Book review: Ordinary Thunderstorms, by William Boyd
In a world of worthy writers William Boyd stands shoulder to shoulder with the best. Now try saying that ten times really fast! In his latest book, Ordinary Thunderstorms, Boyd tells the story of Adam Kindred an expert in clouds, not the ethereal techy ones but those that so prolifically adorn the skies over Scotland.
Now, that opening paragraph might not make the book seem so appealing but when you then learn that Kindred is in effect being framed for murder for no other reason than meeting the wrong man in the wrong place at precisely the wrong time then things start to get interesting.
A man is murdered as he has discovered that a new wonder asthma drug in testing has been killing young children. In his dying death throes he passes his papers to Kindred and warns him to “hrrmphhs, bleugh…” or whatever else it is a man says after being knifed in the heart. Kindred runs.
Being a professor of cloud-thingys, Kindred is at least clever and wipes himself off of the grid and sets up home under a bridge near Chelsea, London. He foregoes his old life, monies and relationships in a battle for survival. Hunting him and his secret down are Big Pharma, ex-military, the police and Servants of John Christ.
Boyd is a master storyteller and whilst Ordinary Thunderstorms is not quite as good as Restless, it is nonetheless a fun read, with suitable and subtle prose and full of scenes and that take the reader from their semi-detached comfort zone.
7/10
Book review: Where The Bodies Are Buried, by Chris Brookmyre
Firstly, let’s deal with the name change; Brookmyre has gone from Christopher to plain old Chris. Don’t know why, don’t really care, but it is the same person in case you are confused. Anyone who has ever read the Paisley-born author’s work will already be aware of the sardonic wit that flows throw his every publication, and this is his 11th novel.
Following on from the brilliant nigh-on sci-fi Pandemonium, Where The Bodies Are Buried is almost a return to familiar territory as Brookmyre deals with a plain-old whodunit. It is Glasgow and Jasmine Sharp, recently orphaned wannabe actress, is working with her uncle Jim in a small private detective agency; small as in it has two staff and one of them is there by virtue of sympathetic relatives.
Her life is thrown upside down when her uncle Jim disappears, her only clues being the open folders relating to the cases of Ann Ramsay and Glen Fallan. Meanwhile, Jai McDermaid turns up brutally murdered in a back-alley in the east end. Separate events with no connection, or is there?
Brookmyre takes the old Glasgow idiom (which he even quotes in the book), “When you hear hoof-beats on Sauchiehall Street you know it’s a horse and not a zebra coming down the street,” and stretches it to breaking point. The story twists and turns around an unknown centre point like octopi playing swingball – what is the connection between missing persons from a quarter of a century ago, a false alarm at Central Station and a series of gang-related crimes across the city?
The answer: Glasgow’s biggest gang.
Where The Bodies Are Buried is another read-straight-through offering from one of Scotland’s finest authors. Admittedly it is not in the same league as A Tale Etched In Blood And Hard Black Pencil and the early Parlabane books, but it is nonetheless another stonking effort.
8/10
Book review: Invisible Monsters, by Chuck Palahniuk
Every now and then you read a book and it takes your breath away (ahem, I said the exact same thing about Rant). You turn page after page in anticipation of the next chapter, the next reveal or twist. You can’t put it down. It cries out “read me for if you don’t I may not be here when you get back.”
Invisible Monsters is possibly the best book I have ever read.
Chuck Palahniuk, he of Fight Club, Choke, Rant, Lullaby and Survivor fame, is a master. He creates unbelievably brilliant narrative viewpoints and in Invisible Monsters he has excelled himself. The name of the raconteur you don’t find out until the final couple of chapters, but no matter, she is remarkable. The story is told in a haphazard fashion, with ‘Jump to…’ scenes littering every page of the book – you need all your wiles about you just to stay on track. But it is a helluva journey as the storyteller takes you from one incredulous scene to another.
What you find out early about her is that she has been disfigured in a shooting, and as a model this is not good. Her family mourn her brother, gay and dead from AIDS. Her best friend is a bitch and her boyfriend a deviant with an unhealthy obsession with his job, catching men cruising in Washington Park. Her new best friend is mid-op. The opening scene sets us up for a story of revenge, self-discovery and downright mayhem across North America.
I can’t give too much away about the plot as this in itself is the book’s killer facet – the right angles that it takes the reader through makes Blackpool’s Big Dipper seem like a wee toddler’s fun-ride in comparison. Palahniuk’s genius is infinite and he pushes the boundaries on conventional literature to new heights in this book (well, did so about 12 years ago..!) and it is his positioning of the out-there as normal that so obliges the reader to turn page after page.
Suffice to say he is in danger of making his peers look clumsy and oafish in comparison. His use of repetition is dazzling; the crazy farmer parents of the storyteller are hilarious and Queen Supreme, Brandy Alexander, is so Lily Savage that Paul O’Grady might get arrested for scamming Darvocets from open houses (you need to read the book).
Invisible Monsters is a work of art as would befit Michelangelo. If you are told tomorrow you only have twenty-four hours to live, get this book, read it and die fulfilled. This is beyond brilliant. It is a virtuoso book that one-day will be recognised as a classic of our time – if not, then shame on us.
10/10
June DVD reviews
Two DVD reviews up on www.videovista.net this month – a couple of hummingdingers as well.
- The Diplomat, starring Dougray Scott. Espionage, intrigue and shite plotting.
- Blades of Blood, a Japanese/Korean samurai flick with some of the most incredulous acting and scripting ever seen.
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