As I have been saying, it has been an up and down year, for me, concerning fiction. The possibility of a new Kate Atkinson is always an uplift. But the funny thing is, when I was mentioning the book to a friend, I accidentally said, "I am reading the new Kate Smith!"
What is that all about, I wonder?
Jackson Brodie is back. The novel is set in a quaint northern England village that has a dark underbelly. Kate takes her time in laying out the players, and then when then narrative is moved in on, the story jolts to unputdownable proportions.
The issue of sex trafficking is tackled. For those as repulsed by this as I am, let me say Atkinson handles it as tastefully as possible; she gets the point across without being lurid, and she has compassion for the victims. And, yes, everyone who should get their comeuppance.
But her timing, plotting and narrative skills are reason enough to read any Kate Atkinson book, All strings are tied by the end, and the only regret the reader is left with is waiting for Kate to write another Brodie novel.
Fiction for all to enjoy, dolls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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