Sebastian Arcady and Phineas Zene (Crime & Violins) review Patry Francis’ The Liar’s Diary.

Arcady: Welcome, Internet, to Spontaneous Derivation’s review of a truly sublime and richly woven novel, The Liar’s Diary.

I’m Sebastian Arcady, violinist, composer, and criminal investigator; and this is Phineas Zene, cellist, devoted friend, and assistant.

Zene: … And hello out there.

Arcady: Let’s begin with our impressions. To tell the truth, The Liar’s Diary is a little out of the venue of my usual preferred literature—

Zene: Mine, too.

Arcady: But when I heard that one of the principal, pivotal characters is a charismatic, seductive, and sexy violinist… well, I just had to read it.

Zene: I also. After all, Ali Mather sounded so much like some violinists I know.

Arcady: I was pleasantly surprised. The beginning of the book drew me in, focusing on the violinist of the piece, alluding from the start the nature of her personality that will delicately set the dramatic events of the story in motion. Let me quote to you:

There was so much talk about the new music teacher before she arrived that her coming was almost anticlimactic. However, I would soon learn that Ali Mather never allowed herself to be upstaged—not even by her own advance publicity. The very first day of classes, she wrinkled her nose when a student called her Mrs. Mather. “Please,” she said, “Call me Ali.” Well, you can bet that our principal, Simon Murphy, straightened her out on that one. On the second day of school, the words MRS. MATHER appeared in huge block letters across her blackboard. Smiling ironically, Ali corrected herself: The students were to call her Mrs. Mather as Mr. Murphy requested. By the end of her little speech, however, it was obvious that in the us-against-them atmosphere that frequently permeated the school, Ali was one of them. Even if they did have to call her Mrs. Mather.

A wonderful little story to start off the rest of the novel. And this novel is all about little stories—building upon one another ceaselessly, drawn from the deep and troubled secret history of Jeanne Cross and her family. A true fugue of lies and deceit, keeping the listener—I mean, reader—on his or her toes, looking for the elusive melody of the truth beneath appearances.

Zene: Yes, and the counterpoint between the dark vivacity of Ali and the trembling vulnerability of Jeanne is a constant source of tension and pleasure throughout the entire work. Their relationship grabs you and never lets go—a true meeting of opposites, slow to start, but then burning like an unquenchable fire, all the way from start to finish. I was truly impressed.

Arcady: I did find Jeanne’s denial quite frustrating. I kept wanting to tell her, “Stop lying to yourself! Stop pretending!” But of course, the roots of that particular tree run deep.

Zene: Well, I did understand her point of view. It’s hard to let go of a certain view of yourself and your family, after being entrenched for so long in a situation you feel just has to be made to work. Frustration is part of the deal. I was rooting for her all the way through, wanting to see her grow… and then… well.

Arcady: Yes. Well.

Zene: And then the stuff really hit the fan, to put it politely.

Arcady: To put it more mildly than you usually would.

Zene: The book’s intensity went up by an order of magnitude at that point; rarely have I ever witnessed such a brilliantly quick crescendo. And to tell the truth, that was just when the body of the work needed it—I was getting a little worried that we wouldn’t get to the answer to the statement of the theme.

Arcady: Yes, I rather liked that it became a criminal investigation. A most excellent touch. Very Agatha Christie, but with personality. And a hot violinist at the center of it all, of course.

Zene: I entirely did not expect the final bars of this piece.

Arcady: I did.

Zene: … yes, but you’re you, and you have a twisted mind. I’m a pretty good reader, and I was taken completely by surprise. But if I looked back, the melody was there, all along—hidden in the chocolate-cake-like density and texture of the plot interleaved with the character relationships. At the end, I felt completely rewarded.

Arcady: I also, the catharsis was excellent. I love how Patry Francis tied all the themes together into her finale—not overstated, but no less compelling.

Zene: We *beep* loved this book.

Arcady: And let me tell you, Zene feels very strongly when he says *beep*. We did love this book, though.

Zene: To pieces:

Arcady: Like listening to the best of Beethoven, threaded through with the tenacity of Wagner….

Zene: What he said.

Arcady: And of course, there was a hot violinist and she was the most important character. A brilliant sonata of a character.

Zene: … uh, yeah, Arcady. I think Jeanne Cross probably played a big role too. I think they were like yin and yang. You can’t have counterpoint with just one.

Arcady: True enough.

Zene: If there was just one thing I could change about the book, it would be… oh heck with it. I’m not going to spoil it for you.

Arcady: Oh, come on. There’s not one thing you’d change.

Zene: No, I guess you’re right.

Arcady: Anyways, we think a true connoisseur of tapestry-woven tales would enjoy this book.

Zene: As well as folks who just want a ripping good yarn with great character work. This book is all about character.

Arcady: So buy this book!

For more information about the author, visit her website, http://www.patryfrancis.com/.

Zene: There’s also a book trailer on YouTube.

Arcady: So check Patry Francis and The Liar’s Diary out.

Zene: You won’t regret it. Unless you don’t read it.

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