The slump is, at least temporarily, over.
As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust is the seventh novel in Alan Bradley's series featuring chemist/sleuth/pre-teen extraordinaire Flavia de Luce. Unlike the other installments, this tale takes place in Canada at the boarding school Flavia's mother had attended in her youth. I missed Buckshaw and Bishop's Lacey back in England almost as much as Flavia did, and found myself sniffling more than a few times as she recalled her home, friends, family, and even her beloved bicycle, Gladys.
Of course, along with the anguish of missing home, Flavia also has to deal with a murder mystery almost literally falling at her feet ... as well as a great deal of other mysteries which may or may not be related. After all, this isn't a typical boarding school. It's also the training facility for a secret society known as the Nide. There wasn't as much detail about that aspect as I was hoping for, but the poor girl was a bit busy trying to adjust and solve the mystery of the body that fell out of her chimney. She managed in typical Flavia fashion with her wits and more than a bit of spunk. I do so love her spunk.
I debated, briefly, giving this less than five stars. When it came right down to it, though, I had no good reason. The mystery and characters kept me guessing. Flavia kept me entertained. Once again, Alan Bradley reminds me why I love reading so much, and how much joy can be had in staying up late for just "one more chapter." If I ever find myself in a slump again, he will be the first one I turn to.
Author: Alan Bradley
Publication: Delacorte Press (Random House), 6 January 2015
First Lines: If you're anything like me, you adore rot. It is pleasant to reflect upon the fact that decay and decomposition are what make the world go round.
Faves on 5s:
5%: One of the things I dread about becoming an adult is that sooner or later you begin letting sentimentality get in the way of simple logic. False feelings are allowed to clog the works like raw honey poured into the tiny wheels of a fine timepiece.
15%: "Curse this life!" I thought. And then I remembered the dead body upstairs and I cheered up at once.
55%: There is an electric silence that comes with shock: a silence which is intolerable yet which, in spite of that, you are powerless to break.
75%: There's something in human nature, I'm beginning to learn, that makes and adult, when speaking to a younger person, magnify the little things and shrink the big ones. It's like looking -- or talking -- though a kind of word-telescope that, no matter which end they choose, distorts the truth. Your mistakes are always magnified and your victories shrunken.
95%: Sleep was impossible. I tossed and turned, sweated and swore. By daylight I was a bad-tempered haystack, but I didn't care.
