Category: Reread Project Page 3 of 4

Mass Market Paperback, 216 pg.
Del Rey Books, 1995 (originally, 1979)
Read: January 14 – 15, 2015

If I’m not really careful, this will be the longest thing I ever post here. Let’s see how much restraint I have, shall we?

I think I read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for the first time in 1987 (maybe 1988), and have read it countless times since then. I quote it all the time (frequently unconsciously and unintentionally) — I think I’ve even plagiarized it a couple of times (really unintentionally). The only reason that my PIN isn’t 4242 is because it seems to be too obvious. I love this book. Rereading it is still fun. Even though I have paragraphs committed to memory, I can hear large portions of it in the voices of the original radio play actors, still the act of reading it is enjoyable, it’s like coming home after a long day at work.

The fixation on digital watches seems so quaint. It starts in the first paragraph and doesn’t really let up until late in the book. I so wish Adams was with us to see what he’d do with our smartphone addictions.

So much of what Adams does here has been repeated by others that he inspired, it’s tough to see some of it as fresh anymore, but he didn’t so much break the mold as ignored it and accidentally created a new one.

The Vogons are fantastic creatures. From the description of their evolutionary process — abandoned though it may be — their anatomy, their inherent meanness, to the commentary on civil servants. Just a fun alien race to read about. But is Adams satisfied with that? No. He adds the monstrosity that is their poetry (and the swipe at the old schoolmate) and they near perfection.

The Babel fish, what can you say about that? They are inspired. They take care of a problem that every space-bound Science Fiction story has to deal with in a way that’s actually more believable than technology-based solutions (Doctor Who does the same thing a bit less convolutedly, but less amusingly, too).

The Python-esque dialogue of the representatives of the Amalgamated Union of Philosophers, Sages, Luminaries and Other Thinking Persons. Is just a delight and picks up what could be a lull in the story.

Another little bonus that’s easy to over look is cop ex machina appearance of the Blagulon Kappa police officers — they’re a great commentary on law enforcement, notions of masculinity, depictions of both in the media — and how all three were undergoing a change at the time.

Strip away all the laughs, the jokes, the satire, the general zaniness and you still have a decent story — not a great one, mind you, but a decent one. There’s some good character work here, too — but it’s hard to see. The reactions of both Arthur and Trillian to the destruction of Earth are a lot deeper and real then Adams needed to make them. Unfortunately, that’s about all the good that Adams does with Trillian. Arthur still has some good treatment in his future.

It’s not perfect, don’t get me wrong — there are some problems with the characters (see Trillian), it being an adaptation of the radio program makes things a bit episodic with clunky transitions, and other hiccups (like the multiple introductions of Ford Prefect). Still, the highs are higher than the lows are low and there are a lot more of them.

“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
“This must be Thursday. . . I never could get the hang of Thursdays.”
“You’d better be prepared for the jump into hyperspace. It’s unpleasantly like being drunk.”
“What’s so unpleasant about being drunk?”
“You ask a glass of water.”
(I’m not sure why, but this has always made me chuckle, if not actually laugh out loud. It’s just never not funny)
“He had found a Nutri-Matic machine which had provided im with a plastic cup filled with a liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.”
“In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centuari. And all dared to brave unknown terrors, to do mighty deeds, to boldly split infinitives that no man had split before . . . “
“Look,” said Arthur, “would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?”
Slartibartfast
(okay, not technically a line, but that name…c’mon)

It’s a classic, you just need to read it if you haven’t. If you have, is it time for a re-read?

—–

5 Stars
(only because I don’t have time to make a 6-star graphic) 6 out of 5 stars, easy.

Reread Project: Suspect by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On November 6, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

Suspect

by Robert Crais

Hardcover, 309 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2013

Read: November 3, 2015

This isn’t steel and nylon. It’s nerve. You clip one end to you, you clip the other to this animal, it ain’t for dragging him down the street. You feel him through this nerve, and he feels you, and what flows through here flows both ways — anxiety, fear, discipline, approval — right through this nerve without you and your dog ever even having to look at each other, without you ever having to say a word. He can feel it, and you can feel it. too.

Thus spake Dominick Leland, LAPD K-9 corps’ sergeant and alpha. It’s that kind of devotion to the animals that characterizes this book. These people take their dogs seriously (well, it takes Scott a little bit, but that’s the point), almost too seriously.^*

Someone on the Facebook Robert Crais FanClub mentioned re-reading this to prepare for the release next week of Crais’ The Promise which will feature (who knows how much) the two stars of this novel. Seemed like such a good idea, I pounced on it, too. So glad I did, I remember really liking this book, but I didn’t remember how much I really, really, really liked this book.

This is the story of two partners grieving the loss of their most recent partners, and recovering from wounds both physical and psychological while trying to move past the trauma by gearing up for a new assignment for the future. One of the pair is a once-SWAT-bound LAPD officer, and the other is a former explosive sniffing German Shepherd with the Marines in Afghanistan. Which adds a bit of novelty to the situation.

That Prologue is one of the most effective opening chapters I can think of — it’s like the first ten minutes or so of Pixar’s Up — warmth, purpose, courage, heartbreak — there’s almost nothing more you could ask of it.

I love the way Crais describes Maggie’s sniffing/scenting for work. For that matter, Maggie’s perspective in general is great — not goofy or cartoonish, played for laughs or anything like that. Sure, some of it is projection, some of it is just guess-work, some of it is poetic license — but it’s all good, authentic, writing.

I guess the same could be said for what Officer Scott James goes through — I don’t know what PTSD is like, really. I just know about it from various literary/dramatic sources. But this sure seems to work — the guilt, the fear, the stress, the nightmares, the obsession, it rings as true. Granted, Maggie’s got a greater emotional pull (who doesn’t love a good dog?), and is a little less familiar than Scott — but at least we can relate to his suffering and him.

As with almost everything Crais writes, this takes place in the world inhabited by Elvis Cole, Joe Pike and the rest. We see that by a brief interaction between one of the detectives and John Chen (who as also mentioned by name earlier). Brief interactions with Chen are probably the best for all involved, and here he was John Chen at his John Chen-iest — I just love it. Although thanks to Gotham, I’m getting an Edward Nigma-vibe off of him, thankfully, I know better. (right?)

From the start, this gets you right in the emotions, and Crais keeps you there. You’re drawn to Maggie, and because of her, Scott. You get invested more easily than with other new characters because of Maggie With about 40 pages to go, even though I knew how it ended, I still was tense. That’s good writing. Period. End of discussion. And for the record, my eyes totally did not get misty at the end, I don’t know why you’d ask.

When I blogged about this back in 2013, I said “I don’t think this is the best Crais novel . . .but, given the way this worms into your heart, it’s probably my favorite.” It’s still probably not his best, but it’s better than I thought it was initially (I was more concerned with plot and character than craft, I think) — probably in the top 5, and it is my favorite so far.

—–

^* Yeah, totally kidding. Not possible to be too serious about your dog.

—–

5 Stars

Reread Project: The Van by Roddy Doyle

By HCNewton

On September 2, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Reread Project, Roddy Doyle

The Van

by Roddy Doyle
Series: The Barrytown Trilogy, #3

Trade Paperback, 311 pg.
Minerva, 1991
Read: August 25 – , 2015
Jimmy Rabbitte, Sr. started off as a supporting character in The Commitments, moved up to co-star in The Snapper, and finally moves to the forefront in The Van, which is more about him than the other two were about any one person. Which isn’t to say that Jimmy, Jr., Sharon, Veronica, Darren and the twins aren’t here, they’re just in the background — as are most of Jimmy, Sr.’s friends (actually, I think Jr.’s in this far more than he was The Snapper).

Not only is the focus more narrow, the final installment in the trilogy is different in other ways — it’s almost 100 pages longer (depending on the printing) than The Snapper which was about 50 pages longer than The Commitments. Which gives Doyle more space to do things he hadn’t really before. It’s still primarily told through heavily stylized In the first 90 pages, I estimated I’d read more (significantly more) narration than I did in the first two volumes of the trilogy.

It’s not been clear before what Jimmy did for a living, but whatever it was, it was pretty clear the bills were barely paid. They stretched what they had pretty far, but they seemed to manage. Somewhere along the line, pretty sure it was post-Snapper, but I’m not sure, Jimmy lost his job. Unemployment isn’t setting well with him — he can’t support his family, he’s bored, he can’t even go down to the pub to have a few pints with his friends.

Jimmy’s trying to grow — he’s reading the classics. Thinking of taking some classes. But it’s not enough. At some point his friend, Bimbo, also gets laid off. The two spend a lot of time together — having a companion in his unemployment makes the whole thing tolerable for Jimmy — almost like summer vacation from school. Bimbo isn’t quite as accepting of this new reality — he almost applies to work at McDonald’s, but is shamed out of it by Jimmy. Bimbo’s wife is even less satisfied with his job status. Which leads to a reckless move on Bimbo’s part — reckless, yet maybe inspired — he uses some of his last dollars on a Chip Van (minus an engine). In the midst of the U.S.’ current Food Truck craze, this might not seem so risky, but in the early 90s? (then again, what do I know of early 90’s Dublin, other than what I’ve picked up from Doyle’s novels and the movies based on them?)

They’ve just a few weeks until the World Cup games start when they hope they can cash in on the post-game crowds. So Jimmy and Bimbo rush to clean the, learn to cook, design a menu, etc. And now you’ve got yourself a plot — can these two make a go of this? Can they remain friends and co-workers? Will they start a grease fire that destroys the whole of Barrytown?

There was, it seemed to me, a maturing of Jimmy that started back in The Snapper. Not that he wasn’t a good father before, but he kicked it into a higher gear with Sharon during her pregnancy. Here, that seems to manifest itself in a paternal pride — Junior’s having some sort of success out there, is getting married; his other son, Darren, is doing very well in school (better than anyone else in the family, that’s sure). Part of Jimmy’s reaction to it is finding pleasure in someone else’s success for what it means to them. I’m not convinced that the Jimmy of The Commitments or the first part of The Snapper could do that.

That’s not to say that he’s Man of the Year material or anything. There are some real (human) flaws to him. He’s petty, he’s jealous, he’s proud — there’s some sort of mid-life crisis that he’s got a half-hearted interest in involving Other Women. As in all good fiction, these just make him someone you can like, someone you can relate to, someone you can get annoyed with — even pity.

There’s some great, great stuff about sports fans here — national pride around The World Cup, the joy in sports, the very real camaraderie that can exist for a few moments around a shared experience. That’s not my typical milieu, but I’ve tasted it a time or two — and I can’t imagine many capture it better than Doyle did here. Even if I didn’t like the rest of the book, I think that part would’ve been worth it.

In the end, this is Doyle’s best work (to date), not the most enjoyable, but the best. It’s impossible after reading this, to ignore Jimmy, Sr.’s brief appearances in The Commitments, to not pull for him earlier than you should in The Snapper, and really to forget him. Just a great character in a world you really don’t want to leave.

—–

4 Stars

Reread Project: The Snapper by Roddy Doyle

By HCNewton

On July 10, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Fiction, Reread Project, Roddy Doyle

The Snapper

by Roddy Doyle
Series: The Barrytown Trilogy, #2

Paperback, 212 pg.

Penguin, 1992

Read: May 20 – 21, 2015Naturally, after one of the best rock band novels ever — one fully of music, laughs, and style — Doyle follows it up with a heartfelt story of a young woman who gets pregnant after a one-night stand. Who wouldn’t?

Now, Sharon (the young woman in question) is the sister of Jimmy Rabbitte — The Commitments’ manager. So there is a tie — and we saw a little of their father and the rest of the family last time. Still, this feels so different, it’s hard to conceive of them being part of a trilogy. Oh well — it works — so who cares?. Carried along by Doyle’s inimitable style, this story — which could easily have been maudlin, overly sentimental, or sappy; comes across as genuine and heartfelt instead.
Where The Commitments was full of laughs, raunch, and style; The Snapper is full of laughs, family and heart. It’s not just about one member of the family this time — it’s all of them. The focus is on Sharon and her father, Jimmy, Sr.

Sharon finds herself “up the pole,” much to her distress. She knows who the father is, a one-night stand (something far less meaningful, actually) she wishes had never happened. Unwilling to let anyone know the father’s real identity, she makes one up (which also relieves her of the need to let the real guy have anything to do with the kid). Initially, she’s in sort of a denial — she knows the baby will change everything. But that’s months away — right now, she and her friends can still hit the pub after she gets off working at the supermarket and pretend that everything’s just like it was a couple of weeks ago. Eventually, she starts to make the changes necessary, but only when she has to. There’s personal growth here for Sharon, when she has no choice. But honestly — other than questionable taste in men, and an utter lack of awareness about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome — she seems like she’s got her head screwed on right already.

Jimmy, Sr. seems like the kind of guy you’d like to hang out in a pub with occasionally — I think he (and his friends) would get old quickly if you hung out with them all the time. Generous, funny, and gregarious. Maybe not the most responsible guy around — but he’s making ends meet (mostly), and doing (almost) his best for his kids. Eventually, he seems to get his act together for Sharon — or at least he tries. Which just makes you like him more — even as (because?) he just doesn’t make it some times.

While these two are on the forefront of Doyle’s attention, we do get some time with Sharon’s siblings (even Jimmy, Jr. — a little bit — who’s still trying to make it in the music business) and long-suffering mother. We watch the family stumble along through financial woes, various school clubs, a bicycle club or two, and being the subject of neighborhood gossip. These all might not be as well-rounded as Sharon and her father are, but they’re close enough that you think you know them.

Back in college, I read The Commitments a lot — but I think I read The Snapper more. It’s not as fun as its predecessor, but it’s a better novel — populated with actual people, actual growth, and something that looks a lot like actual life for many people. The Rabbites could be your neighbors, and you’d be happy to have them, which makes getting to spend time with them between the covers of a book just that pleasant.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Reread Project: The Commitments by Roddy Doyle

By HCNewton

On April 17, 2015

In Authors, Blog Series, Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Reread Project, Roddy Doyle

The Commitments

by Roddy Doyle
Series: The Barrytown Trilogy, #1

Paperback, 165 pg.
Vintage Contemporaries, 1987
Read: April 15, 2015

Will yeh please put your workin’ class hands together for your heroes. The Saviours o’ Soul, The Hardest Workin’ Band in the World, —Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes —The Commitments.

This is a tough one for me to talk about — I’m a long-time fan, I’ve read it a dozen or so times, it’s all I can do to not turn total fan-boy and just gush. eh, I might not try too hard.

My college roommates and I became fans of the music video for “Try a Little Tenderness” from the soundtrack for the movie adaptation, and we waited for what seemed like a interminable amount of time before the movie came to the art-house theater in town. I loved it from the opening sequence on and tracked down the novel the next day. It blew my mind (for reasons I’ll get into in a bit), and I read it a dozen or so times over the few years until I loaned it (and the rest of the trilogy) to someone at work. Naturally, I never saw him again (I ended up with a copy of Gaines’ A Lesson Before Dying and another book in the transaction). I finally let myself buy a replacement copy a few years ago (found a used copy with the same cover), and have now read it twice. And, if anything, my appreciation grows each time.

It’s the late 80’s and three young Dubliners (from the poorest part of Dublin) have formed a band — sort of. Not everyone in it are musicians yet, but they’re working on it. Thanks to the direction of their keyboard (defined in the loosest possible way) player, they’re going to play synth-pop and go by the name “And And! And” (and, yes, I got the exclamation point in the right place). Their first order of business (while learning how to play) is to hire a manager. Jimmy Rabbitte is the guy from their school/neighborhood who’s the area’s music/music industry expert. As evidenced by the fact that he’s the first one anybody knew of that was aware of Frankie Goes to Hollywood — and, even greater — he’s the first to realize how bad they were. Jimmie gets things going immediately by dropping the name (especially that !) and the keyboard player.

Instead, they’re going to play American soul music — and then put an Irish twist on it — local slang, geographic references, and so on. Jimmie puts an ad in the paper to recruit some musicians, hits up a coworker he heard at a company party, and so on. As a result, he collects a very strange crew of musicians — including a trumpet player decades older than the rest of them, with plenty of professional experience (the trumpet in “All You Need is Love,” for example). The rest, as they say, is history.

The story of The Commitments is told through a very unconventional prose and dialogue style. It’s like Doyle took Leonard’s 10 Rules to the furthest point possible (other than #7, which he violates in every line). You can hear these characters talk, you can feel the energy in the room — heck, this book comes closer to capturing musical performances better than anything this side of Memorex or vinyl. Couldn’t tell you what anyone looks like (well, The Commitmentettes are pretty attractive — especially Imelda), what their homes are like, the weather, or anything of that other stuff that tends to fill the pages of novels. But I can tell you what happened, to whom, and how all related reacted. Which is good enough for me.

This isn’t one of those books that gives you diminishing returns upon re-reading. It’s fresh (while dated — no idea how Doyle pulls that off), funny, and full of soul. Dublin soul, of course. Just like the rag-tag musicians that come to life in its pages.

Oh, if you can get your hands on the soundtrack albums (or find them streaming somewhere) to listen to while reading, it makes it all better (even though there’s almost no overlap between songs).

—–

5 Stars

Reread Project: The Last Detective by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On October 21, 2014

In Authors, Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

The Last Detective

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #9

Hardcover, 320 pgs.
Doubleday, 2003
Read: October 1 – 2, 2014

The Last Detective begins a few months after the L. A. Requiem and Joe Pike is trying to get himself back in fighting shape after his devastating injuries in exactly the place you’d expect — the Alaskan wilderness (isn’t that where’d you go?). Joe’s looking more mortal than he had since the shooting in The Monkey’s Raincoat, but like the tattoos indicate, he’s moving forward. While there he encounters an Alaskan brown bear? The way Crais describes it (which seems pretty realistic), if you stop and think about it — that’s horror, that’s terror. Hannibal Lecter, Martin Vanger, Alex Kork — that’s fiction, that’s fantasy. Brown bear? That’s reality. A reality I hope never to know better than I do now. But, this isn’t Joe Pike starring in Man vs. Wild, so we’re off to L. A.

Elvis and Ben Chenier are hanging out for a few days while Ben’s mom is out of town, Elvis and Lucy are still trying to recover from the hit their relationship took in Requiem. Ben goes off to play outside while Elvis is on the phone with Lucy, and then he doesn’t come back. Elvis gets scared, finds his video game laying in the brush below Elvis’ house. It’s not too long afterwards that they get a call — the boy didn’t get lost, he didn’t run away — he was abducted.

The investigation gets into full swing fairly quickly — Elvis calls in some favors from the police to help. Here we meet investigator Carol Starkey (from Crais’ Demolition Angel) who vacillates between appreciating Elvis’ investigatory skills and being annoyed with him. Lucy’s ex comes in, pushing his investigators into the investigation, trying to push Elvis out and generally making life difficult for him. Richard clearly has an Elvis-shaped chip on his shoulder and uses this circumstance to throw dirt on his ex-wife’s new love.

It seems that Ben’s kidnapping is related in some way to what Elvis did in Vietnam, and both the reader and those involved in the investigation learn a lot about something that Elvis thought he was done talking about. What some people called his secrets, he saw differently:

I wasn’t keeping secret. Some things are better left behind, that’s all, you move past and go on. That’s what I’ve tried to do, and not just about the war.

Elvis’ life before and during the war weren’t wonderful, and he’s tried to go on. But that’s no longer an option — he has to revisit a lot of that, which Lucy doesn’t react well to.

On the one hand, I’m still liking Lucy less and less for more of the same that I complained about last time. But that’s not to say I disagree with her — when she tells Joe Pike that the way he and Elvis live isn’t normal.

I don’t like the way violence follows you; you and him. I’ve known police officers all my life, and none of them live like this. I know federal and state prosecutors who’ve spent years building cases against murderers and mob bosses, and none of them have their children stolen . . . I am normal! I want to be normal! Are you so perverted that you think this is normal? It isn’t! It is insane!

. She’s right. But . . . well, see what I said last time. I sympathize, but I still don’t like her any more.

Now, this isn’t just a manhunt for the kidnappers — there’s plenty for Elvis to investigate, a few twist and turns and — of course, secrets unearthed and a decent helping of violence. The emotional toll these events take is worse than anything else, all things considered.

Although the focus is on Elvis and the search for Ben. We do learn a little more about Pike (no problems between he and the LAPD this time). We get a different explanation for Joe’s need for order and cleanliness than I’d surmised from Requiem, but it’s probably a combination. I’m only talking about it so much because for so long it’s what little we knew about him — he liked his Jeep spotless and everything immaculate. Joe displays his typical loyalty to Elvis here — it’s typical for him, it’s out-of-place in today’s world on the whole. He even takes on a debt that sets up a future book, a detail I hadn’t really paid attention to until now, but it was a huge move on his part.

John Chen returns — and is again helped to gain a bit of the spotlight he so craves, but he’s got skills of his own (and is probably learning a good deal from Joe and Elvis). He’s still a not good guy, really, but you can’t help but like him. I had a brief moment of fan-boy excitement when everyone’s favorite Vietnam Tunnel Rat turned LAPD detective puts in a cameo. It really helped lighten the oppressive mood. It was nice to see him in these pages, it was nicer still that it happened when it did.

This is the most intense, fastest-paced Elvis Cole novel yet. It’s all forward momentum (see Pike’s tattoos yet again — Crais isn’t the only one who can overuse them as a symbol). Part of this — maybe a large part of this — has to do with the fact that it’s a kidnapping case, every minute counts. It certainly doesn’t hurt that every chapter leads off with “X Hours, Y Minutes” since the kidnapping.

This is really great stuff here. Even though I remembered why the various villains were up to their villainy, seeing it revealed to Elvis still got me riled up as it was intended to, and though I knew how both the kidnapping and related stories wrapped up, I was still glued to the pages, turning as fast as I could. Which is the sign of a master of suspense writing — that even when there’s no suspense, the reader is still reacting as if there was.

—–

5 Stars

—–

Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On October 13, 2014

In Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #8

Mass Market Paperback, 539 pages
Published October 3rd 2002 by Pocket
Read: September 24 – 25, 2014

I know that I’ve read this one at least twice previously, but you wouldn’t have been able to prove it last week when I started my re-read of it. I’d spent the last few weeks while planning this series (and probably years before it), convinced that the events of The Last Detective happened in this book — and that the back story revealed here was revealed a couple of books earlier.

Not only that, I’d forgotten this was where we met John Chen! I’d even forgot that he was on the horizon! Sure, John Chen is a despicable, slimey guy. But there’s something about him I liked — even here, before any of his redeeming qualities are found (developed?), there’s something about John that’s likeable. He’s a creep, but he’s Pike’s creep.

Still, I’d clearly forgotten just about everything meaningful about this novel — at least as far as plot goes. I remember what I learned about Pike (but, as I said, thought I learned it elsewhere). Making this a lot of fun to reread. Which is, I guess, the whole point of rereading.

Anyway, to the book itself:

One of my all-time favorite movies is Midnight Run, if you haven’t watched it, shame on you. Really. There’s no excuse. Go rectify that situation. As you’ll recall, Jonathan Mardukus torments the bounty hunter bringing him back to LA with the question, “Why are you so unpopular with the Chicago police department?” Throughout this series, astute readers have likely been asking a similar question: “Why is Joe Pike so unpopular with the Los Angeles police department?” — at least I have (which is not to say you’re an astute reader if you haven’t been asking the question I have — clearly, you’re astute. And good looking. With a great sense of humor). Except for the times when the detectives have hard to travel out of town, we’ve seen animosity to outright hatred in the LAPD’s reaction to Joe (with the exception of Det. Angela Rossi). In these pages, we finally learn why (it’s an understandable, yet, mistaken reason — naturally). But we learn a lot more about him, here, too: the foundation for his obsession with keeping his jeep clean, why he’s driven in many of the ways that he is, and more — but this isn’t just a series of flashbacks — all we learn about Joe serves the main story as well as the character.

For a little change of pace here in book 8, Joe Pike brings in the client. In this case, it’s the father of a woman Joe dated back when he was a police officer, things ended badly, but not so badly that Frank Garcia has lost any respect for Joe. So when Karen goes missing one day, and the police won’t help him yet, Frank turns to Joe for help. Joe, naturally, brings Elvis along for this investigation.

The events that turned Pike into LAPD’s Most Hated are related to the outcome of this case — and not just because it makes every cop willing to believe the worst in Joe and not look too hard for an alternative explanation when Joe becomes a suspect. His partner jailed, the police hostile to any efforts to seek another suspect, the Karen Garcia case becomes Elvis’ most personal case yet (until the next book).

The various police officers and detectives involved in this book are just horrible — bordering on cartoonishly bad at the beginning. Not necessarily bad at their jobs, just bad human beings. Thankfully, Crais isn’t that kind of writer, and you learn there’s actually a reason for these men and women to act this way. Garcia’s able to use his political clout to force the detectives assigned to the case to let Elvis observe them, read their reports and whatnot. Which is resented (and not just because of Joe), particularly by the detective who’s forced to act as his liaison, Samantha Dolan. Dolan eventually softens to a degree, and her relationship with Cole acts as a precursor/template for another coming soon in Elvis’ life.

I’m going to break my anti-spoiler policy here, and rant a bit. If you want to read it, use your mouse to select the following paragraph:
Lucy, Lucy, Lucy — I am so disappointed in you. Of course Elvis is going to choose to help Joe here. Of course, he’s going to put his life on the line for his partner (who’s saved his life more than once). Of course, Elvis is going to bend the law (at best), going to pull out all the stops to find the killer and save Joe. What did you think he was going to do? Stop being Elvis? How did you two meet? What lengths did Elvis go to in order to help out these complete strangers and the woman who lied to him and fired him? And then what did he do for those kids, after you forced him to help? Not to mention the case that got you your job in L.A.? I get it, you’re in a vulnerable place, you’ve changed your whole life thanks to Elvis and you feel like he owes you a bit. But before you moved to L. A. you knew who he was. You knew the kind of man he was and what kind of dangerous work he did. I started disliking Lucy here, and that only grows in the next book (even if I sympathize with her more there), so that when she shows up in The Forgotten Man I don’t even want to see her.

Nothing is simple about this case — not the mystery, not the motive for the killings, not the various motives for the investigators, not the lives of those touched by the crimes/criminals/investigators. It’s all complicated, messy and very human.

In the end, this is Crais’ masterpiece. Which isn’t to say that he hasn’t written some very satisfying and enjoyable books after this — many of which I like more. But nothing’s as good as this one. This brings us to a new stage in the Cole books — one that continues to this day. I might contrast the two stages a bit more in the weeks to come (maybe during/after The Forgotten Man or maybe to go along with The Promise), almost making them two different series. And yes, I miss the old Elvis — but that’s not to say there’s a problem with the new one, it’s just noting a difference. It’s haunting, it’s disturbing, and will affect any reader that has an emotional connection to the partners. Really well done. Oh, and as a bonus, the last 3 or 4 pages are just gorgeous — probably the most “writerly” writing that Crais has done yet.

—–

5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: Indigo Slam by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On September 23, 2014

In Authors, Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

Indigo Slam

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #7

Mass Market Paperback, 320 pg.
Fawcett Books, 2003
Read: September 16 – 17, 2014

This, right here, is the low point for the Elvis Cole series. So why, you ask, do you give this 3 stars? Am I just that much of a mindless fanboy?

Well, probably. But that’s not it. One’s appreciation for this novel has everything to do with what you think of the clients. If you like them, see something in them that teaches us something about Elvis — you’ll probably like this book. If not, well, this’ll likely be a tougher read for you. Now, me? I liked the kids, especially Teri, the Fifteen year-old eldest sister, and substitute mom. Little sister Winona’s clearly adorable, Charles is a punk clearly in need of a strong male authority figure. Either individually, or considered as a group, I liked the kids — and therefore, when they ask the World’s Greatest Detective to find their absentee dad – I cared.

If it was almost anyone else looking for their dad, Clark, I can’t imagine caring. Once Elvis found him, I quickly reached the point where I didn’t care if Elvis was able to help him, as long as the kids would be alright.

Towards the end of the book, both Elvis and Joe make a major blunder that almost gets all of them killed. And sure, I don’t necessarily expect the two to have everything worked out before they take action — but there was evidence enough that they could’ve been on their toes security-wise and not almost got killed in the process. Not only do they miss the pretty obvious conclusion, they don’t even see that there’s a conclusion to be found. I’ve read Indigo four times now, and it distracts and detracts each time.

What makes Elvis’ (and, to be fair, Joe’s) blunder so egregious, was that it was hot on the heels of Elvis’ latest cunning plan. Some of these plans he comes up with to get his clients/clients’ families out of hot water stretch credulity, this one takes the cake. As Blackadder would say, it’s “a plan so cunning, you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel!” I can’t believe that anyone would go along with it — beyond the desperate family, that is — but not only do a group of criminals/revolutionaries, but Elvis gets multiple federal agencies to sign off. And it works. Mostly.

But somehow the book works. For two independent reasons: 1. As I stated previously, because of the clients — I bought into them. And 2., Because of the Lucy Story.

There was just something I liked about these kids and their plight — I believed it, I could see it. I enjoyed watching Elvis and Joe interact with them (really sick of Joe as baby sitter, let him do a little more, Elvis!)

There’s a little bit of a Lucy story, not as big as in the last two novels, but it’s there, and it’s an important development of what started in Sunset Express. But more than that, it’s a chance for Elvis to demonstrate the sensitive, caring male that he is. For Lucy to be an independent woman. And for the reader to see that this isn’t going to be a relationship that’s only wine and roses. Yes, Elvis is still the giddy, goofy guy in love making kissy sounds over the phone. But he’s also an adult who respects his partner.

Not a whole lot (other than Joe and Lucy) to tie this one to earlier novels — Elvis continues to use Lou Poitras and Eddie Ditko as his own personal (anachronistic) Google. And Elvis’ actions in Free Fall end up paying off for him, which was nice to see.

In the end, this was pretty blah. There were some nice character moments, a few chuckles, a nice firefight or two..but that’s really it. Not much going for it at all, which is a shame. Not the way that Phase 1 for Elvis Cole should end — but the parts that are a prequel for Phase 2 were strong enough (you’ll have to read L. A. Requiem to better understand that).

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3 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: Sunset Express by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On September 17, 2014

In Authors, Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

Sunset Express by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #6

Hardcover, 288 pg.
Hyperion, 1996
Read: September 10, 2014

There are two stories being told by Crais in this book — yes, interwoven and interdependent — but two stories. The fun one involves Lucy Chenier coming out to LA for work and to see Elvis. She brings along her son to make it a little family vacation. When Elvis gets the news, he becomes a different person than we’ve seen before — or at least a more intense version of something we saw in Voodoo River, but that’s about it. He’s a lovestruck fool — very clearly — and Crais does a great job of portraying him that way. Yes, the World’s Greatest Detective can, of course, get his mind focused on work when necessary, but off the clock, he’s a grinning victim of Cupid. The two of them together are cute, charming, and can’t help but want to see them together a lot more.

The story focusing on Elvis’ professional life isn’t nearly as fun, heartwarming or cute. But Elvis gets to be snarky and ironic, and do the typical Elvis things (investigate, make jokes people don’t get, and even use his fists and gun a little). Jonathan Green — high-profile attorney in the F. Lee Bailey, Robert Shapiro, Johnnie Cochran, etc. mold — and his team of associates (and a camera crew), hire Elvis to help with the defense in the trial of Teddy Martin. Teddy Martin’s a celebrity restaurateur accused of the brutal murder of his wife — a pretty open and shut case, it seems. But Green’s people are getting tips like crazy and they need additional investigators to comb through them. One of the more promising tips involves allegations of one of the detectives in the case planting evidence in previous cases. Elvis agrees to investigate Det. Angela Rossi and track down other tips, but insists he’ll report the truth, not what will necessarily help the case — Green agrees to this, insisting that’s all he wants. Elvis gets to work and finds some quick results. But it’s not too long before he sees a stark discontinuity between what he finds ot about Rossi and other tips and how that information is being used by the defense.

Sunset Express is hindered by having one of those plots that people who read (or watch) a lot of detective novels will realize is problematic in a way the characters can’t. Everything in Elvis’ case moves along too smoothly. Now, in Lullaby Town and Voodoo River, for example, his investigation goes pretty smoothly, but you can tell that the plot complications are going to come from what happens as a result of his work. Here, you can tell there’s something wrong with the answers he’s finding. Yet, Elvis doesn’t have our perspective, he can’t tell he’s getting yanked around. It’s frustrating, just sitting around waiting for things to dawn on him so he can catch up to us.

As frustrating (please note I didn’t say it wasn’t compelling) as that storyline is, the relationship material with Elvis and Lucy (and, with Ben to a lesser degree) is great. The whole book could’ve been built around that (and arguably was) and I’d have been happy. It’s good to see that the two have kept their long-distance relationship going. She’s clearly good for him (and, I think, him for her) — even if the reader can’t tell that for certain, all you have to do is watch how Joe reacts to her.

It wouldn’t be an Elvis Cole book without some good natured humor at Joe’s expense, for example:

I called Joe Pike to tell him that we were once more employed. His answering machine picked up on the first ring and beeped. He used to have a one-word message that just said, “Speak,” but I guess he felt it was long-winded. Now, there was just the beep. When I asked him how people were supposed to know who they had gotten or what to do, he’d said, “Intelligence test.” That Pike is something, isn’t he?

For a good chunk of this novel, it looks like Joe is going to be relegated to baby-sitting Ben. Now, granted, he seems to enjoy Ben and there are few people your kid is going to be safer with, but what a waste of our friend with the Aviator Glasses-fixation.

Of course, Rossi knows Joe. They used to work together back when Joe was on the force, and as of this point in the series, she is the member of the LAPD that doesn’t hate Joe. For more reasons than that, Joe respects her (although that can’t hurt), so when things start to go off the rails for her, Joe insists that his partner step up and clear her name. Joe’s not much help on the investigation front, but in the gun packing (and more), fast driving, and personal intensity departments? He’s aces.

Other little treats in this box of Cracker Jacks? The return of Ray Depente — I’d completely forgotten he came back in this one, and it was so nice to see him. He’s a lot of fun in his couple of scenes. And, Eddie Ditko is back, unpleasant and omniscient as ever.

As Free Fall featured Elvis’ reaction to/stance/meditation on L.A.’s racial divide and police corruption, this gives us his take on the manipulation of the legal system (and a healthy amount of support for the police — particularly in light of Free Fall). Elvis has understood the difference between the legal system and justice, and has worked outside (if not at odds with) the system before in the pursuit of justice. But this time, he was seeking justice — thought he’d helped various people find it — only to find his work, his self, his name used as a tool to twist the system into preventing justice being carried out. His ultimate solution to this problem is very effective, and would likely be far more effective today than it was 18(!!) years ago. Well done, Mr. Cole.

A strong satisfying read, with two storylines well worth reading, Sunset Express is a solid entry to this series, and the first step away from the Elvis Cole of the first stage of the series and into the next (see previous entry for my discussion of this). Sunset and Indigo Slam are the bridge between these stages, but properly belong to the first. Even ignoring my little theory of the stages/eras in the series, this is a strong and well-deserved follow-up to Voodoo River, our heroes are back in L.A., as are the criminals and Elvis lady friend. It’s enough to get another verse out of Randy Newman.

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3.5 Stars

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Drawing by Kirsty Stewart, chameleonkirsty on deviantART, used with permission.

Reread Project: Voodoo River by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On September 9, 2014

In Authors, Blog Series, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Reread Project, Robert Crais

36 hours behind schedule. For anyone tracking, I’m sorry and I’ll try to do better.

—–

Voodoo River

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #5

Mass Market Paperback, 416 pages
Published April 1st 1996 by Hyperion
Read: September 3 – 4, 2014

Many people see L. A. Requiem as the apex of the Cole series. For my money, Voodoo River is the apex of the series that began in The Monkey’s Raincoat — he’s thoughtful, more meditative, yet still jokey. There’s a greater sense of place than in most of the earlier books. Elvis is vulnerable, yet just as competent and confident as he’s been the whole time we’ve known him. I’ll explain my thinking here and different take on Requiem in a few weeks when we get to it.

Once again, we open with a great description of his new client:

“Excuse us, but are you Jodi Taylor?”
In the space of a breath Jodi Taylor put away the things that troubled her and smiled the smile that thirty million Americans saw every week. It was worth seeing. Jodi Taylor was thirty-six years old, and beautiful in the way that only women with a measure of maturity can be beautiful. Not like in a fashion magazine. Not like a model. There was a quality of realness about her that let you feel that you might meet her in a supermarket or in church or at the PTA. She had hazel eyes and dark skin and one front tooth slightly overlapped the other. When she gave you the smile her heart smiled, too, and you felt it was genuine. Maybe it was that quality that was making her a star.
. . .
Jodi smiled wider, and if you had never before met or seen her, in that moment you would fall in love.

When we meet her, Jodi Taylor is the star of one of the biggest shows on television, but thirty-six years ago when no one cared who she was, she was an orphan — given up for adoption by her mother. She was raised by a loving couple who she considers her parents — she’s not on a search for her roots, her “real” mother or anything like that. But she’s curious about her medical history, worried about what genetic time-bombs might be ticking away inside her. So she hires Elvis — on the recommendation of Peter Alan Nelson — to go to Louisiana and work with an attorney specializing in adoption to find her birth parents and get this information.

Despite the strictness of the adoption laws in the Pelican State, it seems like a pretty straight-forward case, and after arriving in Baton Rouge, sampling some local cuisine, and consulting with the attorney, Lucy Chenier, Elvis gets to work and it doesn’t take long for him to make some solid progress.

Here’s where complications set in: someone starts trailing Elvis as he investigates, this person seems to have some sort of criminal ties, and the biggest complication of all: Lucy Chenier. Elvis is smitten with her. Almost immediately, and more and more so in every conversation afterwards. This isn’t some sort of passing fancy, as was the case with Janet Simon; or the creepy, drunken attraction for Jennifer Sheridan; or whatever he had going with his office neighbor, Cindy. Elvis falls for this woman, hard. That’s clear for the reader straightaway, the only question is what impact that’ll have on Elvis, his current investigation, and maybe his future. Elvis even has the beginning of a relationship with her son, Ben.

As for the guy following him? He’s not that good at it, and he’s even worse at picking up a tail. Elvis is able to exploit his deficient skills and learn a few things that get him closer to finding Jodi’s mother. And that’s when things get really nasty — Elvis finds himself in the middle of a decades’ old crime, a murder investigation and caught between three criminal organizations. Given that, naturally, Joe finds himself in Louisiana, too.

So the first of the criminal enterprises is a local group — run by a good ol’ boy-type. Milt Rossier isn’t going to catch the attention of anyone i New York, Miami or even New Orleans. But in his small pond, he is one huge fish. He does a little bit of everything, has some very loyal employees (including a scary George and Lenny like pair) and an old, huge and vicious turtle named Luther. Luther is described as “a snapping turtle that had to be three feet across and weigh almost two hundred pounds. It was dark and primordial with a shell like tank armor and a great horned head and a monstrous beak.” Gives me the heebie-jeebies just to read about him. Milt reminded me of Domingo Garcia Duran from The Monkey’s Raincoat, using toreo to intimidate and threaten Elvis. However, Duran only served to anger Elvis, make him more determined. Milt and Luther? They brought out something we’d not yet seen in Elvis — we’ve sen him angry, we’ve seen him morose, we’ve seen him lost, but after his session with Luther? He’s shaken, he’s frightened to his core. I don’t know if it’s Milt, the reaction of the others there, or just Elvis’ reaction to the reptilian Luther versus the human threat of Duran — but it’s something deeper we see here.

Another one of the groups that Elvis tangles with is headed by Frank Escobar. Escobar’s a criminal mastermind who looks nothing like what you’d expect (which likely means he’s more realistic than the rest), he’s this friendly middle-aged guy with a hospitable wife and kid. Just hanging out having gin and tonics next to the pool, the kind f guy you want as a neighbor. Until he gets angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry. He’s the kind of crook that I’d love to read more about.

As far as the third? Well, we don’t get to know them too much — it’s basically Escobar’s group, but larger and with a head who’s not so cuddly.

You put Elvis in the middle of all that while trying to sort out one family’s problems — past and present? Well, it’ll take he and Joe at the top of their game. Hopefully Elvis can get his head cleared enough, but at least we don’t have to worry about Joe — I’m not sure that Joe has anything but the top of his game.

Elvis’ jokes are there, but they’re subdued. Elvis has found himself in the middle of some really nasty stuff — the adoption as well as the criminal activity he stumbled into — and it’s hard to joke his way through it, but he does as often as possible. Still, there is room for him to be something other than just the crime-fighter. As long as Lucy Chenier’s around, Elvis will make time.

When they first meet, Elvis asks her out — and is turned down, after all, they work together. He keeps after her, and while I’m not saying he wore her down, she eventually takes him to dinner at a local restaurant. What follows is possibly the funniest thing in the series so far as Elvis tries to 1. be charming, 2. not get drunk and 3. keep things cool with Lucy. But he does something right, probably later, because they have another dinner or two together, and well, a lot more.

Later, when things are going better, Elvis will spend time with Lucy and Ben at home enjoying a quiet evening hanging out and watching Star Trek: The Next Generation:

It was the one where you follow the android, Data, through a twenty-four-hour period in his life, most of which is spent attempting to comprehend the vagaries of the humans around him. The fun comes in watching the logical, emotionless Data try to make sense of the human condition, which is akin to trying to make sense of the senseless. He never quite gets it, but he always keeps trying, writing endless programs for his android brain, trying to make the calculus of human behavior add up. When you think about it, that is not so different from what I do.

Yeah, it’s a little heavy-handed, but I liked it.

Of course, Joe and Lucy met. And it’s fun to read.

“It was a pleasure, Joe. You’re an interesting man.”
Pike said, “Yes.”
Lucy gave me a kiss, then let herself out and went into her building. I twisted around in the seat and looked at Joe. “She says you’re interesting and you say yes?”
Pike got out of the back and into the front. “Did you want me to lie?”

We see something new happen to Pike here. But — see that one for yourself. It’s refreshing (like in Lullaby Town) to see Pike interact with the police without pushback or resentment (or something worse). There’s plenty of opportunity for Elvis’ warrior friend to do what he does best. There’s even some opportunities for Elvis and Joe to just hang out, work out together, and talk. They get to interact as friends a little, not just partners. We need to see more of this. At one point, we get what’s possibly Pike’s biggest speech since the one he gave Ellen Lang in Monkey and just as on point. He really helps Elvis keep his head when he disappoints Jodi. Lots of warm fuzzies are to be had there.

There’s some interesting things said here about honor (not in the way that Parker does, it’s under the dialogue and narration, almost never the subject of it), conscience, and duty. Really, there’s a straight line from Elvis assuring Ellen Lang that he’d help her, through tearing up her father’s check and hunting down Mimi Warren, through doing all he could to help Karen Lloyd, to Jennifer Sheridan to Jodi and her family. It’s the same impulse driving Elvis (and therefore Joe). This impulse, this drive is what unites Elvis and Joe to the hard-boiled PI legacy, but their application of it is what helps distinguish them from others. As I recall, there’s a change in the wings for how Elvis approaches things, making this the apex of Stage I of the Cole series, if not the whole.

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5 Stars