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Magnus Mills’s first novel, The Restraint of Beasts, was hailed by Thomas Pynchon as a “comic wonder.” His second novel, All Quiet on the Orient Express, is an equally edgy blend of high-grade comedy and low-grade paranoia. With insidiously beguiling deadpan charm, Mills draws us again into the world of contract employment, this time in England’s Lake District. The novel’s narrator, an itinerant odd-jobber, is camping out, waiting for summer to end so that he can set off for some vague notion of the East . . . Turkey, Persia, overland to India. In the meantime, he agrees to do a small painting job for the owner of his campsite. One job leads to another. Before long, our hero is hopelessly and hilariously enmeshed in the off-season mysteries of the placid northern English community, grappling with dark forces beyond his power—some of which hang out at the local pub. To think it all began with a simple paint job . . .
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A slightly surreal book, that reminded me of my home town. Vaguely mundane, vaguely threatening, you are constantly left wondering what is about to happen, but nothing really does. It did not blow me away, but it was a clever bit of writing.