Broken Homes by Ben Aaronovitch

Broken Homes by Ben Aaronovitch

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I sat down to talk about this right when I finished, but ended up just keysmashing and reeling off to eat a cupcake.

Take two.

The formula of these books is pretty set at this point: we have a series of seemingly random crimes, the investigation of which is punctuated by apprentice bickering and magic practice. There's some kind of event that gets all the personified rivers out to play, generally in a manner having nothing to do with anything else that's happening, but I love them so I don't care. More crime, imbued with an increasing sense of place, as all of his research accumulates density. And then it ends with a rush and a bang and a breath, and kicks me in the chest.

This time the rivers interlude was awesome. And the sense of place was by way of a sly, funny, not too serious, not too unserious meditation on poverty and ownership and home and the creation of beauty and self-betterment. And we paused to have an additional interlude on the topic of Thomas Nightingale, certifiable bad ass motherfucker. And the kick was a good one, oh man.

Plus, it didn't even Joss my Yuletide!

Next please.




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