Over the weekend, somewhere on my Singapore-Helsinki-Heathrow stretch, I finished Chris Currie’s first novel The Ottoman Motel. I started it a couple of months ago just after its Melbourne launch but stopped when I got busy and the only time I had free to read was right before bed and I couldn’t because it was too eerie for me to cope with at that time of day. (I usually only read things I’ve already ready a million times before bed.)
It was delicious in so many unexpected ways. It’s quiet and deliberate. It has delightful twists of plot and character development and tone that keep you on your toes. I had to put it away so I could get some sleep. The famous acknowledgements teared me up a little. (Although that could have something to do with the long-haul flight.)
Thanks for bringing such a great piece of fiction into the world Chris. I can’t wait to meet the new one. I hope it’s coming along just as well.
Only now I have this great hulking book I don’t want to cart around with me until the end of September. I’ve got to mail it somewhere so who wants it?
I want it back though. It’s signed by the author.