[.ca] Death On A Silver Tray (ISBN 042517946X)

Won Agatha for best first novel:
The mystery genre tends to be focused in the present. The sub-group of historical mysteries is growing and its always nice to have another series. The most distict thing about this novel is its setting - London during the early 19th century, a period know as the Regency. Romance readers are probably more than familiar with the decadence of the era but based on the other reviews, it is a breath of fresh air for mystery readers. Having read more than a few romances about the era, it's not so new for me. Also, Stevens' presents a group of people who value things that I have a hard time relating to on a personal basis. So, the setting doesn't do much for me. It also took me a while to warm up to our slueth, George "Beau" Brummel. Based on the real person who was the leader of fashion at the time, Stevens has found an unusual slueth. He spends hours on his wardrobe, worries excessively about what people will think about anything he does or wears or says. Modest he is not. Does he work as a slueth? Maybe. I just didn't like him very much, particularly at first. The actual mystery - who killed the cranky widow - is pretty plain vanilla stuff. The killer makes sense in the end but the clues are few and far between. Many of the clues are dropped by the cat in a manner that is straight out Braun's "The Cat Who..." series. Bottom-line: Thumbs up to Stevens for trying something different in the mystery genre. Readers may or may not take to Beau. Still, the book is certainly a pleasant enough read for readers to see if they like him for themselves.

Style Without Substance:
In the Regency era of Great Britain, there was one arbiter of fashion, and that was Beau Brummell, who lived high, wide and handsome for as long as possible before his debts caught up with him, his aristocratic friends abandoned him, and he died in poverty. But in 1805, he ruled Society, and he was capable of starting a fashion or exiling a social climber from the invitations of the ton. Rosemary Stevens takes her experience writing four romances set in this period to craft a mystery that's hews strictly to the ruts of the genre. Everything else about the novel delights: the details of Brummell's life, the fastidioius attention paid to his dress and the design around his life, his sudden inspirations and manuverings through the pitfalls of his position. Historical novels like these offer a pleasant immersion into a society and its beliefs, and while one mustn't go too far in praising this book -- there's still plenty of room on the shelf for a Regency novel with the breadth and penetration that, say, "The Alienist" performed on 1880s New York City -- "Death on a Silver Tray" surpasses expectations. Where it falls apart is in the mystery. In short, there is none so much as to be worth noticing, and the reader turns the pages and enjoys the sights and waits for Beau to stumble on the next obvious clue. There are even the usual folderal scenes that most debut mystery novelists have been warned to avoid. A Bow Street Runner (police that is) warns Beau not to Get Involved In The Case. Beau receives threats in the mail. There's even a Siamese cat who could be an ancestor of Lillian Jackson Braun's Koko and Yum-Yum. It may be unseemly to offer such objections to a book with such lightweight intentions, but the late Kate Ross' books about Julian Kestrel show just how good a book set in this era can be.

Regency and Mystery-Excellent Combo:
Beau Brummell decided what and who was fashionable in Regency England. Most Regencies describe him as a rather one dimensional character. Ms. Stevens has quite rightly made him the center of a mystery series, much as he was the center of the fashionable world of his time. He is asked by his dear friend, the Duchess of York, to clear a protegee of hers of the murder of her employer. The woman was exceedingly unpleasant, and was even rumored to have beaten her servants. The night before her death, Lady Wrayburn was incensed with Miss Ashton for inadvertantly telling her that her ladies' maid was pregnant. Now all of London thinks that Miss Ashton is the murderer. To save the Duchess' reputation and to assist the young women, the Beau agrees to help. He even loses a painting at auction, having been distracted by the problem. The winner of the auction, a representative of the King of Siam, presents him with the first Siamese cat in England. The famous valet, Robinson, is not happy about cat hairs, but Brummell can not return him. The cat seems to be an ancestor of Lillian Jackson Braun's KoKo, an able assistant in solving a difficult murder. This was an excellent mystery. The characters are familiar ones for those who have read regencies, and very well developed. The mystery was engrossing and difficult to solve. I am looking forward to reading the next book in the series.

Hang it all, it's too cute not to LOVE . . .:
Look, if I can love this blasted little romp, ANYONE cat, er, can. And I'm not a cat person, but that's beside the point . . . DEATH ON A SILVER TRAY is written in the First Person. You need to appreciate that because it extracts a certain effect which works irritatingly well (or did on me) in spite of the fact that I generally detest the presence of the writer inserting himself into my story, and am even less inspired to become engaged in a murder plot that can't even take itself seriously. But I think the narrative voice chosen (supported in no small measure by an imperiously ambivalent Siamese cat) is, ironically, what makes the book work so well. Chagrined as I am to say this, one sits down to this book examining a plate of chocolate sweets. And discovers only after the fact that they have just consumed an excellent, satisfying meal that will stay with them. The vanity of the narrator is so ubiquitous that the pace of the story rushes behind like an excitable hairstylist with a pair of scissors. Brummel's vanity knows no shame! and the effrontery of his appealing to your sympathies in the First Person is riotously funny. You'll discover yourself bonding with Brummel even as you hate yourself for doing it. Even the cat is lifelike and soft. You'll . . . you'll want one dammit. There is the deceased, of course. Something of an afterthought squeezed between the latest fashionable sedan wood and, er, cat dander. I laughed so hard at choice points throughout this book I found myself turning to the back sleeve incredulously, wondering how the author could have earned my respect in spite of myself. I found myself saying, "This confounded, damnable little book . . . why can't I put it down? It's useless. I can't even take it seriously." And that, dear friends, is precisely the point. Read this book when you've been sad. Let the book make you laugh. And with any luck you'll be laughing at yourself in the end. There's a bit of Brummel in all of us, hang it all. Skye

Foppish entertainment at its best:
What fun! Presenting the early 19th Century fop, Beau Brummel, as a sleuth to be taken seriously would most likely have produced a miserable flop but this little book, written in first person, is first-order delight. The character of Brummel is quite consistent; he's unable to take anything seriously except himself and how he presents himself to society. Vain, self-centered, proud and so shallow that he is almost shocking, Beau Brummel is the most pretentious and self-righteous character we've seen in a long time. He's also sensitive and thoughtful of others; traits that round out his character. And it's this character that makes the book so charming. The story is totally forgettable -- this is a character-driven tale set against a charming, historic background. You could read a lot into it as an indictment of society if you want to stretch a bit, but it's much too much fun to spoil with such seriousness. If you're in the mood to be entertained, this is the book for you.