Review of The Darkling Bride

Lately, I’ve been thinking I should change the title of this blog to “In Love with the British Isles.” I do love England (isn’t it obvious?), of course, but I love so much more! In the past, I’ve tried to narrow down my topics to England, but I’ve decided to turn to Ireland a bit more recently, as a couple of delightful Irish books have come my way for review.

I just finished The Darkling Bride by Laura Andersen. My life (like yours, I’m sure) has been busy and complicated, and finding time to read outside of my studies has been challenging. But I’m so glad I’ve had The Darkling Bride to turn to in my spare moments the past couple weeks, needing an escape from the neverending winter of Michigan.

The Darkling Bride by Laura Andersen

First, let me ask, do you like myths, murder mysteries, family secrets, historical fiction, libraries, ghosts, and Irish castles with a side of romance? This fast-paced novel has all of that. With its multiple perspectives and multiple timeframes, you never feel stuck in this book; you’re just excited to read what happens next.

There’s quite a few interesting characters in the book: Carragh Ryan, the archivist from Boston; Aidan Gallagher, the conflicted heir to the Deeprath Castle and estate; Sibéal McKenna, the police detective trying to prove herself in a new department. And these are just the characters in the current timeframe. We also get to time travel back to the 1800s to learn the stories of Jenny Gallagher, whose secrets and tragic end still haunt the castle battlements, and of Aidan’s own parents, who were mysteriously killed when he was just a child.

And of course, we can’t forget the castle itself. This structure comes alive in the novel, with its many additions and renovations from across the centuries; it feels like another character, acting its own will on the people living within the stone walls. I especially loved reading about the library which was built into an ancient chapel. I imagined shelves upon shelves of dusty tomes lining the stained-glass bay windows, containing a millenium of stories—and secrets, as it turns out.

I also appreciated the theme of identity in the novel. Carragh, an Asian-American, was adopted into an Irish-American family living in Boston; she inherits her grandmother’s home in Ireland and is the only one in her family who really wants to hold onto this piece of history. Aidan, on the other hand, struggles to accept his family inheritance, wanting to escape his family identity. It makes for an interesting contrast in the book, providing additional tension to the already tense unfolding of the family mystery.

I would consider this a fun, need-to-escape-int0-a-story-without-having-to-think-too-hard kind of mystery book. I would definitely recommend it if you need a mental escape to an Irish castle with a badass library.  

Thanks to Ballantine and Random House for providing a copy of The Darkling Bride for review.

Samwise Gamgee Meets Gandalf in the Frozen Foods Section

Sam walked up and down the grocery store aisles, a plastic basket crooked over his arm. “Not like the good old days,” he said, scratching the top of his graying head with his empty pipe. “This country’s gone to rot. Where in the name of Gandalf is the bleeding pipe weed?” Sam stopped and stared with red eyes at a wall of freezers. Everything from frozen ready-to-roast meals to ale popsicles stocked the shelves.

“Did you call on me, Master Samwise?” said a very tall person who was stepping out of one the freezer doors. “So nice to cool off a bit. They call it climate change, but honestly I feel like we’re virtually melting nowadays.”

“Gandalf?! I haven’t seen you in what, fifty years!”

Gandalf stroked his newly trimmed goatee. “Has it really been only fifty years? Seems like an eternity. Yes, well, the Grey Havens were getting a little grey, if you know what I mean. Too many elves. They sing constantly – after a while, an old wizard like me would like to wake up naturally, not to a multitude of conceited angels shrieking to the sunrise.”

“But what are you doing here?” asked Sam. His empty basket had crashed several moments before on the tile next his sandaled feet.

“Just checking up on things. Looking around. Taking a vacation, of sorts.”

“Well, things have changed quite a bit. All these new aboveground boxes selling everything under the sun. Everything but pipe weed, apparently.”

“If you must know,” said Gandalf, looking behind him before continuing, “all the pipe weed has been either smoked or burned since the government ban several weeks ago. It looks as though it has finally taken effect in the Shire.”

“Just what we need – another ban! We’ve only had to wear these blasted shoes indoors for a couple weeks, and already I’ve had hundreds of blisters!”

“Really, Sam, you’ve always been so prone to exaggeration. But you are right, the Gondorians have become rather overprotective.”

“To say the least! I can’t even grow my own vegetables without registering with the bloody Minister of Fruitation!”

“Eh-hem…” A smallish person with big round glasses and bulging beer-belly-in-progress emerged from the next aisle carrying a very large pumpkin and a six-pack of butterbeer. “Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m a bit ashamed really, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. You know, you were always my favorite character, Sam. May I call you Sam?”

“And who, might I ask, are you?” Sam asked, growing more agitated the longer he went without pipe weed.

“Oh, sorry. Thought you would know me. My name’s Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived and all that rot. Me and the Sorceror’s Stone, Me and the Chamber of Secrets – oh, and my personal favorite, Me and the Goblet-”

“Right-o! Of course I know you!” said Sam, a smile breaking out on his wrinkled face. “I’ve read your books to my grand-hobbits. Maybe you could sign a copy for me-”

“Oh, I don’t really do that anymore. Publicity isn’t good for my health, you see. But I’m very glad to meet a fan.”

Gandalf eyed the pumpkin suspiciously. “What do you have there, boy? Not delving into Black Magic, are you?”

“Of course not – why does everyone keep asking that? Actually it’s more like Purple Magic – very freeing and individualistic. I’ve never felt more accepted than when I hang out with Purple Magicians.”

Gandalf cleared his throat and arched a crooked eyebrow. “I see,” he sneered. “I really must be going; so very nice to chat, Master Samwise. You should consider retirement – Gray Havens has quite a vacancy!”

Sam watched as Gandalf skipped down the aisle and disappeared.

“Damn it all to Sauron, I meant to ask him about Frodo!” Sam said, quickly recovering his agitation as he remembered that he was no nearer to getting more pipe weed.

“Oh, haven’t you heard?’ whispered Harry, as if covering up a juicy secret. “Frodo’s left the Grey Havens. Joined the Sith, so they say.”