3 audiobooks to whisk you away to other times and places

Washington Post

14-02-2025

Bessie Carter, best known in her role as 'Bridgerton's' waspish Prudence Dankworth née Featherington, here expands her repertoire marvelously. In Marie Benedict's engaging historical novel, Carter captures the personalities of the five most famous women detective novelists of the golden age of detective fiction. Each is distinctly herself in Carter's delivery: Agatha Christie, chastened by scandal; Margery Allingham, youthfully effervescent; Ngaio Marsh, no-nonsense New Zealander, with accent to prove it; Baroness Emma Orczy, lofty and commanding; and Dorothy L. Sayers, conveniently married to a Scottish reporter (his accent perfectly captured by Carter). It is 1930, and they have joined as members of London's recently formed Detection Club — whose male members frowned on accepting more than a couple of women. Undaunted, the five literary sleuths set about to prove their superior worth by solving an actual crime, the case of a murdered young nurse. What follows is an old-fashioned mystery, all events, clues and revelations adhering to the rules of fair play as set down by the club: No 'hocus pocus, trickeries, superstitions, epiphanies, acts of God, skulduggeries, or divine intervention.' (Macmillan, Unabridged, 10⅓ hours)
Bessie Carter, best known in her role as 'Bridgerton's' waspish Prudence Dankworth née Featherington, here expands her repertoire marvelously. In Marie Benedict's engaging historical novel, Carter captures the personalities of the five most famous women detective novelists of the golden age of detective fiction. Each is distinctly herself in Carter's delivery: Agatha Christie, chastened by scandal; Margery Allingham, youthfully effervescent; Ngaio Marsh, no-nonsense New Zealander, with accent to prove it; Baroness Emma Orczy, lofty and commanding; and Dorothy L. Sayers, conveniently married to a Scottish reporter (his accent perfectly captured by Carter). It is 1930, and they have joined as members of London's recently formed Detection Club — whose male members frowned on accepting more than a couple of women. Undaunted, the five literary sleuths set about to prove their superior worth by solving an actual crime, the case of a murdered young nurse. What follows is an old-fashioned mystery, all events, clues and revelations adhering to the rules of fair play as set down by the club: No 'hocus pocus, trickeries, superstitions, epiphanies, acts of God, skulduggeries, or divine intervention.' (Macmillan, Unabridged, 10⅓ hours)
Ex-Chicago police detective Carrie Starr, of mixed Native American descent, has just become U.S. marshal for a large but sparsely populated Oklahoma reservation. Shattered by the murder in Chicago of her daughter, she moves through her days numbed by whiskey and weed. She feels no interest in her job of looking into the cold cases of the many young women who have disappeared from the reservation. Confronted by a new case, she is less engaged at first than she is spooked by the occasional apparition of a ghostly woman with antlers. Yes, there is a supernatural element here, one connected, it emerges, to the appallingly frequent abuse and unsolved murders of Native American women. The plot grows infinitely complicated, drawing in oil companies, developers, a nearly extinct bug, yet another dead woman, an embezzling town official and whiskey in quantities that only fictional detectives can handle. Isabella Star Lablanc, herself of Native American ancestry, narrates the novel in a clear voice that alters slightly but convincingly to take in dialogue from different speakers. (Penguin, Unabridged, 9⅔ hours)
Ex-Chicago police detective Carrie Starr, of mixed Native American descent, has just become U.S. marshal for a large but sparsely populated Oklahoma reservation. Shattered by the murder in Chicago of her daughter, she moves through her days numbed by whiskey and weed. She feels no interest in her job of looking into the cold cases of the many young women who have disappeared from the reservation. Confronted by a new case, she is less engaged at first than she is spooked by the occasional apparition of a ghostly woman with antlers. Yes, there is a supernatural element here, one connected, it emerges, to the appallingly frequent abuse and unsolved murders of Native American women. The plot grows infinitely complicated, drawing in oil companies, developers, a nearly extinct bug, yet another dead woman, an embezzling town official and whiskey in quantities that only fictional detectives can handle. Isabella Star Lablanc, herself of Native American ancestry, narrates the novel in a clear voice that alters slightly but convincingly to take in dialogue from different speakers. (Penguin, Unabridged, 9⅔ hours)
Corren's memoir of his mother, Renay, is a peerless exercise in seedy realism, verbal pyrotechnics and savage wit. The author, youngest of Renay's six children, is a virtuoso of trash talk and a connoisseur of the sordid. He narrates the book in his own high-pitched, Carolina-accented voice, beginning in Fayetteville, North Carolina, in 1978, when he was 9, smitten with Donny Osmond but not yet realizing he was gay. He describes much of his life through influential literature: TV Guide, Judith Krantz, Jackie Collins, Dick Dale's 'Mr. Fancy Panties,' James Baldwin and Lillian Hellman. Beyond that, his youth was marked by evictions, petty crime, besotted servitude to his mother's comfort and her utter neglect of domestic matters. Despite the extravagant comedy and occasional mawkishness, Corren brings a deeply felt, revved-up emotional truth to his feelings that is genuinely moving. Part elegy, part philippic, this is a phantasmagoric portrait of a much-loved woman, a star in one of America's red-lit, drugged-out, porno-saturated, fast-food-fueled circles of hell. (Grand Central Publishing, Unabridged, 10 hours)
Corren's memoir of his mother, Renay, is a peerless exercise in seedy realism, verbal pyrotechnics and savage wit. The author, youngest of Renay's six children, is a virtuoso of trash talk and a connoisseur of the sordid. He narrates the book in his own high-pitched, Carolina-accented voice, beginning in Fayetteville, North Carolina, in 1978, when he was 9, smitten with Donny Osmond but not yet realizing he was gay. He describes much of his life through influential literature: TV Guide, Judith Krantz, Jackie Collins, Dick Dale's 'Mr. Fancy Panties,' James Baldwin and Lillian Hellman. Beyond that, his youth was marked by evictions, petty crime, besotted servitude to his mother's comfort and her utter neglect of domestic matters. Despite the extravagant comedy and occasional mawkishness, Corren brings a deeply felt, revved-up emotional truth to his feelings that is genuinely moving. Part elegy, part philippic, this is a phantasmagoric portrait of a much-loved woman, a star in one of America's red-lit, drugged-out, porno-saturated, fast-food-fueled circles of hell. (Grand Central Publishing, Unabridged, 10 hours)