Category: Fiction Page 267 of 348

by Joe Zieja
Series: Epic Failure, #1

Hardcover, 343 pg.
Saga Press, 2016

Read: August 17 – 18, 2016

No duty was too great that R. Wilson Rogers couldn’t find a way to shirk it.

This is the essence of R. Wilson Rogers (don’t ask what the R. stands for) compressed into one sentence — an engineer for the Galactic Navy during the longest peacetime in Galactic Memory. As a result of all the peace, there’s not a whole lot for a Naval ship to do — nor for the men assigned to it. So, Rogers and his fellow crew members got up to a lot of nonsense — drinking, gambling and worse. Eventually, Rogers finds himself leaving under less than auspicious circumstances. Not long after that, under even less auspicious circumstances (which I’ll leave for you to read about and chuckle over) he finds himself back on the appropriately named Flagship which has transformed in his brief absence in to a serious-minded place, full of random inspections, wartime preparations (despite centuries of peace), and odd assignments.

Before long, Rogers finds himself getting promotions, leading a group of battle droids, and seriously considering suicide and desertion (favoring the latter, I assure you) — and that’s when things really start to get interesting.

This is pretty decent Military SF with a twist of humor, a dollop of irony, a pinch of satire, and so on — I don’t want to compare it to Adams. But I’ll compare it to a mix of Scalzi, Harry Harrison, Jack Campbell, Grant Naylor and Peter David. There’s a sense of play, even when he’s not going for the comedy, which makes the whole thing fun to read.

Best ‘droid since Marvin, best malfunctioning human personality software since Marvin (or Lore — but not as creepy or murderous), funniest ‘droids since Kryten. I could keep those comparisons going — essentially, I really liked all of the Droids on Flagship (especially Deet). The CO reminded me of some sort of hybrid between the pointy-haired boss and Douglas Reynholm is great comic relief, but there’s more to him than that.

Honestly, I could go on and on, Zieja assembled a great cast of characters — real enough that you can like them, outlandish enough that you don’t take them terribly seriously. Not just the obviously comedic characters either, there are a few “straight (wo)men” characters scattered throughout, keeping the rest grounded. Rogers is the best of the bunch – there’s a little personal growth to him (no one’s more surprised and dismayed by that than him), I enjoyed seeing that come out. I liked how despite himself he learns to set aside prejudices, take things seriously, and even act a little heroically. I as amused by (and occasionally disturbed by) his attraction to/fascination with the Amazonian Marine Captain. Rogers’ way of looking at the world is pretty relatable (I’m not saying that he’s the kind of guy you spend time with, he’s the guy you want to spend time with), and he’ll win you to his side pretty quickly.

One thing that I really appreciated was the respect that Zieja showed to the military personnel throughout this — too often everyone (with a maximum of a couple of exceptions) in a book like this is depicted as a moron — think of Richard Hooker’s classic for a moment. It’s just one example, but it’s a good one. You’ve got Jones, the Painless Pole, Hawkeye, Trapper, Duke, and a couple of nurses here and there who are competent, if not great, doctors. Who else? Everyone else is a “regular Army” schmuck ho shouldn’t be allowed in an operating theater or near anything where life and death decisions come into play.

Zieja doesn’t play it this way — these Navy and Marine men and women (with one or two exceptions, because there are always exceptions) are treated as competent, equipped and dedicated people whose greatest problem is that they have nothing to do, so things get a little loopy from time to time. But you give then an enemy, you give them a goal, you give them some way to target their talents and energy — good things happen. Even the really incompetent turn out to be quite competent when put in the right spot, doing what they’re good at (even if that’s not what they want to be good at). Problems are solved, crises averted, and enemies thwarted. That’s just not seen often enough, and I appreciate Zieja doing that.

That doesn’t mean he can’t find ways to make fun of the dedicated, the competent, and equipped — but he doesn’t make them into buffoons to do so (mostly).

I knew that I was going to like this book by page 3, I was audibly chuckling by page 4. The rest was just gravy. I laughed, chortled, and grinned my way through this — practically from beginning to end. The story as pretty good, the story plus the comedy made this gold. If I could think of stronger words to use to endorse this, I’d probably slap them here. But I can’t — just get your hands on this one. Meanwhile, I’m already looking forward to the sequel.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this from the Publisher in exchange for my honest comments on it — sorry for the delay, I greatly appreciate the book.

—–

4 Stars

Pub Day Repost: Lady Cop Makes Trouble by Amy Stewart

By HCNewton

On September 6, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Lady Cop Makes Trouble

by Amy Stewart
Series: The Kopp Sisters, #2
eARC, 320 pg.
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2016
Read: August 6 – 8, 2016

Miss Constance Kopp, who once hid behind a tree near her home in Wyckoff, N.J., for five hours waiting to get a shot at a gang of Black Handers who had annoyed her, is now a Deputy Sheriff of Bergen County, N.J., and a terror to evildoers. — New York Press, December 20, 1915

The novel’s epigraph tells you pretty much everything you need to know. In the previous book, Girl Waits with Gun, Constance goes to extremes to protect her family from criminals, now she’s moved on to being an official “terror to evildoers.”

Constance begins the novel as a Deputy Sheriff, but political pressure removes her (temporarily she’s assured) and she’s demoted to matron of the women’s jail. She’d been serving in that capacity anyway, but now that’s all she does. She notes, and is probably on to something, that the police are far more willing to arrest women knowing there;s a matron at the jail to watch over them than they were when it was just men. That’s probably not the kind of women’s equality that people hoped for, but I guess you take what you can get. During this time, Constance makes a horrible blunder — one that jeopardizes her career as well as that of Sheriff Heath.

Bound and determined to keep her job (and for her friend and boss to keep his), as well as to see justice done, Constance ignores orders, protocol and (what some would consider) good sense and sets off to correct her error. Doing so will take her out of her comfort zone and into a long investigation that will remind her just what kind of evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Reading about Constance — and some of the professional women she meets in NYC — reminds me of the book I recently read about Nelly Bly and the efforts of female journalists to be taken seriously, and given the opportunities to do more than society page work. Another female law enforcement officer that Constance meets in the opening pages isn’t allowed to do much at all in her role — far less than Constance can (and does). Now this other woman seems content in that, even scandalized at Constance manhandling a suspect, but that doesn’t change the fact that times are changing, and it’s determined women like Constance and Nelly Bly that are going to make them change.

The friendship — and mutual respect — between Constance and Sheriff Heath continues to bloom, and be misunderstood by everyone (with the possible exception of Norma) from Mrs. Heath to juvenile delinquents. But really, there are no romantic sparks (and I expect Stewart will keep things that way — as did history, it seems). I do wish that more people in Bergen County — particularly some of her coworkers (even just one) — most people outside of her home (see especially almost everyone in New York) seem to be encouraging/accepting of a female Deputy.

Norma and Fleurette aren’t as important to the progress of the plot in the sequel — Norma’s stubborn, no-nonsense streak keeps Constance moving when she needs it. Fleurette’s naïveté and desire for a different life fuel Constance’s desire to make the world a better place — at least their corner of it — and to keep the money rolling in. Watching the Sheriff Heath interact with these ladies is a hoot.

I’m not sure it stacks up to its predecessor as a novel — it’s not as deep, the story’s really straightforward, and you might argue the ending is a bit rushed. But, it’s a whole lot more fun to read. Having established the world so effectively in the first book, Stewart can just let her characters live in it. This is a solid crime novel, elevated by the historical circumstances and actual history that undergirds it. Stewart really won me over with this one, I hope we have many more installments to come.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt via NetGalley in exchange for this post — thanks to both for this.
N.B.: As this was an ARC, any quotations above may be changed in the published work — I will endeavor to verify them as soon as possible.

—–

4 Stars

The Key to the Coward’s Spell by Alex Bledsoe

By HCNewton

On September 6, 2016

In Alex Bledsoe, Eddie LaCrosse, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

The Key to the Coward’s Spell

by Alex Bledsoe
Series: Eddie LaCrosse, #?

Kindle Edition, 27 pg.
Tor Books, 2016

Read: September 3, 2016

This over-before-you-realize-it short story is a welcome dip of the toe back into the world of Eddie LaCrosse, sword jockey (i.e., medieval private eye). Bledsoe’s Tufa series is one of the best things around, but man, I enjoy this series so much.

LaCrosse has been hired by a local blacksmith to find his kidnapped son. LaCrosse is sporting a broken arm, so he’s going to need a little more help than normal, Jane Argo, for one — and some new faces, too. There’s really not a lot to say, here — half of the action takes place before the story starts. LaCrosse gets a little more intel, and then jumps into action.

The action is brief and to the point — with a nice twist or two along the way. Nothing special, but it’s a good couple of sequences. And a brief reminder that no matter what you dress it up in — modern time/tech/clothing, generic fantasy tropes, SF, whatever — there are some forms of evil that transcend those details and are just evil that need to be fought in whatever little way we can.

Yeah, it was fun to spend some time in this world and with LaCrosse and everyone. But man, just as you get into it, the story’s over. Just not enough to really satisfy, but it was a fun taste. I don’t know that this is a good intro to the character (it might be), but it’s a good reminder for those who’ve met him before that they want to read more about him.

—–

3 Stars

Timothy Other: The Boy Who Climbed Marzipan Mountain by L. Sydney Abel

By HCNewton

On September 2, 2016

In Fiction, YA/MG/Children's Books

Timothy Other: The Boy Who Climbed Marzipan Mountain

by L. Sydney Abel
Series: Timothy Other, #1

Kindle Edition, 325 pg.
Speaking Volumes, 2016

Read: August 11 – 13, 2016

A nameless boy is left at the Dreams and Hopes Orphanage (and don’t think I didn’t have to concentrate really hard not to flip those two every time I read/wrote the name) and is named Timothy Other — which is not the most interesting name in the book, trust me — where he spends the first twelve years of his life happy, healthy (insanely so) and cared for. Until the man who ran the orphanage dies and the bank takes ownership of the mortgaged-to-the-hilt facility. The people that take it over might as well have been Miss Hannigan and Dolores Umbridge.

Not surprisingly, Timothy wants something else in his life, runs away — and straight out of Candide ends up at Marzipan Mountain (his name for it); befriending a giant mouse, caterpillar and Sasquatch-like creature; and on the trail of his birth parents (something he learns much later); and a way to rescue the orphanage. Meanwhile, back home we learn about the nefarious schemes that are behind the takeover of the orphanage and the various motivations behind them.

Some of the subject matter and way it’s depicted seem a little more “adult,” dark or whatever than is acceptable for kids’ literature. On the whole (there might be a line or two I wouldn’t defend), this is silly and doesn’t give kids enough credit. It also ignores the history of these kind of books — from Lewis Carroll and J. M. Barrie to Rowling and Gaiman — kids can handle this stuff if presented right. Frequently better than adults can.

Eventually, Timothy and one of his new friends come back home to save the day, right wrongs, and give many the happy ending you expect given the genre and setup. There’s a bit of redemption, a bit of justice, and a lot of hope and love at work here — Dreams and Hopes, I guess you could say, as these various characters pursue the Golden Life and launch Timothy on further adventures in the sequel(s). All the makings of a good introductory novel for a series.

There’s a nice hat-tip to another British children’s fantasy series that should tickle everyone who catches it — and mean nothing at all to those who don’t.

With each major character (and most of the minor) there’s a moment or two, a couple of lines, or a scene that doesn’t seem to fit with what we’ve been told/seen about the character. It’d take too much space to illustrate this, but when you get to that scene (and you’ll recognize it just about every time), just shake it off and move on, Timothy or Edwin or Itling or whoever will get back to themselves soon.

I had a hard time nailing down the feel of this one, there’s sort of a fairy-tale feel to it. Not Grimm Brothers’ fairy-tale, but the warm-fuzzy kind (with a hint of the other), like J. K. Rowling-light. Even a dash Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle at the beginning. Later on, it morphs into a Neil Gaiman-esque children’s book feel. Now, Abel never quite hits the Rowling/MacDonald/Lewis/Gaiman tone exactly — which is good, he’s doing his own thing, but it’s in those ballparks. The one thing that would help his tone is a bit more economy of words — he takes a few too many to pull of the whimsy, the sense of play, that he seems to be going for.

Actually, that goes for pretty much the book as a whole — Abel could’ve trimmed just about everything a bit. It’s a slow read, which is not necessary a bad thing, I’ve got nothing against them. But I think it works against what he’s trying to do and I think I have a little more patience than the target audience would. I’m not saying it needs to be a hundred pages shorter — but it could read a little smoother, quicker. Really — how many people noticed the length of Goblet of Fire? You didn’t because of the way it was written (not just the exciting parts, either).

I want to be clear, I’m not saying the writing isn’t good — but the pacing and language are so close to being very good, the fact that he misses the target by a little emphasizes the fact that he missed it. This is a winsome and charming book that should enchant younger readers, if they just give it the opportunity.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for this post/my honest thoughts. I’d like to thank him for the book and for his patience, I took far too long with this.

—–

3 Stars

The Granite Moth by Erica Wright

By HCNewton

On September 1, 2016

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Granite Moth

by Erica Wright
Series: Kathleen Stone, #2

Kindle Edition, 284 pg.
Pegasus, 2015

Read: August 23, 2016

Kathleen Stone (sometimes known as Kennedy Vaners, as Katya Lincoln, Kathy Stevens, or Kevin(!)), is a former NYPD undercover officer turned P.I.

You know, typing that sentence made me think of Orphan Black, and I’m now picturing Tatiana Maslany as our main character. Which absolutely works. I may see her in my mind when I get the chance to read the first book about Kathleen, and probably as I write the rest of this.

Where was I? Oh yeah, so the circumstances leading to the “former” part of her NYPD tenure are a little murky — maybe we get it all explained in The Red Chameleon and I just need to catch up, or maybe it’s left vague because Kathleen doesn’t want to share the details. Either explanation is believable. Not since Stephen J. Cannell’s Wiseguy, have I seen something deal so effectively with the emotional toll of a double life — although strangely enough, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, came close last season (I’m not saying there aren’t others, I just don’t know about them — feel free to fill me in in the comments).

Kathleen has two cases to work here, a personal vendetta to pursue, and some personal/personnel issues to deal with. Not a bad day’s reading. Although, really everything sort of fits in the personal vendetta category, come to think of it — but she’s only paid for 2 of them. First, she’s watching the Halloween parade, just to see her friend Dolly and other drag queens perform on the float advertising their club. While she’s watching, the float explodes — her friend survives, but not everyone does. The club owner hires Kathleen to track down whoever sabotaged the float. There’s a pretty good reason to suspect foul play, and that the police aren’t taking things as seriously as they should.

The personal vendetta is related to her assigned target in the undercover operation, who is still walking around. While following up a new bit of information she’s come across, she witnesses a murder. Another witness to this actually knows who she is and hires her to investigate.

Both of these cases involve Kathleen donning a few wigs (her wigs are almost as good as those used by Elizabeth and Philip on The Americans) and personalities, putting herself in harms’ way, dealing with grieving families (which might be harder on her than the physical danger), and facing some unpleasant truths about herself. Although honestly, the personal/personnel issues might be the most dangerous, come to think of it.

The nature of leading a double life — undercover cop, drag queen, upper class heir living a middle class life, etc. — runs throughout this book and gives you a lot to think about while doing so. Yet, Wright doesn’t beat you over the head with it, you could probably ignore it if you wanted to.

This was a well-written, well-paced and engaging mystery novel, with a narrator that I thoroughly enjoyed and was intrigued by. Kathleen is the kind of detective that Ellie Hatcher wants to be, and Lydia Chin would be if circumstances and ethnicity were different. I want to read more of her, soon. I hope I get the chance.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for this post/my honest thoughts. I’d like to thank her for the book and for her patience, I took too long with this.

—–

3.5 Stars

Mechanical Failure by Joe Zieja is Not [EXPLETIVE] Reviewed Here Today

By HCNewton

On August 31, 2016

In Epic Failure, Joe Zieja, Science Fiction, Uncategorized

Mechanical Failure

by Joe Zieja
Series: Epic Failure, #1

Hardcover, 343 pg.
Saga Press, 2016

Read: August 17 – 18, 2016

I tried, I really, really tried to get this up today, but I didn’t. So I’ll just say: read it. Probably best if you buy it so 1. the publisher/Zieja get money and want to do more and 2. you’ll have it to loan to people when you’re done. It’s good, it’s funny, you’ll enjoy it.

If you want more details, come back in a day (I hope) or seven (ugh, I hope not) and they’ll be here.

Update: Yeah, come back next week — I’m out of town, and want my copy at hand while I write it up. Rats.

The Twelve Dogs of Christmas by David Rosenfelt

By HCNewton

On August 30, 2016

In Andy Carpenter, David Rosenfelt, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

The Twelve Dogs of Christmas

by David Rosenfelt
Series: Andy Carpenter, #15

eARC, 336 pg.
Minotaur Books, 2016

Read: August 27, 2016

I’m not a big fan of holiday-themed installments of long-running series (see the Holiday Plum novels or the Silent Night Spenser novel as glaring examples of how bad these can be). But you know I’m a completist — and if I could make it through the aforementioned books, I could handle this. Thankfully, this was pretty light on the Christmas theme (sure, there are trees and gifts and whatnot, but it’s not really that different from your standard Andy Carpenter novel. So, if you think like I do — don’t worry. If you don’t mind/like a little holiday cheer — don’t worry, you’ll find it.

A friend of the Tara Foundation, “Pups” (so-called because she takes care of stray puppies until they’re old enough to adopt out, and might be pickier than Willie when it comes to worthy humans). Is facing eviction because of the large number of puppies she has in her home, and a new neighbor is complaining. Pups isn’t really what you call “friendly,” “polite” or someone who “should be allowed to interact with people.” She’s crabby, opinionated, blunt and has no patience for fools — particularly fools that seem intent on messing with her and her puppies. So Pups has said a few things that make it sound like she’d be happy if the neighbor stopped breathing.

Which, naturally, means that he ends up killed and that someone did a really sloppy frame job on ol’ Pups. The frame job is actually bigger than just this one killing, but you can read that for yourself.

Why prosecutors continue to play hardball with Carpenter clients, I just don’t get. I never understood why Hamilton Burger insisted on taking Perry Mason’s clients to trial, and I can’t understand why New Jersey’s prosecutors don’t just dismiss charges the instant that Carpenter and Hike show up on the other side of a courtroom. But they don’t, which means we get to watch Andy do his thing, fret about his jury deliberation superstitions, and annoy a judge. Who could ask for more?

I really think the mystery, the culprit and the way things unfold in Twelve Dogs is better than the last few books in this series. Everything’s clicking just like it should in these pages. This may be some of the best Marcus material in quite a while — the way that the gang leader acts around and talks about “Mr. Marcus” tells you more about Marcus than anything that Andy could possible tell us. The book would be worth reading just for that.

Minor spoiler: and hopefully once the book is published, this’ll be taken care of. It was a shame to see Andy betting since he and Ricky and just made a promise to stop doing that about a third way through the last book (I’m too lazy to look up page number, an approach Andy would probably endorse) — and Laurie made it clear that he was expected to keep that promise. It’s a minor note that I probably only caught because I read the two passages in the same 24-hour period.

It’d be really hard to rank Carpenter books in terms of happy and/or sweet endings. But if you were bored/ambitious enough to take on that task, I’m pretty sure that this would find itself close to the top. A great addition to one of the more entertaining mystery series around.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Minotaur Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post — thanks to both for this.

—–

4 Stars

Outfoxed by David Rosenfelt

By HCNewton

On August 30, 2016

In Andy Carpenter, David Rosenfelt, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Outfoxed

by David Rosenfelt
Series: Andy Carpenter, #14

Hardcover, 326 pg.
Minotaur Books, 2016

Read: August 26 – 27, 2016

Last week, I talked about how difficult it is to come up with things to talk about with a long-running series like the Walt Longmire books — at a certain point, series like that hit a good stride and only vary a little in quality or interest for readers. Well, the Andy Carpenter series is even longer and more difficult to write about. I don’t know if I can do much, but I’ll try.

This time out, Andy has inherited a client already in prison, he’s basically supposed to deal with routine things and be ready to help him at the end of his sentence. This is made easier in that the client, Brian Atkins, is working with a dog training program that the Tara Foundation has going with the minimum security prison he’s in.

But then he breaks out of prison and is found leaving the scene of the murder of his estranged wife and his former partner.

But it’s so much bigger than just this (really, the case doesn’t seem as difficult as many of his — finding the actual killer is, but not the case) — Andy’s going to find himself at odds with one of the most dangerous foes he’s tangled with. Speaking of easy, I sort of think that everything ended a bit too easily, a bit too pat — I’m not sure how doing what they did really keeps Andy and his family safe.

I was wondering how Andy and Laurie were going to deal with juggling parenting and these cases, and man, do I hope they come up with better ways than this one. It works once, but not twice. I liked the little bit of fathering we get to see from Andy, though, and Ricky seems like he can be a decent addition to the series.

I don’t want to sound like I’m down on this book — or this series. It was a whole lotta fun, a nice puzzle, and watching the pieces fall into place was pretty satisfying. If you’re not reading these books, you’re missing out.

—–

3.5 Stars

United States of Books – Empire Falls by Richard Russo

By HCNewton

On August 29, 2016

In Fiction, General Fiction/Literature, United States of Books

Believe it or not — this was almost a lot longer, but I trimmed a lot to hopefully make it better.
—

Empire Falls

by Richard Russo

Hardcover, 483 pg.
Knopf, 2001

A few years ago, my parents took a trip through New England in the Fall to look at the leaves — I know, not an original idea, but for people from the Northwest, it’s not as common as it is for others. One of the places they drove through was Empire Falls and were telling me about some HBO series/book based there — I was vaguely aware of the book, having recently finished Russo’s Straight Man and told them that they’d probably enjoy it. I don’t think either of them gave it a shot (I could be wrong).

A few months later, I got around to reading it myself — wow. It so different in style and content from Straight Man, but it took me a long time to read, and (best of all) it was fantastic. It sent me reeling and made me want to read more by Russo. Sadly, the next book I read by him just about killed that (That Old Cape Magic). A couple of years go by and I decide to read all of his novels in order. When I get to Empire Falls, I skipped it. I just couldn’t do it again. I really didn’t enjoy about half of Russo’s novels, but I couldn’t deny the power of them, nor his skill. Nobody’s Fool, for example, I really didn’t enjoy — but here I am a couple of years later, and I still find myself thinking about a couple of characters and scenes at least three times a month. That’s staying power. (no, I haven’t gotten to the sequel that came out this year, for reasons I don’t fully understand)

Incidentally, I liked That Old Cape Magic better the second time around — actually, I think that was true for Straight Man, too. Liking Cape Magic was almost a given (would be hard to like it less), but I really enjoyed Straight Man the first time out — the second time I loved it. Both of those books deal with a different kinds characters than the rest of his books (including Empire Falls, which I’m getting to — I promise). Most of his books are about small towns and their citizens, usually dealing with economic hardships on the municipal and individual level. Frequently, cafes and bars are used to get the characters to interact with each other and there’s typically one guy who drinks too much, is fairly unreliable, yet everyone likes and enables. There’s humor, tragedy, history (actual and fictional), mixed with character and family struggles. Empire Falls checks every single box on the “what makes a Richard Russo novel” list, but does it bigger. If you’ve read Empire Falls, you’ve read almost every one of his books — which is not to say you shouldn’t read the rest (especially Straight Man and Bridge of Sighs) — but you’ll get a good idea what kind of things Russo typically deals with and how he does it.

Richard Russo is what Jonathan Tropper, Nick Hornby and Matthew Norman (and many others, probably, but these are the three I’m most familiar with) could easily become if they got a little more serious and a little darker. On the whole, the latter three are more entertaining (and funnier) — but Russo can pull that off when he wants to. You could also say that Russo is what Jonathan Franzen could be if he lightened up and got less pretentious. But mostly, you can say that I’m a giant fan.

Why am I blathering on? Mostly trying to give context for this post, but partially because it is just daunting to try to talk about this book — especially in something that’d make a decent-length blog post and not a full-fledged dissertation. But I’d better suck it up and get to it.

Empire Falls won Richard Russo his (seemingly) inevitable Pulitzer Prize in 2002 and stands as one of the greatest achievements in his storied career. It is at once a story about a town and a man, microcosms for the state and the nation; it’s both sweeping and epic while being personal and intimate.

The story centers on Miles Roby, manager of the Empire Grill in Empire Falls, ME. He has an ex-wife (who I truly despised), a daughter (who I wanted more of), an ex-mother-in-law that seems to like and respect him a lot more than her own daughter, s (even if they don’t see eye to eye much lately). But more importantly he has a patron — the town matriarch, owner of the Empire Grill, and most of the various places of employment in town. She’s a patron, a would-be surrogate mother (for a select few), and petty tyrant over the city. It’s one of those small towns where the mayor/council/etc. have real power, but it’s only the power she lets them have, you know? Francine Whiting isn’t evil — well, I’ll let you decide for yourself — but at the end of the day, she thinks she’s doing what is right for Empire Falls, the Whiting legacy and her daughter — whether or not anyone wants what she thinks is best. She still could be evil, I guess, and I could very likely made a case for it. Anyhow, let the reader decide.

The trials and dreams and efforts of Miles and his family as he tries to do something different with his life are the core of the novel — but they’re not all of it. The town is full of interesting people — many aren’t vital to the overall story (but you can’t know until the end who those are), but they all add flavor. Most are so fleshed out that you could imagine a short story/novel centered on them. While reading Song in Ordinary Time a few months back, I kept asking myself what made the people in that novel so unlikeable when in many ways they reminded me of Empire Falls‘ cast. I came to this conclusion (and have since reconsidered and still think it’s basically right): Russo uses the flaws in his characters to emphasize their humanity, Morris uses the flaws to emphasize their flaws.

But I come not to bury Morris (again), but to talk about Empire Falls, so let me focus on this a bit more: the flawed humanity isn’t pretty, it’s frequently ugly, people who make mistakes (some tragic, some dumb) are usually trying to do the right/moral/noble thing and it doesn’t work. But it’s real. This could all be real. Even Janice, Miles’ ex, is a well-developed character — and I think I’ve met a handful of people just like her — and I wouldn’t dislike her as much as I did if Russo hadn’t nailed the writing.

There’s an event towards the end — one of the two or three that you ultimately realize the whole novel has been leading up to — that in 2001 would’ve been truly shocking (shocked me a few years ago), but in many ways it’s de rigueur now. 2016 readers might be bored by it, but I can’t imagine that many readers in 2001 were. I’m not going to say more — just if you read this, put yourself in the shoes of readers from 15 years ago when you get to that bit.

Yes, Empire Falls is slow (sometimes), ponderous (sometimes) but it’s also inspiring (sometimes), heartwarming (sometimes) and many other things that I could parenthetically qualify. But every negative about it is utterly worth it for the positives.

What I learned about Maine: (haven’t done this in awhile, whoops). It’s a beautiful state, filled with people who could be better educated, who aren’t vocationally ready for what’s coming for them thanks to the technological shift in jobs. It’s a state where people, nature and industry who have been damaged by reckless policies and practices. It’s a state where nature exerts itself every now and then to remind people how powerful it is. Basically, Maine’s just like every other state in the union — just a little different.

One more thing, not that this’ll surprise many, but I’d advise skipping the HBO miniseries — yeah, it’s a fairly faithful adaptation, it just doesn’t have the heart.

I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t read this book for this series of posts — breaking a personal resolution. There were 3 reasons for this: 1. Time; 2. I really wasn’t up for the emotional punches this delivers, and 3. I didn’t need to — I still remember it well enough to discuss at a length greater than I have despite being 4 years and change since I read it. That right there should tell you something about the book — hundreds of books later and I almost feel like I read it a couple of weeks ago. I’m not sure that this is the Russo novel I’d tell people to start with (probably Straight Man), and I don’t think it’s his best (probably Bridge of Sighs (tells a story almost as epic in scope, with greater economy and greater depth when it comes to individual characters), but there’s no denying the talent on display here, the greatness of the execution, the vibrancy of the characters, or the impact it has on the reader. No brainer, 5 Stars from me.

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5 Stars

Trampling in the Land of Woe by William Galaini

By HCNewton

On August 26, 2016

In Fiction

Trampling in the Land of Woe

by William Galaini
Series: Patron Saints of Hell, #1

Kindle Edition, 360 pg.
Scarlet River Press, 2015

Read: August 24 – 25, 2016

This is a well-written, imaginative book with a stack of great characters — they have depth, individual voices and points of view. Coming up with the idea of this book is a stroke of something, I’m not sure what. I trust that Galaini’s parents had him tested as a child.

How do you even give a synopsis of this? Imagine Dante’s After-Life, but fuzzier on morality/religion/ethics than the Alighieri would be comfortable with. Denizens of Purgatory (and the Heavenbound) can move around from place to place (not sure if the damned can, it doesn’t appear so) — at least to “lower” levels than their own. As technology among the living advances, the dead use it, too — but instead of regular old Steam Power, they use Hellfire — which is a much better source of energy (for example). Living for thousands of years gives you plenty of time to refine your science.

Now, Alexander the Great’s right hand man, lifelong friend, and companion, Hephaestion, has decided that Alexander’s been consigned to Hell long enough and is going to liberate him. Hephaestion has been in Purgatory since his death and has spent a millennia or so preparing for his rescue mission. He’s going to sneak into Hell, track Alexander down and slip out the back door. The plan goes awry from almost the beginning and Hephaestion has to rely on newly minted friends and allies to get him where he’s going.

For some reason that’s only made clear at the end, the Jesuits aren’t fans of this, and use a variety of means (bribes, threats, assassins) to dissuade Hephaestion and his friends from their quest. Many of these assassins are ninjas. Which is just cool, I gotta say.

There’s all sorts of strange magic, odd beasts, crazy settings and some great fight scenes here — Galaini can write. Make no mistake.

But man, I just didn’t like it — I didn’t connect with any of the characters (there’s a couple I might’ve been able to, if they’d been around more), the quest seemed wrong-headed and doomed at best (as at least one person tried to tell Hephaestion), and I couldn’t muster up the interest to get invested. I persisted, in case he won me over (and Galaini came close), because I told the publisher I would, and I was mildly curious. My curiosity wasn’t rewarded, sadly. I’m not saying it’s a bad book — it’s not. It’s not a book for me.

I’m giving it 3 because it deserves at least that objectively on merit — my gut says to give it two, it just didn’t click for me — but it’s so well-written than I have to bump it up one. I do expect many would like it more than me, and if I’d read it at some other point in time, I might have liked it more (but I don’t think so).

Disclaimer: – I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion. I thank them for the opportunity.

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3 Stars