The final speech, a eulogy, is lovely and moving–Archer does know how to compose stirring oratory–but in the end (literally, in more ways than one), it just made me sad for what might have been.
Author: Jeffrey Archer
Potentially objectionable content: Seventh verse, same as the first; opera style IS the worst. (That's to see if my dad is reading!)
This presented me with a conundrum, because this undertaking was meant to depict my journey through reading only those volumes printed on paper (which still outnumber my digital titles on a scale of roughly 15 to 1.) However, it's been years since I read the first four books, and despite still holding on to most of the major plot points, I knew my experience of these installments would be enhanced by a re-read of the others. So my decision was to read, but not write up, volumes three and four. (Volume one here if you're interested.)
Having dispensed with the preliminaries: this is...not great. It's engaging enough, I suppose, but frankly I lost interest in these characters about a book and a half ago. Perhaps growing tired of hitting the same old notes, or needing more material to lengthen a story even he's no longer interested in, Archer subjects the long-suffering Clifton-Barrington clan to ever more ludicrous plot twists, aided by a rotating cast of arch-nemeses who could pursue Bond villainy as a viable career path. (Seriously: how many enemies determined to cause their downfall at any price can one family have?) Moreover, the twists and turns demanded by this saga are accomplished by introducing characters and causes we've never met before (Harry's sudden fixation on an imprisoned Russian author comes out of nowhere, as does Sebastian's supervisor at the bank) and using facts and traits that were never mentioned previously (Giles and his wife are estranged? Harry has a photographic memory?) Soap operas have better-scripted surprises (and indeed, as in all good soap operas, several characters have come back from supposed deaths at this point.) And to top it all off, we have completely abandoned the story's original premise: is Harry a Clifton, biologically, or a Barrington? (Because, lest we forget, if the latter, he's married to his half-sister. Something that didn't slow either of them down in the slightest, and hasn't even been mentioned since about two chapters into book three.)
Despite all this, I have been, and remain, a fan of Jeffrey Archer's work. But I would advise him to stick to single volumes, and leave the series to someone–anyone–else.
Author: Jeffrey Archer
Potentially objectionable content: occasional language, intense scenes
Quick aside about name recognition: when I was in eighth grade, I had a speech teacher tell me that books are usually published with the title at the top and the author at the bottom. But once an author gets famous enough (and I'm not sure what formula they would use to calculate "famous enough"-total copies sold, maybe?) they would switch the author and the title, on the assumption that the author's name would be a better way to attract attention and thereby sales. This makes sense, although it's not universally true; the Harry Potter books spring to mind as an exception. It's also supported by evidence from other mediums: movie posters, covers and even opening credits all use this to some degree. (That wasn't as quick as I intended it to be.)
Back to the book: It feels like it's from earlier in his career (indeed, a quick internet search reveals that it was his eighth published novel) and doesn't have any of the plot devices that show up so often in his later work. And because of the summary, I wondered for a while if the idea for this movie originated here. There are some parallels; the stealing of the Declaration of Independence is really only the beginning of the adventure, rather than the climax; decoys are used in both stories; someone who is an academic becomes more of an action hero; etc. (Since I'm making this comparison, I'll just say it: Disney did it better. I was more invested in both the outcome and the characters in their story, and if there's one thing Jeffrey Archer really lacks in his books, it's a sense of humor.) I also thought it had some problems with pacing (something he also struggles with) and both character and plot could have used better development.
Despite being the "Cars" of his novels, it's a decent one; I always like a good caper, especially one tied to American history, and this delivers on that aspect of it at least. We'll see how I feel about it if I ever make it back around.
Author: Jeffrey Archer
Potentially objectionable content: It's REALLY violent; at least 20 people end up dead, and some of them are described in a bit more detail than anyone needs. There's also a fair amount of language and some sexual references (though nothing graphic)
Reading about her experiences making Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music was as delightful as I had hoped it would be (The Sound of Music being a particular favorite of mine), though her memories of Christopher Plummer are tinged with sadness for me since his recent passing. What I was most struck by was the sense of struggle: to develop as an actor, singer, and author; to make her various relationships work; even to pay her bills! You would think, once you got to that level of fame, that money would never be a concern for you again.
She attributes some of that last effort to the spending habits of her late second husband, director Blake Edwards, whom she speaks of with both great affection and immense frustration, in about equal measure; it was hard to tell at points whether she even liked him. This is particularly interesting as they were married for 40 years, and Edwards passed away in 2010. This book came out in 2019; after nearly a decade, you would think whatever resentment still lingered would have been processed by then.
That remarkable candor is present in all of her stories, particularly about her family; faults, frailties and failings are laid out with no sense of apology or attempt to sugar-coat. Yet somehow, even when expressing annoyance or irritation, she is extraordinarily kind; some good quality, some humorous incident, some act of generosity is found in every person she names. It's as though she sees them for exactly who they are and makes a conscience effort to love their virtues more. And while I have always admired her (on my "Famous People I'd Love to Meet" list, only she is higher than Hugh Jackman) that trait is one I would truly wish to emulate.
Authors: Julie Andrews and Emma Walton Hamilton
Potentially objectionable content: language and thematic elements again
