2023 -- Books Roundup

Donna Leon has said that there is one main reason people turn to detective fiction: It's a great pleasure to see someone smart trying to solve a problem. If you read about a detective, you're simply reading about someone going to work, day after day, until a particular project is completed. Detective stories are conservative stories: You know that there will be a solution, and you know justice, or something like justice, will triumph in the end. (This is a nice break from actual life, where solutions are scarce, and so many issues involve a murky compromise.)

Jane Harper's "Exiles," one of the standout crime novels of 2023, features a decent guy, Falk, with a problem. Someone he knows--a mom--has gone missing. She attended a local fair, in Australia, left her infant in a carriage, and disappeared. Why on Earth? Falk is driven to find a solution because he knows the missing woman's teenaged daughter; this kid is suffering, and she can't imagine that her mother would simply run off.

Falk is bright, and he can sense when someone is being evasive. He gets a weird feeling about the local sheriff; he also discovers that he is at war with himself, because he can't quite trust a memory that keeps surfacing in his head. Additionally, he thinks it's odd when a discussion about paternity pops up; does a baby resemble "the right person"? It's a treat to get access to Falk's thoughts--and also to watch him concealing those thoughts behind a mask, because he can't afford to antagonize possible allies.

The solution to the mystery in this book is clever; it's not something I saw coming. And I really enjoyed my time with Falk. I'd consider reading a sixth or seventh novel by Jane Harper.

Comments

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...

Liars and Saints

Search This Blog