Quality 5.0 / 5.0 (highly recommended)
Gay Inclusive? Slightly – One mention of a minor gay character
Gay positive? Very – I love how the gay content is handled

Unusually, in this case I think the sequel outdoes the first book, though it’s close. The sheer creativity, wit and cleverness in this book combined with the engaging writing style make this a pleasure to read.

The novel is a mystery or crime drama, set in an alternate reality where Dodos have been re-created and people travel internationally by means of Gravitubes that go through the center of the earth. A branch of the government deals specifically in time-travel-related crimes.

And, most importantly, books have their own reality, and it’s possible for characters from, say, “Great Expectations” to enter the “real” world of the novel, and for the protagonist Thursday Next to travel into works like “Jane Eyre” or Poe’s “The Raven.” Hence Miss Havisham from “Great Expectations” is actually a major character in Fforde’s novel.

Someone is trying to kill protagonist Thursday Next by using coincidences. Yes, you read right. Death by coincidence. Fforde injects a lot of tongue-in-cheek humor into his work, and there are several laugh-out-loud moments along the way.

The main weakness to the novel is the pacing and plotting – what is ostensibly the main plot seems to take a backseat to the many subplots, so it sometimes feels like the story is just drifting. I enjoyed reading this novel, but I didn’t find myself reading it breakfast, lunch, and dinner as I do when a book is totally gripping. Still, this is a minor complaint on my part, given that the characters are likable, the humor agreeable, and the ideas engaging, and I award the novel high scores in the “Quality” category.

As to the gay stuff…. the author mentions once that the Thursday’s brother (named Joffy, a minister in the Global Standard Deity Church) is gay, including a reference to Joffy’s boyfriend. The scene is a delightful riff, as Joffy and his boyfriend must keep their relationship secret because the boyfriend’s employer looks down on its employees associating with… clergymen. This is the only gay content in the whole book (hence the very low rating in that category), but I love the way it’s handled, so I give it full marks on the positivity scale.

Overall 3.5 / 5.0 (promising but fails to deliver a high-impact story)
Gay Inclusive? Very – protagonist is gay, and the mystery takes him into London’s 18th Century gay underworld
Gay Positive? Mostly – the era is definitely not gay positive, but the author’s treatment of the gay content is.

Set in 1757, Lord John Grey is the head of his family’s household until his elder brother Hal returns from a military appointment abroad. As a result, Grey has some responsibility to protect his cousin Olivia, who is engaged to marry well-to-do merchant Joseph Trevelyan, whom Grey believes to be “poxed” with syphilis. At that time in history, syphilis occupied the role HIV/AIDS does today. Worse, in fact: it was incurable, and contracting the illness virtually guaranteed the most unpleasant sort of death.

Meanwhile, another mystery erupts: it appears that vital British state secrets have been lost and might be sold to the French. Grey is tasked with investigating the crime to figure out what happened, who was involved and how to recover the lost secrets before it’s too late.

I enjoyed reading a gay-inclusive mystery set in a period of time about which I know little. Author Diana Gabaldon has done her research (in fact, she is well-known for her historical research), and I learned quite a bit about the history of gay people in Georgian England. She also includes a list of resources for anyone who wants to dig deeper and learn more.

The mystery is mildly interesting, but unfortunately fails to captivate. I was never sufficiently invested in the characters or events such that the story’s twists would have me on the edge of my seat.

Although generally sympathetic, the main character never comes alive. Apparently Lord John is supposed to be young and handsome, but he reads like he’s 60. Whenever his handsomeness was mentioned, it was always kind of jarring, because I had forgotten he was supposed to be young and winsome. That indicates a characterization disconnect.

Lord John is a secondary character from Gabaldon’s better know Outlander series (which I have never read). Reviewer Susan Scribner of TheRomanceReader.com comments,

I like Lord John throughout the Outlander series he has always come across as sympathetic, complex and slightly tormented, but this story doesn’t shed much new light on his core character. He’s always been a bit of an enigma, and he remains elusive.

That’s problematic when Grey is at the center of the story and occupies nearly every page of the tale. Considering Gabaldon’s exquisite attention to historical detail, I would expect a multilayered character of depth and unexpected internal contradictions. Instead, we find someone who is genteel and devoted to duty, and that’s about it. Even his gayness, which he must keep secret given the social mores of the time period, fails to render him more than mildly interesting.

At the same time, the story hints at repressed passions and an undercurrent of powerful emotions. Perhaps future stories will allow Lord John to unfold more fully as a human being caught in multiple traps: the repressive social standards of the era, the excruciating necessity of maintaining a pristine image in his social class and the painful denial of a loving, committed relationship.

In fact, I was dying for Grey to get some action! I hoped his new valet, Tom Byrd, would develop a requited attraction to his master. But no. Nothing. The most important romance in the novel – which the reader doesn’t really delve into until the end – is heterosexual.

On the whole, I find this book to be promising, but little else. I hope that Gabaldon grows into this genre, and that future volumes chronicling Lord John Grey do him justice.

Yawn. The first book in the Simon Kirby-Jones mystery series, “Posted to Death” (2002) was a cute, mild mystery. The follow-up “Faked to Death” is plain boring.

In the story, Simon finds himself at a writer’s conference involving more than its fair share of scheming. In fact, the most obvious chicanery affects him directly: Simon is an author who writes under a couple of pen names, including Dorinda Darlington. To his surprise, a “Dorinda Darlington” shows up to participate in the conference, only to wind up murdered. Our hero Simon must unravel the web of deceit and blackmail to uncover the truth.

The only point of interest in the story that kept my attention was the sexual and romantic tension between Simon and his assistant, the young and hunky Giles Blitherington, who has a massive crush on his employer. Simon recognizes Giles’ appeal but feels discretion is the better part of valor, at least for the moment. Particularly given that Simon is a vampire, and he’s not sure how Giles will react to that news.

But he’s a vampire the way a castrato is a man. Simon takes pills which eliminates his need to feed on blood and weakness to sunlight but also eliminates his ability to change shape or move with preternatural speed. In fact, his vampiricism affects the story in only one respect: he doesn’t want to be shot because he doesn’t want to have to explain why there would be no blood and why he wouldn’t die. In fact, I think the story would have been much more interesting, edgier, if Simon had more traditional vampiric characteristics. But then, maybe it wouldn’t be a “cozy,” a sub-genre of mystery that emphasizes light-heartedness and little-to-no violence.

This book shares one weakness with its predecessor. It’s set in England, and most of the characters are English, but the protagonist Simon and another character (Ashford Dunn) are American. But they still talk like Britons. For example, Ashford using the word “potty” at one point to describe someone as crazy or loony. “Potty” is not American slang, and I found it distracting that the American characters don’t sound American to me.

On the positive side, the reader will find no gay angst or other negative gay portrayals here. A few of the secondary characters evince some anti-gay attitudes through a thinly veiled comment here and there, but they’re very minor points.

See also:

James, Dean. “Posted to Death” (2002)

“Bourbon Street Blues” is a cute, light, and entertaining mystery worthy of the beach. The protagonist Scotty is nearly thirty but still just wants to have a good time. Laissez les bon temps roulez! But when a sorta friend of his turns up dead on his doorstep, and he finds a mysterious computer disk in his shoe (at one point, he even carries a whole cell phone in his shoe – one of several minor points that stretch credulity), Scotty finds himself embroiled in a much larger plot. Add into the mix that Scotty is psychic, a gift from the “Goddess,” and we have an offbeat mystery.

The plot is stretched thin, and the author seems more interested in details about the characters’ bodies than in fleshing out their personalities or backgrounds. I am well aware of exactly how beautiful (or not beautiful) each character is. I am less sure of what makes them tick.

And although the author tries very hard to conjure the feeling of New Orleans for the reader, I never really felt immersed in that world. Herren incorporates some otherworldliness into the story with Scotty’s visions and Tarot cards, but the author never delves into the city’s history and reputation for voodoo, hauntings, etc. As a result, he misses a great opportunity to add atmosphere to the story.

Nevertheless, I liked the book as an easy, quick vacation read. Its characters engaged me just enough that I’ll check out the inevitable sequels.

I liked the fact that the novel and its protagonist are very gay-positive. Though it’s never quoted, I nevertheless hear the slogan, “We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it.” When I score a book or movie for its gay positivity, I ask, “Are the gay characters down on themselves?” Not at all in this book.

I also ask, “Are these characters good role-models? Would I want these people in my life?” I hesitate here. The protagonist is smart, clever, and charming. He’s also, by his own admission, a promiscuous tramp. Other characters are frequent drug users and/or drinkers. Realistic? More so than I like to admit. Gay positive? Er, well, um, I like that Scotty is unapologetic about his sexuality.

The plot centers around a militant Christian running for governor of Louisiana. He believes New Orleans is a modern day Sodom, and he’s concocted a fiendish plan to “cleanse” the city of its sinners. It’s interesting that the characters portrayed are those who most aptly fit this guy’s vision of gay life: a superficial, self-destructive, and eternally adolescent culture that revolves around youth, beauty, sex, drugs, and alcohol.

Absent are the gay people who more closely embody most of middle America. And yet, even those guys can easily descend into the stereotypical culture when they let loose for a party like Southern Decadence. I don’t mean to suggest Herren’s portrayal of the gay characters is off-base or unrealistic (although it’s definitely not comprehensive, but no single book could be). That’s also not the question. Is it a positive portrayal?

Despite being a light, vaguely trashy read, the juxtaposition of a crazy right-winger with the exact element of gay culture he decries suggests deeper questions. The obvious theme of the novel is to live and let live. It’s not his place to judge the lives of these gay characters. So I shouldn’t either. And is that what I’m doing when I score down on the gay positivity because I don’t like the way they live their lives? There are all kinds of people, and I believe every person has the right to live their life as they best see fit. Diversity is the engine of spiritual evolution.

But here it is: I don’t like stereotypes or self-destructive behavior. I like a strong sense of self and valuing oneself as a gay person. All of those are present in this novel, leading to a mixed score on the Gay Positivity scale.

A breezy read for a rainy afternoon. Written in the tradition of an “English cozy” (a sub-genre of mystery that eschews violence), “Posted to Death” is a light-hearted murder mystery set in a quaint village in the English countryside. Our protagonist is a gay vampire transplant from the United States named Simon Kirby-Jones. His vampire-ness plays little role in the novel, however; he takes pills which eliminate the need to feed (so to speak), as well as reduce his sensitivity to sunlight etc.

As a recent arrival in the village of Snupperton Mumsley, he encounters a cast of eccentric characters, each with a closet full of skeletons. A busybody named Abigail has uncovered many of these secrets, which she uses to blackmail or manipulate the other villagers for her own petty goals. She compiled many of these secrets into a play which she wants performed by the local theater group; one of the village’s residents murders her to prevent his or her secrets from becoming known.

The author successfully surprises with the revelation of the murderer. I might have wished for another clue or two along the way, because even a clever reader (if I do say so myself!) would find it difficult to see past the red herrings and piece together the mystery. Still, it’s always fun when a story manages to surprise!

This short and fast-paced novel follows Simon’s successive meetings with various villagers. The characters, while colorful, failed to pull me into their world, and the plot developed in a relatively linear manner with few dramatic developments (other than the murder itself). Narratively, sometimes I wondered if this was the author’s first book. James obviously has the writing goods to pull off a quality mystery, but his skills can use some refining. I enjoyed the book enough to keep reading till the end, but it didn’t captivate me enough to keep me reading past my bedtime.

As a side-note, Simon is an American visiting the village, but he sounds like a Briton to me. He keeps using British colloquialisms, and when he tries to use American idioms, they don’t sound quite right, which distracts from the story.

The village also seems to boast a statistically large number of gay residents, which pleased me as well as Simon. Several potential romantic interests suggest themselves to Simon, although nothing develops, though not for want of trying in some cases! I adore the casualness with which James approaches Simon’s sexual orientation and his relationships. It was great fun to read an interesting mystery where the gay content felt organic and natural. Many authors introduce gay characters, but their gayness is more perfunctory than real. The reader doesn’t see how their sexual orientation influences them as people or manifests when they interact with others. Not so in “Posted to Death.” James does not shy from bringing up Simon’s romantic proclivities. But neither would I say this is a novel so gay-oriented that a straight reader would be turned off. In fact, I’d recommend this to my mother.