Even now, six years after the conclusion of an era that defined the collective childhood of an entire generation, the prospect of a new published work by J. K. Rowling is still cause for an unhealthy level of excitement for me; I suppose I've never stopped looking for the magic that ensnared millions elsewhere, particularly in the words of her other books. I wish I could truthfully say I was one of the brave few to have read The Cuckoo's Calling before news of Robert Galbraith's identity was leaked, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, I can't remember the last time I read a book that was not already relatively well-known and well-liked, or at least written by an established author.
Even without knowledge of Rowling's authorship coloring its pages, The Cuckoo's Calling is undoubtedly a masterfully written mystery. Conducted entirely through lengthy dialogue interspersed with artful metaphors and descriptions that took me straight to the streets of London, the ending, in typical Rowling fashion, is completely unexpected and utterly delightful in its unexpectedness (though, I confess, somewhat unsatisfactory). Rowling has a distinct writing style--dry humor weaves itself into its words and each character, dead or alive, is incredibly complex.
It's easy to see why the book was written under a pseudonym; The Cuckoo's Calling is clearly no Harry Potter and that's exactly the kind of comparison I'm sure Rowling was trying to avoid. Admittedly, I'm not sure I would have given a review as positive as this one if the author were truly an unknown man named Robert Galbraith. The novel is not without its flaws and I've certainly read mysteries more captivating than this one. Even so, there is a rumored sequel in the works. You can count on me to be the first in line to buy the book at its midnight release (or not, due to my perpetual state of poorness...college struggles).
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