At 79 years of age, Harry Selwyn still runs. He also brags about the time he ran with the Kalenjin: a remarkable tribe that has won more Olympic medals than any other nation. But Harry wants us to understand that, although he was certainly in Kenya during the last, bloody days of imperial rule, he had nothing to do with the dreadful events that took place there. ‘I was only guarding the compound,’ he says.
Harry Selwyn is a master of detachment – from the realities of the past, from his own ageing body, and from his conscience. Even the sudden death of his wife is not allowed to interfere with the daily routine. He must prepare for tomorrow’s race. He must return his ill-fitting trousers to the shop. He must cook a fish meal for his brother. And death will have to wait.
‘One of Wales’s most exciting authors.’ Taliesin
‘Reading Ras Olaf Harri Selwyn was an intense and unnerving experience. I honestly can’t remember a time I’ve felt so completely immersed in the psyche of another human being, albeit a fictional character.’ New Welsh Review
‘Without effort, Tony Bianchi holds a pin so close to the narrative that it puckers the taut surface, makes it squeak, stretch and distort – but withholds the bang. As morning slips into afternoon and then evening, every snippet of Harri’s life, past and present, is freighted with the significance of not being the discovery he will inevitably make.’ Planet