Bookses

I am currently reading The Broken Shore by Peter Temple, an Australian crime novel which won a lot of international awards a couple of years ago.  It is an incredibly thoughtful story about racism, poverty, history and death in the sort of semi-rural town where the only surviving industries are tourism and drugs.  Very much like the area where I grew up.  It's slow to get started, but the depth of detail is rewarding.  I'm particularly loving Temple's dialogue; he really captures the various patterns of Australian speech, from political soundbytes to working class dialogue.

To sum up my recommendation, I shall draw upon this one-star review from Amazon: I know enough Aussies to know that they all do not live in the gutter. I struggled through about one half of this literary travesty before I threw it in the trash.  Thank you, guy from Arizona, I lolled.

There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures that Braxiatel allows to live.

So, I have finished season 8 of Bernice Summerfield.  And I am feeling a bit torn, because I'm worried that Braxiatel's shades of grey have gotten too dark, even for me.

( Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Braxiatel. )