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nghia 's review for:
The Broken Shore
by Peter Temple
I'm not sure non-Australians would enjoy this quite as much. It is pretty dense with Australian slang. The US edition apparently includes a 7-page glossary at the back explaining all the slang.
The main reason to read this is for that sense of place. As other reviews have pointed out, the plot does very little that's novel. Small town racism and corruption. Richest family in town has dark secrets and everyone is in their pocket. Etc etc etc. It is not entirely wrong -- but a bit unkind -- to just call it "typical small-town crime noir...but in Australia!
This isn't to say that Temple is a mechanical writer, just going through the motions. He's a good writer and does some (IMHO) nifty things with the pacing and plotting. I can see why some readers wouldn't appreciate it. Very little actual "mystery solving" happens for the first, oh, 2/3rds of the book. But for me, that worked. It was very much a "how detective Joe Casin got his groove back" build up and resolution.
When Casin finally pulls his head and starts being an actual detective again the book starts crackling with energy. You can feel him going from apathetic, broken -- just going through the motions -- to being (as Lester & McNulty from The Wire put it) Natural Police.
Through out this second act, we see glimpses of Casin's greatness. All those little random encounters earlier in the book that seemed pointless. The lady shoplifting from the drug store. The guy having caught having sex with an underage girl. We see Casin's mind for details and memory. Not in an unbelievable Sherlock Holmes kind of way. But in a "this guy is good at his job" kind of way.
Eventually, Temple gets a little carried away with his game, though. He tries to make everything tied to everything. Even down to It was just a bit much but I was willing to forgive a bit of excess at the end.
Life’s short, son, don’t drink any old piss. Singo’s advice, Singo always drank Carlsberg
The main reason to read this is for that sense of place. As other reviews have pointed out, the plot does very little that's novel. Small town racism and corruption. Richest family in town has dark secrets and everyone is in their pocket. Etc etc etc. It is not entirely wrong -- but a bit unkind -- to just call it "typical small-town crime noir...but in Australia!
‘You go on worrying and then you’re in charge at Bringalbert North. And your mate Villani can’t save you.’
‘Where’s Bringalbert?’
‘Exactly. I have no fucking idea.’
This isn't to say that Temple is a mechanical writer, just going through the motions. He's a good writer and does some (IMHO) nifty things with the pacing and plotting. I can see why some readers wouldn't appreciate it. Very little actual "mystery solving" happens for the first, oh, 2/3rds of the book. But for me, that worked. It was very much a "how detective Joe Casin got his groove back" build up and resolution.
‘We fucked this thing up,’ he said. ‘So badly.’
When Casin finally pulls his head and starts being an actual detective again the book starts crackling with energy. You can feel him going from apathetic, broken -- just going through the motions -- to being (as Lester & McNulty from The Wire put it) Natural Police.
Through out this second act, we see glimpses of Casin's greatness. All those little random encounters earlier in the book that seemed pointless. The lady shoplifting from the drug store. The guy having caught having sex with an underage girl. We see Casin's mind for details and memory. Not in an unbelievable Sherlock Holmes kind of way. But in a "this guy is good at his job" kind of way.
Eventually, Temple gets a little carried away with his game, though. He tries to make everything tied to everything. Even down to