The weather has been surprising, warm.
The Habs are on a winning streak.
What more could a girl want!
I have been reading the Bartholomew Gill,
Death of An Irish Tinker.
It’s really quite good,
top notch mystery.
It’s also kind of scary,
to think that there are so many evil people preying,
on the young and innocent and helpless.
Mysteries are fascinating,
because when they are good,
they show the ugly underbelly of society.
A snapshot of society at it’s worst.
but, also at it’s best.
Evil and good squaring off.
Perhaps,
not the best reading to restore your faith in humanity,
or for the approaching winter.
Still, I enjoyed it.
I learned about the tinkers or travellers,
the Irish equivalent of the gypsies.
I love Gill’s work it takes me to Ireland,
not the Ireland of leprechauns,
the Ireland of grit and also of noble, smart, hard working people,
who try to make things right or at least punish evils.
If you are interested in a mature well written mystery a la Ian Rankin,
or even Henning Mankell give Gill a try.
Gill, was in reality Mark McGarrity,
an American from New Jersey.
He decided at one point to write about Ireland,
the land of his ancestors.
He died a relatively young man,
late fifties,
in a freak accident.
He had forgotten his keys,
and tried to get into his home via a window,
slipped,
hit his head on the pavement,
and died.
Knowing this,
somehow adds to the melancoly mood of his writting.
His work deserves to be read,
his Peter MGarr is a strong character.
Perhaps his work is his portion of immortality.
I don’t mean to be dark.
Probably fatigue,
and a slight case of November blues.
Next post,
more upbeat,
promise.
Later girls
BB
