Hazel Holt (1928–2015)

When her internationally known journalist husband dies shortly after his retirement, Eva Jackson returns to Taviscombe, where she grew up. One of her many tasks is to sort through her husband’s papers, but she simply cannot face it yet and asks old friend Sheila Malory and cousin Rosemary, Sheila’s best friend, to help her lug the boxes into the shed, where she promptly forgets them. Soon after that, there is an unfortunate fire in the shed, apparently due to faulty wiring, but the show more papers aren’t damaged and the same group removes them to the house for safekeeping. And soon after *that*, Eva is dead, from leaving her diabetes untreated while suffering a respiratory illness, and her son Daniel and his partner Patrick move into the cottage, only to have patterns repeating themselves….This is the 20th and final volume of the Mrs. Malory mystery series, ended not because anything drastic happens to the main characters but because Ms. Holt herself died. As a finale, it weaves in all the elements of this cozy series: comfortable relationships between villagers, a generally benign look at small-town life (including such mundane matters as cleaning one’s kitchen cupboards and preparing coffee mornings at the local town hall), and an inquisitive amateur detective who happens to know everybody in the village and whom everybody feels comfortable confiding in. Plus, as happens frequently in this series, a solution that seems to come out of left field but that is completely reasonable upon consideration. I shall miss Sheila Malory and her friends and her pets - and Taviscombe too! Recommended. show less

Sheila Malory’s friend Monica asks Sheila to take over her volunteer job at a local charity shop three days a week while Monica attends to her daughter, a new mother in need of help. Sheila is happy to do so, until she runs across both Desmond Barlow and Norma Stanley. He is an officious and patronizing oaf, and she is intent on taking over the social world of Taviscombe despite being an off-comer who has only lived there for a little while. Nobody is too upset when Desmond is murdered in show more the shop one night, not even his very passive wife Wendy, but Sheila is nonetheless curious about the death, because there are quite a few people in the town with whom he had clashed. And Norma is suddenly acting very strangely, abandoning her commitments and generally not responding in her usual high-handed manner to any slight transgression…. This is the 19th story in this series, and it provides an interesting viewpoint with respect to how small towns are run on charitable work and by committee. I especially like how Sheila interacts with the more aggressive characters in her town - basically, she proffers a pleasant facade and mild agreement, then goes her own way. Which is, of course, about the only way to deal with those people who think it proper to take over your life for you! These books do not really need to be read in sequence, although some readers new to the series might take a while to sort out the various well-established relationships; generally, the fun of the series lies in its cozy attributes, each being a quick and satisfying read; recommended. show less

Curses, Hazel Holt! You get me every time! Your mystery novels have thus far suffered from the same difficulties: dreadful dialogue, lousy characters, smug pretensions. But then, Holt, you introduce some interesting and/or unexpected twists to the plot, and I find myself — against my better judgment — adding an extra star to the review and breaking my vow not to read another Mrs. Malory mystery.

The title of Holt’s The Cruellest Month is emblematic of the problem with the entire novel. show more There’s a reference, of course, to T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, but it doesn’t quite fit. That’s the only reference in the entire book to Eliot or the poem — a promise of a clever connection that never comes to pass. Take that as a metaphor for this novel as whole.

Sheila Malory, a widow who dabbles in literary criticism, fell a bit short of the mark in Gone Away, the first in this mystery series. In that novel, Mrs. Malory was a bit too earnest, the dialogue a bit wooden, and the secondary characters a bit flat, but some clever plotting and Mrs. Malory’s utter likeableness proved enough to overcome the failings of Mrs. Malory Investigates (also sold as Gone Away).

In The Cruellest Month, all of the problems of the first novel intensify: Mrs. Malory comes off as smug and judgmental rather than simply earnest, the other characters morph into caricatures, and the dialogue — particularly that coming from Sheila’s son Michael and the Bodleian librarian Tony Stirling — simply comes off as unbelievable. The pair of them sound more like taciturn old men bemoaning the disrespect and fecklessness of these young whippersnappers than as realistic twenty-somethings. Holt simply doesn’t have any ear at all for how young people think or speak.

Holt’s premise — an elderly librarian’s death at Oxford’s New Bodleian Library turns out not to be accidental after all — promises an intriguing mystery, just as the title promised some clever literary connections; here, though, Holt actually follows through. As much as I hated myself for it, whereas I had loathed the first half of The Cruellest Month, I found myself glued to the slim volume for the last half of the book, particularly when Holt begins to poke around into the victim’s World War II experiences.

It’s too bad. I really wanted to call it quits after The Cruelest Month, but I fear I’ll eventually succumb and read the next novel in the series, Mrs. Malory's Shortest Journey — particularly if it turns out to be a cheap read in the Kindle format. O, Ivonne, be strong, be strong and resist! show less

Rating: 3.5* of five

The Book Description: The first book in the delightful British cozy mystery series featuring Mrs. Sheila Malory, a plain-spoken widow residing in the little seaside town of Taviscombe, England. When pretty but avaricious Lee Montgomery disappears, her fiancé Charles Richardson (an old flame of Mrs. M's) enlists Mrs. Malory's help. The dauntless Mrs. Malory soon suspects the worst. Little does she realize the terrible secrets her investigation will reveal....

Or this show more superior jacket copy from the UK reprint of the book: Everyone knows that impertinent Lee Montgomery is marrying Charles Richardson for his money. After Lee vanishes, Charles' friends breathe a sigh of relief. But Charles loves his pretty fiancée and is determined to get her back. He enlists the talents of Mrs. Sheila Malory, whose pastimes include reading nineteenth-century novels and ferreting out the truth. Mrs. Malory, a reluctant amateur detective, is soon convinced that Lee has been the victim of foul play. The residents of the sleepy seaside village of Taviscombe, England, are about to discover just how difficult it is to keep their terrible secrets with Mrs. Malory on the case.

My Review: This is a very good debut mystery, and a pleasure to read. Imperfect, of course, in that it feels a bit rushed, and some characterizations get slighted, but better that than the Dreaded Book Bloat that seems to afflict so many writers in the 21st century. "Why use one word for gore when fifty-six will do? Oh, split them between gore and sex? Naaah, sixty-eight words about sex. Emotions? Not unless it's a woman pining for/plotting revenge on an abusive man!"

*snore*

So here is Mrs. Malory, a widowed Marple-esque unthreatening Everylady of A Certain Age ("fifty-four, if I'm honest," she says charmingly) owned by a Siamese named Foff and a Westy named Tris, mother of an Oxford student, and lifelong resident of a seaside village that's so much like Jessica Fletcher's Cabot's Cove, Maine, that I raised my eyebrows into my hairline. As this now resides east of my ears, this is no mean feat.

I love moments in the book such as her reunion with her girlhood crush-object, her older brother's boarding school chum. Holt writes a short vignette of Mrs. M's girlish moment of Rapture as this older, handsome god grabs her for the final dance at the Hunt Ball, a memory she has while sitting in a tatty but clean cottage lounge across from the sixty-year-old wreckage of that beautiful boy. It is so moving, and so very much the way a person of this vintage feels and thinks (well, *I* do and so do most of my friends), and says volumes about the sleuth and the course of the series.

Imagine a mystery series set in Barestshire, written by Angela Thirkell's granddaughter, and there you have the affect of the series. Its effect on me was to cause me to reserve the next three books. show less