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So, this is actually two weeks – three weeks? I'm not even sure – worth of books, since I haven't managed to post lately. Therefore these reviews might be a bit shorter than usual. Also, I will totally do a 2015 reading roundup post. Soon. Really.

What did you just finish?
The Land Shall Be Deluged In Blood by Patrick H. Breen. A nonfiction account of Nat Turner's rebellion (a slave rebellion in 1831 Virginia). Breen focuses as much on the trials and aftermath as the rebellion itself, which is a fair choice, since despite its large repercussions, the rebellion only actually lasted about two days and probably involved no more than forty or fifty people at its height. Breen does a good job of exploring how other black people, both free and enslaved, reacted to the rebellion – a few chose to join, a few threw in with their masters, and many avoided making any choices at all. He also lays out the white reaction, since many of the richest and most powerful men in the area in fact minimized the retribution, since after all executing a rebel meant losing a valuable piece of property, if you were a slave owner. This in turn led to disagreements between the rich and poor whites of the area over how to understand and respond to what had happened.

Breen also does a good job in discussing the image of the rebellion since it had happened, and getting back to the original sources. He lays out what has become 'common knowledge' that in fact never happened, and what did happen that has been forgotten. Overall a good book if you're interested in the topic, but probably too academic to be worth it if you're not already engaged.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.

Hannah Mary Tabbs and the Disembodied Torso: A Tale of Race, Sex, and Violence in America by Kali Nicole Gross. In 1887, in a small town just outside of Philadelphia, a human man's torso was found dumped in a pond. It quickly became front page news as doctors and police struggled to identify the victim, or even determine what race he had been: black? white? asian? native american?

Eventually the body was revealed to be that of Waite Gaines, a young mixed race (which, of course, by the one-drop rule of the time, meant he was considered black) man, and Hannah Tabbs, an older black woman with whom he was probably having an affair, was accused of the murder. Gross uses the investigation to explore questions of race and gender during the last moments of Reconstruction. Gaines at least occasionally seems to have passed for white, and Tabbs frequently broke the rules to get what she wanted while skillfully manipulating those around her, particularly white authorities, into seeing a properly submissive, respectable black woman.

It's an interesting case. Unfortunately it suffers from the problem that a lot of historical nonfiction has: there's simply not enough of a record to answer all the questions. Nearly all of the main actors disappear entirely from written history after this brief moment in the spotlight, leaving us to wonder where they came from and where they went next. It's not Gross's fault, since she can only write about what exists, but it does leave the book with an oddly unfinished feeling.
I read this as an ARC via NetGalley.

Cut to the Quick by Kate Ross. A Regency era murder mystery, the first in a series of four. Julian Kestrel is a popular dandy, the arbitrator of coolness in a circle of slightly risque upperclass men, the type who visit gaming hells and have mistresses. Julian is invited to an acquaintance's country house for a wedding, which quickly turns out to be not all that it seems – the bride's father, a wealthy businessman, is blackmailing the family to force them into the marriage. And then a dead girl turns up in Julian's bed, who everyone claims not to recognize, and Julian gets involved in the investigation to keep himself and his valet from being accused of murder.

Someone recommended this to me; it was long ago, long enough that I don't remember who it was or in what context. I have a vague memory that they said it was similar to the Ben January books, but I could be wrong. Anyway, I hope it was none of you, because it turns out that I didn't like the book very much. There's nothing in particular wrong with it, but it engages in all the cliches of Regency romance of the 90s (when, in fact, it was written) without the least critique or new twist to them. Julian is so cool and intimidating that shy young men become infatuated with him after one meeting. People say things to him like, "You'll cause more harm than you can begin to guess! But you don't care, do you?" She laughed bitterly. "A kestrel is a kind of falcon, isn't it? Mr. Kestrel, you were very aptly named for a bird of prey!" He has a charming young Cockney servant, who of course was a pickpocket until Julian rescued him from the street. Little girls declare that they want to marry him when they grow up, to which he responds, "Oh, I don't mind. I rather like making friends with women before they're old enough to be dangerous." I suppose at some point there must have been someone who found that sort of faux-respect charming and flirtatious, but it's always gotten on my nerves as the worst sort of condescension.

The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters. Another in the Amelia Peabody series of mysteries, which I am loving SO MUCH. In the 1890s, Amelia and her husband Emerson are English archaeologists working in Egypt, who are frequently interrupted from their excavations by inconvenient murders. In this book, the third in the series, they bring their young son Ramses with them on his first trip abroad. Their season is, of course, beset with many difficulties, from the suicide (or is it... MURDER?!?!) of a friendly antiquities dealer to being assigned an excavation site that neither of them is particularly interested in, along with the attentions of an amorous Russian prince and the distractions of a fashionable German noblewoman, and finally the local crazy collection of American missionaries. This book also has the first appearance of the "Master Criminal", and I have been just spoiled enough to know he continues to turn up in later books.

This series is hilarious, from the stubborn, self-righteous character of Amelia herself (though she is also brave and kind and intelligent; she reminds me a bit of a more forthright Sophy from The Grand Sophy or Flora from Cold Comfort Farm) to her relationship with the bluff (but secretly sentimental) Emerson, to the various bizarre caricatures that show up around them. The author is actually an archaeologist, and though there's not actually that much archaeological detail in the books themselves, you can see her love and amusement pouring through the writing. They're just fantastic stories, and I want more people to read them.

Cinnamon and Gunpowder by Eli Brown. Set in the 1810s, this is a novel about a French-trained cook kidnapped by the pirate captain Mad Hannah Mabbot and forced to make gourmet meals for her. The story is told through the diary of the cook, and there is (unsurprisingly!) tons and tons of food porn. Here he is attempting to make a curry sauce:
This morning I woke early to try again. There is no excuse not to; I never had spices half as fresh as those that Mabbot gave me, which sing even from their closed box.
A few of these were not ground, and I set to the task of rolling the cannonball over them. The missile serves for a pestle almost as well as it did for a rolling pin. If I ever work in a proper kitchen again, I may have to bring one along.
As if woken by the smell, Joshua arrived to help me, and soon we had freshly powdered cinnamon, mustard, and cloves to mix with the turmeric, cayenne, cumin, and ginger; curry is a multifarious potion.
As the cinnamon broke under the cannonball, it struck me that all I had to do was follow that one note, and it would show me where to go. We built it pinch by pinch and took turns sniffing at the pile, debating whether to sharpen it with a touch more mustard or anchor it with cumin. When we lost the cinnamon’s hum, we knew we had gone too far and had to turn back. This was no dead tiger. We were creating, we decided, a fabulous tree, and when we were done, we could smell cumin’s muddy roots, the callused bark of mustard, the pulsing sap of the turmeric, all the way up to the sunlit blossoms of cinnamon.
Such a rich dish demanded a bright counterpoint, and the papaya was just the thing. It was not quite ripe and so had the satisfactory crunch of a cucumber. The black seeds glistened like roe in its womb, and though Joshua didn’t like the smell of it, he was willing nevertheless to julienne the fruit and toss it with lime and a touch of honey. As the babirusa had been curing for such a short time, the flesh was very supple, and the thinnest slices, almost translucently pink, were reminiscent of a mild prosciutto. These streamers we tossed until they entwined sensually with the marinated papaya.
I must say that I’m delighted with the simple elegance of rice steamed with lemongrass.

So, yes, obviously I would love it just for that. But I also loved it because it's a bit of a fairy tale. Nothing magic or physically impossible happened, but it's the sort of book where a multiracial, multilingual pirate crew led by a woman sails the seas fighting injustice (in particular slavery and the opium trade), where one boat takes on the whole of the East India Company and wins. It's the world with a few wrongs righted, and it was just the sort of fun, comforting story that I love most of all.

The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo. A novel set in 1800s Malaysia. I'm not quite sure how to categorize it: it seems to be being marketed as straight-forward historical fiction, despite the presence of ghosts, demons, dragons, trips to the afterlife, and immortals all being major elements of the book. It has some of the feel of a romance novel, but the heroine doesn't actually end up with the guy she pines after for 3/4ths of the book, which would be a majorily weird twist for that genre.

So, that's what it's not. What is it, then? Li Lan is the only child of a formerly respectable but currently impoverished family of Chinese Malaysians. She receives a marriage proposal from the wealthy Lim family - but it turns out that it's for their recently deceased son. This wouldn't actually be a terrible situation, because such a "ghost bride" would be treated like any widow of the family, with all the benefits of their status and money. But on the other hand, if she accepts, she'll never have a husband or children of her own. It's further complicated by the fact that, when she visits the Lim house, she falls in love with the new heir.

While Li Lan is considering all of this, it turns out that she wasn't chosen for this proposal randomly. Rather, the dead son was obsessed with her in life, and now is haunting her as a ghost, invading her dreams, and draining her energy. He also insists that he was murdered by Li Lan's new love. Dealing with all of this eventually causes Li Lan's soul to become detached from her body, and she explores the world as a ghost, visits the Plains of the Dead, investigates a conspiracy involving the Judges of Hell, meets her dead mother, and deals with many other plot twists.

It's a cool idea for a book, and it definitely kept me turning the pages, despite a writing style that is littered with "as you know, Bob" infodumps. Here's an example from the first chapter, though it continues like this throughout the entire book:
"Yet compared to the villages in the jungle, Malacca remained the epitome of civilization. Despite the destruction of the Portuguese fort, we had a post office, the Stadthuys city hall, two markets, and a hospital. We were in fact the seat of British administration for the state. Still, when I compared it to what I had read of the great cities of Shanghai, Calcutta, or London, I was sure it was quite insignificant. London, as the District Office once told our cook's sister, was the center of the world. The heart of a great and glittering empire that stretched so far from east to west that the sun never set on it. From that far-off island (very damp and cold, I heard), we in Malaya were ruled.
But though many races – Malay, Chinese, and Indian, with a sprinkling of Arab and Jewish traders – had settled here for generations, we kept to our own practices and dress. And though my father could speak Malay and some English, he still looked to China for his books and papers."

It probably doesn't seem so bad excepted like that, but it got more and more annoying as the book went on, especially when she stopped to explain incredibly obvious things, like what dragons are or the names of types of food. But! Despite that, overall I'd recommend it. It's a fun book, if not hugely deep or surprising.

(Okay, I actually have two more books to review, but I've spent enough time writing this for now. Maybe next week!)

What are you currently reading?
The Good Lord Bird by James McBride. A novel about a young black boy who is mistaken for a girl, and ends up as one of John Brown's followers in pre-Civil War Kansas. Really good so far!