The Dry
Australian “lit.” Not a Lit Australian, which is a different topic, and included in the original fineprint, “Never try to out drink an Australian” (don’t ask).
The notion of Australian Literature, there’s a pile of books I did read, and loved, and then, in more recent years, a couple of critically-acclaimed novels that are still in the TBR1 stack. However, a library recommendation pushed this to the top.
What I hoped for? Besides the expected procedural or murder-mystery, the name suggests the vast expanse of Australia’s outback — and as the title implies, during a drought. Desert, drought, not much difference. To me, it evokes West Texas, vast expanses of seemingly nothingness, but our drought broke2. Doesn’t stop the similarity, though. Small towns in the country are eerily similar, no matter which direction the water swirls in the toilet bowl. If the critters don’t bite, they sting, and the plants are mostly prickly.
”On arrival, as the empty moving truck disappeared from sight, they gazed around and were always taken aback by the crushing vastness of the open land. The space was the thing that hit them first. There was so much of it. There was enough to drown in. To look out and see not another soul between you and the horizon could be a strange and disturbing sight.” Page 152.
Still true in some places, to this day.
What happened, the pacing was slow in building, with the tale looping back and forth across time until the last third, and it got to that point, with an extra unseen twist, and a hot finish.
Good book.
