Finding new inflections in older books
One of the joys of audio is that it often breathes new life into older books. Though originally published in 1988, Lionel Shriver’s second novel, “Checker and the Derailleurs,’’ is energetic, unexpectedly revelatory, dates well, and is brashly charming.
The story is ostensibly about a rock ’n’ roll band in Astoria in the late 1980s, led by 19-year-old Checker Secretti, a charismatic and enigmatic burgeoning rock god. Checker is enigmatic for a reason, and that reason smacks you upside the head toward the end of the audiobook, when all the clues fall into place and you realize that Shriver built one story atop another. All in all, a clever piece of writing from a woman who went on to win the 2005 Orange Prize for Fiction.
Shriver quotes rock lyrics and comes up with a few interesting ones of her own. Narrator MacLeod Andrews mostly reads them, which seems a little jarring until he finally sings one snippet from a song and it becomes clear that reading is a better option. Other than this small flaw, he sounds young and confident or vulnerable and deflated when need be. He has clear diction, a spot-on sense of timing, and energy that underscores the dialogue without getting in the way.
Science fiction fans should take note of Robert J. Sawyer’s “Flashforward,’’ a thoughtful look at the worldwide reaction to a glimpse into the future.
Though the story starts out with a bang (actually an accident involving particle physics) it slows down until the ending is downright plodding and borders on the esoteric. This really could have benefited from a firm editor. Still, it is entertaining enough to plug in to. And it does make a nice companion to the ABC TV series on which it is based. Sawyer also gets credit for moving the point of view seamlessly from character to character.
Narrator Mark Deakins is clearly well trained. His voice is deep, somewhat resonant, and authoritative. He convincingly masters an international cast of characters and keeps the pace moving along. The only problem with the production is that the pauses between sections are not long enough.
Philippa Gregory’s “The White Queen’’ poses quite the dilemma. It is beautifully read by Bianca Amato and begins with lovely, mood-setting dulcimer music. Unfortunately, is it so severely abridged that only about half of the original remains.
Elizabeth Woodville was a widowed commoner with two sons when she married Edward IV of England and became queen consort. When Edward died she was called a witch and a hussy by her enemies, who swore that Edward was already married to another, thus rendering her children illegitimate. The crown went to her brother-in-law, Richard III. It has long been rumored that Richard killed Elizabeth and Edward’s two young sons, princes both, in the Tower of London, though nothing definitive has ever been proven.
Abridged or not, this was not Gregory’s strongest effort. And then there is the delightful Amato. The narrator does not change her voice for different characters, but simply reads, even if there is nothing simplistic about her delivery. Her voice can be tremulous with fear or steely with anger. Amato’s narration is mesmerizing and almost good enough to forgive the novel’s disappointments.
Rochelle O’Gorman is a syndicated audiobook reviewer. 
