I read and reviewed 68 books this year, quite a bit down on the c.100 I normally read. I did read quite a few others related to work, but the main transfer of reading was to subtitles as I watched a large number of non-English television programs and movies in 2020 (probably over 90% of what I viewed, which was also massively up on previous years as for the first time we ventured beyond the six terrestrial channels). Of the 68 books read, I rated 11 as five star reads and another 9 as four and a half star reads. In part this was because I re-read a number of books that left favourable memories, which I last read over two decades ago.
Eureka Street by Robert McLiam Wilson
A kind of love story for Belfast and its people. The story has a wonderful
sense of place and is full of pathos and humour as Chuckie and Jake try
to navigate being poor, working-class friends from different religions
in a city still riven with sectarian tension and violence. It’s
beautifully written and has a strong emotional resonance, with the story
switching from laugh-out loud moments to deep melancholy and tears. It
has as much relevance for understanding Northern Ireland now, as it did
then.
Neuromancer by William Gibson
Published in 1984, the tale has aged remarkably well given the centrality of digital technologies
to the storyline. It's a cyberpunk thriller that pits Case, a has-been hacker, and
Molly, a cyborg, street-smart samurai, against a powerful AI that serves
a shady business clan. Along with a whip-smart, intriguing and
well-paced plot, the prose is evocative and delightful. It’s easy to see
why the book won so many awards and how it became so influential in
shaping thinking about networked technologies and the worlds they
create. It remains an excellent, engaging, thought-provoking read.
A Capital Crime by Laura Wilson
A fictionalised account of the events at
10 Rillington Place, where two sets of murders occurred in the early
1950s, sending two men to the hangman. The first murderer was convicted
in part on the evidence of the second one, casting significant doubt on
the initial investigation, trial and guilty verdict. In
Wilson’s telling DI Stratton is the lead officer in both cases. The
result is a very nicely plotted tale that is very strong on exploring
the psychological side of investigating emotive cases with criminals who
constantly lie and in charting character development. The pacing, atmosphere and sense of
place and time adds to the telling.
The Lost Man by Jane Harper
Deep in the Australian outback Cameron Bright’s body is discovered by
his two brothers at Stockman’s grave, a bleak, isolated spot, having
perished in the searing heat. Harper’s tale charts Nathan’s faltering investigation
into his brother’s death. The telling is nicely evocative, with a
strong sense of place, realistic rendering of ranch and family life, and
tensions and social relations among an isolated, resilient community,
and well-painted characters. The real strength of story is the tight
crafting of plot, which is free of awkward or contrived plot devices;
mixing reminisce and mystery it creates a slow burn sense of unease and
intrigue, leading to an understated and satisfying denouement.
Black Betty by Walter Mosley
Easy Rawlins has fallen on hard times; his property
business has been hustled out from under him and he’s living in rented
accommodation with his mute son and young daughter. He’s been asked by a
white PI to find Black Betty, famed for turning men’s necks and
wrapping them around her fingers. Easy's search for the aging
siren quickly leads him into deadly trouble. As well as a compelling mystery,
with a couple of nice sub-plots, Mosley does an excellent job at
charting the social relations and geography of being black in Los
Angeles in the early 1960s. Mosley nicely
portrays racial tensions and injustices through a hardboiled style with a
tender underbelly. A wonderful, noir read.
The Eye of the Cricket by James Sallis
Lew Griffin is a some-time English literature academic, some-time
detective, and always melancholy with a self-destructive streak,
scraping by in New Orleans. Now in
his 50s Lew finds himself looking for three missing children. He takes his usual meandering path
through bars, restaurants, back streets, shelters, and philosophical
reflections, meeting a new love on the way. But as usual he finds it
difficult to keep everything on track. Sallis spins
out the tale at a sedate, reflective pace, pausing to dwell on the
nature and meaning of life and the social realities of being poor in the
Deep South. I was captivated for the entire story.
Mucho Mojo by Joe Lansdale
My introduction to Joe Lansdale, one of my favourite authors. I first read the book in 1996. The tale is told from
the perspective of Hap Collins, a middle aged, white field worker, who
is best friends with Leonard Pine, a tough, queer black man, as they investigate the disappearances of a number of kids. The style
is a kind of porch-told recounting of a mystery
adventure, infused with dark humour that is captivating. The nicely spun
plot mixes detection, romance and lost love, violent
confrontations, and social commentary on race, religion, family and
poverty in the Deep South. It has lost none of it vitality or social relevance, and Hap and Leonard are alive on the
page. A
wonderful, entertaining read.
Infinite Detail by Tim Maughan
Infinite Detail tracks life before and after a catastrophic
cyberattack that takes down the global internet and permanently disables
every digital technology and system, following two threads, one set in
Bristol, the other New York. Maughan nicely juxtaposes life before and after
the crash, raising thoughtful questions and observations about a world
becoming increasingly dependent on digital technologies. The result is an engaging tale about our digital and surveillance
present and future.
Blackfish City by Sam J. Miller
Post-apocalypse, the world has been shattered geopolitically into a
myriad of cities and wandering tribes. Qaanaaq is a floating city
powered by geothermal energy constructed above the Arctic Circle. When a woman riding a killer whale and accompanied by a polar bear arrive it
spawns rumours and unease. For four people her presence provides an
impetus to resist the present order, with the story tracking their lives. The world building is very nicely done and blended into the mix is a swirl of climate, gender and bio- politics.
The story rolls along at a
well-judged pace, building to a strong denouement that provides a
glimmer of hope without dimming a dark, stratified future.
The Concrete Blonde by Michael Connelly
Bosch is on trial for shooting
dead an unarmed man, Norman Church, believed to be the serial killer,
The Dollmaker. On the opening day of the trial another body is
discovered that appears to be a victim of The Dollmaker, but was
murdered after Church’s death. Drawing on his experience as a
veteran police and courts reporter for the LA Times,
Connelly weaves together a well plotted police
procedural with a feisty courtroom drama, creating a highly
compelling, tense, and expertly plotted tale. There isn’t a single
element out of place and the twists and turns keep coming.
Interestingly, given present protests against policing culture and
methods, there is a strong critical analysis of the police running
through the book, written not long after the Rodney King riots.
