nineveh_uk (nineveh_uk) wrote,
nineveh_uk
nineveh_uk

Hurled with great force

She took four deep breaths through her nose, as she had been taught so many years ago by Khan, the blind Ceylonese mystic to whom Maurice had introduced her, to learn that seeing is not necessarily a function of the eyes alone.

Meet Maisie Dobbs, heroine of “Birds of a Feather” (and, alas, others) by Jacqueline Winspear, a private investigator in 1930s London, working class girl made good ex-domestic servant via the patronage of her employer “Lady Rowan” – or interchangeably “Lady Compton” – and Maurice, a benevolent cross between Svengali and Charlie of Angels fame. Maisie is in her early thirties, her physical charms marred only by a scar at the nape of her neck - souvenir of WWI when she found time, having made it improbably to Girton, to moonlight as a nurse – and no doubt symbolically reminding us that her calm exterior hides a troubled soul. She lives in a flat in Lady X's London house, but still gets asked to the pictures by the servants. She employs a painfully cockney ex-soldier whose life she once saved, and who temporarily nips back on to cocaine to easy a game leg before being given physiotherapy by Mr Pilates himself. Taking on a case, Maisie is concerned not just to solve the mystery, but to bring healing to the participants. She is loving, giving, feisty, brave, and true. Oh, and she has psychic powers and can get murderers to confess through her amazingly controlled body language. If anyone doubts that the pure Mary-Sue lives in original fiction, Maisie is the proof and I claim my £5. Do not read this book.
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