I’ve feasted on this boy hero (or killer….) stuff all week. Meeting Andy McNab (or not?) and finally reading Joe Craig’s Jimmy Coates, and now I’ve polished off my active week with the latest Alex Rider. I suppose he’s proof that I’m not entirely sequel-proof, since I think this one might have been Anthony Horowitz’s eighth.
At first I found the ‘warming-up’ adventure in Scotland a little boring, to be honest. Although I was on a hot and crowded train for 100 pages, and maybe being slow-roasted made me slightly irritated. But it was soon back to normal, with Alex skipping school and almost getting killed in ten different ways in a very brief period of time. Again.
I suppose it’s what we like? Daughter wondered if the fact that Alex turns 15 means there will be no more? He could settle down with Sabina and grow wheat, or something.
Wouldn’t be surprised if charities now hate Anthony for opening our eyes to how easy it is for them to manipulate us and our feelings and more importantly, our wallets. Mind you, as your resident cynic I didn’t have far to go.
Crocodile Tears (that’s the title, btw) has yet another mad baddie, of the kind who conveniently sits down to boast to Alex at the end, so that we all learn exactly what’s been going on. Why do they all do that? From gambling in a Scottish castle to a GM lab in southern England and on to Kenya for the big finale. Even Mr Blunt is getting a little bit soft, and I wonder who Anthony based his new Prime Minister on? He’s an idiot.
Unlike Jimmy Coates, Alex may not set out to kill people, but he does, regardless. And for a blonde he’s quite intelligent and resourceful. Could we have him as a brunette next time, if there is a next time?