It seems impossible to believe that Kate Atkinson’s sentences ever had an awkward stage. Each paragraph, each page, each chapter unfolds with perfect precision, the prose and pacing fully shaped. There’s nothing flowery about the words, but no stripped-down drama either. Atkinson’s a pro – a juicy pro.
The reader can also luxuriate happily in the plot. Now that I know her work, I’d be happy to read Atkinson ruminating on the benefits of fertilizer brands, but there’s a distinct pleasure in watching someone handle what is essentially a stock murder mystery with expert literary precision. In short, while the plot could still hold up in the hands of a lesser author, and Atkinson’s voice could carry a bloated text that went nowhere, thankfully, there’s no need to choose.
So run out and pick up a copy as I am sure it will be the talk of the lit blogosphere. (And yes, being the GOP capitalist tool that I am, I put up an Amazon link and I do get a tiny cut of the sale)