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Book 59, 2014
Dec. 27th, 2014 02:30 pmOn Monday night, I finished reading Scratch the Surface by Susan Conant. It was billed as "A Cat Lover's Mystery", but I've seen no evidence that the author wrote any more in this verse, which is just as well. I understand that Conant writes lovely, cozy mysteries featuring dogs, and I believe this was her tongue-in-cheek response to readers who clamored for a cozy cat mystery. I've never read any of her dog mysteries, and reading this cat one hasn't inspired me to pick any up to try.
The main character, Felicity Pride, was as unlikable as a protagonist can be. She was a writer of cozy cat mysteries, featuring her heroine Prissy LaChatte. However, Felicity wasn't fond of cats, herself. She was aloof, self-centered, and self-absorbed. When Felicity returns home one evening to find a murdered man in the vestibule of her home, along with a cat, she is immediately more excited about her discovery than saddened or afraid. Throughout the story, Felicity continued to mentally consider the situation "her" murder, and she was resentful when some of her fellow mystery authors accompanied her to the man's funeral, as she was afraid they were trying to horn in on "her" mystery.
In Felicity's defense, she did take in the cat, albeit because she was convinced the cat was key to solving the mystery of the man's death. During her own investigation, Felicity learned the man had another cat, and she beat the police to his apartment to "adopt" that one as well. Throughout the course of the book, Felicity did grow attached to the cats, which was her only redeeming quality.
Conant interspersed the narrative of Felicity's story with short chapters from the cats' point of view, and I could discern no real reason to do so. However, one such aside did provide the best line of the entire book:
Abandoning the bathtub, she (Edith the cat) runs out to the hallway and is halfway down the steep, uncarpeted stairs when she is assaulted by Brigitte, the spirit of chaos, who has been lurking in the hope of a good ambush.
I laughed loud and long over that bit, as it is reminiscent of my own household. Edith was the stocky cat that Felicity found with the body, and Brigitte was her companion cat, although they tussled more often than not.
I confess that I had to slog through the book to finish it. As mentioned, the main character was not someone whom you'd want to spend any time with, and the only part I liked was the cats. Had the author tried to write something delightful, I may have been inspired to try some of her other books. Instead, she tried satire, and I was unimpressed with the results.
I'm giving this one two stars, and one of them is for that line above:
★★
The main character, Felicity Pride, was as unlikable as a protagonist can be. She was a writer of cozy cat mysteries, featuring her heroine Prissy LaChatte. However, Felicity wasn't fond of cats, herself. She was aloof, self-centered, and self-absorbed. When Felicity returns home one evening to find a murdered man in the vestibule of her home, along with a cat, she is immediately more excited about her discovery than saddened or afraid. Throughout the story, Felicity continued to mentally consider the situation "her" murder, and she was resentful when some of her fellow mystery authors accompanied her to the man's funeral, as she was afraid they were trying to horn in on "her" mystery.
In Felicity's defense, she did take in the cat, albeit because she was convinced the cat was key to solving the mystery of the man's death. During her own investigation, Felicity learned the man had another cat, and she beat the police to his apartment to "adopt" that one as well. Throughout the course of the book, Felicity did grow attached to the cats, which was her only redeeming quality.
Conant interspersed the narrative of Felicity's story with short chapters from the cats' point of view, and I could discern no real reason to do so. However, one such aside did provide the best line of the entire book:
Abandoning the bathtub, she (Edith the cat) runs out to the hallway and is halfway down the steep, uncarpeted stairs when she is assaulted by Brigitte, the spirit of chaos, who has been lurking in the hope of a good ambush.
I laughed loud and long over that bit, as it is reminiscent of my own household. Edith was the stocky cat that Felicity found with the body, and Brigitte was her companion cat, although they tussled more often than not.
I confess that I had to slog through the book to finish it. As mentioned, the main character was not someone whom you'd want to spend any time with, and the only part I liked was the cats. Had the author tried to write something delightful, I may have been inspired to try some of her other books. Instead, she tried satire, and I was unimpressed with the results.
I'm giving this one two stars, and one of them is for that line above:
★★
