|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
March Violets, by Philip Kerr Tonight I found myself idly thinking "what was that movie I finished watching last night? It was
really good". Then, I realized that I had finished reading March Violets before bed, and that
cemented in my mind just what a good read it was. Really, it was a delight. A gritty, hard boiled,
unflinching delight. Getting to know Bernie Gunther was a welcome experience, and he immediately
takes a place beside other famous noir gumshoes, and a high place indeed.
The detective novel analogies are fast and furious here, and the non-sequitur nature yet perfect
fit of many of them had me laughing in the midst of an otherwise grim morning commute. Thankfully
there are a whole pile of these excellent books - with the first three comprising a complete body
of work which Kerr then revisited with great success some 15 years later. I can see myself dipping
into Bernie's world again soon!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
