Reading The Executioner Weeps is reminder of how direct and well-paced a crime novel can be.
Tomoka Shibasaki’s Spring Garden is quietly a great many things, but primarily it appears to be a meditation of seasonality. Buildings are constructed in the spring, flourish in the summer, recede in the autumn and are knocked down in the winter to be rebuilt in the spring again. Their inhabitants follow a similar cycle. They…
Wonderfully adept at weaving in new characters, Mcdonald takes a simple melody and orchestrates it into a cacophony of noise. It demands your attention.
What really happens to a policeman who can’t solve his most important case? What becomes of a pillar of society whose foundations are crumbling?
Kiewarra hasn’t seen a cloud for two years but it’s been drowning in sin for generations.
They read, they write, they drink, they have affairs, they probe, they hide, they hurtle towards their own oblivion, their lives “lived out, in order to be described”.
