I’ve been enjoying Lynda La Plante’s series featuring the young Jane Tennison. I loved the original English Prime Suspect TV series also but the somewhat sexist environment of the 1990s is nothing compared to the police service in the 1970s.
My main complaint regarding both earlier books in this series (Tennison & Good Friday) was that they featured two separate crimes – ultimately merging in some way and I felt they really didn’t need the complexity and we readers didn’t need the distraction.
I like to think my exacting opinions and informed literary reflections (*ahem*) made it through to La Plante because this book is centred around ONE CRIME. (And I loved it!)
This is a really hard review to write. For most of this book I was blown away by Kate Van Hooft’s writing and her metaphorical and bewilderingly beautiful prose.
I was waiting for the climax – which I knew was coming from the backcover blurb – but it was very late in eventuating. And then the book finished. And I have no f*cking idea what happened.
I was just going to call this post, What Comes Next, but a vague sense of deja-vu niggled at me and sure enough, I’d written a post called exactly that in November 2011.
It wasn’t – as this post is – about work, my professional life and the ‘direction’ I take, rather it was written almost a month after my father passed away so instead pondered on the melancholy enveloping me at the time.
But, here I’m talking less traumatic events. Like my impending unemployment and life on the streets.
My version of Little Liar by Lisa Ballantyne is not actually out until February 2019, but as I’ve had a copy sitting in my e-reader for a while I decided to go ahead and read it. And I’m certainly glad I did.
I’ve talked before about the fact I sometimes have a million browser screens open on my phone at any one time as I click on Facebook links to read articles of interest. If they require further pondering they’ll usually remain open for days. Or weeks… as I try to wrap my mind around concepts or understand my own weird and random reactions.
Interestingly I read two such articles on the weekend. Well, they were about the same thing. One (via Tiny Buddha) was a lighter take on the subject… of changing our identity – the author talking about going from the workplace to become a wife / partner, to mother and potentially an empty-nester – and so forth. The other (via No Sidebar), was the one that caught my attention and more about the fact we often ‘need’ to shed old identities in order to move forward with our lives.
There’s something different about this book. It’s certainly enjoyable. In fact, at several points I assumed it was going to go down a certain route and was surprised. Again and again. Not by the twists as such but by the author (Megan Abbott’s) decisions to not head in an obvious direction and her ability to make her characters nice and not-so-nice at the same time.
I’d had this book for a while before tucking into it Saturday evening in the bath. I wasn’t too sure it was for me, though I’m not sure why. Perhaps some antipathy towards what felt like ANOTHER book about small town or rural Australia? I’m not sure.
But… holy shit, this book blew me away! I was hooked from the get-go. The opening scene (prologue) is great. And kinda dire. The writing is excellent, the plot intriguing and the lead character, Martin is both enigmatic and very (very) real all at once.