Jane Austen has nothing to worry about from P. D. James. I just finished Death Comes to Pemberley. Ho-hum.
There’s such a buzz surrounding the book that I was afraid I had not only missed the boat, but missed the bus to the train to the boat along the way. Except there doesn’t seem to have been much of a boat to begin with.
Too much distilled summary of background from Pride and Prejudice. I grant that I had forgotten a lot of P&P, so I needed the background to understand what was going on, but my eyes started crossing over in my head when I tried to work my way through such a concentrated torrent of background information.
Not really much of a plot. When the killer was revealed at first I didn’t believe it. I’m still not convinced it was possible. Then there was a great deal of recapitulation and explication of things that I’m sure were perfectly clear from P&P and didn’t need to be subjected to microscopic and uninteresting further examination.
I had hoped to find some of Austen’s pointed humor and pithy character observation, but alas the borrowing from P&P stopped with the appropriation of the characters and setting, rather as if a doll house, its contents, and its inhabitants had been borrowed for an afternoon of lackluster play by a determined, but plodding child.
I’m sorry to say: don’t bother.