Nineteen Eighty, by David Peace

"It’s a big black bloody world full of a million black and bloody hells"

Crime noir with its hair on fire.

A police procedural written by a poet.

Not much more to really say about this, the third book in the four book Red Riding quartet.

I will note that it was simultaneously both the strongest and the weakest of the series so far. Strongest because of the story, the pacing, the characters; weakest because of the writing, which became far too repetitive even for David Peace, almost like he was padding his page count near the end.

Also worth mentioning: the other two books blew my hair back but didn’t leave me white knuckled until I could crack the next one, but this one has me all ginned up for book four. I don’t actually own Nineteen Eighty-Three yet, so not sure if it will be the next book I read, but it will be soon.

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As usual, it behooves me to warn that this book and this series are most assuredly not for the squeamish.

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Thanks for reading!