This will hurt me...

Tree and sea. Binalong Bay, Bay of Fires, Tasmania. July 2021. Pen 33  by Anders Roslund Phew. This book does not scrimp on graphic details regarding the nastier side of child rape, murder and the brutal realities of senseless vengeance. Let me say that if you are a little squeamish about the inner workings of a deranged rapist and murderer, or indeed the intricacies of killing or autopsies, I would recommend skipping this one. If not, then this is an effective exploration of concepts like redemption, punishment and justice in modern Sweden. While gratuitous at times and improbable at others, it effectively explores the real complexities of some of these key themes. The novel is something of an endurance test, with very few upbeat scraps thrown to the reader along the way. All up, I think that it has merit as part of the long line of social realism via crime fiction that emerged from the work of Sjöwall and Wahlöö. ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2

  On the rocks. Binalong Bay, Bay of Fires, Tasmania. July 2021. Ridgeline  by Michael Punke Richly evocative and deeply effective,  Ridgeline  offers a sensitive rendering of the destructive mythos of American exceptionalism and the 'settling' of the west. The novel roots itself in real events. In shifting from the perspective of the uneasy Oglala brave Crazy Horse and the lonely isolated wife of an impetuous and capricious cavalry officer, the book resists the tendency of centralising the experience of white male soldiers and settlers. I am not one too concerned with essentialising the gender or ethnicity of an author when it comes to telling stories, and I am certain that there will be some that may choose to question Punke's right to tell these stories. However, this is a well-researched and empathetic rendering. If not able to rectify the great crimes done to the first peoples of North America, it at least recognises the dignity of a people so often reduced to crude ca

 Jen wades in. Binalong Bay, Bay of Fires/ larapuna. July 2021. Born Into This by Adam Thompson Published stories from a Tasmanian palawa (Aboriginal) perspective are sadly few and far between, but Adam Thompson's debut collection, I hope, will start something of a correction to that. Startingly authentic and brutally honest - I grew up and continue to know people who are very much these characters - I can't wait to see what will come next. ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 1/2

  Ezra and Henry hanging about, Binalong Bay, Bay of Fires, Tasmania. Fever Pitch  by Nick Hornby It is always interesting to read a memoir that reflects on the changes and passing of a very different time, written in the immediate afterwards. Much has changed in English, and world football culture since  Fever Pitch  was published. I wonder what Hornby makes of the consequences of enforced seating, the formation of the Premier League and the fracturing of the working class and subsequent dominance of money and middle-class casual fans. Perhaps in the same way, as the book ends in his own settling down and tempering of his fandom, he welcomed the gentrification of the game (but I doubt it). Anyway, it was a fine diversion from far heavier works. Born Into This  by Adam Thompson Published stories from a Tasmanian palawa (Aboriginal) perspective are sadly few and far between, but Adam Thompson's debut collection, I hope, will start something of a correction to that. Startingly authen

A glimpse of the falls. St Columba Falls, Pyengana, Tasmania. July 2021. The Lamplighters  by Emma Stonex Experimental in form, I did enjoy this novel quite a lot. As is often in such mysteries, we start with the ending. Everything that comes at us does so in a convergence of multiple angles, viewpoints, narrative voices, and temporal standpoints. The ending almost overwhelms the reader like the kind of gigantic waves so evocatively described in the text. One area in which the book treads quite new ground is that the sections set in 1972 are told from the perspectives of the three men at the centre of the mystery. When we find ourselves in 1992, the narrative is rooted in the minds and voices of those women left behind. It's an interesting twist on convention and affords Stonex to explore hidden subtexts in entirely natural and effective ways. All up, this is an engrossing exploration of isolation, grief and memory. I'll definitely keep my eye out for more from this author! ⭐ ⭐