The sequel is out now and the review of the sequel actually sounds interesting to me. It spends a lot of time on John Dee, who is a person I’ve always found a heck of a lot more fascinating than that drab temptress, Anne Boleyn. After all, what did she do but seduce a starry-eyed dreamer, have a baby and get foreshortened for her troubles? (And before you start telling me all about how she was the mother of Queen Elizabeth, read the entry immediately preceding this one.) Dee, on the other hand, was all kinds of well-read, philosophical, and just a little bit batcrap crazy. He was also Welsh, and the Welshwoman in me feels a kinship–as, I suppose, also does the batcrap crazy in me.
Could this be my next good read? Or should I go with my first instincts after reading the first bit of Discovery a year ago and give it up as a too-good-to-be-true experience? Guide me, people! Guide me!