Scott Bradfield writes about America like the part-time expat he is. Living half in London, half in the United States, Bradfield keeps a wary distance from his homeland, employing his outcast narrators to do his dirty work: sneaking into suburban neighborhoods and peering into bedroom windows just to reaffirm that a home is nothing but nails and wood. It makes for a creepy reading experience. His first novel, The History of Luminous Motion (1989), chronicled life on the road as observed through the untamed imagination of an adolescent boy, wandering with his mother through a series of collapsing interpersonal relationships. A sparkling prose belied the grim circumstances. More than twenty years later, Bradfield's fifth novel, The People Who Watched Her Pass By, is a yet bleaker, less luminous take on itinerancy
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