Sunday, September 9, 2012






One day, when I was throwing a tantrum at J and K's place, demanding books to borrow so that I could read during my impending 28-hour train journey, K handed me this book. I was assured that I would enjoy it.

And...it is not that I didn't.

I've never read any Argentinian author before, and so this was completely uncharted territory. Also, De Santis did amuse by all the tongue-in-cheek references to ALL the genres of detective fiction. But I demand a surprise at the end of my whodunits, and I could see this resolution coming from miles away.

I guess my philistine detective story-loving mind is forever expecting the unexpected.
Agatha Christie has ruined me.
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2 comments:

  1. La Figlia Che PiangeSeptember 12, 2012 at 2:35 AM

    I tried reading this book, didn't like it.

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  2. March HareSeptember 12, 2012 at 2:45 AM

    Spin! You're the first person to have commented on this blog. I am rather kicked. :D

    Amaro eita boita oto kichhu bheeshon bhalo lageni. Ami khub-i unintellectual. :P

    ReplyDelete

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