glass hombre & wooden crime
Is there any blog more stuffed with odd images, interesting recommendations, & constant interaction with texts wrenched & demanding, than Steve Finbow’s Glass Hombre ? There is not. If you want to know, on a day-to-day basis, what’s rewardingly louche, Finbow is yr man. He’s a bazaar of the bizarre.
Reading: the Millenium trilogy, not very bizarre, or even very good. The crime-writing equivalent of urban fantasy. She’s a tamed goth anorexic lesbian autistic self-harming violent hacker girl; he’s a wodgily conscientious political journo: they fight crime. It doesn’t matter what happens to the bad guys because they’re either paedophiles, right wing corporate CEOs or violent rapists; or all three. Ploddingly correct right-on as an excuse for hitting people with hammers, living proof that simply reversing the typical politics of a genre was one of the laziest, smuggest & most self-satisfied fictional gestures devised by the generation that attained its majority in the early 80s. Aren’t we bored now ? Could we stand something that’s actually different ?