
An example of raw emotion can be found on page 319...
The video had been shot with a single handheld camera. There was no sound.
The setting is a room done in roach-motel cheap. The side table is wood-grain plastic. The double bed is plaid-quilted. A shadow hairlines from a nail on the wall above the headboard.
Normally my mind would have played with that. What had been removed? Terrible mass-market art? A print of beer-drinking dogs playing cards? Something fingering the motel's name or location?
No speculation this time. All my senses were focused on the horror center stage.
A girl lies on the bed. She is pale and has cornsilk hair. Bows double-loop from the ends of her pigtails.
My breath stopped in my throat.
The girl is naked. She can be no more than eight years old.
Rising onto her elbows, the girl turns her face toward something off camera. Her eyes sweep past the lens. The pupils are caverns, the gaze unfocused.
The girl lifts her chin, tracking someone's approach. A shadow crawls onto her body.
The girl shakes her head no and lowers her lids. A hand comes into frame and presses her chest. The girl drops back and closes her eyes. The shadow moves down her torso.
Opposing reflexes shot through my nerves.
Turn away!
Stay! Help the little girl!
I kept my eyes glued to the monitor.
A man moves into frame. His naked back is to the camera. His hair is black, bound at the nape of his neck. Ugly red zits speckle his buttocks. Around them, the skin is the color of pus.
My fingers sought each other, clenched hard. I felt dizzy, anticipating the nightmare that was about to play out.
The man takes the child's wrists and raises her frail little arms. Her nipples are dots on the curvy shadows defining her rib cage.
I looked down. My nails had carved crescents into the backs of my hands. Drawing two steadying breaths, I refocused on the monitor.
The girl has been turned. She lies prone, helpless and mute. The man has climbed onto the bed. He is on his knees. He moves to straddle her.
Shooting to my feet, I bolted from the room. No conscious thought. Limbic impulse straight to motor neurons.
Footsteps echoed mine. I didn't look back.
An example of workplace humour can be found on page 433...
"You know Hippo, the bogeyman's not always hanging out in the school yard or at the bus depot. He can be the guy in your parlor hogging the remote."
The final chapter of this book, number 41 runs from page 426 to 435 and nicely rounds everything off. This story is drawn to a tidy close and everything in the plot is revealed and accounted for. I cannot find a fault with this excellent book and I vote it a HIT. I will be happy to buy another of Kathy's books because of the quality and detail of her writing.
This thriller has 435 pages and the author's day job is a forensic anthropologist. This novel is written in the first person and involves a character called Doctor Temperance Brennan, whose job, just like the author's is a forensic anthropologist. This is the tenth novel that Kathy Reichs has written featuring Temperance Brennan but the reader does not need to have read any of the others because the stories are stand-alone. The beauty of Kathy's writing is that everything is explained for the layman, you do not need to be an expert in any field. Temperance explains what she is doing with her special forensic skills and continues to explain the work of experts in other fields that are used to solve the mystery. I was surprised to learn from this book book that there are 206 bones in the human body and just how much can be learned when the Police find a body.
This story has a good pace and plot. The joy of this book is the attention to detail which makes it such an enjoyable read. The bulk of this book involves forensic and investigative Police work but there is also some social commentary, raw emotion and workplace humour.
An example of social commentary can be found on page 108...
"And you can double that for kids. The families of missing and murdered kids live in agony. Every year that anniversary rolls around, the day the kid disappeared or the body was found. Every Christmas. Every time the kid's birthday pops up on the calendar. A dead kid's just one big ugly wound that refuses to heal." Hippo's eyes met mine. "The guilt eats at 'em. What happened? Why? Why weren't we there to save her? That kinda hell don't ever go cold."
An example of raw emotion can be found on page 319...
The video had been shot with a single handheld camera. There was no sound.
The setting is a room done in roach-motel cheap. The side table is wood-grain plastic. The double bed is plaid-quilted. A shadow hairlines from a nail on the wall above the headboard.
Normally my mind would have played with that. What had been removed? Terrible mass-market art? A print of beer-drinking dogs playing cards? Something fingering the motel's name or location?
No speculation this time. All my senses were focused on the horror center stage.
A girl lies on the bed. She is pale and has cornsilk hair. Bows double-loop from the ends of her pigtails.
My breath stopped in my throat.
The girl is naked. She can be no more than eight years old.
Rising onto her elbows, the girl turns her face toward something off camera. Her eyes sweep past the lens. The pupils are caverns, the gaze unfocused.
The girl lifts her chin, tracking someone's approach. A shadow crawls onto her body.
The girl shakes her head no and lowers her lids. A hand comes into frame and presses her chest. The girl drops back and closes her eyes. The shadow moves down her torso.
Opposing reflexes shot through my nerves.
Turn away!
Stay! Help the little girl!
I kept my eyes glued to the monitor.
A man moves into frame. His naked back is to the camera. His hair is black, bound at the nape of his neck. Ugly red zits speckle his buttocks. Around them, the skin is the color of pus.
My fingers sought each other, clenched hard. I felt dizzy, anticipating the nightmare that was about to play out.
The man takes the child's wrists and raises her frail little arms. Her nipples are dots on the curvy shadows defining her rib cage.
I looked down. My nails had carved crescents into the backs of my hands. Drawing two steadying breaths, I refocused on the monitor.
The girl has been turned. She lies prone, helpless and mute. The man has climbed onto the bed. He is on his knees. He moves to straddle her.
Shooting to my feet, I bolted from the room. No conscious thought. Limbic impulse straight to motor neurons.
Footsteps echoed mine. I didn't look back.
An example of workplace humour can be found on page 433...
"You know Hippo, the bogeyman's not always hanging out in the school yard or at the bus depot. He can be the guy in your parlor hogging the remote."
The final chapter of this book, number 41 runs from page 426 to 435 and nicely rounds everything off. This story is drawn to a tidy close and everything in the plot is revealed and accounted for. I cannot find a fault with this excellent book and I vote it a HIT. I will be happy to buy another of Kathy's books because of the quality and detail of her writing.
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