Bobby Underwood's Reviews > The Gabriel Hounds

It is so rare that I find a book such a waste of my time that I don’t finish it, and even less often that I feel a need to explain why, as a warning to other readers who may be sucked in by so many high ratings. Normally, I have an aversion to reviews written by a reader who failed to read the entire book, so take the fact that I have decided to write about the experience as an added warning of how tedious a read I eventually found this to be.

On the surface, it sounds fantastic, some intrigue in an exotic setting, a bit of second-cousin romance thrown in, and all by a rather famous author beloved by many. It is anything but fantastic. Mary Stewart uses some beautiful descriptive prose to mask how dreadfully slow-moving the narrative is, and how gossamer the nearly non-existent plot. Pages and pages of loveliness where nothing happens turn into — more pages and pages of loveliness where nothing happens. There is almost no movement at all here, a vibrant and colorful portrait which has no layers, no hidden depth, and more importantly, does not entertain as romantic suspense, or mystery. This is dreadful, perhaps more so because of how beautifully Stewart can set the table for the reader. The apprehension comes when we sit down at the colorfully arranged table and realize there is nothing to eat, and the anger when we realize there is never going to be.

I can’t remember at what page I finally stopped reading this artfully described dribble, but by the time what should have been an exciting scene of danger was described like all the other scenes — meticulously but with no movement or excitement — I began perusing ahead, reading sections, until finally realizing how empty and superficial the painting Stewart so meticulously rendered was beneath the surface. The best part of this book is the opening, which promises so much. A second-cousin romance between somewhat spoiled young people, Damascus and Lebanon, a secretive and eccentric relative where surely a great mystery hides. It sucks you in, and with each page, Stewart continues setting the table, yet never brings out the meal. I was perhaps a dozen pages from 100 by the time Christabel even made it to Dar Ibraham to speak with Aunt Harriet, who has patterned her life after Lady Hester Stanhope. Then nothing happens again for a very long time and it’s dreadfully boring. The reader keeps thinking that it has to get better, there has to be a point where lightning strikes, things are revealed, the narrative begins to have some movement — nope.

Having recently read a Martha Albrand novel only half the length of this one, which was also a book of romantic intrigue and danger in a colorful — albeit slightly less exotic — setting, I couldn’t help but have a greater appreciation for Albrand. Unlike Stewart, she picked out a smaller canvas on which to paint her exciting and colorful adventure, giving it great movement and just enough atmosphere to suggest the beauty in which the danger and excitement was taking place. Stewart picked out a large canvas on which to paint her story, filling it with rich and vibrant colors which draw you to it on the wall. But when you get closer, you realize the splash of color is all there is, and then suddenly you turn to Albrand’s smaller canvas hanging next to it. You realize there is excitement suggested in her economical brush strokes, the larger romantic mystery painted on the smaller canvas alive with danger and movement. Albrand’s painting has a life beneath the surface, even if it’s just as entertainment. Stewart’s does not, it is all splash and color to distract you from the truth that her painting has nothing to say. And it’s boring.

My first instinct was to give this three stars so as not to skew the rating, since in fairness I couldn’t finish this — or rather chose not to waste any more time on it — but I simply can’t. I’m giving this two stars, and I suggest anyone thinking of reading this book, read the other two star reviews as well before you make your decision. Reading tastes are different, and others may enjoy this. Just be forewarned, it’s pretty, but it just lays there…and never moves…