As I mentioned on last week’s #fridayreads, I’ve begun, at the behest and be-gifting of a friend, to read Alan Bradley’s first installment of the Flavia de Luce series, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. Flavia is a character I wish I’d known about growing up: with her glasses, pigtails, braces, and moderate sibling rivalry, she’s most of what I myself was at age eleven, minus several pounds and exhibiting several added points of badassery. The dialogue takes on an alternating Queen’s English and rustic cockney vernacular that makes it hard not to enjoy even the most wretched villains of the story, and its book trailer is charming to a fault, using no more than Bradley’s opening paragraphs to illustrate why it’s imperative you pick up a copy.
Then again, I’m probably telling you what you all already know.
Because as it happens, I am the last person I know to read this book. I suppose I’m not quite as behind on this trend as I am on the Hunger Games or the George R.R. Martin books, but pretty darn close to it. (Side note: have any of you ever seen Martin’s official website? I admit I thought I had stumbled onto a Game of Thrones fanfiction site at first. Given Martin’s fame, the design is both perplexing and endearing – note how the icons twirl when you hover over them.)