Author: Andres Kabel

Iain Ryan’s previous noir outing, The Student, featured a gormless, unlikeable character in an academic setting, thrust down a violent rabbit hole “The Spiral” has that much in common with its predecessor, only this time our protagonist Erma is a lecturer adept at martial arts and researching choose-your-own-adventure novels. After a colleague shoots her twice, nearly killing her, and then dies, Erma is left with unanswered questions that spur a twisting, semi-surreal plot that unfolds, slowly at first, before plunging into a classic noir hellishness. Erma is viscerally rendered; I disliked her from the get-go but was gripped by a desire to see her triumph against terrible odds. The author is a savagely realistic stylist, notable for pungent dialogue. The book’s blurb mentions Mullholland Drive; a seemingly bizarre feature is a parallel narrative inside a computer game, but even this feature resolves itself intelligently. Overall, The Spiral is a coruscating, white-knuckle adventure in adept hands, like a plunge into an Arctic ice hole.

The tone of “The Dictionary of Lost Words,” an ode to words and dictionaries and the impact of both on our inner and outer lives, is earnest, sweet, and surprisingly unadorned. In short, this debut novel by Australian Pip Williams should have set my teeth grinding. Indeed it took a third of the book for the underlying intelligence and subtlety of the unfolding yarn to grip me in its maw. The story of Esme, daughter of one of the lexicographers assembling and adjudicating the first Oxford English Dictionary at the turn of the Twentieth Century, amasses gravity as she grows from childhood into marriage, amidst World War I and, crucially, the suffragette movement. At a young age, she begins to collect unwanted words, which so often arose from women’s language and experiences, and eventually she moves to collect women’s word herself. Thus the closing half of The Dictionary of Lost Words escalates into an absorbing, affecting morality tale that resonates in our current times. Plus, of course, any book that celebrates words and their subtleties should be celebrated. Gentle and deep.

A sad reflection on the global food sector and the science (for what it is worth) of diet is the number of books pumped out claiming to “reveal the truth.” The truth is that nothing about food is incontrovertibly proven and all is distorted by governments, corporations, and individuals acting on self interest. My rant arises from the fact that I read way too many books offering solutions and advice; most of them, these days, get short thrift from me. But “Metabolical: The Truth About Processed Food and How It Poisons People and the Planet“,” by American doctor and activist and prolific writer Robert Lustig, strikes me as scientific as can be. Essentially, Lustig’s thesis (one echoed by many these days) is that the ultra-processed carbohydrates fed to us by the modern food system mess with our evolutionary bodies to our peril. Processed foods lead to all the modern health epidemics. Lustig takes care to not point the finger at obesity (according to him, some technically obese people do not need to lose weight, while some technically thin people dice with dietary death). He slams governments, the health profession, medicine, pharma, agriculture, and, of course, the food “manufacturers.” His answer is twofold: “protect the liver” and “feed the gut,” which he explains well but perhaps too briefly for the average reader (I am not sure I came away with clear notions on how to follow his rules). Overall, Metabolical is timely, well written, and an up-to-the-minute mix of science and polemic.

“How to Find Your Way in the Dark” is a coming-of-age tale with a dark patina. A year after the tragic death of his mother, thirteen-year-old Sheldon sees his father killed beside him after being run off the road by a malevolent thug, and the resourceful teenager embarks on a journey of revenge and growth. Set in the northeast states of America in the lead-up and start of World War II, author Derek B. Miller brilliantly evokes a fraught, gaudy time. Miller is an exuberant stylist with a knack for bantering dialogue, and most scenes, even the violent ones, are laced with comedic touches. I was reminded of the expansive sagas of E.L. Doctorow, embedding complex lives in rich historical settings, only more gung ho. Overall, this is a fast-paced, immersive read diminished only slightly by the author’s love of all his characters and settings, sometimes at the expense of tautness. If you enjoy memorable, resourceful heroes, embrace How to Find Your Way in the Dark.

Harry Saddler is one of those pure-hearted autodidacts you would love to know and chat with, but never can find. Reading his books, indeed plugging into his Twitter feed, is an undiluted pleasure. ”Questions Raised by Quolls: Fatherhood and Conservation in an Uncertain World“ is a far-ranging digression on matters existential and conservation-related, anchored by his investigations into Australia’s quolls. Quolls, short-lived, carnivorous mammals now close to extinction, sound fascinating (I’ve never seen one) and the author traces their near-extirpation through chronicling his family’s history and investigating conservation efforts. Another persistent thread is his earnest, almost plaintive pondering on whether to pursue fatherhood in the fraught Anthropocene era. Saddler is a natural, easy stylist, and his control of the narrative is sweet to experience. The natural world comes to life on the pages of Questions Raised by Quolls, a beguiling book I heartily recommend.