(Amelia Peabody #3)
It's not you, it's me.Ok, I'll admit. I struggled to finish this one and was pretty eager to see it end. Though I've only had time and energy to read before bed lately, I was "okay" with putting The Mummy Case down far too quickly; picking it up again seemed to be a chore, not a delight.
The first novel, Crocodile on the Sandbank, was what lured me into the series in the first place. I enjoyed the witty repartee between Emerson and Peabody; I could relate to Peabody, and found Emerson totally entertaining. And the mystery aspect of Crocodile was attention-grabbing enough to keep me reading with interest. The second novel (The Curse of the Pharaohs) ...meh, not so much. And this third one, even less captivating than the second. Not that Peters isn't a good writer. Not that the characters aren't amusing (although, for me, I found the series started to lag once Ramses the Egyptologist wunderkind was introduced). Something was just... lacking.
I suppose it's the fact I don't really enjoy reading so much light-hearted banter and goings-on amidst a mystery. Perhaps it's the serious-toned, dreadful mysteries I prefer (a la Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, Anne Perry). Perhaps light-hearted mysteries aren't my cup of tea?
Either way, it's not you, Elizabeth Peters – it's me…
Nevertheless, I am willing to read the next novel in the Amelia Peabody series, at some point in time, hoping that my stick-to-itiveness will be rewarded and my interest in the rest of the series will be rekindled.
