Far From Brooklyn

Decider, by Dick Francis

Wow, have I read a lot of books by Dick Francis. It’s a guilty pleasure.

This isn’t one of his best (“Whip Hand” tops them all, I think) but it’s not bad because it’s set in the racing world from which Francis hails, so it’s at least a decent read.

As Francis has grown older, his books have become sort of baroque, and I don’t mean that in a kind way. He’s pretty old now and except for the dynamic of the racetrack he appears not to know anything except in the way of a researcher (probably a paid researcher, too, so it’s even further removed.)  So his later books combine expert descriptions of race tracks with equally inexpert descriptions of other pastimes and vocations.  You’re always grateful when the action shifts back to the track.