I’d never tell anyone not to read Paul Quarrington’s Galveston, but neither would I recommend it. The novel sees three storm chasers arrive on a small island – Dampier Cay – a day before the arrival of a category 5 hurricane. Two of the chasers have traumatic pasts. One is just in it for the glory.
The parts I liked? Learning bits about hurricanes. Descriptions of the wind.
Parts I didn’t? Endless and extreme symbolism, such that I felt battered myself by the barrage of this-means-this and look-out here comes another symbol, duck! you might get hit by significance!
Meh. Not good, not bad. Nominated for the Giller, if you’re into that sort of thing.
Literary Vice 