Days Without Number

I picked this up because it's set in places near my home in Cornwall, so I thought it would be fun -- & it is, great fun. It gets dinged one star because the sense of place is weak. Goddard drops real place names but fails to describe them in a way that would bring them to life for someone who hasn't been there.One reviewer said this isn't Goddard's best. If that's the case, then I'm in for a treat, because it's my first & I enjoyed it enough to want to read more Goddard. The plot is compelling & , delightfully, intelligent. Some of the spiritual & ethical questions raised by the book are fairly thought-provoking. Yet it's also a page-turning thriller. Quite an achievement.I was also impressed with the characters, who are well developed, especially the protagonist. Well worth the read.

This does not count amoung Goddard's best, but it is still interesting. Deception's behind deception's is the motto here.I found the ending although suspensefull, a bit of a let down.The historical side of the novel is intriguing though.

Robert Goddard's latest thriller seems to be written within the mould this perspicacious author has set himself. Perspicacious? Yes, well - Goddard is the kind of author who does tend to use archaic words, sending one scrabbling for a dictionary older than your average Macquarie or Oxford. You won't find `phocine' in any recent one, that's for sure. But will the hooked reader waste time searching for rare words? Perhaps not: these thrillers of Goddard have the habit of keeping one engaged, despite many twists and turns that have the mind simultaneously wanting more and wondering how on earth it's all going to clarify and tie up in the end. The curlicues and hairpin bends in this particular novel are of fine calibre: we have history, we have accuracy in props and language, we have archaeological detail the like of which will set even the most demanding reader's hair on end. Nick Paleologus (yes, even names have that unlikely ring to them, but seem to weave well into the warp and weft of it all) is the son of a retired archaeologist, with a family of siblings whose closet of skeletons is not exactly run of the mill suburban fare. Is it important that his family name is linked to the Emperors of Byzantium? Suspense of disbelief is necessary in most novels; here one widens the eyes and pleads for more. He has an irascible father, something many of us can relate to, seeing the comparatively recent time in which the novel is set. Irascible fathers were the order of the day then, and not only in England. The reader understands the cynical bent, the sardonic remarks, the pointed self-absorption that erases all else. The siblings too, are admirably drawn, especially the female ones and their sad choices in spouses, their mistakes with raising children, and bewilderment when faced with adolescent escapades coming home to roost. But what draws and amazes most in this book is the history, and the weave of known events into a convoluted story that impresses not only with its ability to thrill and make one turn pages, but especially with its ability to make one conjure and devise possible explanations. What a writer it takes to manage to persuade a reader of a possible historic explanation that sits there, dangling its possibilities under one's nose, swinging and tempting with seduction. What a way to devise a red herring. This method of charming an audience is perhaps foolproof, because it uses the reader's own bank of general knowledge. Who would not be persuaded to stay on to find out if their educated guess is right? Educated: the operative word here. These novels of Goddard's, and Days Without Number in particular, appeal to readers with a considerable bank of general knowledge, with a considerable love of those facts and figures, those nuggets of trivia, garnered over the years and necessary only - these days - when it comes to the vicarious pleasure of watching quiz shows. So one reads with pleasure, recalling stuff considered redundant, and taking plea

Days Without Number is crammed with enough surprises, twists, and suspense to keep the most blasé mystery reader guessing; a page-turner from beginning to end. The plot revolves around the Paleologus family, and the family house, Trennor, in Cornwall. The only member of the family living in the house is 84-year-old Michael, the father, and the story is told from the point of view of Nick, the youngest son, who returns to Cornwall at the request of his two sisters and two brothers. A stranger has made a fabulous offer for Trennor, well over the market value. Their father doesn't want to sell, but his adult children need the money. The offer has been conveyed by Elspeth Hartley, who explains its generosity; she says that because she and the man she represents believe an important historical relic is hidden in Trennor's walls. Nick joins with his brothers and sisters to try to persuade their father to sell, but before any decision can be made, a sudden death, followed by a macabre discovery in Trennor, a sinister anonymous communication, and disaster piled on disaster, lead Nick to the conclusion that someone is toying with his family, perhaps even conspiring to destroy them. Throughout the book, Goddard uses location and atmosphere to enhance the mystery and the feeling of doom. Each of the characters comes alive for the reader, especially Nick, whose tragic past is gradually revealed as the mystery plays out. He journeys to Scotland and to Venice in search of answers, especially the identities of his tormentors. He learns nearly everything before the book is finished, and undergoes profound changes in the course of his discovery. No one could forecast the end.