Sabine Durrant (Hachette Australia) 2016, 352pp, RRP $32.99
Durrant’s psychological character drama is hamstrung slightly, at first, by the fact that its narrator, a formerly big-time young writer long gone-to-seed named Paul Morris, is such a manipulative user, and yet there is a certain pleasure as Durrant guides him throughout the tale and we just know that he’s well and truly going to get what’s coming to him.
Distinctly unlikeable Londoner Paul by chance meets an old uni friend named Andrew whom he hasn’t seen since a drunken and dimly-remembered series of events in Greece a decade beforehand. Andrew acts like they’re besties and introduces him to a selection of types, including Alice, a human rights lawyer and widow with whom Paul’s soon having a relationship that, he increasingly realises, is based upon real emotion and not just sponging.
Eventually Paul’s accompanying a group to Alice’s soon-to-be-demolished holiday house in Pyros, and we just know that he’s being set up (no spoilers necessary too), and yet he carries on obliviously digging himself a hole that he’s sure to have terrible trouble crawling out of.
And some readers will surely be whooping with glee, as something awful (and awfully satisfying) does indeed take place – and it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
I Wake Up Screening 