Monday 17 June 2019

[Review] Honeysuckle Weeks in 'The Sentence is Death'

'The Sentence Is Death' is Horowitz’s fast-paced sequel to 'The Word Is Murder.' In both mysteries, he mashes up fact and fiction, telling the story through a character based closely on himself.
Buy the book here

Author Anthony Horowitz (the fictional author of the real book) is in a spot of bother: filming of the latest scene of Foyle’s War (which in fact he wrote in real life) isn’t going to plan and he’s running behind on his (fictional) novel detailing the first case he investigated with Daniel Hawthorne (as detailed in the real 'The Word Is Murder'). He soon finds those issues paling into insignificance when Hawthorne enlists his help in a new case.

When Honeysuckle Weeks (a character in this real novel but also a leading actress on 'Foyle's War') steps off a bus during the filming of a scene, a taxi pulls up, ruining the take, and out steps private eye Daniel Hawthorne. Finally, a completely fictional character!

Lawyer Richard Pryce has been found bludgeoned to death. Oddly, as Pryce was a teetotaller, the murder weapon was a bottle of wine. A bottle of wine worth £3,000 to be precise. What was the meaning of Pryce’s last words? And why did someone paint a 3-digit number in green paint on the wall next to his body?

Horowitz and Hawthorne are a team: Hawthorne solves a crime and Horowitz tags along, taking notes in order to write a book. The set-up is a bit like the television series Castle, where successful mystery novelist Richard Castle tags along with an NYPD homicide detective Kate Beckett. But Horowitz just can’t help himself — he thinks he can outsmart Hawthorne and solve the mystery. And so he interrupts interviews by asking questions at the wrong moment, draws conclusions that simply muddy the waters, and comes close to tipping off the murderer.

Just as in 'Foyle’s War', there are twists and turns and unexpected developments. The fact-fiction blurring even continues to the last page when Horowitz (the author, the character, both?) thanks his wife Jill Green, his publisher and — Daniel Hawthorne in the acknowledgments.

Well, you see, both the blurb and the reviews are in awe of this book. I'm not.

I got the distinct impression that Anthony Horowitz tried too hard, did too many rewrites, and couldn't escape his former self as a young adult writer.

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