Monday, 19 January 2015 04:17 pm
Book Review: The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise
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deckardcanineMy mom read this and kept saying I would enjoy it, but I didn't show much interest before she gave it to me for Christmas. I picked it to read next because it's just over 300 pages, shorter than other books I have waiting. Still set a quota of one chapter a day to finish more quickly than I felt like reading.
In her native U.K., Julia Stuart's novel goes by Balthazar Jones and the Tower of London Zoo. A bit cumbersome, but I'm not sure why U.S. distributors chose the new title, particularly since the tortoise doesn't have a big role. Maybe they thought it did more to convey a quaint, humorous nature, in keeping with the cartoony cover art and some of the blurbs. I could tell from the outset that the story, while theoretically possible, borders on fantasy. (Famous ghosts appear from time to time, whether real or imagined by witnesses.) Were it not for occasional references to Phil Collins and Harry Potter, I couldn't even tell for sure that it didn't take place in the first half of the 20th century. Adding to the quirkiness is Stuart's use of first and last names together every time for every character, except in quotations.
The main plot: Yeoman Warder Balthazar Jones, a laconic long-time Beefeater who hasn't impressed anyone lately, has the unenviable position of living in the Tower of London, talking about its sordid history, and answering the same silly questions daily. Life gets a lot harder when someone recalls that the landmark used to house a menagerie for exotic animals entrusted to the royal family and then hopes that reviving the practice will draw more tourists. Jones is surprised to be put in charge of it, having no more qualifications than owning the world's oldest tortoise. Subplots involve his Greek wife Hebe at the London Underground's lost-and-found, which gets some curious items, one with a nigh untraceable owner; her co-worker Valerie Jennings, who has her eye on a common customer with the uncommon name of Arthur Catnip; and Rev. Septimus Drew, who secretly writes popular romance novels and hopes to obtain actual experience with local cook Ruby Dore. Quite a recipe, right?
And then there are the outright tragic Jones family troubles. Their son Milo died at age 11; only near the end do we learn how, and even then it sounds mysterious. His death caused his parents to drift apart emotionally before the start of the book, and the stresses of the zoo inspire Hebe to walk out. While the second half is sadder than the first, memories of Milo surface all around. (Other characters have their lesser heartbreaks, and not all animals come out alive.)
Frankly, I had expected more antics. Despite some major setbacks, the zoo works out better than I'd have predicted for reality. The animals do have a mass escape at one point, but not for long. Perhaps I would have liked the book better if I'd paid more attention to the blurbs noting poignancy, but it doesn't change the fact that many chapters meander, and full names aren't the only repetitive aspect to Stuart's writing. Her minimal use of dialog early on doesn't help either.
The most interesting aspects to me were mildly educational. I'd never heard of a zorilla, for example, or the habits of threatened marmosets. And while I did once visit the Tower, I never gave much thought to what life must be like for the guides.
Now I'm reading John Ringo's Emerald Sea, second entry in the Council Wars tetralogy. I haven't tried the first entry or anything else by Ringo yet, but at least this way assures me of a main conflict established in the prologue.
In her native U.K., Julia Stuart's novel goes by Balthazar Jones and the Tower of London Zoo. A bit cumbersome, but I'm not sure why U.S. distributors chose the new title, particularly since the tortoise doesn't have a big role. Maybe they thought it did more to convey a quaint, humorous nature, in keeping with the cartoony cover art and some of the blurbs. I could tell from the outset that the story, while theoretically possible, borders on fantasy. (Famous ghosts appear from time to time, whether real or imagined by witnesses.) Were it not for occasional references to Phil Collins and Harry Potter, I couldn't even tell for sure that it didn't take place in the first half of the 20th century. Adding to the quirkiness is Stuart's use of first and last names together every time for every character, except in quotations.
The main plot: Yeoman Warder Balthazar Jones, a laconic long-time Beefeater who hasn't impressed anyone lately, has the unenviable position of living in the Tower of London, talking about its sordid history, and answering the same silly questions daily. Life gets a lot harder when someone recalls that the landmark used to house a menagerie for exotic animals entrusted to the royal family and then hopes that reviving the practice will draw more tourists. Jones is surprised to be put in charge of it, having no more qualifications than owning the world's oldest tortoise. Subplots involve his Greek wife Hebe at the London Underground's lost-and-found, which gets some curious items, one with a nigh untraceable owner; her co-worker Valerie Jennings, who has her eye on a common customer with the uncommon name of Arthur Catnip; and Rev. Septimus Drew, who secretly writes popular romance novels and hopes to obtain actual experience with local cook Ruby Dore. Quite a recipe, right?
And then there are the outright tragic Jones family troubles. Their son Milo died at age 11; only near the end do we learn how, and even then it sounds mysterious. His death caused his parents to drift apart emotionally before the start of the book, and the stresses of the zoo inspire Hebe to walk out. While the second half is sadder than the first, memories of Milo surface all around. (Other characters have their lesser heartbreaks, and not all animals come out alive.)
Frankly, I had expected more antics. Despite some major setbacks, the zoo works out better than I'd have predicted for reality. The animals do have a mass escape at one point, but not for long. Perhaps I would have liked the book better if I'd paid more attention to the blurbs noting poignancy, but it doesn't change the fact that many chapters meander, and full names aren't the only repetitive aspect to Stuart's writing. Her minimal use of dialog early on doesn't help either.
The most interesting aspects to me were mildly educational. I'd never heard of a zorilla, for example, or the habits of threatened marmosets. And while I did once visit the Tower, I never gave much thought to what life must be like for the guides.
Now I'm reading John Ringo's Emerald Sea, second entry in the Council Wars tetralogy. I haven't tried the first entry or anything else by Ringo yet, but at least this way assures me of a main conflict established in the prologue.