Tag: Reconstruction

I read 114 books I put in the category of “Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller” last year (and there are a couple of multi-genre novels that could beef that number up a bit), so I have to consider it apart from everything else when I put together my Favorites Lists, or just about everything else would get ignored. Even if I went with a Top 15-20 instead of a Favorite 10, maybe 2-3 books from the previous lists would’ve made it along with all of these.

I had a hard time writing up this post—not because I had a hard time picking the list this year (thankfully). Partially because I’m tired of doing these little snippets at this point in the week, but mostly because I want to write a thousand words or so on each one (and probably spend time re-reading huge chunks of each of these books in order to do that properly), so keeping myself to a paragraph or so is really difficult. I ended up borrowing liberally from things I’ve written here and elsewhere just to make sure this list was able to be posted before Feb. 26th.

Once again, I’ll note that I limit my lists to things I read for the first time. I’d be willing to guarantee anyone reading this page will enjoy at least 6 of these (which six will vary from reader to reader, however). I’m tempted to say that all the listed books are guaranteed for everyone, but people’s tastes are too varied, so I’ll hedge my bet. Try these, and you’ll be glad you did.

(in alphabetical order by author)

Robert B. Parker’s Bye Bye Baby

by Ace Atkins

My original post
It’s really no surprise that Atkins’ final Spenser novel makes this list—Spenser is one of my all-time favorites, and the decade that Atkins spent at the helm included several of the best novels in this long-running series (this is the 50th novel!!). He also helped legions of fans deal with Parker’s death by doing such a capable job. This book evokes some of Parker’s best early novels while remaining wholly original and compelling—true to both authors. It’s a great way for Atkins to go out.

Double Take

by Elizabeth Breck

My original post
In my original post, I said that it felt like Breck wrote this novel for me—I’m not that delusional, but it resonated with me in so many ways that she might as well have. Madison Kelly was one of my favorite discoveries of 2021 and her sophomore adventure solidified my impression of her. Madison’s tough, smart, lucky (and knows how important that is), and committed. Brisk and assured writing. A nice bit of sleuthing to find a pretty clever crime (committed by some people who really shouldn’t ever get into criminal activity—and some who seem born to it). Featuring the kind of ending where you find yourself leaning forward as you read, because somehow that helps you get to what happens next faster; you don’t hear the music/people/animals around you; and your eyes move just too slowly.

Racing the Light

by Robert Crais

My original post
We leave one of my newest PI obsessions to go back to one of my oldest—Elvis Cole. This is the best use of this character in years, and I loved every second of it. Like the best Cole novels, it starts as a missing persons case before turning into something far more complicated and deadly. But Cole is able to keep his focus on the victim (while finding justice for the wrongs he encounters). Joe Pike doesn’t get as much “screen time” as he has been lately, which makes every second that he’s around so much more effective—he owns one of the best moments of the book (and barely does anything in it). Racing the Light will no doubt be considered one of the pivotal moments in the series and I can’t wait to see what comes after this point.

The Botanist

by M.W. Craven

My original post
The last note I made on this novel was, “the last 30 pages made me happier than almost anything else this year.” And thinking back on those pages right now still makes me almost giddy. While Poe and Tilly are vital to the novel—ultimately, this novel is about the secondary characters—victims, suspects, and the killers. The primary case is brilliant on every front—the method of murder, the way that the method is finally discerned by the good guys, and then the way the case is closed? It’s all a thing of beauty (in the dark, warped way that Crime Fiction is to fans of the genre). I’m on the verge of babbling now, so I’m going to leave this and move on to the next novel on the list.

Don’t Know Tough

by Eli Cranor

My original post
I was blown away by this novel. I read it in May and I’m not convinced I’ve wholly recovered. It’s a story about faith, family, and (American) football. I can’t tell you which is more important to any character in this novel at any point (but I’d lean toward the latter for just about all of them). The prose is gorgeous and visceral, the story is intense and heart-breaking–it’s about a high school coach and a star player trying to keep their heads above water in the middle of a murder they’re both connected to. I can easily sound like I’m over-hyping this, so I’m not going to go on the way I want to. I’ll simply say that Cranor’s work is just gut-wrenching, beautiful, and powerful. And not to be missed.

Movieland

by Lee Goldberg

My original post
This series started off strong and keeps getting stronger. The overall arc of the series is a rookie detective (who got promoted earlier than she should have) learning how to be a good, maybe great, detective. Eve Ronin makes mistakes, she learns from many of them, but her instincts are on point and she eventually gets her criminals. If she can learn to do it without burning every bridge in sight and unintentionally antagonizing everyone she works with, she’ll get there faster. This is likely the last case her partner will work and he gives it everything he’s got—while imparting every bit of hard-earned wisdom to her as he can—and boy howdy, does he shine here. This is likely the best thing by Goldberg that I’ve read—and I’ve been a fan for a long time.

Reconstruction

by Mick Herron

My original post
Dead Lions by Herron would’ve been on this list, but I don’t let myself use one author more than once, so the spot goes to Reconstruction. Possibly because I spent far more time with this than I do with most books on a first read. Herron got everything right with this book. None of the primary characters are who you think they are at the beginning—most are far worse people than you think (including the ones you have a bad impression of—they’re even worse than you imagine). Which doesn’t stop them all from being some of the best designed and executed characters you’ll run into. The plot is like an onion (or a parfait, to appease Donkey)—you keep peeling back layer after layer after layer until the very end—and each layer is practically perfect and delicious (making it more like a parfait, now that I use that word). The narration is sneakily hilarious and dark. One of my earliest reads of the year and it set the bar high for the next 11 months.

The Self-Made Widow

by Fabian Nicieza

My original post
The premise of this sequel is fantastic—what’s a detective to do when they know who the killer is, but they’re not sure how or why the murder was committed. In fact, in the beginning, Andi’s the only one sure the victim was murdered at all. Kenny takes some time out from the documentary he’s making about the events of the previous novel to help Andi out (and hopefully to get another book, documentary, whatever out of it all). Andi’s up against someone as smart as her this time, and it’s going to take more than just Kenny’s help to crack the case. Told in Nicieza’s fantastic style this is a sure-fire winner.

The Bullet That Missed

by Richard Osman

My original post
This third book in The Thursday Murder Club series is about two things—the new case the Club decides to look into (mostly so Joyce can meet some local TV personalities) and fallout from the last book–on multiple fronts. As much as I enjoy this series for the lightness and joy it brings—the looming danger that arises as a side effect of their recent success was great. By all means, let’s let things get serious. Elizabeth’s husband, Stephen, steals this novel, however. He shines brighter than ever—and is in worse shape than ever before. This series is ultimately about grief and living in its shadow—that shadow seems larger than ever, and it’s just going to get bigger.

Family Business

by S. J. Rozan

My original post
This was the first novel I read in 2022, and it stuck with me throughout the year. I was shocked—and very pleased—by the actions of a long-term character. The narration was as good as Rozan has ever given us. Once again, Rozan takes us into the depths of Chinatown’s Organized Crime and does so in a way that no one expects. Lydia’s at her cleverest when it comes to solving the crime here—even if she might not be that wise when she reveals it. The relationship between Lydia and Bill has taken on new depths, and remains one of the best relationships in detective fiction. Family Business just made me happy from beginning to end.

I want to mention really briefly the books that almost made the list—tied for 11th, I guess you’d say. (fatigue and trying to keep this list from getting too long prevents me from just making my Favorites list long enough to contain them—preventing Reader Fatigue is more important than my own).
Hell of a Mess by Nick Kolakowski
Roses for the Dead by Chris McDonald (the other two parts of this trilogy could easily be substituted for this one)
Blood Sugar by Sascha Rothchild
Jacked, edited by Vern Smith
Killer Story by Matt Witten
(links will take you to my original posts about them)

Reconstruction by Mick Herron: A Tense and Cerebral Thriller

By HCNewton

On March 28, 2022

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

Reconstruction

by Mick Herron

DETAILS:
Publisher: SohoConstable
Publication Date: February 1, 2008
Format: Hardcover
Length: 352 pg.
Read Date: January 21-26, 2022

Memory plays tricks, everyone knows that: it shuffles the deck, charms the snake, hoists the rope into nowhere. It convinces you you know just where you were, what you were doing, then whap, the detail betrays you. Reconstruction is never simple. Two days from now, a grainy, after-the-event newspaper photo will show Jaime Segura wearing the jacket he’s wearing now, and it’s not a dark green bomber at all: it’s brown, it’s faux-leather; it has long sleeves turned up at the cuffs, and drops to mid-thigh. George Trebor will look at that picture and wonder how much else of what he remembers actually happened, and how much was simply processed by a mind taught, like everyone else’s, to join the dots. Nobody studies events every second that passes. Like speed cameras, we take one picture, then another; and allow the data gathered by experience to fill the gaps.

And, like speed cameras, sometimes there’s no film in the machine.

Oops

I knew I should’ve written this post before I talked about this book on the Barbican Station podcast, I’ve been struggling to write this since—I’ve lost the impulse, having said just about everything I can think of about the book.

But I’m about to run out of renewals at the library, so I’d better get something done.

What’s Reconstruction About?

On the surface, this is a story about an inadvertent hostage situation. A young man, Jamie Segura, is told that if something happens to his boyfriend, he’s to go to a nursery school in Oxford and find a lady there who can help him understand. Which is what he does.

On the way to the school, through circumstances far beyond his control, Jamie picks up a gun. So when he shows up at the school, he gets the attention of those present—one of whom, the teacher, shows a remarkable amount of presence of mind and locks the place down, so that no more people can be stuck inside with him—it’s just the aide who cleans up the place, this teacher and one father with his twins. Louise’s quick thinking keeps the other staff, parents, and students away.

In addition to the instruction to find the lady at this school, Jamie has a name, Ben Whistler. Whistler worked with Segura’s boyfriend, they both are accountants for MI6. Not really the kind of guy you want in a hostage negotiation, but when he’s the one man the hostage-taker will talk to, you make do.

As the novel progresses, we learn what brought each of the people to the school that morning—their motivations, their past, and their very tenuous present are peeled back and exposed (mostly for the reader, but some for them)—while we also see what happens from the time Whistler arrives. This novel is like an onion—or an ogre—each time you pull back a bit and reveal something, you discover there’s a lot more you need to discover. For me, the structure is reminiscent of Hawley’s The Fall but in a more compressed time—and perhaps more effectively told. But now I’m clearly out of things to say describing what happens and have started talking about the book in an evaluative way, so I’d better move on to the next heading.

The Gun

She’d never been this close to a gun—stupid: nobody had ever been this close to a gun; nobody with a normal life and ordinary aspirations. Eliot’s boys were crying, but that seemed a long way distant; much closer was the gun itself, which was this side of the railings now. While Louise gazed into its mouth, the boy holding it—the only one among them on his feet—closed the gate. That, at least, was normal; everything else had rattled free of its holdings, scattering reality around her like spring rain.

One of the things that really grabbed my attention early on was during the hostage situation was that the attention wasn’t on Jamie Segura, but on the gun he was holding. It’s all about the gun—at the moment, Louise probably couldn’t have described him at all, he’s a boy, that much she’s got, but nothing more. She’s not alone there, the others are in the same boat—the gun is what’s important, the gun is essentially personified.

That’s such a great choice. The reader is focused on the gun so easily, just like Louise and the others. Really, at that moment—even the reader isn’t that concerned with knowing anything about Jamie, just what’s he going to do with the gun. Later, once Ben Whistler arrives and starts to get Jamie to open up a little, then our attention and interest shift to him, as they ought. But that’s secondary.

Later in the novel, there are other guns that are important—but that, too, is for later. And even then, they’re not focused on the way this gun is, because we know the people behind them (largely) and what they’re going to be used for.

The Prose/Narrative Voice

‘Are you an only child?’

‘Am I a what?’

‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’

‘What’s that got to do with—no. No, I don’t. Do you?’

‘Second of four. All boys.’

‘Well, that explains your ease with women.’

‘Probably accounts for my competitive nature, too. I’ve never liked coming second.’

‘Is there a point to this?’

‘Something I’ve noticed about only children. They have a tendency to think events revolve around them.’

We meet the narrator of this very early on—at the same time they tell us they’re not going to be around anymore (they might have 2 sentences total where they mention themselves). So we know that this isn’t some sort of neutral or omniscient third-person. There’s a human involved in telling this story, but we know precious little about them. But it does add some color to the reader’s experience.

The novel is told in a wry, detached sort of humor—but there’s nothing funny going on. It’s very strange—it’s not a comic thriller, those contain things you’re supposed to laugh at, actually funny moments. This is told like that without any humor. Individual phrases, sentences, paragraphs—even a couple of paragraphs are funny if you read them out of context. There’s a lot of wit involved in the way the words are assembled. But in context, nothing’s funny. It’s deadly serious, and even the wry narrative comment or three doesn’t relieve the tension–if anything it ratchets up the tension.

I don’t know how Herron pulled it off. I really don’t. I spent time re-reading passages trying to see if I could figure it out. And I just can’t. It’s the kind of thing where I see it in action, admire it and then have to move on.

What Exactly is Being Reconstructed?

I don’t spend too much time thinking about titles to books, really. I’ll think about “The 2019 X Character book” or “The Y Writer Stand-alone about Z” with a vague idea about when I read it—if I need the title, well, that’s what my spreadsheets and Goodreads are for.

But every now and then, a title will stick in the back of my head as I read a book—this is one of those cases. What could Reconstruction be referring to? The rebuilding of post-war Iraq? The police (or someone else) taking all the evidence around the hostage situation and putting together how it happened? The narrator taking in everything and putting it together in a way the police can’t? or…I have a list of around a dozen guesses. I’m pretty sure at least half of them are defensible. Like the layers of story and character that Herron peels back, there’s a lot to think about in just the title.

So, what did I think about Reconstruction?

…today is either the first day of the rest of your life or the last day of your old one, depending on how things work out. It’s Tuesday, April 3rd. The weather’s set for fair. Sunlight has already reached the bedspread, drawing upon it a range of shadow mountains whose outcrops and valleys exactly match the folds and ridges of the curtaintops. It’s time to get up. It’s time to get up.

The book opens with (almost) all of the characters waking up, going about their normal business not knowing if today is the first day of the rest of their life or the last day…all they know is that they have to get up and do some things. Then The Gun (and the poor, scared young man holding it) show up at the nursery school, and everything changes.

I’ve read and listened to Slow Horses, and while I enjoyed it, I’ve yet to move on in the series (I’m not sure I can explain why). But this book turned me into a Mick Herron fan—it’s going to be one of those books I’m thinking about for a long time to come. (and the more I think about it, the more I like it)

It took me a little bit to settle in—but even before I did, I was loving the prose and narration. Once Herron finished setting things up and introducing characters and starts letting them just do what characters do, I was hooked. From the surprising and horrific image (and sound!) of a car striking a man running out in front of it, through the events at the nursery, to the jaw-dropping last page—and killer last line. This is a great read.

5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

I Was On a Thing: Barbican Station – Episode 13

By HCNewton

On February 28, 2022

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, News/Misc.

I have Podcasted—is that the right conjugation?—I have Podcast? I have committed Podcast? I have appeared on a podcast, I guess is the way to put it.

A month or so ago, Friend of the Blog, Jeff Quest who took part in a Q&A some time back about the podcast he co-hosts*, Like the Wolfe. invited me onto one of his other podcasts, Barbican Station. Barbican Station is primarily a look at Mick Herron’s Slough House series, but he’s also looking at some of Herron’s other works, which is where I come in. We discussed Herron’s stand-alone, Reconstruction. Reconstruction is an Espionage-adjacent Thriller, but more of something in the Crime Fiction genre. It’s—simply put—great and the work that turned me into a Herron fan.

We spent about an hour talking about Reconstruction, Herron in general, Slough House, and a few other things. It was a blast. Give it a listen–while you’re at it, give it an extra one for me, since there’s no way I’m going to bear listening to the voice that isn’t Jeff’s.

* He also contributed a nice post in my Strolling Down Amnesia Lane series last year.