Month: October 2018

Riversend, a Murray-Darling basis town scorched by drought: the revered local priest shoots five parishioners in broad daylight before being shot himself. A year later journalist Martin Scarsden arrives to resurrect his career with a “post-trauma” story and plunges into a classic whodunnit of wicked complexity. Author Chris Hammer has us walking in Scarsden’s shoes from the first page and unleashes the clever plot with assuredness. The rural cast of characters in “Scrublands” is evocative, the writing smooth and assured, the politics of a country town in decline well drawn. I was reminded of Peter Temple’s jigsaw-puzzle mysteries, a supreme compliment. Beyond the masterful genre mechanics and storytelling, Hammer (author of an award-winning travelogue through the drought-stricken areas) features the unforgiving landscape as a major character. Riversend is introduced thus: “the midday heat, ferocious and furnace-dry”; a river replaced by “a mosaic of cracked clay, baked and going to dust”; the heat “tugs at him, seeking his moisture.” For once let me recommend a rural murdery mystery ahead of city-based crime fiction: this is a resounding triumph.

Normal People threatened to rush past me, a book about young people in and out of love, a species of novel I rarely read, but rave opinions turned me round and I’m so glad they did. Set in Galway and Dublin, zigzagging between the lives of desperately “not normal” Marianne and Connell, the working class boy made good, as they weave in and out of each other’s ranges, this sophomore novel by Sally Rooney is a stunner. I dare any reader not to be captivated by the immersive spell cast through dense dialogue, often mordant and savage, and inner yearnings. Not a word is wasted. With the plot leapfrogging a few months every chapter, my heart was gripped while I tried to anticipate twists that invariably surprised. The ending is sublime. Normal People restores my faith in relationship novels.

The Life to Come won this year’s prestigious Miles Franklin Award and I can see why, for it’s a formidable literary work. This is author Michelle de Kretser’s second Miles Franklin and all six of her novels have gained critical acclaim as well as growing popularity. The Life to Come is her opus, a Tolstoyian cavalcade of five intermeshed characters: sharp-penned author George in Sydney; Sri Lankan Ash with Cassie; translator Celeste in Paris; my favorite character, endlessly ambitious wannabe writer Pippa, shallow yet somehow rapier eyed; and sluggish Sri Lankan spinster Christabel at home and then in Sydney. They know love, they experience aloneness, they interpret each other. The supporting cast of characters number in the dozens and the contemporary settings spring to life on the pages. de Kretser writes stunningly accomplished, dense yet light prose, at its best when savagely funny or acutely emotional. I’ve read most of her oeuvre and have oftentimes found the plots eventful but somehow sapped of drama, and a couple of the book’s sections threatened to sag under the weight of not much, but the final two plot arcs are highly satisfying. An antidote to my more routine reading fare, The Life to Come is a rich work of art.

Michael Lewis is Hercules to us geeks, someone who views the world through the lens of data and analysis, but with a storyteller’s heroic gaze. His mind seems to range across the panoply of human ambitions and his approach is forensic yet his touch is light. The Fifth Risk at first seems to be a magazine commission’s offshoot and something slight, a look at the havoc wrought by Trump’s staggering disregard of the machinery of government, but as Lewis traipses down the corridors of DOE, USDA, DoC, NOAA and so on (let me baffle you with acronyms, so you head to buy this to check out what the public service heroes of America are really doing), one’s jaw drops and then crashes to the floor. And Lewis, our shining light, is not, of course, merely cataloguing one president’s wilful ignorance and disregard, he analyzes the nature of the societal risks posed by government’s such as Trump’s. Not only is The Fifth Risk endlessly fascinating, it is, as ever, a jaunty, deceptively casual and entertaining read. If you read one “tell me what Trump is really like” book in 2018, make it this one.

A cross between Carl Hiaasen’s madcap plotting and Adrian McKinty’s scurrilous Irish humor, Caimh McDonnell now closes off his wonderful hybrid mystery Dublin Trilogy with Last Orders, which kicks off with madman Bunny McGarry’s funeral and spirals into a dense, highly Irish plot. Goofy yet sympathetic characters abound, with even the walk-on roles offering pleasure (check out Agent Dove with the metal arm!). Dublin and its pubs and environs is wonderfully brought to life, the humor bubbles, and an alert intelligence underpins what can seem like an out-of-control plot. It took me half a book’s reading to sink into McDonnell’s flow but once I did, I was hooked. A highly recommended, imaginative, enjoyable read.