French does many things very, very well in Broken Harbor. The writing, for one. Just as any shot of liquor could get me drunk, any well-plotted mystery novel could probably keep me turning its pages. It’s the beauty of Tana French’s prose, however — lines like, “Interesting fact from the front lines: raw grief smells like ripped leaves and splintered branches, a jagged green shriek,” and, “darker than the inside of bone” — that makes me enjoy turning those pages. A Tana French mystery is like a fancy cocktail: sure, the alcohol alone could do the trick, but it’s how the liquor interacts with the homemade ginger beer, or the muddled local strawberries, that make me feel closer to God.
Edan Lepucki reviews Tana French’s Broken Harbor

16 Notes/ Hide

  1. firefliesanddragons reblogged this from millionsmillions
  2. janeciabattari reblogged this from millionsmillions
  3. bobthebenevolentdictator reblogged this from millionsmillions
  4. millionsmillions posted this