A wickedly funny story of family love and betrayal which moves from the world of do-it-yourself property development in 1990s Auckland to fabric mills and fashion showrooms of Milan. Rich, comic, heart-breaking, Anderson's prose has the power to enthral.
This was cleverly written but hard work. I read the opening pages at least five times before I felt confident enough to continue – the constant switching around of the point of view, the abrupt changes from past to present tense, the way that everything is left for the reader to work out, nothing is explained – it’s quite disorientating. Again and again I marvelled at the way the words were made to work hard, but it’s a bit like doing one of those impossible jigsaw puzzles, the ones that are all baked beans and nothing else...it gets your brain working but halfway though you stop and wonder : ‘am I enjoying this?’
The story concerns two generations of a family members of which have kept various secrets from one another, opening the door for a spot of blackmail. One of them is into retifism, which I’m confident isn’t a spoiler as it wasn’t even in my dictionary. I’d be willing to bet it never came up in ‘Call My Bluff’. One to read if you enjoy a well turned sentence and don’t mind exercising the grey matter. It can’t be rushed, it has to be taken slowly and the end isn't exactly a neat tie-up. I was left wondering what it was all about but with the sense that I had read the work of a clever author nonetheless.