I walked out of a large retail store with The Casual Vacancy tucked under my arm. A passerby stopped me, chuckled, and said, “I heard that book is a bore.” I was a little annoyed with him, because I wanted to judge the entertainment and literary value of J.K. Rowling’s first novel written for adult readers myself.

I hope to provide a fair book review for those of you who may want to read the novel.

As just about every book reviewer in the world has stated, The Casual Vacancy is not magical in any sense, meaning there are no wizards, Muggles, mail delivery owls, etc.  Any reader hoping for a fantasy will be sorely disappointed. The Casual Vacancy is a story based in reality, which as we all know can be filled with fraught.

Characters range in sex, age, education, occupation, and status; there are 34 in total. To be honest, it was a little difficult to know who was who at the beginning of the novel. Fortunately, I found a character guide that helped me through the first few chapters.

The characters live, go to school, and work in the fictional town of Pagford or its outlier community, The Fields, about which there is much contention. Pagford is an “idyllic town,” which through earlier political wrangling, finds itself supporting, via tax dollars, the low income neighborhood, The Fields, which is rife with all of the abuses and crimes typically found in impoverished neighborhoods.

After the death of local Parish Councilor Barry Fairbrother (happens in the first few pages of the novel, so I’m not giving anything away), the citizens of Pagford and The Fields experience significant change in their lives. Readers will know far before the characters do where roads lead. I was reminded of other tales centered in small communities (e.g., books: Peyton Place, To Kill a Mockingbird / movies: Chocolat, The Village, It’s a Wonderful Life) where a character’s actions can have great consequences.  The dead Mr. Fairbrother is the only character in The Casual Vacancy to not be morally gray, and perhaps that’s because the dead are often idealized.

I found the story contemporary and relevant, especially when considering the political climate in which we live – the central motif of The Casual Vacancy is the replacement of Fairbrother on the town council. Politics can be ugly in small towns too.

I dismiss criticisms of the novel I have read, such as Michiko Kakutani’s review in The New York Times in which he states, “We do not come away feeling that we know the back stories of the ‘Vacancy’ characters in intimate detail the way we did with Harry and his friends and enemies, nor do we finish the novel with a visceral knowledge of how their pasts — and their families’ pasts — have informed their present lives.”

I’m bothered by that analysis. There are seven books in the Harry Potter series. Of course, there are more back stories! Trust me; The Casual Vacancy provides everything you need to know about the characters.

I equally pooh-pooh the review by columnist Jan Moir, who in the Daily Mail said the novel is “more than 500 pages of relentless socialist manifesto masquerading as literature.”

Rowling does have a socialist point of view, but it is not that of Ms. Moir. I assume Moir rejects ethical altruism. Rowling clearly points out inequities in society caused by those who are self-righteous and self-serving.

I find I most agree with the reviewer at The Telegraph who lauded the novel: “One marvels at the skill with which Rowling weaves such vivid characters in and out of each other’s lives, rendering them so complex and viscerally believable that one finds oneself caring for the worst of them.”

I imagine that someday we’ll see a small screen adaptation of the novel. It was easy for me to envision the novel as a BBC mini-series.* There would certainly be some juicy acting parts. I advise that you read the novel before it hits the screen. You might find it a slow read, but in my opinion every classic novel (it will be deemed that someday) is a slow read. If you want fantasy, look elsewhere, this is not the book for you.

*I just did a search and discovered that the novel will be a BBC series!

Carlos Ruiz Zafón’s The Angel’s Game is a mystery within a mystery within a mystery. No, that’s not a typographical error. I have been more careful in my second reading of the novel. Much of what I read the first time was forgotten. I don’t know if my memory failed because there are so many interweaving tales, or if I was overwhelmed the first time by the dark nature of the story. I can offer that the book is due a second reading by everyone who has read it once.

I did not find the tale evil this time; however, I would definitely label it gothic noir. The Angel’s Game is defined by its visuals as well as the hero’s challenging dilemmas, one in particular. When reading, I imagined how Orson Welles would light a film based on the book. Zafón leaves shadows everywhere. Every corner, alley, street, and room is dark and foreboding. Often a scene has only a single source of light (e.g., fire, streetlamp, moon, flashlight). Barcelona, often a menacing character itself, is aged and crumbling. City dwellers live within walls of majesty or in ruins; and every domicile, regardless of the fiscal standing of its residents, is filled with ghosts and secrets.

The hero, David Martìn, is faced with a multitude of uncertainties from the onset. Why did my mother leave? Where did she go? Where does my father go for days on end? What is he doing when he’s away? Why has Pedro Vidal befriended me? What must I do to be noticed by Cristina? How can I become the author I’ve always dreamt of being? Who is Andreas Correlli, and why has he taken an interest in me? The questions never stop for David, and twists of fate lurk around every corner, leaving the reader to wonder what events are causal, what events are matters of chance, and what events are predestined?

Ah, predestination – enter the enigmatic Andreas Correlli. One can’t help but think of Goethe’s tale of Faust when pondering the nature of Señor Correlli. Correlli conspires a deal with Martìn, but is it the proverbial “deal with the devil?” Some events in the story seem bound to happen when Correlli is involved, but even this interpretation is slippery. Friend, ghost, angel, fiend, or devil – how is Correlli to be judged by Martìn? What are readers to think of him?

The Angel’s Game is a cryptic maze. This is both criticism and praise. I find it fascinating to have so many questions, but at the same time, I like some resolution before more obscurity. I think the ambiguity of this story is what makes it so different from Zafón’s first novel in the series,* Shadow of the Wind. I’d also have to say that Shadow of the Wind lacks the sinister undertones of The Angel’s Game. I do appreciate that The Angel’s Game returns to The Cemetery of Forgotten Books in Barcelona’s Raval district and the Sempere & Sons bookshop. For those of us who love books, these two fictional places are corners of the world we’d like to imagine as real. Zafón would have been remiss if he had not also included novels with which we’re familiar as part of the tale. This is more red meat for bibliophiles!

I recommend that you read this book if you have read Shadow of the Wind. Readers of gothic lore and horror may enjoy reading the book too. The book will either challenge you or toward its last third, tire you. It’s possible to find the layers of mystery tedious.

*The books are not a series in the traditional sense. Any book can be read in any order. Zafón has linked the books together by including in each many of the same characters and places, including the Cemetery of Forgotten Books.

If you have loved deeply, endured a decline in a relationship, and made it through a painful breakup you’ll understand many of the emotions (e.g., disappointment, apathy, disgust, rage, sorrow) experienced by wedded partners Nick and Amy Dunne. You may even, now that hindsight has given you 20-20 vision, be able to admit that a partner wasn’t wholly responsible for the building and dis-assembly of a relationship. After all, it takes two to tango no matter how badly or how perfectly each of you dances!

Gillian Flynn’s novel, Gone Girl, exposes readers to the Dunne’s tangled marriage through Nick’s and Amy’s individual point of view. Chapters go back and forth between their narratives, giving readers the feeling they’re watching a high stakes tennis match or following two attorneys arguing a life and death case. As readers, we’re meant to pick a side! Who is believable? Who do you feel sympathy/empathy for? Who has the best argument/evidence? Who has the highest level of integrity?

I think if you consider any single, dissolved relationship that you’re familiar with, you’ll realize you lean strongly toward one person’s perception of that relationship. It’s normal for us to choose a side, even when we don’t have all of the details.

That being said, Gone Girl is so much more than a he said she said story. It’s more than a wedded bliss to wedded misery story. It’s a mystery. Amy Dunne goes missing on the 5-year anniversary of her marriage to Nick. Did she leave Nick? Has there been some sort of foul play by a neighborhood drifter? Is Nick responsible for her disappearance (murdered her)?

The rapid fire, knife-sharp prose of Gillian Flynn will catch you and quickly pull you through to the end – an ending that may in fact convey a moral truth. (For those of you who have read the book, is this a moral tale/morality play?) I read the 400+ pages book over the weekend, while still managing to get a lot of things done. Gillian Flynn doesn’t waste words. Most interesting to me though are the multitude of details she’s attended to. It’s easy to understand why she’s one of the hottest mystery genre writers of the time. I recommend this book, and I look forward to reading Flynn’s earlier novels.