Sunday, April 05, 2009
About Me
- Name: Peter Rozovsky
- Location: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States
This blog is a proud winner of the 2009 Spinetingler Award for special services to the industry and its blogkeeper a proud former guest on Wisconsin Public Radio's Here on Earth. In civilian life I'm a copy editor in Philadelphia. When not reading crime fiction, I like to read history. When doing neither, I like to travel. When doing none of the above, I like listening to music or playing it, the latter rarely and badly. Click here to find an independent bookstore near you.
Previous Posts
- Christopher Brookmyre is righteous
- Men, women and crime fiction
- Jo Nesbø, music and maturity
- Getting in touch with nature and keeping in touch ...
- Things to do in Denver when you're delayed, Part II
- Things to do in Denver when you're delayed
- Carl Nielsens De fire Temperamenter, or Santa Cruz...
- Matt Rees in the Philadelphia Inquirer
- I'd like to thank ... Spinetingler
- The Baltimore Drive-by, Part XIV
22 Comments:
I couldn't believe the irony of the challenge, Peter.
"Alexander Thynn, seventh Marquess
of Bath, is a well-known madman, a
flamboyant character caught somewhere between the 1660s and the 1960s and not quite ready to let either one go."
From THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE RICH by Richard Conniff.
A great read btw. Soon, I'll be starting DIRTY SWEET or THE BIG O.
Still catching up!
p.s. Thanks again for your honest commentary on Flaming Spade. :))
Do you enjoy baseball? "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" is posted if you're interested, Peter! Hope you're having a wonderful weekend!
I have a questionable connection where I am now, so it may take me a while to download your page, but I do enjoy baseball, and I will look in.
The title of your book is certainly ironically suited to the Chapter 11 post.
I have learned from my job as a police inspector that the truth is like a coin - it has two faces.
Amara Lakhous?
Whoa. Good call Peter. And how great that it is actually the last chapter as well.
Mine is very mundane.
"His phone was ringing when he got to his office; he half ran across the room to pick it up."
And yet, it seems to mirror a lot of what I've been doing for the last week.
It's from A Noble Radiance by Donna Leon, by the way.
Not at all an impressive call. I searched online for the line. I have read and liked the book, but I did not remember that chapter opening. I threw in the question mark because variants of the line crop up in several books.
I wish you a week of peace and good news, or at least of reaching leisurely for ringing phones.
No, I'm still impressed. I wouldn't have thought to do it.
My preference on phones this week would be not to hear very many at all. Yes, except good news.
Well, I had to do the search. Not to reply would have been to confess ignorance on my part. McKinty was daring me to come up with the answer.
I was reluctant to look actually because I'm only on the sixth chapter, but when the game's afoot you have to compromise your principles a little.
Tactics, tactics. I had not made it to Chapter 11 when I took the challenge:
"This Parlabane was quite definitely trouble."
Quite Ugly One Morning, Christopher Brookmyre
Confessing ignorance isn't the worst thing in the world, though, is it? But it's nice that Adrian has read the book.
By the way, I find it interesting that petra michelle puts Dirty Sweet and The Big O in the same sentence, as McFetridge and Burke's names do seem to keep cropping up together. And not just because they went to 'real' Boucheron and more than one 'fictional' Boucheron together. It's some parallel in the way they write crime fiction.
V word='consp', which is clearly a conspiracy cut short.
Seana, you are the last person to whom I would suggest that confessing ignorance is a bad thing.
I suspect Petra Michelle mentioned the books together because she got her copies from me. She sent me a check, and I bought copies for her when Declan and John read together in Philadelphia.
The v-word generator was silenced before it could reveal the full truth.
I hope she reads them together as they are very well-paired books.
My v word is 'vicat', which has some interesting possibilities but no real ring to it.
I actually think they're the same person. One of them is obviously an actor that the real one hired to give creedence to his nom de plume. Which is the real one I cannot say.
I havent finished Clash of Civ but I'm enjoying it so far when I blog about it I'm going to call my post Rashomon With Jokes.
It would be a good trick, but I am not quite sure how they--I mean he-- would have fooled Peter.
Seana, that was a Walt Disney cartoon, wasn't it, The Vicats of Wakefield?
I agree that the two books make a good pairing, especially with the youngish couples on the run in both. Books brought Burke and McFetridge together. Fate made them friends.
Adrian, I have met Fetch and Burke separately and, more crucially, together. I can attest that if they're not real, someone is writing some pretty damn good books under their names.
You could call your post Rashomon: And Then There Were Ten. I also invoked Rashomon when I discussed the book, noting my surprise at how infrequently reviewers had done so. But Marco suggested this could be because Italians had a domestic comparison closer at hand: That Awful Mess on Via Merulana by Carlo Emilio Gadda.
Simple, Seana: I'm in on the conspiracy.
"Det var med at benytte sig af chancen for at komme hjem i nogenlunde tid."
"He´d better use this chance of getting home at a decent hour."
I´d just got to chapter 11. Don´t know if I will ever get to the end of this debut - the rest is about as promising as this dreary sentence.
The word verification is quettome - wonder whether it should be "quit tome"?
One finds the messages one seeks. I'd have thought quettome was a Native American chief or else a German-speaking Italian village in the Dolomites.
Or a lake.
"By the shores of blue quettome. . ."
Or a line from a poem by Longfellow.
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