The Swifts: A Dictionary of Scoundrels - A Review

Who can resist a book about scoundrels? (Is that the weirdest looking word?)

Last week, my post was all about titles and names.

Today’s book review is the perfect tie-in: THE SWIFTS: A Dictionary of Scoundrels written by Beth Lincoln and illustrated by Claire Powell.

About the Book

Title: The Swifts: A Dictionary of Scoundrels
Author: Beth Lincoln
Publisher: Dutton Books for Young Readers (February 7, 2023)
ISBN-10: 0593533232
ISBN-13: 978-0593533239
Available at amazon.com.

It’s Beth’s debut novel and already a NYT bestseller!

The story follows Shenanigan Swift and her odd-ball family members, every one of whom are randomly named at birth by their parents flipping through a dictionary.

Shenanigan’s sisters are Phenomena and Felicity.

They have an Aunt Schadenfreude (frankly, the author had me hook, line, and sinker at that name).

Another aunt named Inheritance.

There’s a fellow named Pampelmousse, another named Candour, an Uncle Maelstrom, twins named Flora and Fauna.

For people who like words, this is your jam…your tea and biscuits…your milk and honey.

One of the themes is: does one acquire one’s personality by nature or nurture and what role does one’s name play in the whole thing?

Would Shenanigan still be full of pranks and antics if she were named Sally?

Would Phenomena still be a scientist if she were named Madison?

I LOVE that idea.

So all these family members gather at the House every ten years for a reunion and to try to find the treasure buried decades ago by Grand Uncle Vile.

As with any good (fictional) reunion in a house, there is much madcap mischief, mayhem, and, yes, a murder to solve.

Even an almost murder.

There’s even a duel to the death with…Scrabble!

Come on!

This story is full of hi-jinks, laugh-out-loud absurdity, and a romping good time.

It will have you questioning your own given name and, quite possibly, your motives at your next family reunion.

My name means nothing.

The story goes that my parents were going to call me Gil if I was a boy.

But, lo and behold, I was not.

So they shoehorned an “a” in there, and, voila, Gail.

My sister, Tammy, was actually Tamar, which means palm tree in Hebrew.

She was not a palm tree.

No. We don’t have middle names so the buck stops at our first names.

My book characters have names that are meaningful only to me.

There’s April, so named because her mother was named May and, as we know, once a child is born (whether that’s you or your own children), the parent is secondary.

Then there’s Teller (a dog).

He got his name when he was taken in by a bookstore owner whose cat named Teller had recently died and the collar and name tag were available.

Benedetta is a character from some Netflix series we watched.

I simply liked the sound of it.

I have a friend who named her daughter after a Roald Dahl character.

A lot of people I know bear family names that have been passed down.

How about your name?

Anyway, I’ve run off the rails.

Go pick up a copy of The Swifts.

You won’t regret it.

Until next time, have a wonderful life.

~ Gail