I'll be perfectly honest - I circled El Dorado in the Readings tent at the Melbourne Writers festival for days. It's a contemporary Australian crime fiction thriller. It was long-listed for the 2007 Ned's and I'd promised myself to read the entire list of nominees this year. So why was I circling?
Well El Dorado is a verse novel - poetry and I admit I'm never convinced about reading poetry. Sure I love listening to some bush poetry, and I love to listen to some I guess you'd call them performance poets - ask everyone about dragging me away from Lem Sissay's performances at last year's MWF - but reading an entire verse novel.... a crime verse novel. Errrrrrrrrrr
So I circled.
The opening verse is a ripper mind you:
The little girl's
is sticking stiffly
as if reaching
to grab an angel's foot.
Then I found this stanza on page 8 and I was heading for the cash register:
It's not often
Detective Sergeant Rodney Mason
but a man
with no imagination
and no sense of smell -
'the wife reckons
I never buy her flowers' -
is right at home
in the city morgue
El Dorado is fascinating. As a story it switches from dark comedy, to tragedy. The personal lives of the investigating team are laid bare, the raw grief of families who lose a child to a murderer, the panic and worry as it becomes increasingly obvious that not only do they not know who, they don't understand why. There's pace, there's a progression of the story and it's done in pared down, beautifully worded verse.
El Dorado is a great crime novel. It's compelling verse. All I can say is don't circle it like I did - grab a copy and try it - you'll probably find yourself mildly astounded.