Thursday, July 11, 2024
Those We Thought We Knew by David Joy
So, there's a case to be made that reading a crime novel set in mountain-rural North Carolina the night after reading one set in rural Florida is much of a muchness, but ... as it turns out there are severe differences in extent and kind, here. This is much more noirish than I was expecting, and much more steeped in grief and like generational pain, and the title is one of the most apt I've come across in a while. This has that licking live-wires feeling that I can't resist running through it. There are times when it some of the characters seem to have the right words to appropriately flummox other more thoughtless characters, which does become jarring after the second or third instance, but that's the only nit I can pick. I will be looking for Joy's other novels.
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Episode Thirteen by Craig DiLouie
This is labeled as an epistolary novel, but that's not entirely right. There are entries that could not possibly have been written, fr...
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I read this book like thirty years ago (ack!) when I was in college, and I remembered liking it, and when my wife picked it as a classic-i...
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The cover text calls this something like "one of the most important novels" blah blah blah. It's not a novel, it's a disc...
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Not a novel, which ... well ... some of the events described in the book would stretch credulity in fiction. It's a book about the lie...
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