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That is what you do.
Thus Was Adonis Murdered, The Shortest Way to Hades, The Sirens Sang of Murder, and The Sybil in Her Grave, by Sarah Caudwell
These are a series of mysteries which all begin with one of four young lawyers getting involved with a murder, typically by way of a client's novel tax avoidance arrangements. (Caudwell was herself a tax lawyer.) The narrator is a pompous law professor named Hilary Tamar, who usually ends up solving the mysteries for the young lawyers, and prefers to be referred to as a scholar rather than a detective.
The four young lawyers who get in trouble behave a lot like the four kids who get in trouble in the Young Readers novels of yore. You couldn't quite match them up one-to-one to the Boxcar Children, but it's that kind of dynamic, albeit with the addition of ill-advised sexual encounters, alcohol, and tax law. At least two-thirds of each novel is epistolary, consisting of letters from the lawyers and their friends and clients to each other.
I've noticed that when people review books by Sarah Caudwell, they tend to do it with heavy use of quotes; they have a very distinctive voice. Here:
They pretty much sound like that all the time.
The first three are fairly light most of the time, with occasional descents into some unsettling psychological territory towards the end, which always feels unexpected. The fourth, written shortly before Caudwell's death and I think published posthumously, starts out dark and claustrophobic and stays that way. Hilary and the young lawyers, apparently not being well-equipped for this atmosphere, are only tangentially involved in most of it, and the book consists mostly of letters from the aunt of one of the lawyers.
Kushiel's Mercy, by Jacqueline Carey (Imriel trilogy, book 3)
Everyone got brainwashed in this book! It's not the conflict I was expecting for the end of this series? I guess it worked, but I honestly would've preferred the plot she made us think she was going for, where Imriel's got to outwit Melisande and turn her in and everyone's just very upset about the whole thing. This felt like kind of a cheat sometimes.
I think it would spice up Imriel and Sidonie's relationship if, every couple of years, they get brainwashed and have to find one another and fall in love again to save the world. It'd be sort of like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, except in fake-magical-bondage-France.
Point of Honour, by Madeleine Robins
In a slightly-alternate-universe Regency England, Sarah Tolerance, a young woman of noble birth disowned by her family for running away with her now-deceased fencing instructor, makes a living as a private detective. The powerful, handsome, and obviously-hiding-something Count Verseillon approaches her to ask that she find an Italian fan his father once gave away to his mistress. She realizes that there must be something more serious about her search when the people she involves in it begin to be murdered.
I feel like this book is basically Madeleine Robins repeating over and over, "Regency romances need to get their act together." She does not seem to approve of many of the tropes.
Thus Was Adonis Murdered, The Shortest Way to Hades, The Sirens Sang of Murder, and The Sybil in Her Grave, by Sarah Caudwell
These are a series of mysteries which all begin with one of four young lawyers getting involved with a murder, typically by way of a client's novel tax avoidance arrangements. (Caudwell was herself a tax lawyer.) The narrator is a pompous law professor named Hilary Tamar, who usually ends up solving the mysteries for the young lawyers, and prefers to be referred to as a scholar rather than a detective.
The four young lawyers who get in trouble behave a lot like the four kids who get in trouble in the Young Readers novels of yore. You couldn't quite match them up one-to-one to the Boxcar Children, but it's that kind of dynamic, albeit with the addition of ill-advised sexual encounters, alcohol, and tax law. At least two-thirds of each novel is epistolary, consisting of letters from the lawyers and their friends and clients to each other.
I've noticed that when people review books by Sarah Caudwell, they tend to do it with heavy use of quotes; they have a very distinctive voice. Here:
She had impressed on Julia her duty to write daily, for the edification and amusement of those left in Lincoln's Inn.
"You have made it clear, I hope," said Ragwort, "that the letters should be suitable to be read in mixed company and the activities described of unquestionable decorum?"
"Not precisely," said Selena. "I said that what we hoped for was a picaresque series of attempted seductions. I told her we would not insist, however, on their uniform success. I said that on the contrary we might think it inartistic."
They pretty much sound like that all the time.
The first three are fairly light most of the time, with occasional descents into some unsettling psychological territory towards the end, which always feels unexpected. The fourth, written shortly before Caudwell's death and I think published posthumously, starts out dark and claustrophobic and stays that way. Hilary and the young lawyers, apparently not being well-equipped for this atmosphere, are only tangentially involved in most of it, and the book consists mostly of letters from the aunt of one of the lawyers.
Kushiel's Mercy, by Jacqueline Carey (Imriel trilogy, book 3)
Everyone got brainwashed in this book! It's not the conflict I was expecting for the end of this series? I guess it worked, but I honestly would've preferred the plot she made us think she was going for, where Imriel's got to outwit Melisande and turn her in and everyone's just very upset about the whole thing. This felt like kind of a cheat sometimes.
I think it would spice up Imriel and Sidonie's relationship if, every couple of years, they get brainwashed and have to find one another and fall in love again to save the world. It'd be sort of like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, except in fake-magical-bondage-France.
Point of Honour, by Madeleine Robins
In a slightly-alternate-universe Regency England, Sarah Tolerance, a young woman of noble birth disowned by her family for running away with her now-deceased fencing instructor, makes a living as a private detective. The powerful, handsome, and obviously-hiding-something Count Verseillon approaches her to ask that she find an Italian fan his father once gave away to his mistress. She realizes that there must be something more serious about her search when the people she involves in it begin to be murdered.
I feel like this book is basically Madeleine Robins repeating over and over, "Regency romances need to get their act together." She does not seem to approve of many of the tropes.
