Next book

GARY JENNINGS’ AZTEC RAGE

If the Aztecs are enraged, it’s because one of them read this improbable mess.

Answer “no” immediately if someone asks, “Would you like to know . . . about the men I have killed, the women I have loved, the fortunes I have made . . . and stolen?”

There’s a certain misguided bravado to opening a historical novel with the hoary equivalent of a movie voiceover, compounded by the fact that the voiceover is voiced by a wannabe Zorro—or maybe the Cisco Kid. Don Juan de Zavala, though a Spaniard in Mexico, finds that the other Spaniards in Mexico just plain don’t like him. Narrowly avoiding the priesthood by virtue of an unfortunate incident—“I horsewhipped a fellow seminarian who branded me a sodomite after I described my lurid deflowering of a servant girl”—the resonantly named Don Juan becomes a champion of sword-and-dagger action, leading a revolt against the oppressive gachupines on behalf of the noble indios and criollo rebels who have decided that Don Juan is a pretty good guy, even though he’s foppish and educated and all that, because he’s a tad on the dark side and was called El Azteca Chico, the Little Aztec, as a lad, and because he's good in a fight. You can guess what Don Juan learns about why he’s thus complected, but no matter; he’s already torn off across the sea to sign up for action in the Napoleonic Wars, but not before having a minor epiphany or two: “Immersion in the ancient indio culture was slowly transforming me.” Creaky plot points and sneering villains notwithstanding, though, this franchised novel (“Gary Jennings’ Aztec Rage”) is soft porn wrapped in swashbuckling garb, and Zavala is frequently seen unbuckling his swash and piercing the waiting maids and maidens of New and Old Spain with various body parts, all in prose guaranteed to thrill the 13-year-old boy who stumbles upon this book at a garage sale.

If the Aztecs are enraged, it’s because one of them read this improbable mess.

Pub Date: May 16, 2006

ISBN: 0-765-31014-7

Page Count: 432

Publisher: Forge

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 15, 2006

Categories:
Next book

TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD

A first novel, this is also a first person account of Scout's (Jean Louise) recall of the years that led to the ending of a mystery, the breaking of her brother Jem's elbow, the death of her father's enemy — and the close of childhood years. A widower, Atticus raises his children with legal dispassion and paternal intelligence, and is ably abetted by Calpurnia, the colored cook, while the Alabama town of Maycomb, in the 1930's, remains aloof to their divergence from its tribal patterns. Scout and Jem, with their summer-time companion, Dill, find their paths free from interference — but not from dangers; their curiosity about the imprisoned Boo, whose miserable past is incorporated in their play, results in a tentative friendliness; their fears of Atticus' lack of distinction is dissipated when he shoots a mad dog; his defense of a Negro accused of raping a white girl, Mayella Ewell, is followed with avid interest and turns the rabble whites against him. Scout is the means of averting an attack on Atticus but when he loses the case it is Boo who saves Jem and Scout by killing Mayella's father when he attempts to murder them. The shadows of a beginning for black-white understanding, the persistent fight that Scout carries on against school, Jem's emergence into adulthood, Calpurnia's quiet power, and all the incidents touching on the children's "growing outward" have an attractive starchiness that keeps this southern picture pert and provocative. There is much advance interest in this book; it has been selected by the Literary Guild and Reader's Digest; it should win many friends.

Pub Date: July 11, 1960

ISBN: 0060935464

Page Count: 323

Publisher: Lippincott

Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1960

Categories:
Next book

DISTANT SHORES

Soft-focus story moves right along with few surprises. This time around, Hannah avoids the soap-opera complications of her...

Another middle-aged mom in a muddle.

After years of false starts and big hopes, Elizabeth’s ruggedly handsome husband Jack, a former football star, just landed a spot as a sportscaster on national news. He still loves her, even though much younger women are giving him come-hither looks. Heck, he doesn’t want to betray the love of his life after she helped him kick drugs and stuck by him even when he was a struggling has-been. And won’t it seem hypocritical if he fools around with his sexy assistant while he does in-depth reporting on a rape case involving a famous basketball center? Well, he fools around anyway. Elizabeth, nicknamed Birdie, knows nothing of this, but she withdraws from Jack when her hard-drinking, salt-of-the-earth father has a stroke and dies. Now no one will call her “sugar beet” ever again. Time to return home to Tennessee and contend with Anita, the sort-of-evil stepmother so trashy she wears pink puffy slippers all day long. Naturally, it turns out that Anita actually has a heart of gold and knows a few things about Birdie’s dead mother that were hushed up for years. Mom was an artist, just like Birdie, and an old scandal comes to light as Anita unrolls a vibrant canvas that portrays her secret lover. Perhaps, Birdie muses, her mother died of heartbreak, never having followed her true love or developed her talent. Has she, too, compromised everything she holds dear? Hoping to find out, Birdie joins a support group that promises to reconnect confused women with their passion. She and Jack separate, prompting a how-dare-you fit from their grown daughters. Will Birdie fly her empty nest? Will she go back to college for a degree in art? Will her brooding watercolors ever sell?

Soft-focus story moves right along with few surprises. This time around, Hannah avoids the soap-opera complications of her previous tales (Summer Island, 2001, etc.).

Pub Date: July 1, 2002

ISBN: 0-345-45071-X

Page Count: 352

Publisher: Ballantine

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2002

Categories:
Close Quickview