Die if you must

Published on Sunday 26 October 2003 01:00

DIE IF YOU MUST

John Hemming

Macmillan, 30

The title of this third volume of the history of the indigenous people of Brazil is very subtle. Although the reader might expect it to refer to the casually genocidal behaviour of settlers, it is in fact the personal motto of the first head of the Indian Protection Service: "Die if you must, but never kill". Tolerance, bravery, corruption and wonder are all here - and dying out, it transpires, is the last thing on the mind of the tribes, who have rallied against disease, poverty and enforced acculturation. This study is authoritative, shocking and fascinating.

Also try: Alan Campbell, Getting to Know Waiwai

THE REPUBLIC OF TED

Eddie Gibbons

Thirsty Books, 6.99

Eddie Gibbons lures the reader into his second poetry collection with wry and ingenious works - in particular, a quirky reworking of the shipping forecast. These affable pieces belie the emotional bombshell of his extended sequence on the death of his father, a genuinely moving and remarkably brave threnody that evokes pathos, humour, regret and anger. It is rare for such unpretentious poetry to be so subtle and complex, and equally rare for an elegy to evoke the person and their absence so convincingly. An articulate, powerful book.

Also try: Owen O’Neill, Volcano Dancing

THE SINK

Jeffrey Robinson

Constable, 18.99

Money-laundering is now the third-biggest business on Earth: just one of the facts that startle in Robinson’s expos of offshore banking, terrorism and fraud. The book is slightly marred by a hard-boiled, Chandleresque tone, seemingly adopted for fear that the reader’s attention will slip when coming to accountancy and tax legislation. Nonetheless it is a chilling, gripping read with practical suggestions as well as gruesome statistics. It seems rampant dishonesty is not the enemy of global capitalism but its natural state.

Also try: Mark Potts, Dirty Money

MAILMAN

J Robert Lennon

Granta, 15.99

Albert Lippincott, the postal worker hero of Lennon’s novel, is an exquisitely quirky creation. At first sight he’s almost a blank, but as the narrative unfurls - introducing crackpot theories, Kazakhstan and surreptitious mail thefts - he is transformed into a baroque, tragic Everyman. Lennon writes like an expansive Raymond Carver, and this superb and genuinely moving novel reveals him as a name to watch. Although the pace slackens towards the end, the brooding, poetic melancholy more than compensates.

Also try: Patrick Hamilton, The Slaves of Solitude