BRAT FARRAR

I’d read two other Josephine Tey books years ago, The Daughter of Time and The Franchise Affair, and enjoyed them in a casual way, but this one knocked my socks off. I picked it up after reading some rave mentions from trusted sources (“ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS EVER” tends to get my attention) and devoured it in just a few Metro rides. It’s right up my alley, not so much a mystery novel as a dark and suspenseful twist on the cozy-and-quirky-and-brilliant-family comedies of manners so blessedly plentiful in the early twentieth century, which are of course like catnip to me:

“Don’t eat out of the point of your spoon, Jane.”
“I can’t mobilize the strings out of the side.”
Jane looked across at the twin, negotiating the vermicelli with smug neatness.
“She has a stronger suck than I have.”
“Aunt Bee has a face like a very expensive cat,” Ruth said, eying her aunt sideways.
Aunt Bee privately thought that this was a very good description, but wished that Ruth would not be quaint.