The Kitty Party Murder

I tried to like this novel, I really did. The story seemed intriguing and the book started out quite entertaining. But I finished it with difficulty.

The frequency of idiomatic language and metaphor was jarring after a while - how I hate people who call their partner “the spouse”, “the man” or children “the fruit of my womb” instead of according them names and sticking to it. I get that the author was being humourous and trying to match the “tongue in cheek” humour that you encounter in British authors, but it comes across as unnecessary when every second line is filled with it.

Also, the portrayal of an urban, wealthy family put me off. The main characters are a mother who does little to bring up her only child, shows no interest in anything but gossip and spending money, who shames herself constantly for being overweight (and others for their various features), who seems stressed no matter how much household help she has; a husband who barely even talks to his family, who seems to have no personality; a child who comes across as a brat who will only eat junk food and boss his parents around - it's a portrayal that made me feel extremely relieved I don't have her problems to deal with. Are men really still talking to their wives like this, condescending and mean?

The plot could have moved much faster and I may have enjoyed it more if the characters had been more likeable and their world had been a little less frivolous.