Coupland always makes the mundane profound.
“Tough-guy writer with a sappy streak.”
That NYT review sums up Burke, one of America’s greatest living writers, perfectly.
I though I’d read all his stuff, came across this and mistook it for an earlier work I’d missed. It’s pretty new.
Here’s hoping Burke has a lot of writing left in him. Much as I love his Robicheaux work, I’m looking forward to even more of Billy Bob Holland and his ancestors.
Not quite up to Fatherland status, but a very solid Alternative History entry, made all the more interesting by its solid portrayal of Japanese society.
Tight, concise, skilled writing, but the overall effect is more like taking your Suzuki Estilete moped in for routine maintenance than taking it to the top of a high, steep hill in the forest and gliding down the slope with your eyes closed, hands off the handlebars, and gulping in huge draughts of cool, sweet menthol scent of pine into your soul.
My first Amis. Devastating juxtaposition of the domestic and the insane. Masterfully exposes not just the banality of evil, but also the venality.
Absolutely charming murder investigation set on the line between modern-day and traditional Ghana. Read it.
Philip K Dick may be the greatest science fiction ever, but I had to give up on this one halfway through. I almost never do that with a book.