So many books . . . So little time

So many books . . . So little time.

It's a common lament among bibliophiles and especially so among book reviewers. Books are always arriving—review copies, gifts, purchases—and they come in faster than I can read. I'm a compulsive sort, so they all get sorted, prioritized, and stacked in neat piles. Lingering. In a kind of book purgatory. Waiting. To be read and shelved. Loaned out. Or, in rare moments of clarity, boxed up and carted off to the library where they hopefully will find a home at the next book sale.

The stacks include: 1) books that must be read and reviewed, 2) classics that I should read—in fact, should have read a long time ago, 3) books by recently discovered writers, 4) books by favorite authors, and 5) books read and recommended by my wife. See, I told you that I'm compulsive.

Since new titles for Stack #1 are always arriving on the doorstep, it's not often that I have the pleasure of mucking around in the bibliographic purgatory of Stacks 2-5.

This past weekend was one of those times, and I chose a novel by a familiar author: John Burdett. (Bangkok Haunts, Vintage, $13.95, 350p) It's the third in Burdett's excellent and intriguing crime series featuring Bangkok (Thailand) cop Sonchai Jitpleecheep. The first two are Bangkok 8 and Bangkok Tattoo. I discovered Burdett quite accidentally—and happily so—a few years ago.

This particular title has done its share of penance. I completely missed the 2007 hardcover, and the paperback that I read has been out for at least six months. It was worth the wait though.

This time out, our intrepid detective, whose parents are a Thai whore and an American GI from the Vietnam-War era, is trying to get to the bottom of the murder—documented in a snuff movie—of a beautiful and tragic prostitute.

Sonchai has a personal interest in the case since he once had a brief affair with the prostitute, and she continues to haunt his dreams.

Sonchai is joined in his pursuit by his transsexual partner Lek and American FBI agent Kimberley Jones, an old friend. Along the way, Burdett introduces the reader to the sobering ubiquity of the international porn industry. There's also sorcery, magic, and plenty of page-turning chills.

In addition, Burdett liberally sprinkles the narrative with one-liners: alternately incisive, irreverent, politically-incorrect, and funny. I'm a sucker for one-liners. Shakespeare, of course, is the master. Among contemporary authors, Nelson DeMille is very good.

Here are some examples:

"Viagra is the lifeblood of the porn industry."

"There's no violence like domestic violence."

"To know how to cheer oneself up is a first step to enlightenment."

"Stupidity can be exaggerated for strategic reasons."

On rural policing: "The best you can hope for is boys and girls who can wear the uniform without getting themselves into too much trouble."

"We are tiny figurines hanging from the charm bracelet of infinity."

"The best way to check if you're in Chinatown is by counting gold shops."

"Farang [foreigners] are like boys—they have no self-control."

"Decent people cannot stand very much reality."