Category: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 125 of 154

The Burning Room by Michael Connelly

The Burning RoomThe Burning Room

by Michael Connelly
Series: Harry Bosch, #17

Mass Market Paperback, 459 pg.
Vision, 2015

Read: November 16 – 18, 2015

Harry Bosch is in the last few months of his career with the LAPD — he’s about to be forced to retire again, and there’ll be no coming back from this one. He’s at peace with this — as much as he can be. It helps that he’s training rookie Detective Lucia Soto. Soto wants to learn from him (which distinguishes her from a lot of his former partners) and seems to want to do things the way Bosch does — it’s about results, not politics; shoe leather, not (just) computer work — everyone matters. If Harry can replace himself with someone like her, he’ll go happily.

There are two cases that Bosch is focusing on this time out — one officially so, the other on his own. The official case has a lot of press, a lot of attention from inside and outside the LAPD from the Chief all the way down. It’s an odd cold case, too. The victim just died, from complications of a bullet lodged in his back almost a decade ago. From the initial findings to the end, nothing turns out to be anything like it was assumed in the initial investigation when he was shot. Great, twisty case.

Connelly spends more effort on the other case, which ends up giving the novel its title. It dates back to about the same time, but isn’t actually assigned to Bosch and Soto initially. It’s been a long time Hobby Case of Soto’s, though and she recruits Bosch to help — which he does, to keep her out of trouble and to continue her development. The case is an old arson investigation, the building that was set on fire was an old apartment building that also housed an unlicensed day care. Nine children died in the fire, and it’s haunted the neighborhood since. A much more complicated case — made the moreso by the two working it off-book.

Harry’s not fighting corruption in the ranks or City Hall this time — his targets may be close to power (and some are about as far from it as you can get), but that’s it. As much as I enjoyed the forever long feud with Irving, I’m glad to see some variety. No corruption to fight — just bureaucratic timetables and peevishness. That’s bad enough for anyone.

Whether we’re talking Iggy Ferras, David Chu, Kiz Rider, Jerry Edgar or any of the other partners Harry’s worked with, it’s safe to say, most of them haven’t been great matches. Kiz came close (Edgar did, too, in a way — they knew how to work together, mostly). This is probably the best relationship Harry’s had with a partner — not his equal, but with almost the same drive. And she knows she needs Harry’s lectures (which most of the others didn’t need or want), she wants to hear them — she even asks for his feedback and critique. Even without this, Soto’s got it going on, her strengths supplement and/or complement Harry’s. I wish they had more time together — although Harry’s lessons might start to grate on her if they spent more than several months together, see the above list of ex-partners.

While the partner/partner dynamic hasn’t always been idyllic, you can usually count on a healthy father-daughter interaction — or at least attempts on both of their parts at it. There wasn’t that much Harry and Maddie material in this one — but what was there was . . . okay. I wonder if Connelly is preparing for a spin-off series starring Maddie, or if he’ll hand that off to someone else to do.

I’m not entirely satisfied — nor are we supposed to be — with the way both cases resolved, but they did so in a way that Harry can be proud of. Much more he has a legacy to pass down –both to Maddie and to Det. Soto. You also know that Harry’ll be one of those retired cops who’ll be quick to return a call from someone in the future looking for help on an old case.

A good Bosch, not great, but solid and satisfying. Killer last scene, even if it made me think of Sutton Foster playing Harry in a very special episode of Bosch. Good ’nuff for me.

—–

3.5 Stars

Hit by Delilah S. Dawson

HitHit

by Delilah S. Dawson
Series: Hit, #1

Hardcover, 324 pg.
Simon Pulse, 2015

Read: November 21, 2015


When I heard Dawson talk about this on The Once & Future Podcast this past Spring, I knew I had to read it. But like with about half the things I say that about when I listen to that podcast, I never got around to it. I’m so glad I finally remembered to grab it. This was a great read — a heckuva gut punch. A great immersive experience.

Sure, we’ve all read dystopian fictions that take place decades (at least) after the fall of whatever society preceded it. But have you ever wondered what it’s like to live in the opening minutes of a dystopia? Panem before the Capital City was wretched hive of scum and vanity? Well, that’s exactly what Patsy Klein is going through.

Yeah, Patsy Klein — some parents, right?

So Patsy is given a task: work as an indentured servant/debt collector for 5 days and collect from these 10 people. To collect, get their signature and record one of three choices: pay up everything you owe to the bank, now; become an indentured servant yourself for 5 days; or be killed, and here’s a 17-year-old with a 9mm to take care of that. Take your pick.

How can anyone get away with that? Well, Valor Bank (and a couple of smaller entities) has bought — lock, stock and barrel — the debt of the U.S. and every individual in it. Which is a lot of debt when you stop and think about it (all that’s required, really is, something like a California Rolling Stop to reach that conclusion). Valor Banks wants that debt taken care of pronto — and thanks to a subclause in that credit card application that no one ever reads, and some greased wheels in Congress, they can present these choices to pretty much every citizen. Patsy’s part of the first wave of these collectors, moving out before the majority of Americans have figured out what’s happening.

Killer concept, right? Utterly horrific — and yet almost utterly believable. Like I said before, when you plunge in and read this in a sitting or two it works great. If you take the time to think about some of the elements, I’m not sure it’d hold up nearly as well. But man, it was a fun read, even when it made you uneasy about what Patsy was doing.

And before I go any further, I just have to add that this is one of the best cover designs (front and back) I’ve seen this year. I hope someone got a promotion/bonus/raise out of this.

Again, I’m not sure how well this would hold up to examining various aspects of the world. It’s clear that there’s a pretty well-developed world supporting this, but the more we see of it, the more we understand the machinations that Valor Bank went through on both the macro and micro level — which it seems clear is where the sequel is going — the less I’m going to like it. A vague, nebulous Other doing horrible things is frequently better than seeing the Man Behind the Curtain. Right now, this is great — grabs the imagination, taps in to zeitgeist-y resentments towards banks/financial entities, and adds a deadly teenage girl. You explain everything, let us see what’s going on and I’m afraid we’ll end up with something like Allegiant (I’m convinced that was the biggest problem with the end of the trilogy, Roth explained too much).

A great read with some real weaknesses that easy enough to overlook if you want to. This’ll grab you, make you feel every hit, every shot and every regret.

—–

3.5 Stars

Opening Lines – My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

Head & Shoulders used to tell us that, “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” That’s true for wearing dark shirts, and it’s especially true for books. Sometimes the characters will hook the reader, sometimes the premise, sometimes it’s just knowing the author — but nothing beats a great opening for getting a reader to commit. This is one of the better openings I’ve read recently. Would it make you commit?

Every seven-year-old deserves a superhero. That’s just how it is. Anyone who doesn’t agree needs their head examined.

That’s what Elsa’s granny says, at least.

Elsa is seven, going on eight. She knows she isn’t especially good at being seven. She knows she’s different. Her headmaster says she needs to “fall into line” in order to achieve “a better fit with her peers.” Other adults describe her as “very grown-up for her age.” Elsa knows this is just another way of saying “massively annoying for her age,” because they only tend to say this when she corrects them for mispronouncing “dĂ©jĂ  vu” or not being able to tell the difference between “me” and “I” at the end of a sentence. Smart-asses usually can’t, hence the “grown-up for her age” comment, generally said with a strained smile at her parents. As if she has a mental impairment, as if Elsa has shown them up by not being totally thick just because she’s seven. And that’s why she doesn’t have any friends except Granny. Because all the other seven-year-olds in her school are as idiotic as seven-year-olds tend to be, but Elsa is different.

She shouldn’t take any notice of what those muppets think, says Granny. Because all the best people are different–look at superheroes. After all, if superpowers were normal, everyone would have them.

from My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman

It was really hard to stop where I did, I wanted to use the first three pages, but am pretty sure that it’d get me in copyright trouble.

The Promise by Robert Crais

The PromiseThe Promise

by Robert Crais
Series: Elvis Cole, #14 / Joe Pike, #5
Hardcover, 402 pg.

G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2015

Read: November 10 – 11, 2015


Elvis has been hired to find Amy Breslyn, from her pictures he says, “She looked like a sad version of someone’s marshmallow aunt: a kindly woman, slightly out-of-date, who wore sensible shoes and minded her own business.” But his client paints a picture of a woman who has been making some very unwise life choices lately, and she’s worried. Once Elvis scratches beneath the surface of Amy’s life, her recent lifestyle is far worse than “unwise.” Can the World’s Greatest Detective help her?

You strip away all the bells, whistles, multi-perspectives, co-mingling of series, and whatnot and you’ve got yourself a classic, prototypical Elvis Cole story. There’s a missing person that he’s hired to find, he goes through a bunch of stuff to find that person — ticking off a police department and a criminal enterprise in the process. At some point, he finds the person, but also discovers this person is in a world of hurt from the government/the criminals she’s crossed paths with, which he will try to extricate them from. Excitement, deception and bullets ensue. Pike does his thing. Elvis does his. Happy ending — or as close as you can get in this world we live in.

It’s with the bells and whistles that this one stands apart from your usual Elvis Cole book — which is both a good and a bad thing for the book.

Good, because we got to see so many characters that we enjoy and/or love interacting and teaming up.

But . . .

For the first few chapters it didn’t feel right — as an Elvis Cole book, it worked as a suspense novel — there was just too much bouncing around between the various point-of-view characters. By chapter 6 or 7, things settled down and back to what it should be. Still, The Promise probably stretches the limit of acceptable point-of-view characters: Mr. Rollins (the criminal we meet in the opening pages), Elvis, Joe, Jon Stone, Scott, and even Maggie — we’re an imp, a bastard and a khaleesi short of George R. R. Martin epic.*

It’s in trying to serve all these characters that the novel struggles — for example, I could’ve used more Pike. Sure, he’s effective when he’s around — but he’s barely around. After bringing in Jon Stone, Pike’s more of a backup than anything else — okay, fine, this was Stone’s kind of work. But still, if it’s listed as a Joe Pike novel we should see Joe do some Pike-level stuff. I don’t even think that Elvis said anything about him twitching the corner of his mouth in response to a joke! That might even disqualify it as an Elvis Cole.

Now, the Jon Stone material — especially his POV chapters — was great, and if it hadn’t been at the expense of Pike, I would write a healthy paragraph praising it.

The Maggie and Scott story might have been the most compelling part of the book. Scratch that, for me (at least, your mileage may vary) the Maggie and Scott story was the most compelling part of the book. It was fairly predictable, but executed so well that you just don’t care. This is a problem when they’re not the central figures in the book. I think the novel suffered from Spider-Man 3 Syndrome** — just too many characters running around to do a good job with.

I got enough of the Maggie and Scott material, same for the Jon Stone (except for the bit that you’re designed to want more of). But I needed more Joe being Joe, I wanted more Joe/Elvis interaction, more Elvis/Scott, more Elvis investigating, more — well, more Elvis, I guess is what I’m saying. Every time it seemed that the story was picking up steam and we were on track, we got someone else’s POV and had to start building momentum again.

Don’t get me wrong, I talked so much about the problems I had to fully explain them — I really enjoyed it, I just didn’t love it. After waiting so long, you’d hoped that this would’ve been dazzlingly great, instead The Promise will have to settle for being very enjoyable. Like I said at the outset, it’s a classic Elvis Cole story — and there are few things I’d rather read. I’m looking forward to re-reading this in a year or so, and I may put up a more favorable post when I do.


Okay, now that I’m thinking about it, who wouldn’t love to see Joe Pike smack Joffrey around a little bit?
8
I’d call it Batman Forever or Batman and Robin Syndrome, but those two had much worse problems than a plethora of characters

—–

4 Stars

Any Other Name by Craig Johnson

Any Other NameAny Other Name

by Craig Johnson
Series: Walt Longmire, #10

Hardcover, 317 pg.

Viking, 2014

Read: November 14 – 16, 2015

“I want to warn you that if you put Walter on this you’re going to find out what it’s all about, one way or the other.” Another pause, and I could imagine the face that was peering down at her, a visage to which I was accustomed. “You’re sure you want that? Because he’s like a gun; once you point him and pull the trigger, it’s too late to change your mind.”

There’s the problem, isn’t it? Walt won’t stop for anything once he starts. A perennial conflict in the Longmire series is Walt’s devotion to his friends/Cady and his duty as a sheriff (often more felt than real), part of its recurrence is because it always works as a plot device (as tired as it may feel — which is part of the whole thing, it’s just as tired for Cady as it is for the reader). Part of that is because I expect that it’s a strong reflection of reality (unlike, say the beating that Walt takes in this one and then the near super-human feats he accomplishes shortly thereafter).

Detective Gerald Holman shot himself — and did so in a fairly unusual manner. That aside, it’s a pretty cut-and-dried suicide. But his widow doesn’t buy it. Which isn’t that unusual, but because she doesn’t buy it, their old friend Lucian Connally doesn’t buy it — he’s just not that kind of guy. So Lucian drags Walt to the next county and gets him to investigate it — the sheriff there doesn’t see the need, but isn’t going to stop him. Lucian gives the widow the warning up above, and she agrees to it, as does Walt — even with the birth of his grandchild just days away in Philadelphia.

Along the way, Vic and Henry show up — as does a very unlikely friend of Walt’s from a couple of books back. Vic’s recovered physically from A Serpent’s Tooth, but the rest of her has a bit to go. Henry’s just Henry — and I’m pretty sure that’s all he’ll ever be. Walt befriends/drafts a local police officer, who also comes through for him in a pretty big way. Actually, meeting Officer Corbin Dougherty was one of my favorite parts of the book:

… he looked vaguely familiar….

“You date my daughter?”

“I did.” He blushed up to his blond crew cut. “The first time I came to pick her up you tossed me a shotgun shell.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you said they went a lot faster after eleven o’clock.”

I nodded. “I used to think I was a tough guy.”

I liked this exchange for a few reasons: 1. It’s amusing, 2. It reminds me of one of the best exchanges between Raylan Givens and Wynn Duffy on Justified, 3. It illustrates the difference between Walt and Raylan. I don’t know if Raylan will ever get to the point where he could say that last line and mean it, but you know Walt did (and is probably embarrassed that he ever said it in the first place — Raylan may have rued uttering that to Wynn because of the fallout, but he sure wasn’t embarrassed).

The kinds of criminal activity that Walt turns up during his investigation of the suicide and Holman’s last cases that probably led him to it makes a guy miss Absaroka County and its apocalyptic cults, generations-long feuds, drug smuggling, serial killers and whatnot. But throughout it all, you know that Walt and his posse will bring justice to those who drove Holman over the edge.

To be honest, the ending of this one felt rushed — Walt had a hard deadline to meet, and so he had to rush things a bit on his end — and it felt like Johnson did, too. There was no cheating on the final reveal of his investigation — Johnson’s too careful for that, and he’s not one for red herrings, so you know the detail that leads Walt to the conclusion was important when you saw it the second time. But, I didn’t think it was well explained, the clues fit, but I didn’t see the motive working — at least not as given. It didn’t ruin the experience for me, but it took a little shine off of it.

—–

3 Stars

Never Tell by Alafair Burke

Never TellNever Tell

by Alafair Burke
Series: Ellie Hatcher, #4

Hardcover, 348 pg.

HarperCollins Publishers, 2012

Read: November 9 – 10, 2015

Ellie Hatcher and her partner, Rogan are called to a very nice townhouse to start investigating a homicide. At least that’s how it was called in. As far as the EMTs, the police officers that were first on the scene, and Ellie’s instincts are concerned, it was a suicide. But the distraught mother has money and is married to a music producer of some note, so when they squawk “murder”, Rogan and Hatcher at least have to spend some time considering it one.

There are a number of little signs all along that point to homicide, but suicide is obvious, easy, and quick to handle. Even as evidence starts to pile up, Ellie resists seeing suicide. The greater part of this is written as her coming to grips with her father’s all those years ago. I didn’t buy that explanation, really — I couldn’t see why Ellie hadn’t jumped in with gusto, just in case. That seems more consistent with her character than this cynical cop we see here.

There’s another story here — somewhat tied to the other, but you’re never sure just how much it’s tied together until the end. A woman who was repeatedly raped by her mother’s boyfriend a decade or so ago, is seeking healing, seeking to tell her story. So she starts an anonymous blog, “Second Acts: Confessions of a Former Victim and Current Survivor.” But she starts receiving threats, threats that demand to be taken seriously (but not enough to involve the police until she’s forced to) — which just empower her to continue. At a certain point, the threats become more personal, and maybe the anonymity isn’t as strong as the blogger thought. You’d think following 212 that Hatcher and Rogan would be more willing to believe the level of violence threatened here, but they don’t seem to take it seriously until forced to either (although, once this lands on their radar, they handle it better than the suicide/homicide).

I liked — as characters, not necessarily as people — the mourning mother and most of the social circle of the dead girl, and the lady who runs the homeless shelter. But everyone else pretty much left me cold. Jess had so little to do this time, it’s a wonder Burke used him at all. The Max storyline was okay, but seemed a little pat and tired — especially in the way that Ellie and Max reacted to each other. I’m not looking for much out of that part of the series, but I’d like something interesting. Nothing Rogan did really caught my attention, he served as an okay foil for Ellie/someone to spur her on, but it really could have been any other character doing the same. Thankfully, the stories were strong enough to keep me invested.

In the end, this is a solid mystery, with plenty of red herrings and half-told-truths to keep the reader and the detectives questioning what they see in front of them. Ellie Hatcher continues to be a character worth spending time with — even when she’s wrong.

—–

3 Stars

X by Sue Grafton

this is rushed, I’m having Internet shortages this week (long story, don’t ask), so I want to get this posted while I can. I may end up polishing it up within the day, if there are problems/typos/incomplete sentences, etc. — leave a comment

XX

by Sue Grafton
Series: Kinsey Millhone, #24

Hardcover, 403 pg.
Marian Wood Books/Putnam, 2015
Read: October 28 – 30, 2015

I’d forgotten how slow these books start, if I didn’t have confidence in Grafton built over 23 previous novels, I don’t know if I’d have kept going. By page 100, I was curious about both mysteries, engaged enough to keep going – but still no serial killer, no interesting crime — a lot of X’s in character names and whatnot — enough that you know Grafton intended them. The highlight had been meeting Cheney Phillips’ mom, fer crying out loud! You’d think with just three books in the series remaining, Grafton would be pulling out all stops to make this dazzle the readers, but nope. This book is possibly the most subtle, where the actual mystery, the heart of the book is lost in the midst of the mundane — not unlike actual life. Really, most of this book was the Adventures of Kinsey Millhone, Busybody with Too Much Time on Her Hands.

By this point, if we know nothing else, we’ve learned that you do not move into Kinsey and Henry’s neighborhood. If Kinsey decides she doesn’t like you, your life is going to be pried into, turned upside down, and — ultimately — you’ll find yourself living somewhere else. Gladys Kravitz has nothing on Kinsey. Now, whether it’s a gold-digger sniffing around Henry, an insane nurse, or what have you, Kinsey’s gut has been right — but she can’t bat a thousand, can she? Still, Henry gets some new neighbors who get him to run all over town on their behalf while he obsesses with a potential drought and water rationing — and by obsesses, I mean he turns in to Adrian Monk. Kinsey sees them taking advantage of Henry and steps in. I really didn’t like this storyline — Kinsey came off as a shrew (and, yes, I get it — part of this series has always been showing her warts and all — still, I want to expect more from her), no matter how rude and manipulative and possibly worse these new neighbors may be.

There’s another storyline that’s kicked off in the Prologue — I noted after reading it that we wouldn’t return to that for 300 pages or so. I was off by about 100, a mistake I’m willing to make. But it didn’t come back in the way I expected. Kinsey is hired for a job, and after completing it, she’s visited by the police, and she learns that she wasn’t working for who she thought she was — and that’s just the beginning of the problems — so she starts digging into her client, and what that client wanted her to accomplish anyway. This is one of the strangest, and possibly the most pointless, mystery Kinsey’s reported to us. With an oddly sentimental ending.

Pete Wolinsky, investigator of dubious morality from W is for Wasted (and Kinsey’s early days as a P. I.) turns up again. His widow, Ruthie, is facing an IRS audit and asks Kinsey to look through the papers she still has of his laying around for any financial records. Kinsey gets around to it eventually, and in the process finds some well-hidden materials and a coded message. Henry, puzzle-writer extraordinaire, decodes it and comes up with a list of names — some of which have a connection to one of Pete’s cases that Kinsey was aware of, but the rest are a mystery. This starts needling at Kinsey’s curiosity (which is already purring along thanks to the mysterious client above), and she starts going over Pete’s tracks, trying to see what was so important that he would feel compelled to leave notes in a code. Not only does this involve going back over Pete’s case, but decades before — and then back to the present. The rocks she turns over reveal a good deal, and maybe even help Kinsey learn to appreciate Pete in a way she should’ve while he was still with us.

We do check in with Jonah Robb, Robert Dietz, and the aforementioned Cheney Phillips, but nothing happens at all even approaching romance. Which is fine by me, Kinsey on her own is more interesting than Kinsey trying to make things work with a guy. Naturally, we spend a little time at Rosie’s and see William make a bold fashion choice. Yeah, it’s just that exciting a book.

There’s a character early on that the reader (and Kinsey) pegs as the major villain of the piece, but he’s never focused on to the exclusion of all the other moving pieces, so that when things get serious and dangerous, it’s almost as much of a surprise to the reader as it is to Kinsey. I think the way Grafton pulls off handling the storyline, letting the danger get hidden in the shuffle is what made me rank it so high. Actually, as I write this I’m wanting to rank it lower, but I’m going to trust my initial judgment on this (but honestly, I’ve read a couple of 2 star reviews for this that I wholeheartedly agree with). It was nice going back to Santa Teresa to spend time with the old gang, but I’m really hoping Grafton makes these next two a little more worth the effort.

—–

4 Stars

Reread Project: Suspect by Robert Crais

SuspectSuspect

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

The Lobster Boy And The Fat Lady’s Daughter by Charles Kriel

The Lobster Boy And The Fat Lady's Daughter The Lobster Boy And The Fat Lady’s Daughter

by Charles Kriel
Series: Mel Barry Investigates, #1

Kindle Edition, 250 pg.
Fahrenheit Press, 2015
Read: October 31, 2015

I can’t give this one the discussion it needs with my standard spoiler-free stuff. So…after the break below, I’ll talk about my spoilery-beefs with this book. If you don’t want to read them (I’m not sure I’d blame you for skipping) read on. Otherwise, you can stop when you get to the stars.

Carnival/Freak Show owner Charlie “Lobster Boy” Koontz is being framed for murder, and given his physical appearance, an already ugly situation promises to get much, much worse. So he does the unthinkable — he calls his adopted daughter for help. You’ll have to read to find out why this is such a dumb move. Mel comes to town, starts asking questions, kicking some butt — occasionally getting a name — all while reconnecting with her carnie roots and learning a bit more about her family.

Mel’s a combination of Jack Reacher and Charlie Fox with a more mysterious past than either. Which Kriel teases us with frequently, but doesn’t give us much to go on. I’m fine with that, if we get a sequel that actually explains what happens to Mel post-carnival, otherwise, it’s a problem (one that’s not Kriel’s fault, really). Anyway, she’s good with a gun, good with hand-to-hand, crafty as all get-out and determined to get Charlie out of jail no matter what.

We don’t get much of an idea about the town that the murder takes place in, we get a flavor of some of the leadership — we see that Law Enforcement is a racist joke, and that there’s a strip joint. That’s pretty much it. Kriel comes close to playing the stereotype card, but somehow avoids it. We see almost nothing of the populace, no characters that we can remember longer than the sentence that they’re (outside of the villains, obviously)

We get a good look at The Lobster Boy’s Mermaid Parade, on the other hand. It’s a not just a group of coworkers, it’s a family — admittedly, a strange family. They live together, travel together, perform together, play together — it’s enough to make you want to run off and join them. But you should probably bend a law or two first, so you can fit in. And it’s filled with characters — almost none of which we get adequate time with, but enough to make them people, enough to remember in a couple of cases, at least.

Early on, there is a rape scene that I found to be gratuitously graphic. I get that occasionally for reasons of plot or character, you’ve got to have a scene along those lines — and while I don’t appreciate them, I can accept them. But they need to serve a purpose, this one seems to do little more than demonstrate that the man is a creep, a misogynist, violent with a twisted idea that he’s connected to Mel. Now we already know everything except the violence before things got graphic, and there’re other ways to show that. I’m not saying the guy can’t rape the girl to illustrate this stuff if that’s what an author thinks is best, but we don’t need the details. The fact that he rapes someone alone says that. The details don’t add to that. A couple of chapters earlier, there’s an attempted rape scene (different perpetrators, different victim) — I had no problems with that at all, because it accomplished things that served the story and the characters.

The first two chapters of this were interesting, yeah, but there was something about it that made me think this wasn’t going to be a book for me — no matter how well-written it turned out to be, there was just something that didn’t appeal. I’m not sure if I finished Chapter 3 before I decided I was wrong — I liked Mel, straightaway. I still wasn’t sure about anything else in the book, but if this was her book, I was in.

This was a fast read, a compelling read, and a fun read — and were it not for graphic elements in the rape scene and the stuff coming up below, I’d have rated it higher. Still, Mel Barry is a character I want to see more of, and I’m sure Charles Kriel is an author I will see more of. Especially at a Kindle price, it’s worth the read — would be for twice what Amazon is asking, too.

—–

3.5 Stars

From the Mailbag: Reading the Wolfe Books for the First Time

I received this email in response to my Happy Birthday, Archie! post last week.

Soooooo, each year you post this, each year I say I’m going to start…just put a request in for Fer-de-Lance, the first of the Nero Wolfe books, right?

Thanks for the question! This is a tricky one for me, and one that I’ve thought too long about already. I’m going to write for the person already interested in the series, and not to convince you to read them — this is practical advice only, no incitement.

Short answer: Maybe.

Longer answer (which I’ll still try to keep under control, because I tend to be hard to stop on this subject, and some of this is adapted from other things I’ve written. Also, because if I start fact-checking some of this, I’ll find myself spending hours, even days, on this, so I might make some minor errors)*:
Rex Stout’s Fer-de-Lance is the first of 40+ books (novels or short story collections) featuring the exploits of private investigator Archie Goodwin (2 parts Huck Finn, 1 part Philip Marlowe) and his eccentric employer, Nero Wolfe (1 part Sherlock Holmes, 1 part Mycroft Holmes)–yes, I am one of those who think that Archie’s the main character in the mis-nomered Nero Wolfe Mysteries. It makes perfect sense to start with Fer-de-Lance and read chronologically. I did it myself a couple of years back for the first time (I’ve been reading these books for about 30 years now, and its odd that it took me so long), and I picked up subtle nuances, little callbacks and references that I’d missed before. There are almost no story or character arcs that go beyond a book (exceptions are noted below), and (most of) those that do, are easy enough to pick up and don’t spoil too much. Yes, there are introductions of new characters, a character death or two, but by and large you can dip in anywhere and not notice.

    Two quick semi-parenthetical notes on the reading this chronologically before I continue.

  • Yes, read the short story collections when you come across them in the chronology. Even if you’re not a short fiction reader, do it. There are some utter gems tucked away in those (and I spent too much time ignoring them).
  • The short story collection Death Times Three was published posthumously, but I’m pretty sure they were published in magazines, etc. before the last novel, A Family Affair. Read the collection after Please Pass the Guilt and before A Family Affair. A Family Affair works so, so well as a series finale that it should be treated as one whether or not Stout wrote it as one. It’s oft-debated, but I’m convinced that if Stout lived another year, we’d have had another novel. But he didn’t. So, again, A Family Affair should be the last you read — even if you don’t read chronologically.


In reading about Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe (either by fans or professionals), there’s an oft-quoted line from Walter D. Edmonds that you simply cannot avoid seeing, “I shall never forget my excitement on reading Fer-de-Lance, sprung like Athena perfect form the Jovian brow, fresh and new and at the same time with enough plain familiar things in scene and setting to put any reader at his ease.” Aside from Oliver Wendell Holmes’ margin note (“This fellow is the best of them all.”), there’s nothing that sums up Fer-de-Lance better, sprung like Athena indeed.

It really doesn’t matter how many times you’ve read it, but upon re-reading (and probably even initial reading if this isn’t your first encounter with Wolfe and Archie) you can’t help be struck by how much Fer-de-Lance fits the model of a mature Wolfe novel–almost all the elements are there. These characters are introduced in practically their final format — a little tweak here and there over the course of the first few novels will get them in their final form. The addition of a few other characters will be necessary, but the cast of characters is already over 90% complete. In the first chapter alone we already have Wolfe, Archie, Fritz, Theodore, Fred and Saul presented in a manner fully recognizable to the familiar reader. The story follows a fairly typical route (although the identity of the murderer is revealed far earlier than is the norm), and the essential environmental elements are there — the beer, Wolfe’s eccentric schedule, the orchids, a relapse, the food, a cocky scheme to land a client, an outrageous stratagem for getting that last essential piece of evidence (not that Wolfe needs it to solve the crime, merely to prove he was correct) — the only thing missing is the gathering of the witnesses/suspects/clients for Wolfe to reveal everything in his characteristically dramatic fashion. One recurring thought I had while reading it the last time was that Fer-de-Lance could just as easily have been the fifteenth installment in the series as the first.

If you didn’t understand half of what I wrote above because you’re new to the corpus, well, you’ll get it soon enough. There’s a formula of sorts to Wolfe/Archie novels — violated all the time, despite what we purists like to think, these variations on the theme are some of our favorite moments. You’ll pick the formula up quickly, and find it as comfortable as Wolfe’s nigh-inviolable daily schedule.

So while there is glacial development, the order is almost negligible. I do endorse and suggest a chronological read — but it’s not essential. In fact, I typically recommend The Golden Spiders (#22) or Before Midnight (#25) to newbies before plunging into Fer-de-Lance, they’re among my favorites, and are pretty representative of the fully-developed Wolfe/Archie. A&E used The Golden Spiders as the pilot to their recent series, so I’m not alone in thinking it serves as a good introduction. If you like them in their final form, you’ll have an easier time appreciating Wolfe/Archie in their almost-final form in the early books. Think of the development of Bugs Bunny over the first few shorts as a rough analogue.

Therefore, if your library/used bookstore isn’t sufficiently stocked to do the chronological read, you shouldn’t avoid the series and can dip in wherever you can. It’s like old episodes of Law & Order that you come across on cable. But there are a few things you should read in a certain order for full understanding/emotional impact, and a few others you should read after you’ve acclimated to the world/series a bit, you’ll enjoy/appreciate them more than in they’re in the first five:

  • The Doorbell Rang (#41)
  • Too Many Women (#12) — a lot of people think Archie comes off like a cad here, it’s never bothered me, however. Still, if you already like him, you’ll forgive him this.
  • And Be a Villain (#13), The Second Confession (#15), and In the Best Families (#17) — just seeing the numbers now, surprises me — I’d have thought these were in the 30’s. If Stout had been planning out a 40+ book series, he’d have put them later. Not only should you read them with experience in the series, these three need to be read in this order. There is an omnibus edition in many libraries with these three called Triple Zeck.
  • The Black Mountain (#24) would be best read after Over My Dead Body (#7), and after you’re acclimated to the world.

A couple of other suggestions:

  • Some Buried Caesar (#6) — should be read early (but not first) and often.
  • A Right to Die (#40) should be read only after Too Many Cooks (#5), it’s one of the only times that a non-regular character shows up again. There’s some racially-tinged language in Too Many Cooks that Archie’d grow out of almost immediately. Remember it was originally published in 1938 and cut him a little slack — mostly, be happy that he grows out of it.
  • And again, A Family Affair should be read pretty much when there’s nothing left.

Granted, these are all only suggestions. But ones made by a passionate fan. Still, at the end of the day, just read these books, you’ll enjoy them.

Maybe sometime I’ll get into the official continuations by Robert Goldsborough in a post like this.


* Okay, I lied — I pulled up the goodreads page for the series so I could get the numbers on them just to help. But that’s it.

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