Noir Journal . . . investigating noir fiction and film

Noir Journal 52: Renegades

Renegades: My Wild Trip from Professor to New Journalist with Outrageous Visits from Clint Eastwood, Reggie Jackson, Larry Flynt, and other American Icons

by Robert Ward   
(Tyrus Books: March 17, 2012) 

 Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

Robert Ward went from professor to author to journalist to television scriptwriter. Renegades is a collection of pieces from his journalism era when he interviewed some of the biggest names of the time--the 70s and 80s. From sports stars (Pete Maravich, Reggie Jackson) to music and film stars (David Allan Coe, Clint Eastwood) to a few hard to classify(Larry Flynt, LeRoy Neiman), Ward--something of a renegade himself--visited with headlining renegades.
Two of the Ward's rebels fit the scope of Noir Journal--Lee Marvin and Robert Mitchum.

Ward's first impression of Lee Marvin was viewing The Big Heat as a ten-year-old boy. For those who missed the 1953 Glenn Ford film, Marvin played the vicious, conscienceless Vince Stone. In a scene shocking for the time, he rages at Gloria Graham and scalds her severely by throwing hot coffee in her face.

 Ward was prepared to deal with a rough man when he connected with Marvin but was surprised by his depth, the indelible scars left on his psyche by World War II service in the Marines, and his kindness. No, Marvin was not a pussycat, but neither was he the barbarian who crawled up out of some gutter that some of his finest screen performances might suggest. It was a class actor who created that illusion.  

Ward's profile of Marvin is interesting and touching. The respect and love Ward felt for Marvin radiates from the words.

Robert Mitchum was one of those men who have the magic charisma irresistible to women. Ward's description of the reactions he saw in women 18 to 80 when Mitchum walked into the room or down the hall confirms that. 
The article on Mitchum in this collection was written during the promotion for That Championship Season. Mitchum was no spring chicken at that point but was still drinking heavily and exuding his well-known aura of sexuality. 
In all of the interviews, Ward was able to establish a rapport with his subjects and produce a portrait showing them as three-dimensional beings. However, it's intriguing to compare the Marvin and Mitchum pieces. It isn't that Ward did not respect Mitchum for his talent but, while the affection he felt for Marvin stands out, the picture of Mitchum was written by a man doing his job. 
The corollary is: I learned much about Marvin as a person that I had not known. Nothing about Mitchum was a surprise. I was smiling and nodding all the way.
Which selections from Renegades will appeal to the reader will depend on each one's tastes. The variety of men profiled offers something for all interests.

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Lost in America: A Dead-End Journey by Colby Buzzell (Harper: August 23, 2011)

Reviewed by Jim Rosenfeld 

As free as you think you are in today’s society there is a constraint that tethers you to your home, your roots and yourself. Whether you are a stranger to yourself or a malaise to your wife. Which Colby Buzzell may have been at some juncture of his journey through America? He tells a story of dismay and dismal America and happily tells his editor to fuck off as he takes his own journey, not east to west, but from the crack smoke infestation of San Francisco’s Tenderloin to Monsanto’s infested corn fields of the  Midwest to the United States Rustbelt. A trip I would wish on no one, especially knowing and spending time in all three places in my lifetime.

I read, true or not, that Colby was told to create his version of Kerouac’s pessimistic and rumpus review of America in a time of great worry. I disagree with this editor or mentor; this is not possible in today’s world. I agree with Colby to take his own trip to discover what he thought was his unleashing. Yet, again today’s constraints win. In an overconnected and underappreciated atmosphere we dwell. In this the 21^st century America where do we find ourselves creating something out of the past literary past?

That touch of brilliance we once read, Buzzell has not. The true harsh reality he so aches for he hammers home, the whole book. I think the harsh impact of his life renders him faceless when he is tasked an assignment. One that might take thought and charisma, something the Beats possessed and Buzzell shows. That romanticism of the open unknown world will never exist again. Though through his chapters he seems to enjoy every cigarette more than the next. Every beer and corner brings him new characters, as it did for Kerouac when he set out.

Similarities? Sure. What Lost in America shows and allows me to believe is that somewhere within all of us beats an emotion that wishes we could leave work and our families for the open road. That idea helps us to work hard no matter the conditions of our government or if we have seen friends pass away from war or other sad measures. In that I take solace. Colby Buzzell gives me that in this worthwhile read of what my generation feels and wishes to speak about.

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 Thanks to the people at Tyrus books and at Harper for the review copies of these books.

 

Noir Journal 51: Supernatural Noir

Supernatural Noir

Edited by Ellen Datlow (Dark Horse, June 2011)  

Reviewed by author Nikki Dudley

In the introduction to Supernatural Noir, Datlow provides a definition from Paul Duncan’s book Noir Fiction, which says that noir is “used to describe any work, usually involving a crime – that is notably dark, brooding, cynical, complex and pessimistic.”

 

What we get in this collection of stories is just what the title suggests – the trademarks of noir intertwined with supernatural elements such as elves, ghouls, the devil, psychics, and magic. There’s plenty more too – much more than I can explain in this review. And plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin all of the surprises.

 

The narrators in the short stories range from tortured detectives, to hopeless nobodies, to a wandering vagrant, to an opportunist whore – each of them, long-embedded (or in rare cases, suddenly embedded) in the world of noir. The writing style is like the action – straight to the point and ruthless. The dialogue is smart and brooding. The twist being the appearance of the supernatural in the dark nihilistic world all the characters inhabit.

 

Some of my favourites include the brutal fabricated creature in The Dingus by Gregory Frost, the amorous ghoulish grave robber in Dead Sister by Joe R. Lansdale, and the mysterious ‘Dreamer’ in Nick Mamatas’s Dreamer of the Day. These three stories and a lot of the others epitomised the irony, the gruesome details, and the doom that the mixture of noir and the supernatural creates.

 

After all, what could make a dark, brooding and complex narrative even darker and more brooding? It appears this collection provides the answer. If you don’t like too many elves or magical beings with your noir, maybe give this a miss. But if you’re open to a great read with a lot of talented voices, with a warped take on noir, this is the collection for you. 

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Thanks so much to Ellen Datlow for the review copy of Supernatural Noir

And many thanks to to Nikki Dudley (pictured, left) for writing the review.

Click to learn more about Nikki Dudley and her book Ellipsis.

Also see my review of Dudley's Ellipsis and my interview with her, both in Spinetingler. 

 

Noir Journal 50: Mike Dennis and Key West Noir

Welcome to Noir Journal #50, featuring Key West noir author Mike Dennis. Dennis's books include Setup on Front Street and The Ghosts of Havana, among others. M. C. Pastoret reviewed Setup in Noir Journal 45. Click here to read that review.

Let's begin NJ 50 with a guest post from Mike Dennis himself

MY FIRST TASTE OF NOIR

by Mike Dennis, 2012

Sometime around 1990, I read an interview with the actress Anjelica Huston. In it, she hyped her upcoming movie, The Grifters. I loved the title and Huston mentioned that it was from a novel by Jim Thompson.

Who?

In my sheltered world, I had never heard of the novel or Jim Thompson, but thanks to Black Lizard/Vintage Crime and their aggressive program of rereleasing old titles from the likes of Thompson, David Goodis, Charles Willeford, et al, I could run down to my local bookstore to stock up on these new editions and quickly get up to speed.

In addition to opening the gate to those great authors, the Huston interview did one more thing I'd never seen before. It mentioned the word "noir" in connection with fiction.

Now, I'd been a film noir fan for many years prior to this, but it never occurred to me to apply the term to books. Film noir carries the intoxicating images of wet city streets at night, awash in a dizzying mix of shadow and light. Detached losers sitting around shabby rooms thick with cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey, naked light bulbs hanging from ceilings, the smell of the doublecross forever lingering in the air.

But now, here it was in print! The same bleakness born of anti-modernism, the same utterly unpretentious tales told in the vernacular of the streets, and more importantly, the language of the reader. After centuries of sentimentality and humanism, an offshoot of literature had, unbeknownst to me, taken a turn in the 1930s and 40s toward hard tales of society's minor players who often wander through their lives unseen by most other people. These are not professional criminals, but rather ordinary joes and janes who get caught up in the backwater of their own poor choices. And when the fiddler is done, he must be paid.

I can't really say why I identify so thoroughly with these characters, or for that matter, with the authors who created them. My own life has been relatively charmed, unfettered by the desperate situations faced by most noir protagonists or their creators. All I know is that when I read The Grifters, along with all the noir novels that followed, they spoke to me. And I listened.

After writing a few starter novels, I eventually turned to noir. The Take was my first published novel and is noir in every sense. I then began a series called Key West Nocturnes, designed to lift the veil off Key West, revealing it as a true noir city, on a par with Los Angeles, New Orleans, or Miami.

The novels are all standalones, with the first being Setup On Front Street, about an ex-con returning to Key West to collect a debt. The second, The Ghosts Of Havana, begins as pure noir, but incorporates thriller elements into it as the book progresses. The third, Man-Slaughter, is noir from A to Z and is in the polishing stage as I write this.

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THE GHOSTS OF HAVANA (Mike Dennis, 2011, 259 pages)

 reviewed by M. C. Pastoret

Maybe you’ve seen the ads: “Key West: Close to perfect. Far from normal.” Snorkeling around shipwrecked galleons in pristine waters. Pretty tourists and arty locals, carnival colors, sparkling nightlife and endless sunshine…. Sound nice? Well, Mike Dennis would like to invite you to another Key West altogether.

That’s where the tourists are buying their tee-shirts in shops that launder Russian mob money, while ordinary joes are left to get by, get away or get ahead as their luck allows. There’s Robbie, for one—just Robbie, the only name we get. He owns the Havana Club on Duval Street. After two years of a miserable economy and “not enough of every god-damned thing I need to stay above the waterline,” he works a little shy business on the side, with two burly “associates” to collect the vig.

One of Robbie’s latest customers is also his club’s singer, a hotheaded Cuban beauty named Olivia. Her final payment to Robbie—three grand—is due, but Robbie’s muscle finds Olivia dead in her dressing room, her throat cut and the money missing. Robbie, the cops and Elena, the dead girl’s sister, all suspect Victor, owner of the Wild Thing, the skanky strip joint where Olivia earned the vig to pay Robbie. Olivia had not only refused to stay on—she was Victor’s biggest draw—but insulted him, too, and Robbie thinks Victor had her killed for it. Victor denies it, of course. If Robbie lets it go, “I’d be opening myself up for every dipshit grifter to come after me.” Still, Victor’s involvement doesn’t fit when Robbie learns that Olivia’s apartment was very professionally trashed by someone searching for something other than the three grand.

Then Robbie extracts convincing evidence that while Victor got Robbie’s money, he did not in fact have Olivia killed. Another suspicion begins to dawn on Elena. Piece by piece, it comes together. Olivia and Elena are the granddaughters of a man who not only fought at the Bay of Pigs, but survived Castro’s brutal prison, too. He later made it to Miami and joined Alpha 66, a group of Bay of Pigs veterans intent on fostering unrest back in the Beard’s domain. The grandfather was murdered in 1964—throat cut, just like Olivia. It could be that he knew too much. About someone… or some thing.

After his murder, his widow fled to Key West to live anonymously and away from the Cuban exile movement. She brought with her a secret she believed would keep her family safe from her husband’s fate. When her own long life draws to a close, she seeks to pass that secret on to her granddaughters, and leaves them the keys to a safe deposit box in Las Vegas that holds an item she believes is better than insurance for her family. But it seems that the secret is already well known to a few shadowy figures. Rather than have it revealed, they will go to any lengths to bury it with all the other ghosts of the revolutionary past.

So did Alpha 66 butcher Olivia? And if they did, why? When “grudges are passed on through the generations,” Elena can’t believe that Olivia’s murder is not linked to her grandfather’s.  But that doesn’t explain the men posing as Federal agents who beat Robbie senseless looking for something Olivia might have had. Or the “government man” from Washington named Hackett, who’d been CIA on the Key during the Cuban missile crisis. Or the real FBI agent who reveals that Hackett is a renegade with his sights fixed on Robbie. The imperative of  “national security” is waved in Robbie’s face like a cudgel. And somehow it’s all because of that thing in the box in Vegas. Elena is determined to get it; Robbie agrees to help her: If only they can get to the box before everyone else gets to them….

This is one complicated plot, and Dennis serves up plenty of tension and some classic suspense elements to hold it together. There’s the desperate quest for a thing that men grown old, yet no less vigilant, will kill to possess. And yes, the ghosts of long-ago crimes haunt on into the present. But Dennis has another level of tension at work here as the political becomes all too personal for Robbie. He only thinks he understands his motive in helping Elena: “She had a target pinned to her lovely, ample chest…. It dawned on me that it was entirely possible she would end up like her sister, her bloody hand grasping for the last drops of life as they flowed out of her neck. No one else could help her right now…. Only me. I wasn’t there for Olivia. I had to be there for Elena.” 

But where does that leave Trish, the love of his life, “who knows me inside and out,” a woman who can take the raw truth and give it right back? “All I ever wanted to do was run my bar, hold Trish close to me, and get my three dimes back from Victor. But what I got was a one-way ticket on a slow ride into the fucking quicksand.” Can he save Elena yet resist her allure, turn away from her cocoa-colored eyes, “that walk that the best Cuban girls have”? And can they both survive the knowledge of what they find in that box—something with the power to rewrite history itself?

The Ghosts of Havana is the second in Mike Dennis’ Key West Nocturnes series. It is not a sequel, but if you’ve read Setup on Front Street (and if you haven’t, you should), you will recognize in this noir territory some familiar names and places, like Ortega, the police lieutenant who has mellowed some since we last saw him; Ryder, the FBI agent, hardened and sharpened by the years; the Whitney and DeLima families, casting their influence down the generations; and that tourist-free Old Town joint Mambo’s, with its enticing Cuban food and its “nightly assembly of grifters, gamblers, and B&E boys.” As he did in Setup, Dennis adds deft touches to even minor characters like Blaine, one of Robbie’s “associates” who packs a suitcase of books when he heads out on a job, and can while away a stakeout droning on about Steinbeck “and some guy named Chandler.”

Those ads for Key West? They beckon you to “come as you are.” It’s even better advice when Mike Dennis is your tour guide.

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Now Ann Snuggs briefly reviews a Mike Dennis short story she enjoyed--not Key West Noir, but Vegas Noir.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Eyes, " by Mike Dennis (December 2011)

For those who have never read Mike Dennis and want a quick sample of his writing, these is no better intro than the short story, "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Eyes."

Using a plot line as old as the human race - male swept away by female and participating in a setup he knows is wrong - Dennis tells the tale of drab, plodding, everyman Harry, sucked into crime by the exquisite Petra of the mesmerizing blue eyes, who just needs a little favor and will, of course, pay Harry to help her. As if he wouldn't follow her anywhere for free!

With the art of a skilled raconteur who always freshens a familiar yarn, Dennis uses a sparkling flow of vivid wording to bring Harry and Petra to life in this highly enjoyable short story.

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About Mike Dennis

Thirty years of playing music isn’t exactly the best training for an author. Thirty years of writing would be more like it. But playing music is what I did, so that’s what I had to work with. . . . To read more about Mike Dennis, click here.

And take a look at Mike Dennis's Web Site.

Let's end with a couple more covers of Mike Dennis books.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Noir Journal 49: Devil's Concubine, Chicago Mystery, Unburied Dead

Welcome. Noir Journal is once again honored to present a book review by award-winning Irish crime writer Sam Millar.

The Devil’s Concubine, a graphic novel by Palle Schmidt  (IDW Publishing, May 2011) 

Set in a large European city, The Devil's Concubine revolves around two cool but not too clever hitmen hired by an unknown party to retrieve a mysterious package. When the two hitmen– Jean-Luc and Linda–accidentally shoot their contacts at the exchange without getting their money first, the shit really hits the fan. Chased by the police, a gang of dangerous Rastafaris, and an erratic crime boss out for their blood, the pair bluff and shoot their way through the seedy underworld on their way to the man who hired them–and toward their own destruction!

Hitmen messing up their intended hits is nothing new in hard-boiled crime tales, but the really good ones are able to integrate a gripping and refreshing twist on the genre. The Devil’s Concubine is one of the really good ones.

The art is beautifully rendered and a delicious feast for the eyes, slicing and dicing so quickly we barely have time to blink away the blood from beneath our lids. The two hitmen–the manic and impulsive Linda and the almost saliently silent Jean-Luc–are a marriage made in hell. Perfect noir dwellers down to their last pocket of luck, with holes aplenty for what little of that remaining luck to fall through. The story is told at a breakneck pace with sardonic and ultra-readable dialogue kicked in for good measure.

Not only did Schmidt create the characters, he drew, colored and wrote the entire thing. A remarkable achievement by anyone’s standards.

Overall, The Devil’s Concubine is a compelling must-read book of modern noir, crafted with so much love you know the man put his heart and soul into it. The ending will kill you. Guaranteed.

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Next, Noir Journal welcomes a new reviewer, Richard Reeder. Reeder teaches courses on the writings of Chicago authors Saul Bellow and Joseph Epstein and has also worked for the Chicago city government and remains active in local politics. He has written a collection of memoir vignettes as part of his "Chicago Sketches," which you can read at, A Literary Reeder.  

Start Shooting, by Charlie Newton (Doubleday, January 2012)

Charlie Newton’s second novel, Start Shooting, is a story of childhood sweethearts, who after twenty-nine years apart, reunite in a labyrinth of intrigues in modern-day Chicago. Bobby Vargas—the good cop in the novel—and his actress girlfriend, Arleen Brennan, fend off bad cops, most prominently Bobby’s brother Ruben. They also fend off Mexican gangbangers, a rogue CIA agent, Japanese viral terrorists and a psycho Vietnamese orphan who are out to get them.

Bobby, a son of Mexican immigrants, and Arleen, the daughter of Irish immigrants, grew up in the tough neighborhood of Four Corners, around Eighteenth and Laflin.  Arleen had a twin sister, Colleen, who was brutally raped and murdered when she was thirteen. A young gangbanger was convicted of the crime and executed. Twenty-nine years later a newspaper reporter decides to reinvestigate the case and Bobby Vargas’ name surfaces as a prime suspect. A spate of current sexual abuse charges are suddenly filed against Bobby, who for seventeen years on the force had nothing but exemplary behavior.

Arleen, returning to Chicago from Los Angeles where she tried an acting career, suddenly gets a chance to audition as Blanche DuBois in a major Chicago production of A Streetcar Named Desire. This looms as her big chance of stardom. The audition is arranged through Bobby’s brother Ruben who asks her to do a few favors that put both her and Bobby in harm’s way.

The plot of the novel is complex and slowly revealing. Chicago is rebidding to win the 2016 Olympics bid, after Rio opted out. Tokyo remains Chicago’s sole competitor, yet ironically a Japanese corporation has emerged as the major financial supporter of the Windy City’s bid.

In the end, the disparate elements of the novel gel together and leave the reader with a satisfying conclusion. A potential 9/11-type disaster is also part of the story.

Newton writes like a guy who knows the streets of Chicago. He understands the city’s greatness as well as its insidious underbelly, that fascinating dichotomy that makes Chicago such a great source for storytelling.      

 

 

Newton

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Now a review from regular Noir Journal contributor Ann Snuggs.

The Unburied Dead, by Douglas Lindsay (Blasted Heath, February 2012) 

Douglas Lindsay's dark, cold The Unburied Dead might be called a police procedural - except society hopes that all law enforcement units are not like the one in Glasgow where Detective Sergeant Thomas Hutton works. This group puts the "dys" in the term, "dysfunctional."

Some reviewers are labeling this tale “black comedy” but these detectives are sad, not funny.

Call it noir.

When a young women is found brutally murdered–one hundred and twenty-five stab wounds–the men and women of the station are under the gun. The higher-ups want this case solved. So does the press.

Heavy-drinking Detective Chief Inspector Jonah Bloonsbury is put in charge of the case. After all, he has come through before to uncover the culprit in highly publicized murder cases–from his big breakthrough as a sergeant some fifteen years earlier, when he followed a hunch, to the Addison case only a year ago–but he's hitting the bottle hard now.

Then a young woman escapes the killer and a few leads begin to develop. Before a case and an arrest can be made, one of the station's own is killed. Did she know something or is it just coincidental? She did resemble the first victim. But, she also knew some buried secrets at the station. Tension mounts as another of the crew is killed while investigating a lead on his own.

The first third of the book is so enmeshed in personal issues of the police–the unburied dead of the title?–that it drags. Don't give up. As the story progresses, the plot twists and turns until the reader is racing around the curves only to find double twists at every turn. 

The Unburied Dead is carried by plot rather than the characters. In spite of the amount of detail about their personal lives and sexual fantasies and even some of Hutton's flashbacks to his war service in Bosnia, it is difficult to care much about these people. The psychotic killer is perhaps the most intriguing of the personae.  

Fans of dark crime fiction will find Lindsay's latest well-worth time spent to read it. But it doesn't quite make the drop-everything, don't-miss-this category.

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And finally, a quick shout-out for a book I've recently read, Jake Hinkson's Hell on Church Street (New Pulp Press, January 2012). This is noir as dark and dirty and as twisty as it gets. It's got skillfully rendered hypocrisy, greed, murder, and lives spiralling hopelessly out of control. This book deserves comparison to the noir classic The Killer Inside Me, by Jim Thompson. After reading Hell on Church Street as well as Heath Lowrance's The Bastard Hand, I'd say that New Pulp Press definitely seems to be putting out some instant noir classics.

 

That's it for now,

ML

All books reviewed have been provided as review copies from either the author, publisher, or publicist.

 

 

 

 

 

Noir Journal 48: Guest Post from Reed Farrel Coleman

Welcome and Happy Holidays. A couple of days ago, Noir Journal went past 30,000 hits since Noir Journal #1 in October 2009. Thanks to so many people--too many to mention (just read through the 48 posts to see who they are) but a big thank you to Noir Journal's first two friends: the great crime novelists Allan Guthrie and Sam Millar.

Now, let's begin . . .

In Noir Journal 47 Ann Snuggs reviewed Reed Farrel Coleman's new book, Hurt Machine. To read that review, click here. 

To mark the book's publication date of Dec. 18, 2011, Coleman has provided Noir Journal with an exclusive guest post.

Thanks to Reed and to Leyane Jerejian at FSB Associates for arranging everything, sending the review copy, and for giving us permission to reprint Coleman's article "Four that Got Me Here," at the end of this post--about the four books that were his most powerful influences as a crime fiction writer. 

Now to the Coleman guest post, in which he provides some insight into his own writing process and into the future of his P.I. Moe Praeger.

 

 

Finding the Book

By Reed Farrel Coleman,

Author of Hurt Machine 

I've never been an outliner and hope never to be one, but until just recently I didn't understand why I found the process so off-putting. I have said that writing an outline is like writing the book once, so why would I want to write it again with all the surprise taken out of it? I guess that's part of it. I have also said that once I've done an outline, I feel compelled to write to what I've already put down on paper. That's part of it too. I've said that the joy and pleasure I get from writing is in the not knowing, in listening to my characters and following their leads. Surely, outlining puts a crimp in that notion. Where is the adventure in having the writing equivalent of a GPS?

So, back to this revelation. I've decided that my Moe Prager series is coming to an end. Let's face it, Moe is in his mid-sixties and recovering from cancer. While I don't think that necessarily disqualifies him from being a PI, I do feel the series has nearly run its course. There will be two more novels in the series after Hurt Machine (Tyrus Books, December 2011): one a prequel, Onion Street, featuring Moe as a college student involved in an incident that leads to his becoming a cop, and an as-yet-to-be titled novel about Moe's final case.

The thing is, I was really struggling with Onion Street. I knew the story. I knew the crime. I knew the players, the setting . . . Hell, I even had the title! The first chapter fairly appeared on my computer screen as if by magic. I knew more about this book before I started than almost any other project I've ever tackled. Apparently, I knew a little too much about it. I wrote and wrote and wrote and for all the words I put down, they amounted to very little. I couldn't find my way into the book. I've been at this long enough -- twenty years and fourteen published novels -- to spot the problem. But spotting the problem is just half the battle.

It was only after a long discussion with my friend and colleague Peter Spiegelman that I understood what was going on. I knew nearly everything about Onion Street except the two most important things. I had discovered neither the proper tone for the book nor its emotional core. Like chickens and eggs, you can't have one without the other. And for me at least, I couldn't write very well without them both. I had, without realizing it, outlined Onion Street in my head. Knowing the series was coming to its end had changed my usual process because it altered the way I thought about and conceived of future books. I had fallen into my own trap. By pronouncing there would be only two more books in the series, I was now forced to write to a particular outcome, always a taboo for me.

Understanding that has let me move beyond it and now Onion Street is moving along nicely. No one enjoys struggle and a lot of what writing is about is struggle. I never fail to learn something from my struggles. Here I learned that it's okay to know things about the book you're about to write as long as they're the right things. More importantly, I learned that the real danger in outlining is for me is that it hinders the discovery of the most essential ingredients in my writing process.

© 2011 Reed Farrel Coleman, author of Hurt Machine

Author Bio

Reed Farrel Coleman, author of Hurt Machine, is the former executive vice president of Mystery Writers of America. He has published twelve novels -- two under his pen name Tony Spinsosa -- in three series, and one stand-alone with award-winning Irish author Ken Bruen. His books have been translated into seven languages.

Reed is a three-time winner of the Shamus Award for Best Detective Novel of the Year. He has also received the Macavity, Barry, and Anthony Awards, and has been twice nominated for the Edgar® Award. He was the editor of the anthology Hard Boiled Brooklyn, and his short fiction and essays have appeared in Wall Street Noir, The Darker Mask, These Guns For Hire, Brooklyn Noir 3, Damn Near Dead, and other publications.

Reed is an adjunct professor at Hofstra University, teaching writing classes in mystery fiction and the novel. He lives with his family on Long Island.

For more information please visit http://www.reedcoleman.com/, and follow the author on Facebook and Twitter

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(This article originally appeared on FW Crime, and F+W Media, Inc. Company. Thanks again to Leyane Jerejian for permission to reprint it.)

The Four That Got Me Here — Reed Farrel Coleman

Reed Farrel Coleman, author of the Moe Prager mystery series cites four major influences on his appreciation of crime fiction as a reader and writer.

Farewell, My Lovely

By Raymond Chandler

It was when I was finished with this book that I knew I was put on this earth to write crime fiction.

Kindle | Nook | Sony |

 

 

Red Harvest

By Dashiell Hammett

Showed me that you could discuss big themes in crime fiction as long as your work was entertaining.

Kindle | Nook | Sony |

 

 

A Dance at the Slaughterhouse

By Lawrence Block

No Matt Scudder, no Moe Prager.

Kindle | Nook | Sony |

 

 

Berlin Noir

By Philip Kerr

Kerr’s writing of Bernie Gunther is as close in tone to what I try to achieve for Moe.

Amazon | B&N

 

To read the original article, go to  http://www.fwcrime.com/prologue/fourreedcoleman

That's it. Some interesting new reviews to come soon from the illustrious Noir Journal group of reviewers.

Stay safe for the holidays.

ML

 

Noir Journal 47: Hurt Machine, Sisters Brothers, Nightmare Alley

Welcome. Let's start right in with the reviews.

Hurt Machine, by Reed Farrel Coleman, Tyrus Books (Dec. 18, 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

Wow!

It's hard to strike a balance between a hard-edged crime tale and a novel involving a man dealing with the news of a possibly fatal cancer eating away at his body but in Hurt Machine Reed Farrel Coleman does just that. With the skill and grace of an ace tightrope walker, Coleman creates an absorbing story of murder, lies and secrets investigated by aging private investigator Moe Prager, who has just learned that he has a golf ball-sized, malignant tumor in his stomach.

Moe is looking forward to his daughter Sarah's rapidly approaching wedding, especially now that he is facing surgery, chemo and all the pain that goes along with a cancer. He will not announce the news before that event. Distractions before that are welcome. And, his oncologist did tell him it might be wise to "get your house in order."

Yet an unwelcome distraction pops up as Moe waits--impatiently--for his girlfriend Pam to join him for a pre-wedding party.

His ex-wife Carmella Melendez walks around the corner and back into Moe's life, pulling him into a maelstrom of emotional upheaval--his at seeing her again after eight years of absence and also the raw emotions of those involved in the case she asks him to take for her--the murder of her sister, Alta Conseco. Moe cannot refuse her.

Alta was stabbed on the street outside Gelato Grotto, a popular pizzaria. The police got little help from the witnesses. Alta was persona non grata in many places since she and her EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) partner, Maya Watson, refused treatment to a man who died less than two months before her death.

Twists and blind alleys abound as Moe begins his scrutiny of the murder, the untreated victim, the senders of hate mail, the webs of connections, the secrets. They form a net of intrigue that is hard to escape--for Moe and for the reader. Moe feels a need to find out who killed Alta but, even more, he needs to know why she and her partner let Robert Tillman die. Was there a link between the two incidents?

Through every step of the investigation, the tumor rides along with Moe like a persistent mosquito. His philosophical musings meld into the story beautifully, adding texture and richness. After all, he is dealing with death. The ones for which he seeks answers are violent, surrounded by ugly rumors, hatred, bitterness and questions, but the cancer within also reeks of death-- his own--and much sooner than his natural lifespan.

Every old friend, acquaintance or enemy that he runs across in the investigation brings not only the present but also the past to mind. The cancer makes him more reflective, more blunt and more inclined to ruminate about his past and the meaning of life. He also sees the new people he meets in a different light. It's interesting how facing a more immediate end of life can bend a man's viewpoint.

Prager does run across quite a jumble of characters as he follows the winding trail to find out the whys and whos of the case. One who makes a wavering first impression on the reader but improves with acquaintanceship is Detective Jean Jacques Fuqua. Perhaps the good detective merits a series of stories in his own name. He would make a smashingly good protagonist. Just a thought.   

Hurt Machine transcends the standard P.I. novel. While bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young readers might become impatient with Moe's philosophical ponderings, serious readers will see that this enhances the narrative, taking it a level above.

This is a don't-miss entry in the crime/detective genre. Its release date makes it fine for Christmas giving.

(Thanks to Leyane Jerejian of FSB for the review copy of Hurt Machine.)

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The Sisters Brothers
 by Patrick deWitt, Ecco; Reprint edition (April 26, 2011)

Reviewed by Poker Ben (aka Ben Springer)

I know they say not to judge a book by its cover, but I admit the minute that I saw the cover for the “The Sisters Brothers” I had to read it. There was just something special about it that drew me in. Maybe it was the clever multi-view cover image, or maybe it was the retro color scheme, but what ever it might have been, I’m glad it got my attention because the book didn’t disappoint.

The Sisters brothers Charlie and Eli are killers for hire. They’re sent by their boss, the Commodore, to go from Oregon City to Sacramento, California, to kill gold prospector Hermann Kermit Warm. A simple job, that turns out to be anything but.

The story is sprinkled with a unique and memorable cast of characters throughout, and you never quite know who or what to expect as you turn the pages. From a near fatal spider bite, to a strange night spent with a witch, to the obsession with the newly invented toothbrush and powder.

Patrick deWitt manages to take the classic western novel and turn it into something completely his own, all the while retaining the familiarity of the genre, while keeping the reader glued to the page with his poetic prose.

Whether you’re a fan of westerns or not, definitely seek this novel out. Highly recommended.

(Thanks to Mark Ferguson and Danielle Plafsky of HarperCollins for the review copy of The Sisters Brothers.)

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Nightmare Alley by William Lindsay Gresham, Naxos AudioBooks

Reviewed by Poker Ben 

William Lindsay Gresham’s Nightmare Alley is noir at its finest. Originally published in 1946, this reissued audiobook is a pinnacle of the genre.

Stanton Carlisle wants what most everyone does, fame and fortune. The American dream. He will stop at nothing to achieve it. Working his way up from an amateur sleight-of-hand artist in the traveling Ten-in-one shows, to a successful fake mind-reading act in vaudeville, the more he gets, the more he wants. Together, he and his wife Molly start a ministry where they attract wealthy “marks” for seances to contact loved ones in the afterlife. All Stanton and Molly need is one big score, and they’ll be set for life. But greed is a dangerous thing, and sometimes if you’re not careful the tables can turn on you.

With stark detail Gresham shows the life of a traveling carnival. Every detail of the ups and downs are chronicled, along with characters so real to life that they could jump off the page. Including some of the best dialogue in fiction. You could tell he really knew the subject well, and that shows through in spades. His insight into human psychology, and the vernacular of the times really make this novel powerful.

I listened to this audio version and found the narration by Adam Sims extremely satisfying. He had a different voice for each character’s dialogue, and I found that it enriched the story nicely.

I truly believe this to be one of the best noir novels I’ve ever read (or listened to). It’s a shame the author didn’t write but two novels, but there is also something fitting about that as well. It seems to make this book all the sweeter. Highly recommended.

 (Thanks to Kelly Rach of Naxos Audiobooks the review copy of Nightmare Alley.)

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Noir Journal 46: No Frills Book Review Marathon, Part 2

Here it is, Part 2 of the Marathon, No-Frills (and few links) Book Review Issue.

First, some news:

1. Click to learn about and register for Lou Boxer's NOIRCon 2012 in Philadelphia.

2. Scroll down to the bottom to see an ad for ZOOM STREET's Noir issue.

3. Allan Guthrie, the well known crime/thriller author from Scotland tells us that  TWO-WAY SPLIT, his debut novel, is now available for download from Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.

The novel was originally published by PointBlank Press in the US in 2004, and went on to win the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year in the UK in 2007. This new edition is a Kindle-only publication. 

About TWO-WAY SPLIT:

A lean and muscular crime thriller with a seriously twisted dark side.

Robin Greaves is an armed robber whose professionalism is put to the test when he discovers his wife has been sleeping with a fellow gang member. Robin plans the ultimate revenge, but things go from bad to worse when the gang bungles a post office robbery, leaving carnage in their wake. Suddenly they are stalked by the police, sleazy private eyes, and a cold-blooded killer who may be the only one not looking for a cut of the money…

 

"With razor-sharp characterisation and an evocative sense of place, the novel's pace never relents: the supremely damaged characters that Guthrie conjures up are seldom let off the hook, and stew throughout in their fetid juices. Dark and splendid."  The Guardian

 

"...a memorable and stunning and pitch-perfect debut and one you should grab forthwith. I can't remember a first novel this good in a long, long time." Mystery Scene

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Now get ready for reviews of the following books, again, probably more than you'll want to read in one sitting:

Cowboys,  by Gary Phillips and Brian Hurtt

Toxicity, by Libby Fisher Hellman

Penguin Lost, by Andrey Kurkov

Tough Town Cold City, by Fred Zackel

Tumor, by Joshua Hale Fialkov and Noel Tuazon (previously reviewed by Sam Millar in Noir Journal 45)

The Craigslist Murders  by Brenda Cullerton 

More Beer, by Jakob Arjouni

Long Gone, by Alafair Burke

One for the Money, by Janet Evanovich

Death Notice, by Todd Ritter

 

Cowboys, by Gary Phillips and Brian Hurtt, Vertigo (July 19, 2011)

Once again Noir Journal is honored to post a review by the great Irish crime writer Sam Millar. And congratulations to Sam for having been short-listed for this year's Grand Prix de littérature policière, the most prestigious crime award in France.

Reviewed by Sam Millar

Cowboys begins violently in the swank, Three Penny Restaurant, and continues almost relentlessly to the final denouement. But there is more to Cowboys than simple violence. It tells the story of two cops, one black, one white. Deke Kotto, a black cop, is undercover at the behest of his captain. Kotto’s rules come from his gut instinct rather than any law book. His marriage is on the skids, and he has a disabled son, whom he loves dearly. Tim Brady, the white cop in the story, is the opposite coin: happily married, loves to go bowling, and looks forward to the day he can retire on his pension. Unfortunately, fate is about to spin that coin totally out of control, causing both men to go head-to-head in a shoot-out with fatal consequences in the air, and bringing with it accusations of a race-motive shooting.

Cowboys is an uncomfortable read, and that’s what makes it so damn good. Racism, police brutality and corruption are all tackled head on, giving the reader less ambiguity but plenty of soul searching as each page is turned. Brian Hurtt’s art is perfect with big fat ink drops of noir splattered throughout. It both compliments and enhances Gary Phillips’ gritty bullet-speed story with a determined ferocity. Vertigo are to be commended for bringing these two multi-talented people together, and hopefully we will be seeing more of this team in the future.

 

Toxicity by Libby Fischer Hellman, Amazon Digital Services

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

Wow! Though this "Georgia Davis Prequel" might start out as a chapter-per-sitting read, by the time the second body turns up do NOT begin reading without a cleared schedule. Once the details begin to fall into place, appointments will be skipped, phone calls ignored, family pleas unheard until the final page is turned. It is riveting!

 

The prologue is from the point of view of the killer. It will definitely come back  hauntingly.

Flash to Detective Matt Singer, peaceful and satisfied as he starts his morning after a night with policewoman Georgia Davis.

Shift again to a suburb community of Chicago where Detective Sergeant John Stone is starting his day with a low-key assignment, investigating vandalism at the construction site for a prestigious company. Dog poop was smeared on a sign, a noticeable pile left below it. Stone considers the job a perk after dealing with murder, rape and other mayhem in Chicago.

Now the tale moves to a police procedural pov, with a garbage man discovering the grinder on his truck has jammed on a body from a dumpster behind a high school. Matt; Georgia and her partner, Robby Parker; Jenny Lee, state crime lab tech; and other police personnel are called to the grisly scene.

The victim is Julia Romano, a teacher at the school. Quiet. Sweet. No unkind descriptions of her from the interviewed acquaintances. Her apartment is neat and organized. Even her massive collection of DVDs is alphabetized. Of course, what you see is not always what you get. The only item that seems out of place to Matt is a photograph. Finding a brown envelope on the kitchen counter containing only a five by seven photograph of what appears to be a large, empty field is incongruous. No ID of any kind. It just doesn't fit.

But the big puzzler comes from the pathologist. He can't determine the cause of death. No wounds. No traces of assault. It will take an autopsy. Yet the autopsy doesn't bring clarification either. It's obvious that her organs collapsed, but the cause is nebulous.

Meanwhile, back in the suburb with the construction site - or what will be if the town council permits the project to continue - Stone is gathering details of the conflict between SGF Development (Stuart Feldman) and CEASE (Citizens' Effort Against Senseless Expansion). That's a toxic situation, too.

As more seemingly unrelated crimes are uncovered - Matt's gut instinct tells him all these pieces are part of the same puzzle - the tension escalates.

Because the reader is privy to information the detectives don't have, he/she can see the solution well before the book ends. The suspense - the thrill in thrill-er - is not knowing when it will all fall in place for the police.

In the midst of the crime investigation and the interplay of the police departments involved are complications in the relationship between Matt and Georgia - and a few others. Though it does add texture to the characters, at times there's a wish to just stick to crime - that scenario is convoluted enough. 

Quibbles aside, Toxicity is a great read. Knowing the perp does not decrease the suspense. Libby Fischer Hellman has delivered a top-notch crime thriller.

Footnote: The last time I looked Toxicity was available in Kindle format for only ninety-nine cents. No better bargain around.

 

 

Penguin Lost by Andrey Kurkov, Melville House (June 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

Above all, do not read Andrey Kurkov's Penguin Lost without reading Death and the Penguin first. Even well into the sequel, references to events and characters from Death and the Penguin dot the story. Actually, it's almost as one book issued in two segments.

That said, the sequel doesn't quite live up to the fascinating Death and the Penguin, though it definitely has its moments. It's good but not great. (Spoiler ALERT: It is impossible to discuss Penguin Lost without including spoilers for Death and the Penguin. Stop now! Read Death and the Penguin first.)

 

After Viktor took Misha's place on the arduous journey to Antarctica, guilt set in for abandoning the penguin, Sonya and Nina. He had escaped the death threat - for the time - but now must find a way to get back to Kiev and find Misha.

An interesting facet of these "penguin" books is the frequency with which chances seem to drop into Viktor's lap. The way may be fraught with hardship and peril but the opportunities appear. It is one of these that allows Viktor to leave Antarctica.

So the odyssey begins - and Homer's hero never encountered much stranger circumstances on his journey.

From Antarctica, Viktor re-enters Kiev and attempts to pick up pieces from his past and, at the same time, stay hidden from those who wanted to eliminate him and move on with his life.

A trip to the Veterinary Clinic for a visit with Ilya Semyonovich, the doctor who replaced Misha's bad heart, reveals that two men collected the penguin when the animal had healed and settled the debts.

Viktor's next move is to go to the cemetery to place flowers on the grave of the penguinologist who taught him so much about the species. It is there that chance leads Viktor to Andrey Pavlovich, who will guide his life down a different path but will eventually help him find the penguin's trail.

In a financial upheaval, Misha's ownership was transferred to one Khachayev, who has placed him with the dogs in his kennel in Chechnya. Now Viktor must find a way to get to Chechnya.

Once more, Fate seems to step in and provide the path. Granted the path is grim and locating Misha is not as simple as locating Khachayev - and Khachayev himself is not easy to see in person.

Here the story seems to bog down a bit, though by the final pages every single wearing line has a connection to Misha's - and Viktor's - destiny. Hang in there. It picks up again and is worth it.

 

One of Kurkov's finest talents is his ability to create vivid characters. The assortment of persons who are interwoven into Viktor's life is fascinating. They are varied - from all walks of life - and well-painted. It would be intriguing if Kurkov penned a book of short stories telling the tales of some of these characters.

 

In a step away from my usual reviewing style, a first-person note feels warranted. In reflecting on these books as a unit, it occurred to me that perhaps I had missed something in reading the first one: Viktor is the penguin. Of course, Misha is there and was the one great impetus for me to get my eyes on Penguin Lost. But like the animal penguin Misha, Viktor's life is dictated by others and his surroundings. Much of the time he seems as helpless to control what goes on in it as does Misha.

These books are a prime choice for book discussion groups. I highly recommend them as selections for any thinking book club.

 

Tough Town Cold City by Fred Zackel, (Kindle) Amazon

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

Cold is an operative word in this entry from Fred Zackel.

It's summer in San Francisco but the fog won't lift. It hangs cold and bone-biting, day and night. It practically becomes a character in the story.

Cold fits right in. Tough Town Cold City holds one of the coldest bunch of characters created in detective fiction. No one comes out of this squeaky clean. The closest to it is Frank Pasnow, private investigator and narrator of the tale.

He describes his approach to the scene of the messy shootout that leads to his involvement in the case:

"From all the red, white, and blue flashing lights ricocheting off the houses, trees and faces, there could have been a rave party going on beyond the barriers.  The lights were on in every house on the block, and more neighbors were streaming out of their houses and coming this way.  Still, this was a couple hours before dawn."

 

Captain Thomas Harrison has called Frank to the location in the Projects, shows him Black Pete Staple's dead body - trussed up and shot in the head in the trunk of Pete's own cherry red El Dorado. Black Pete was a mentor to Frank - taught him all the quasi-legal and illegal skills a P.I. might need. Pasnow knows he must do something.

Pete's boy was in the trunk, too, - Dr. Peter Staples, Jr., up and coming medical hotshot. The bullet is his head was not fatal. He's on his way to the hospital.

What was Black Pete mixed up in that got him killed? By whom? The candidates are numerous.

Was it Terry Danvers, his landlord? Not a very nice man, his history with Pasnow goes back to a crisis point in Frank's life. The P.I. would believe him capable of anything.

How about sleazy - but very pricey - lawyer Clay Macondray? Black Pete was doing work for his prestigious firm. No one knows for sure exactly what he was doing.

Clay's partner and former wife, Candace Macondray - "Candy Mac," can't be ruled out. She's out to screw Danvers' daughter Trudy out of everything she might have coming to her - if it can be arranged.

What about Trudy's mother's sister Gwen? She has a strange way of popping up. At the hospital she's young Pete's mentoring nurse, anxious to stay with him, in and out of the institution, to see him back on his feet. She's also whispering suggestions in Trudy's ear about her belief that Terry Danvers killed Trudy's mother.

Frank's old friend and lover Lucy Runyon has become a lawyer hoping for a partnership in Macondray, Macondray and Associates. She seems to be Candy Mac's lackey. Did she know what Black Pete was working on? Was he a threat to her? Her passion is still a threat to Pasnow's libido.

Pasnow also has to consider the site where Black Pete's car was found - in the middle of a shootout in the Projects with not bullet scar one on the car. How did that happen? Is his death linked to drugs or gang conflict as a result of whatever he was working on?

Does the guy with green eyes and many tats - including a blue teardrop at the corner of his eye - come into this? Frank has seen him more than once since this started.

What about the young teenage couple who stared at him so intently when he was in ER with Peter, Jr.?

Can Frank count anyone out of this?

Candy Mac gives him a fair description of the tangled web of relationships - married or otherwise - in the story when she says:

"My marriages are simply another example of the Byzantine network of relationships that have often developed from numerous California marriages between friends and/or enemies."

 

The body count begins to mount and the kinky trail leads Frank not only over the hills of San Francisco but on to the foggy roads of Marin County and the exclusive byways of Tiburon. Shark (the English translation for Tiburon) is suitably named. It describes many of the residents.

The police department there is interesting, too. A slick chief who likes the good life and knows his business with a thick-headed lieutenant to do grunge work.

Pasnow points out the lieut's failings:

" 'You've freaked out the next of kin, and you've insulted and threatened the citizen who called 911, and somewhere along the way you stepped into a puddle of blood at the crime scene.'

Lieutenant Glenn Thorpe looked at his shoes.  In an old Loony Tune cartoon, his head would have abruptly become a lollipop, and a white balloon would have appeared above his head, calling him Sucker-sucker-sucker!  As it was, he just raised his head and looked like himself."

Can anyone not love the images Zackel paints as he tells the story?

 

Tough Town Cold City is a whopping good P.I. novel of the old school, enhanced by Zackel's always vivid prose.

If you don't have a Kindle, download the Kindle app for computer, iPad or iPhone or whatever compatible device you can find. Don't miss this one!

 

Tumor, by Joshua Hale Fialkov and Noel Tuazon, Archaia, Feb. 2010

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs  (Also reviewed in Noir Journal 45 by Sam Millar)

Private detective Frank Armstrong fits the stereotype of the struggling private investigator of crime fiction - with one little exception. He has a brain tumor. It will be fatal. It causes him to switch realities without warning.

Tumor asks the question: "Can he conclude this one last case before the tumor concludes him?"

Armstrong is retired, he says. Sitting at table in a familiar cafe, taking aspirin for his headache, a familiar figure from the past suddenly appears - one he would just as soon not see - Adrian, who comes to take him for a ride - to the boss.

The boss doesn't want to kill Frank. He wants to hire him. His baby girl Evelyn is missing and Gibson figures Frank is just the man for the job of finding his daughter. "No way," Frank says, but changes his mind.

As the tumor presses, Armstrong's "reality" morphs into the past - back to his dead wife Rosa, also estranged from her father - and killed by him.

Now Frank has to decide whether Gibson wants his daughter back to save her or to kill her. Is this deja vu or the tumor affecting his brain?

Evelyn tells the P.I. she stole from her dad. She's trusts him about as far as she can throw him. Yet one of his biggest problems is not finding the truth but separating Evelyn from his lost Rosa as they become interchangeable in his damaged brain. Is he in the present or the past?

Joshua Hale Fialkov's dark tale - short story length had it no art - is harsh and riveting. It gives no quarter - not to the characters, not to the reader.

Noel Tuazon's stark, rough-looking art enhances the plot. His style is perfect for this story. As Frank's perceptions shift between the past and the present, the art immediately shows the change as Frank sees it. The reader's vision becomes as chaotic as Frank's. The first pages bend the mind until one realizes that this mutating disorder is the key part of the story.

Noir fans who have not read the graphic novel format may find Tumor a bit of a challenge but it is well worth the stretch. Try it, you might like it.

 

The Craigslist Murders, by Brenda Cullerton, Melville House (May 17, 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

The mystery in The Craigslist Murders is not "who done it? but "will she get away with it?" This is a serial killer story.

That is not a spoiler - despite the question under the title on the cover - because the murderer is introduced in flagrante delicto in the first scene of the book.

Charlotte is an interior decorator, serving the richest of the richest to make their multiple homes showplaces that any high end decorating magazine would be proud to display.

She loves the colors, the fabulous antique finds, the rare one-of-a-kind treasures. What she hates are the shallow women who hire her. She scorns their purposeless but tightly scheduled lives that focus on themselves and how they appear.

It occurs to her that she has the means to release them from their lives of miserable pretense - a poker to the head will do it every time.

Using Craigslist and an account set up on a public-access computer, she begins her mission.

 

Charlotte is one of a growing number of fictional women who are either pushed toward madness or find incredible inner strength as a result of childhood abuse - generally by a parent - often a mother. Charlotte is the former. It is this inhuman cruelty she experienced in her childhood that makes her the sleek, stylish monster she has become.

 

If stories of rich, mean people and how the world might be purged of them are your cup of tea - glass of wine? - The Craigslist Murders is a book for you. Fans of more traditional dark crime may be happier looking elsewhere.

 

More Beer, Jakob Arjouni, A Kayankaya Thriller,  Jakob Arjouni (Author), Anselm Hollo (Translator)

Reviewed by Steve Anderson

Jakob Arjouni’s tough and nonstop debut from 1987 could have been titled The Fifth Man.

Sure, private detective Kemal Kayankaya does like more beer, but he also can’t help sticking his nose where things stink. In More Beer, four so-called eco-terrorists in West Germany are accused of murdering the head of a Frankfurt chemical company whose products should, in a just world, get it accused of crimes of its own.

 

The four suspects had sabotaged the company’s chemical plant, but they deny murdering anyone. A fifth man was seen at the crime, yet no one in authority seems willing to find him. In a tight spot, the defendants’ lawyer hires Kayankaya to track down the missing fifth suspect.

 

If private detectives are outsiders in fiction, Kayankaya is doubly so. Born in Turkey but raised in West Germany, Kayankaya gets hit with ignorance, cruel insults and outright assault as he chips away at the case no one wants. In the 1960s, West Germany had invited Turks to come help the country rebuild and flourish, but now it doesn’t want to know about Turks in its midst. It even seems to resent them for it. If this was set in America, it would be (in a simplistic analogy) as if our hardboiled detective was black or Mexican and operating in a far less tolerant era.

 

Kayankaya can take the slurs and blows after a lifetime of both. He fires back with a sharp wit, yet it’s not only the dialogue that keeps us following our Turk PI. We aren’t told a lot about him so we learn a lot through how he acts and reacts. He’ll shout and insult back and go to the fist if need be; he’ll wear it on his sleeve but he’ll leave it on yours. To those with wealth, reputation and career to protect even when it’s a stranglehold, Kayankaya appears to be a lazy, uncaring problem child — and a dire threat. Yet he’s the only one who gives a shit, in his way, and he’s willing to keep after the truth.

 

In this translation from Anselm Hollo, few words do a ton of work. This isn’t literary fiction disguised as crime noir. In one passage, Kayankaya fails to address a suspect named Schmidi as “Mister.”

 

Schmidi shoots back: “Mr. Schmidi. I don’t call you rat-Turk.”

 

Kayankaya: “So that’s what you want to get off your chest all this time?”

 

“You better leave while the going is good.”

 

“Yes, I might just give in to the urge to beat the name of that fifth guy out of you.”

 

Some of it may come through as clunky in translation, but it always moves the story along.

 

The eco-terrorism threat is a ruse used by the forces of complacency and corruption, Kayankaya learns. A sad and thorny love scandal holds the real crime. There are shades of Chinatown here, though without the imposing Noah Cross figure. The staid Establishment in the West German state of Hessia fills that role, arrogant and entitled and getting a little jumpy.

 

One passage hits at the futility of the little guy versus ruthless power — Kayankaya’s small-time dealer sidekick, Slibulsky, comments on the real possibility of getting killed for their efforts:

 

“And who would give a fuck? Some little dealer from the railroad station, and a Turkish snooper. That doesn’t even rate a mention on the morning news. They’d just plow us under in a hurry. So you risk your life for something you believe is justice, and end up in the compost heap. What’s justice, anyway? It doesn’t exist, not today, not tomorrow. And you won’t bring it about, either. You’re doing the same scheiss-work as any cop ... you won’t change a thing about the fact that it’s always the same guys who do something, who get caught — not a thing, because the rules are set up that way.”

 

Supporting characters like Slibulsky and the grim Frankfurt settings are superbly drawn, and they deliver details that surprise. Who knew that arsenic was capable of improving one’s beauty in the right doses, even as it’s causing death?

 

I had few complaints. We know little about Kayankaya other than that he was born a Turk but raised by German parents. I wanted to know why and how he’s fallen so low. Usually I don’t need such background in a hardboiled tale, but Kayankaya’s unique background left me wanting to know. Also, the journalist Carla Reedermann seems underdeveloped, disappearing for much of the story. 

 

Kayankaya doesn’t need her help in the end. He makes enough waves on his own, whether it’s in a sea of foul muck or too many liters of beer. 

 

More Beer was a hit in Germany when it came out, and the English translation is now available in the US from Melville House. Arjouni’s other Kayankaya novels include Happy Birthday Turk, Magic Hoffmann and One Man, One Murder, for which he won the German Crime Fiction Award (Deutscher Krimi Preis) in 1992.

 

 

Long Gone, Harper; First Edition edition (June 21, 2011)

 Reviewed by Vicki Wilt of Tucker Seven Editorial Associates, Inc.

The main characters of Alafair Burke’s Long Gone are the family, friends, and enemies of Alice Humphrey, the daughter of a famous movie director. But a character on the fringes of the action quietly but relentlessly steals the show—and readers’ hearts. That character is disgraced FBI agent Hank Beckman.

            After declaring her financial independence from her wealthy father, the womanizing director Frank Humphrey, Alice loses her cushy job at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She finds herself facing the bitter realities of unemployment for the first time in her life, and the streets of New York suddenly seem a whole lot meaner than she ever knew.

            Then a stranger offers her a dream job, managing her own gallery. It seems too good to be true—and it is. Within days, the stranger is murdered, and Alice discovers that she’s been set up to take the fall. NYPD homicide detectives fall for the scam and are days away from arresting Alice.

            The murder is linked somehow to her family’s past, and Alice can’t completely trust anyone—even her own family and friends. So why does she decide to trust the FBI man who has been tailing her? Because Hank Beckman has seen it all before. He failed to save his own sister from a similar scam—and he will not let history repeat itself with Alice.

            Together, this unlikely duo probe secrets that link the downtown galleries of Manhattan, a missing teenage girl from New Jersey, and the not-so-perfect upscale families of Westchester County. To solve this puzzle, they’ll have to put together evidence that stretches from the sexual excesses of the 1980s to the latest developments in cybercrime and stolen identities.

            Alafair Burke brings all these social milieux to life with crackling dialogue and a vivid sense of place. She gives a contemporary spin to the eternal plotlines of the damsel in distress and the privileged family with dangerous secrets from the past.

 

One for the Money, by Janet Evanovich,  St. Martin's Griffin (June 13, 2006) 

Reviewed by Stephanie Campbell

What’s the difference between a crime movie and real life? Apparently, a lot of things. That’s what former lingerie buyer Stephanie Plum discovers in One for the Money by Janet Evanovich.

 

 In this hilarious comedy/mystery novel, Stephanie—who is in the throes of economic turmoil—blackmails her cousin into giving her a bounty hunter position. Unfortunately, when she is handed a case that is way over her head, she is thrown into a world of murderers and drug dealers. She can’t give up, though, lest she wants to lost her apartment and—heaven forbid—be forced to move back in with her parents.

 

She is forced to take bounty hunter lessons from a friend that she meets at her cousin’s bail bonding company. The problem is, after she becomes the target of a murdering boxer named Benito Ramirez, she may not live long enough to show off her new skills.

 

 One for the Money is a good read for anybody with a funny bone. While the jacket flap screams chick lit, this book is anything but that. It has a decent mystery plot line, but Evanovich’s interesting characters and hilarity make the story unique. It is definitely the ultimate bad day book.

 

Death Notice, by Todd Ritter,  Minotaur Books, released Oct. 12, 2010

Review by Jules Brenner

Take a quiet little town (Perry Hollow) that once thrived around the now extinct sawmill; a single-mom police chief (Kat Campbell) to keep the drunks off the highway; and the sudden appearance of a serial killer, and you have the makings of a tense yarn that's going to shake things up like never before.

Of course, serial killer yarns are a dime a dozen, but author Todd Ritter comes up with an intriguing deviation. Every murder is forewarned in a fax that arrives prior to the act taking place. And, when the murder is perpetrated, it's in the style of maniacal invention. The killer sews up his victim's mouth, opens his or her neck and pours formaldehyde down the carotid artery. He's embalming them!

It starts on an unusually busy day for chief Campbell. Just when she's dealing with Jasper Fox, the local florist, reporting his white van missing, she gets a call from Carl, her sole deputy, about a pine box that looks like a coffin, sitting on the side of Old Mill Road. After putting out an APB on the truck, she drives out to the box. In it, she finds the corpse of a local farmer named George Winnick. Two polished pennies sit atop each of his eyes, heads up.

What she has yet to learn is that the killer is playing games with her and the town. A fax announcing the victim and time of death arrives at the office of the Perry Hollow Gazette's obituary writer, Henry Goll, a reclusive man with a facial scar and a tragic history that haunts him.

To read more of this review, go to Jules Brenner's site Critical Mystery Tour.

 

That's it.

We leave you with a plug for Zoom Street's Noir Issue (below).

Take care,

ML

 

 

 

 

 

Noir Journal 45: No Frills Book Review Marathon, Part 1

Welcome to Noir Journal 45. As some of you know, I make my living as a freelance writer. I've been very busy the past few months and a bunch of great reviews have come in. So here's a no-frills, gigantic book review issue of Noir Journal (Part 1). It's a "Work In Progress," and I'll add reviewer information, cover art, correct typos, etc., as I get the time. Meanwhile, read away--probably not all in one sitting. (And thanks to authors, publishers, and publicists for the review copies they've provided.) 

Reviewed below:

Tumor, by Fialkov and Tuazon

Liar's Kiss, by Skillman and Soriano

Lake Charles, by Ed Linskey

Death and the Penguin, by Andrey Kurkov

The Quest for Anna Klein, by TH Cook

Setup on Front Street, by Mike Dennis

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First a couple from Noir Journal's good friend, Irish noir author Sam Millar

Tumor by Joshua Hale Fialkov and Noel Tuazon, Archaia (June 22, 2010)

Reviewed by Sam Millar

Occasionally, a book opens in your hands, and by the time you’ve read the first few pages, you know you’re holding something special. That something special is the critically acclaimed Tumor, from Joshua Hale Fialkov and Noel Tuazon, the Harvey Award-nominated creative team of Elk’s Run.

Tumor was the first graphic novel to make its debut exclusively on Kindle as an ebook, but thankfully it’s now made its way into original book form, beautifully packaged by publisher, Archaia, for which they are to be commended.

 

When Frank Armstrong, an elderly down-on-his luck PI, is sipping java at his neighborhood café, local heavy, Adrian, a harbinger who never brings good news, suddenly joins him. Frank is ‘asked’ by Adrian to journey with him to the Peking Noodle Factory, a run-down factory situated on a side of town where even the dogs wear bulletproof vests. There, he will have a sit down with brutal crime kingpin and nemesis, Gibson Atwater. Fatalistic Frank believes it’s probably a journey with a one-way ticket, and that he is probably being lured to his death: “This is the dead man’s walk. Being lead by a man like Adrian to meet with a man like Gibson in a place like this…”

 

However, to Frank’s relief, Atwater does not want to kill him - at least not yet. He wants Frank to find his missing daughter, Evelyn, who has mysteriously disappeared, possibly with a large chink of her father’s illicit profits to elope with her boyfriend. Ten grand - a small fortune to Frank - is finally agreed to, provided Frank can bring the girl back. For Frank, this new case carries with it a morbid redemption, as he hopes to redeem himself for failing to prevent his wife’s murder, many years ago. Suddenly, things are starting to look rosy in Frank Armstrong’s usually weed-covered garden. Of course, Frank should know better than to believe anything in his life could ever be rosy. And just to prove a point on how sadistic life really is for Frank, the symptoms of a late-stage brain tumor, eating into his gray matter, threaten to spiral his chaotic life into further chaos, causing him to slip in and out of reality from a hospital bed to the hard sidewalks of LA…

 

Tuazon’s depression-style black and white art is perfect for such a gritty story, switching from fine line to gray wash as Frank's foggy perceptive juxtapositions from one extreme to the other. With such a large ensemble of characters and situations, Tumor could very well have turned out to be nothing more than a jumbled disaster. Thankfully, in the skilful hands of Fialkov and Tuazon, this has not happened, and it’s to their credit they have managed such an achievement. With a nod to the classic noir film, D.O.A, Tumor’s own brand of darkness is a master class in sparse, gritty prose, infused with elegiac imagery which should appeal to an even larger audience beyond that of the crime noir genre. Don’t miss it. It’s a classic.

 

Liar’s Kiss, by Erik Skillman and Jhomar Soriano

Review by Sam Millar

Nick Archer is a private eye, but not the old-fashioned noble kind you’re used to seeing in Hollywood movies. He’s a sleazebag of the highest order, telling his rich client, Kincaid, that Abbey his beautiful wife is faithful while in fact she’s fooling around with Nick himself. Then Kincaid gets shot, and Abbey becomes chief suspected. Nick is her alibi, but she wants him to prove someone else did it instead of revealing her infidelity, so she won’t risk losing her dead husband’s money. Only problem being is that Nick has an agenda of his own, and connections to this case that go deeper than anyone realizes. The book’s tagline sums it all up perfectly: The way he investigates is a crime in itself…

 

Liar’s Kiss has all the ingredient of a noir gem: double-crossing liars, murder, sex, money, sex and blood. Did I mention sex? Lots of it. Jhomar’s starkly angled and to-the-bone rendering of characters is perfectly matched with Skillman’s wisecracking and compelling prose. The story itself is full of ambiguity, matched by the characters own bankrupt morality. Neither Archer nor Abbey comes across as likable, but that’s what makes them perfect noir contenders in an unattractive world of murky shadows and dog-eat-dog existence. Think Double Indemnity meets The Big Sleep.

Edgier than a bag full of cutthroat razors, and expertly paced with just the right amount of grittiness to make it authentically real, Liar’s Kiss is noir at its cynical and dangerous best, making it a must-have for any aficionado of the genre. And that’s no lie.

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Lake Charles, by Ed Lynskey, Wildside Press (June 28, 2011)

Review by Poker Ben, AKA Ben Springer

Lake Charles by Ed Lynskey is Appalachian noir at its finest. Set in the backwoods of Tennessee during the late 1970’s, this book has a wonderful vintage feel to it.

 

Brendan Fishback, is a teenager caught in a whirlwind of trouble. After a wild night of partying, that included smoking a ton of weed, Brendan hooked up with a rich girl named Ashleigh. After taking the party to a motel room, Brendan wakes up the next morning to Ashleigh dead beside him. He calls for help, only to be accused of the murder himself.  That’s only part of his trouble.

 

While on bail, Brendan, his sister Edna, and her husband Cobb, decide to spend the weekend at Lake Charles to fish, and jet ski, and mainly forget about Brendan’s troubles. But of course like all the great noir novels, things only get worse.  While out jet skiing alone, Brendan’s sister Edna disappears. The deeper they look for Edna, the more trouble they uncover. The more they dig, the worse things get. Soon Edna’s disappearance doesn’t seem so random, and things seem to tie in with Ashleigh’s death more and more.

 

Ed Lynskey is a fantastic storyteller. From the first page I was sucked into the story. The vintage feel to the novel added a real layer of charm. I really cared for the characters. Though the action is almost nonstop, Lynskey’s prose is poetic, and very addictive. It keeps you flipping through the pages, wanting to know what happens next. This was my first Lynskey, but I will definitely seek out his other works. I’m hoping we might see a sequel. Highly recommended. 

 

 

Death and the Penguin, by Andrey Kurkov, Melville House; Reprint edition (June 7, 2011)  Review by Ann Snuggs Andrey Kurkov's Death and the Penguin, translated by George Bird, is fascinating. Despite the slow-paced, passivity of the story - the structure reflects the life of the protagonist - it is mesmerizing, sucking the reader into the intrigue sans fast-action gun-battles, rapid chases, graphic sex, dead bodies splashing blood or any of the other popular ploys many modern novelists use to keep the pages turning. If any bleak Russian novel might be called delightful, this is it. Not because the tale dances gleefully along, but for its steady, lyrical, introspective development. Like the penguin's owner, readers are swept up by a slow-moving but powerful current from which they are unable to extricate themselves. It is something to savor.   Viktor Alekseyevich Zolotaryov writes. Unfortunately, his writing is not published. He dreams of novels but manages only to turn out short stories - short, short stories, as in one page in length. Viktor's life is barren. Misha, the king penguin, shares his apartment. Misha came from the zoo, claimed by Viktor at a time when the Kiev zoo gave away animals it could no longer afford to feed. Companionship between man and creature is sparse, much of the time they are like the proverbial ships passing in the night. Still, something that breathes is living with him. Viktor is not totally alone in his loneliness. Then comes an offer of work. Viktor left his latest story with an aging assistant editor in the arts department of the Capital News - despite the man's discouraging words - but the callback comes from the office of the editor-in-chief. The editor sends a car, offers Viktor libations and praises his writing. Puzzling? Oh, yes. But even more puzzling is the offered job - writing obits, or obelisks, as the editor calls them. Viktor is confused. His writing so highly praised to sit in an office and wait for people to die? Why would writing style matter? However, that is not what the editor has in mind. He'll be writing obelisks for the living, for prominent people whose lives will deserve more than a standard line or two when they die. Viktor will be creating a file of vivid life stories to be run at the time of death. His one hesitation - these will be written under a pseudonym - for the time, A Group of Friends. Viktor is gladdened by this good fortune. His pay will start at $300 a month and he will work at his own pace. He goes home to celebrate but has no vodka. At least he can treat Misha to a splash in the bathtub. Despite his lack of recognition, Viktor's life soon seems to be going well. The work is easy and enjoyable. The money is more than enough for his needs. Fyodor in the crime section of the Capital News is providing him with information on his subjects so that he doesn't have to do so much research. Misha feeds on higher grade fish and is even affectionate at times. Misha is splashing in a cold bath one night when the phone rings. The voice utilizes the editor-in-chief's name to request a meeting. The caller's name is Misha - non-penguin, of course. He requests a special obelisk for a friend. Viktor will be well-paid. The chief has no objection. Viktor takes the assignment. Misha-non-penguin is pleased with the work. He will order more. Now Viktor's work is appearing regularly. When he writes the obelisks assigned by the chief, people die and his work is published. Then the chief decides Viktor should make a trip to Kharkov to collect information. Sounds good but what about Misha? The penguin would be content to stay alone but . . . . Remembering an old joke about a militiaman and a penguin he calls the district militiaman, one Sergey Fischbein-Stepanenko, who agrees to check on Misha during his absence. Sergey becomes a friend. Misha-non-penguin leaves his young daughter Sonya in Viktor's care when he must leave. Sergey's niece Nina is hired to take care of Sonya. Viktor locates a dying penguinologist in his quest to learn more about Misha and becomes involved in that man's final days. Yet, despite the myriad of new connections, there is a lack of emotion in these relationships. Death and the Penguin unfolds gradually, layer by layer, as Viktor is caught in a web of conspiracy. It has the aura of classic Russian literature. Readers will be enthralled by the bleak matter-of-fact tale of a morass of conspiracy and death. The very lack of passion is captivating.   On this site, from time to time, comments on what makes noir NOIR appear. This story lacks almost every element of the classic tenets of noir but its aura sets the door ajar for inclusion. Yet, while the story is dark, an undercurrent of dry humor flows through it.   It's hard to imagine any thoughtful reader who would not find something to appreciate in Death and the Penguin. It's a must-read for those who love good books of any classification.   Footnote on reading in translation: A translator must have a well-written, finely crafted story to turn out a readable narration. However, a talented writer also desperately needs a skilled translator to maintain the quality of his work in its conversion to a non-native tongue. Hats off! Not only to Kurkov for this off-beat portrayal of a man - and his penguin - caught in a web of intrigue but also to George Bird for his lyrical transference of Russian to English. Kudos all 'round.     FYI: The sequel to Death and the Penguin, Penguin Lost, will be released in September. May it be the same top-notch quality as the first penguin tale.   The Quest for Anna Klein by Thomas H Cook, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; (June 21, 2011)   Reviewed by Steve Anderson   Thomas Danforth has a lot to get off his chest, and he tells it to Paul Crane. As The Quest for Anna Klein begins, it’s 2001 in New York City — in the aftermath of 9/11. Crane, a young researcher, wants to take harsh vengeance on America’s enemies. The elderly Danforth can relate. He’s spent much of his ninety-plus years seeking his own brand of vengeance.   Danforth’s tale begins in 1939. He had traveled the world with his wealthy father and the young man now runs the family’s import business. He’s just the type to be recruited to provide cover for a fledgling American intelligence operation that will lead to the attempted assassination of a menacing tyrant named Adolf Hitler.   Danforth figures to stand squarely with the good guys, but the real world of espionage seems beyond him until he meets a secretive and beautiful young spy-in-training, Anna Klein. The mystery of Anna lures Danforth to break from his pampered life and join her on the dangerous mission within Germany to kill Hitler. It’s a thrilling time for Danforth, alone with the girl he believes will give him a more dangerous but fulfilling love and life. Then the attempt fails horribly and Danforth must flee, leaving Anna behind. She disappears, possibly into the dungeon of a Gestapo prison.   Danforth must find her. Throughout the war and beyond he embarks on a rabid and marathon quest that costs him nearly all. Anna might have been a double or even triple agent, he learns, and his pursuit takes him to postwar Europe and points East, a grim survey of the tragedies of twentieth-century Europe. In the Soviet Union he’s arrested and sent to a gulag for twelve years.   As more cruel questions confront Danforth, his search descends into an obsession with extracting vengeance at all costs. People have betrayed him. Could Anna have been at the heart of it all?   The best espionage and mystery novels are not about spies and plots and murders but about conflicted souls and the sorry truths they discover about the human condition. Quest offers fine glimpses of that, though the story may stall some readers looking for a fast-paced spy tale. The narrative framed with Crane creates many switches in time, the first third can be slow going as Danforth sets up his story, and it carries waves of foreboding and foreshadowing.    Sticking with Danforth will reward the reader. The last third moves faster and approaches the quality of espionage masters Le Carré, Furst and McCarry, yet with a profound style all its own. Author Thomas H. Cook knows when it’s time to unleash the raw story. He gives you no choice but to follow Danforth as he hurtles on through dark times that threaten to make him far from a savior and just another hopeless victim.   This is Cook’s first go at an espionage novel. It seems a unique angle for a spy story to have Danforth plow onward like a dogged and self-appointed detective, but it’s not unfamiliar territory for Cook, who has had a long and successful career writing crime and mystery novels. Cook received an Edgar award for his 1996 novel The Chatham School Affair. Six of his novels have been nominated for awards, including Red Leaves in 2006.   The way the story’s told might split some opinions, but few can deny the novel’s thoughtful and compelling lesson about vengeance.     SETUP ON FRONT STREET, by Mike Dennis  (May 9, 2011) Review by M. C. Pastoret   Meet Don Roy Doyle. He’s a 40 year-old Conch—a Key West native—“big and bullnecked… never the slim, honey-voiced guy with the right clothes or the slick red car… always the anonymous, faceless bouncer type…. The thing is, I’m probably a lot smarter than most of those red convertible-type guys.”  Good with numbers and odds, and “weeding out the bullshit artists from the heavy hitters is no problem for me.” A life on the grift ultimately put him in the joint after his biggest con went sour, a diamond swindle with a major payday. He took the fall for his partner and spent three years in a Nevada prison. And now he’s out, ready to collect his score at last, back home in his beloved Key West.   Word gets out that he’s back, and that homecoming feeling doesn’t last long. He meets his partner, Sully, owner of the Keys’ hottest Irish bar and finds his payday laundered and tied up in “investments.” He runs into a cop named Ortega who’s got a decade-old grudge and would love nothing better than to violate Doyle’s parole and send him back to prison.   And then there’s Norma. “She wasn’t what you’d call a knockout. Hell, I guess you’d say she wasn’t even that good-looking,” but inside “she glowed like a warm summer sunset,” and “her smile was just the biggest and brightest thing I’d ever seen.”  She’s the only woman who ever gave him a second look before he left the Keys for the West. Now he finds she’s turning tricks to pay the gambling debts of the corrupt mayor, BK—“Boy King”—son of the Keys’ ruling patriarch, Wilson J. Whitney. And Daddy doesn’t like Doyle interfering.   Worse is to come: couple days later, Sully turns up dead, the money vanishes, and Doyle’s been set up to take the fall. Ortega’s hungry to buy the setup. Whitney decides that Norma will pay for Doyle’s “disrespect.” And an eager FBI agent named Ryder turns up, wanting to know what Doyle can tell him about Whitney’s link to nothing less than the Russian mob. Even Ryder’s got a plan to make Doyle pay if he can’t get what he needs from him.   If timing is everything, then Doyle’s couldn’t be worse. It’s spring of 1991; the collapse of the Soviet Union has left a sucking vacuum in Cuba that’s pulling every atom of greed and ambition out of Key West in its direction. Everyone is waiting for The Beard to kick off, and everywhere Doyle turns, he sees the shadow of Wilson Whitney and the Russian mob. And each scheme he uncovers seems guaranteed to cost Doyle his freedom—or his life.   Doyle can’t—won’t—lose his freedom. “There’s nothing colder than prison concrete. The dark desolation…the tense friction. Hardened men scraping up against each other all the time. … Makes you think sometimes that you’re no better than any of those fucking animals in there.” Somehow he’s come out with a code of ethics, never spoken, just lived. His talk about prison life is brutal and full of ugly racial slurs, but he doesn’t care what skin you’re in if you do good work and keep the faith. He doesn’t mind breaking your fingers or slamming your head against a car door—if you deserve it, if you try to shank him, if that’s what it takes to protect Norma. But it’s all in the deserving. “We’re not murderers,” he tells his friend Shimmy; “we don’t do that shit.”   He does need help to beat the setup, and finds it in some old friends like Shimmy, his wheel man, and the wonderful Dr. Chicago, a Class A crib man. Some new friends, too—like Rita, BK’s underestimated, neglected wife: “Her smile was wicked, full of everything a woman was about.” Now that he’s back, she wouldn’t mind having Doyle wrapped around her finger (or her waist), but she wants something even more—a crack at taking her father-in-law down. Even Ryder, the FBI agent, becomes more of an ally than a threat. They’re all up against Whitney, patriarch in the John Huston mold whose got Key West under his thumb; his goons, Milton and Bradley (you’ve got to love those names); and the Russian thug Vasiliev.   As good as these characters are, the one we want more of in this story is Key West itself—the noir streets the tourists never see. Some of the most redolent scenes take place in Mambo’s, Doyle’s Old Town hangout: “Most of its small clientele usually operated on the wrong side of the law…. Because (Mambo) kept all the right palms greased, he did good business. The food was by far the tastiest Cuban fare in all of the keys, but we were the only ones who could get it. Citizen customers were discouraged from entering.” It’s at Mambo’s we learn that Cuba’s future has long since been mapped out by the Cubans themselves, giving Doyle what he needs to at least even up the odds against him. Mambo is a DeLima, and for a century and a half, “their interests penetrated into every segment of Key West life.” Not a bad family to know if you’re in Doyle’s guayabara. More time in Mambo’s would have been a treat. (If you can read about the picadillo and the yellow rice without wanting it right now, you are made of sterner stuff than I.)   Credit author Mike Dennis with no small achievement: he has taken a man to be reckoned with and a moment in time and turned these into a satisfying work of noir fiction. His writing is tight, to the point, like a line drawing; but he can throw in a scene to give depth and shading, even sensuality, as in the memory Doyle has of his mother cooling her neck with a cold glass of iced tea, breathing a moment of ease in her hard life with a low moan.   Dennis promises two more noir novels set in Key West. Judging by Setup on Front Street, we’ve got good stuff to look forward to.

 

Noir Journal 44: Book Giveaway, Spillane, Guthrie, and More

Noir Journal 44

1. Book Giveaway Contest: Before I Go to Sleep,  S. J. Watson

2. Allan Guthrie's Two-Way Split now on Kindle

3. Book Review: Kiss Her Goodbye, Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins

4. Book Review: Untouchable, Scott O'Connor

5. U.K. Author Leigh Russell (Cut Short, Road Closed, Dead End) and the Amazon Top 100

 

Book Giveaway: Before I Go to Sleep 

by S. J.Watson (HarperCollins, June 2011)

Noir Journal is giving away three free copies of an excellent new book--Before I Go to Sleep, by S. J. Watson. Just go to the Facebook page for Before I Go to Sleep and click "Like."  Then e-mail noir_journal@yahoo.com with the book's title in the subject line.

Three winners will be selected based on blindly picking Scrabble tiles in a way that every entrant has an equal chance to win.

I've read the book myself and pretty much agree with all the excellent reviews it has received.

The first half of Before I Go to Sleep follows Christine Lucas as she painfully tries to piece together her life--although each morning as she awakens, she can't remember anything, not just from the previous day, but from the past two decades.

The second half of the book is filled with heart-stopping surprises. That's when this piercing psychological study turns into a true mystery. Just when you think you've figured out what's going on, you get smacked across the head with a chilling new discovery.

Thanks to Mark Ferguson at HarperCollins for the advance review copy as well as the three contest copies. Here's some of HarperCollins's info about Before I Go to Sleep.   

Before I Go to Sleep S. J. Watson makes his powerful debut with this compelling, fast-paced psychological thriller, reminiscent of Shutter Island and Memento. Following a mysterious accident, Christine cannot remember her past or form new memories.  In place of memories, Christine has a journal in which she’s been meticulously recording her daily events.  But as the pages accumulate, inconsistencies begin to emerge, raising disturbing questions that Christine is determined to find answers to. And the more she pieces together the shards of her broken life, the closer she gets to the truth . . . and the more terrifying and deadly it is.

“Based upon a deceptively simple premise, Watson’s debut novel unwinds as a story that is both complicated and compellingly hypnotic. . . Watson writes in the first person, from the perspective of a woman, and the voice is surprisingly spot-on. The angst is unimaginable but palpable…Watson’s pitch–perfect writing propels the story to a frenzied climax that will haunt readers long after they’ve closed the cover on this remarkable book.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

Click to read more about Before I Go to Sleep. 

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TWO-WAY SPLIT by Allan Guthrie Now Available on Kindle 

TWO-WAY SPLIT, Guthrie's debut novel is now available for download from Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com. The novel was originally published by PointBlank Press in the US in 2004, and went on to win the Theakston's Crime Novel of the Year in the UK in 2007. 

TWO-WAY SPLIT, was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger award. Allan Guthrie is the author of four other novels: KISS HER GOODBYE (nominated for an Edgar), HARD MAN, SAVAGE NIGHT and SLAMMER and three novellas: KILL CLOCK , KILLING MUM and BYE BYE BABY, a Top Ten Kindle Bestseller. When he's not writing, he's a literary agent with Jenny Brown Associates and runs the ebook crime fiction blog, Criminal-E.

 

About TWO-WAY SPLIT: 

Robin Greaves is an armed robber whose professionalism is put to the test when he discovers his wife has been sleeping with a fellow gang member. Robin plans the ultimate revenge, but things go from bad to worse when the gang bungles a post office robbery, leaving carnage in their wake. Suddenly they are stalked by the police, sleazy private eyes, and a cold-blooded killer who may be the only one not looking for a cut of the money…

"With razor-sharp characterisation and an evocative sense of place, the novel's pace never relents: the supremely damaged characters that Guthrie conjures up are seldom let off the hook, and stew throughout in their fetid juices. Dark and splendid."  --The Guardian

"...a memorable and stunning and pitch-perfect debut and one you should grab forthwith. I can't remember a first novel this good in a long, long time." --Mystery Scene  

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Book Review:

Kiss Her Goodbye by Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

(Thanks to Michelle Bonanno from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for the review copy.)

Mike Hammer is back in the city. Many thought he was dead after the blazing shootout that put him in the hospital, critically wounded. But he slipped away from police protection and New York. He cut all ties, even to Velda.

For a year he's been healing and lying low in sunny Florida, determined to leave the city of his birth and his rough-and-tumble life there behind forever.

It was a simple phone call - a surprise, but not a shock, to hear the voice of old friend Pat Chambers on the line - that summoned him back. Even the strongest resolutions can't deny the call of death.

Mike's old friend and mentor, Bill Doolan, is dead. A suicide.

What?! Not Doolan.

The cancer was bad, Pat tells him. Doolan had become an old man. The pain would become unbearable, the docs said. It's hard for me to accept it, too, but that's the way it reads.

There's a plane out at three. Hammer, of course, will be on it but the trip to New York will only take a few days. He can't wait to get back to the sun and the sea and his new life. The city has nothing left for him. But, just in case, he throws his gun into the suitcase at the last minute.

Just as Chambers knew he would, Mike insists on examining Doolan's apartment. He can tell the police have gone the extra mile to confirm the verdict of suicide but Hammer knows his old friend unequivocally repudiated the concept of taking his own life. He has to admit Pat has examined every facet of the shooting, but Mike can't let it ride. He has checked and double-checked Doolan's place when it hits him. It's subtle, but the incongruity that proves murder finally penetrates Hammer's brain.

The bodies start to pile up as Mike's investigation into the last year of Doolan's life takes him back to his old haunts and some new ones. The old retired cop wasn't as retired as many of his cronies thought. Drugs and mobsters and even a stash of uncut gems from the days of Nazi Germany weave through Hammer's search for the crafty killer.

Old friends and enemies pop up along Mike's path. Some are pleased to see him alive; others wish he had stayed "dead." The P.I. with whom Doolan shared office space sees Hammer as all washed up.

    "Ah, I can read you like a book," he told me, waving me away like a wino begging him for a buck. "It was all over you the other day, like a sick bad smell. And you know I'm right."

    "You were right."

    "What do you mean?"

    I opened the jacket and I showed him the .45 in the sling. Then I showed him my teeth and let him see my eyes.

    "Shit," he said. He swallowed. "Sorry. I, uh, should have given you a closer look, Mike. You are back."

Mike finds a few new dames, too. Big and beautiful they may be but none can compare to Velda. Her aura remains, though the story he hears is that she found a new man and left the city.

Whatever or whoever gets in his way will be thrust aside. It's not going to be a short trip. This world of deception and violence is where Mike Hammer belongs - right along with his reading public.

In the coauthor's note, Max Allan Collins quotes Spillane's instructions to his wife before his death:

"When I'm gone, there's going to be a treasure hunt around here. Take everything you find and give it to Max - he'll know what to do."

Spillane was as accurate as Mike Hammer's .45. Collins does know exactly what to do with the notes, rough drafts and pieces of Hammer stories he inherited.

Spillane was often scorned by critics but adored by his devoted readers who loved the vivid, garish prose he used to bring Hammer and his other protagonists to life. And that is the right phrase - "to LIFE." Collins knows how to keep Spillane's tone, the essence of the characters, the pace, the grit, the vividness. He has the gift of popping the characters and settings from the pages into a virtual reality for the reader. It's rich. It's detailed. It's alive.

    "At nine p.m., West Fifty-fourth between Broadway and Eighth Avenue was an artery clogged enough to give Manhattan a heart attack. The taxis slightly outnumbered the brave, foolish souls with their own wheels, and it was so hopeless, even the horn-honk symphony seemed half-hearted."

Analysts who want to spend the time examining word-for-word each phrase of Kiss Her Goodbye may find a few un-Spillane-isms. But faithful Hammer fans will just be glad to have Mike Hammer back on the streets - tough and unyielding as ever.

If there is one little cavil about Kiss Her Goodbye, it's the final chapter. For long-time Spillane readers there's an overwhelming feeling of deja vu. It would have worked as well - or maybe better - had it ended ahead of the final confrontation.

Quibbles aside, it a terrific read - a must for followers of Mike Hammer.

Max Allan Collins deserves kudos for keeping the hard-boiled P.I. alive and true to himself. As Mike himself says, when denying that age could change the old cop Doolan enough to turn him to suicide:

"I was older. . . . But I was still Mike Hammer."

Amen to that.

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Book Review: 
Untouchable by Scott O'Connor (Tyrus Books, 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs 

(Thanks to Leyane Jerejian, Senior Publicist at FSB,  for the review copy. For more info and reviews of Untouchable, go to Tyrus Books.)

David Darby's job description would be enough to push anyone to the brink of mental instability. He cleans up the gore at crime scenes and suicides. Swathed in mask, goggles, protective body suit and gloves, he and his fellow technicians erase every trace of the horror left behind in places where life unnaturally departed the body.

    In addition to the grisly details of his work, Darby has his own devils chasing him. His wife died the year before, leaving him mourning, trying to understand her death and also attempting to cope with their son, Whitley, a sixth-grade misfit, who has refused to speak since his mother's passing. He communicates by writing in notebooks. Everyone knows him as The Kid.

    Untouchable begins by dropping the reader into the grim world of Darby's work life, but this is The Kid's story. It is The Kid - tormented by class bullies, trapped in mental anguish by his belief that his mother is not dead but has left him because the ugly gibes of his classmates are true - who drives this story of damaged lives.

    The Kid struggles through the abuse, the often-frustrating Covenant he made not to speak until his mother returns and the steadily growing irrationality of his father to show a dogged resilience that makes the reader applaud his efforts.

    The Kid may not be one of the superheroes he so admires but he is a tough little human being. Were it not so graphic in places, one might wonder if Untouchable was originally intended as a young adult entry. 

    Untouchable is a sad but true-to-life tale. Bullying in the schools is rampant, especially against square pegs like The Kid. Children do interpret events - such as sudden death - with their own spin. The grisly aftermath at scenes of crimes and suicides does require the skills of cleaners who must develop strategies to keep themselves sane as they scrub up human muck day after day. Young mothers do die, leaving their families in crisis.

    All that said, this story would have been greatly improved had it been a little less story - less length would have made it more effective.

    There comes a point when the next bullying episode or spiraling of Darby closer to insanity becomes repetitive rather than adding depth.

    The basic premise for Untouchable is intriguing. Scott O'Connor has a good touch for descriptive prose. The initial images of Darby’s work situation are mesmerizing. However, the story could have used some tightening and a strong edit to make this intriguing novel sharper and more effective.

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News from U.K. author Leigh Russell:

U.K. mystery author Leigh Russell's new novel Dead End has just hit the Top 100 (number 79) on Amazon in the U.K. Her second novel, Road Closed, reached the Top 100 on Amazon in Germany last week. Russell's goal now: "that one of my books made its way into the Top 100 in the U. S. on Amazon!"

Russell's three gripping psychological thrillers, all featuring Detective Inspector Geraldine Steel, are Cut Short, Road Closed, and Dead End.

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All for now; much more to come,

ML

 

Noir Journal 43: Amnesia, Murder, Political Intrigue, Infidelity . . .

 

I've been told that 1,000 words is the limit most people will read on the Internet in one sitting. And I've read (in THE SHALLOWS: WHAT THE INTERNET IS DOING TO OUR BRAINS, by Nicholas Carr) that flitting around the Internet is causing readers to lose focus and concentration. Well, let me apologize ahead of time; this is a long post. Read it all, read it in sections, or just read the parts that interest you.

First, a review of a book recently announced in Noir Journal. Thanks to Chicago publicist Dana Kaye for the review copy. I read the book and enjoyed it immensely. This review, however, is by Jules Brenner. Jules runs the site Critical Mystery Tour, and we've been working together recently.  

The Two Deaths of Daniel Hayes by Marcus Sakey  (Dutton , June 2011)

Why am I so wet? And deathly cold? What am I doing in the surf? So thinks a man who has lost all memory as he arises, naked and barely alive, in the shallow waters of a Maine beach with nothing in sight except a silver BMW up on the parking lot. With great difficulty, he drags himself to the car, his single thought being to find warmth. Then... he will deal with who he is, exactly.

 The similarity of this to the opening of Robert Ludlum's "The Bourne Identity" (the greatest amnesia thriller I've ever read) can't be avoided, but author Sakey's psychological drama rides a different wave into an entirely different universe from its own uniquely turbulent past. As a central theme, however, the amnesia angle does set up a challenge. Sakey must shake the reader loose from the suspicion that the memory loss here is, in any way, imitative.

That doesn't happen in the first few pages, but as you read you get the distinct feeling that you're in a carefully outlined piece of work. That's not a detriment nor a bad thing. With considerable precision and deep insight, the plotline proceeds in a flawless construction  . . .

To read more of this review, go to Critical Mystery Tour.

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And a note I received from the reviewer really tells a lot about the next book, Keys to the Kingdom, by Senator Bob Graham: 

Here is a short review of the Graham book - only about half my normal length. I feel like it's almost a blurb but there are so many twists and turns and complications I'm afraid if I tried to explain, it would be a spoiler.

Keys to the Kingdom, by Senator Bob Graham (Vanguard Press, June 2011)

Reviewed by Ann Snuggs

The words "A Novel of Suspense" grace the cover of Bob Graham's new novel, Keys to the Kingdom. That's no idle boast. Many books are labeled "suspense" but this one delivers - in spades.

    Former Special Forces op Tony Ramos now works at a desk job at the State Department. His area of specialization is Afghanistan.

    Former U.S. Senator John Billington uses his retirement time to speak out on his beliefs on the error of taking troops from Afghanistan to fight a war in Iraq and the unanswered questions concerning the 9/11 terrorist attack. The result of his most recent commentary referring to the unknown role of the Saudis in 9/11 and the security of nuclear weapons is murder - his own.

    Billington had felt the danger and left a packet of information and leads for Ramos in case of his death. He trusted Tony to do the right thing.

    Tony's loyalty to and faith in Billington propel him into a maelstrom of cover-ups, danger and international intrigue.

    Older political thrillers dealt with international affairs relating to nation-states - with subterfuge, double agents and deception aimed at furthering the interests of the countries involved. Throwing in the terrorist wildcard - joker, maybe? - adds a new dimension. Players without a national territory to protect are not stayed from using WMDs by fear of destruction of their lands. They have nothing to lose.

    Graham uses his background in world affairs to spin a twisted, tortuous tale of terrorism and duplicity that reaches the highest echelons of the United States government. Who can Ramos trust? 

    It's difficult to say much about this gripping, scarily plausible plot without spoiling the tension for other readers. However, it is fair to give a little advice.

    First, be careful in becoming attached to any of the characters. This story doesn't work like a series entry. Some may be lost along the way.

    Furthermore, don't start Keys to the Kingdom at bedtime - at least, not without planning to read until dawn.

    Frightening. Credible. Disturbing. Engrossing. Pick a word. Any word. This tale of suspense is a great read.

(Thanks to Ruby Mansuri from FSB Associates for the review copy of this next book. Sen Graham pictured above.)

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Now regular Noir Journal reviewer Poker Ben (Ben Springer) checks in with two books from one of our favorite publishers, Jon Bassoff's New Pulp Press. (Of these two books, I've read The Bastard Hand and think it's one of the best noir novels in recent years. Lowrance artfully crafts not just characters, but dark archetypes from deep in the human subconscious.)

Two by New Pulp

Reviews by Poker Ben 

New Pulp Press has quickly become my go-to publisher for top notch neo-noir pulp fiction. Since 2008 they have been putting out great books from emerging authors who I’m sure will become household names in the near future.  Though New Pulp Press is getting bigger everyday, they still have an underground vibe to them, one that makes you feel like you’ve found something really special each time you pick up one of their titles. Raw, and uncensored, they’re not afraid to push the boundaries when it comes to telling a great story.

 

One of those such novels is The Science Of Paul by Aaron Philip Clark (January 2011)

Recently out of prison, Paul Little wants nothing more then to put his past behind him and live the rest of his life on the farm his deceased grandfather left him in North Carolina.

But old habits die hard and for Paul, having a woman that loves him and and a great opportunity at the straight life, well, that just doesn’t sit well with him. He purposely ruins his relationship with his girlfriend Tammy and goes right back to the gritty streets of Philadelphia, to the same places that got him sent to prison in the first place.

Whether it's bad luck, or just nasty fate, things never seem to go in Paul’s favor. He’s offered a job of delivering a package. It’s quick, easy money so he accepts. Instead of delivering the package himself, he pawns the job off to a young wannabe gangster. When that gangster is found dead the next day, it’s up to Paul to figure things out. But trouble lurks wherever he goes, and Paul has to keep digging himself into a bottomless pit of trouble, all the while trying to keep himself from either winding up back behind bars, or worse yet, dead.

This is a great, moody character study of a man who’s trying to change his ways when it seems the world is out to get him. He must battle his own self inside to even begin to battle the problems he’s faced with on the outside.

The backdrop of Philadelphia really comes alive in the hands of Clark, and the richly painted city becomes a supporting role in the novel.

For this being Clark’s first novel, I can’t wait to see what he does next. Highly recommended.

 

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Another great novel from New Pulp is The Bastard Hand by Heath Lowrance (March 2011)

Charlie Wesley is not a normal guy. He talks to his dead brother and his hands sometimes have a yellow glow to them. That’s just for starters.

Drifting his way from Washington state towards Florida (he's escaped from a mental institution), Charlie Wesley manages to make it as far as Memphis, Tennessee.  Once in Memphis after being nearly stabbed to death during a mugging, he finds that the stab wound that should have killed him begins to instantly start to heal.

While at a laundry mat waiting for his clothes to finish up, Charlie finds a Bible with a hole through the center of it. After reading through it, he meets a Reverend Phineas Childe.  Reverend Childe is not your model Reverend by any means. He’s a heavy drinker and womanizer. The two hit it off really quick, and having nothing better to do, Charlie agrees to follow Reverend Childe to Cuba Landing, Mississippi, where he will be the Reverend’s assistant at the church he’s taking over.

Once Charlie and the Reverend get to Cuba Landing, things start to get really interesting. What seems to be a quaint little town on the surface, really starts to crumble upon closer inspection.  Charlie suspects Reverend Childe has a hidden agenda for the town that is  full of secrets. Friendships are put to the test, and a crooked politician is blackmailing Charlie, who is caught right in the middle of it all.

Heath Lowrance has really created something special with this novel. You’re never quite sure who to root for. Each character has many sides that keep the reader wavering. Good vs evil, heaven and hell, right and wrong, these are themes you’re forced to question throughout.

Lowrance manages to pull all of this off with a master’s touch, even though this is his first novel. I see nothing but huge success for him in the very near future. He will no doubt become a household name.

Do yourself a favor and pick up this, and any other title from New Pulp Press that you can get your hands on. You’ll be glad you did.

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Now, to finish up, a review in our "Crime Writers Reading Crime Fiction" series. Reviewer and author K. J. McCall, worked for the Department of Health and Human Services for fourteen years, and has written Set Apart, a thriller set against the backdrop of a newly established health care system. Available at Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com and other outlets.

Here's McCall's review of a tale of infidelity--not exactly a mystery, but written by Evan Hunter (pictured below, real name Salvatore Lombino), best known for his crime fiction written under the famous pseudonym Ed McBain.

Strangers When We Meet  by Evan Hunter  (1958)

Review by K.J. McCall

 

This study of infidelity was written in the 1950s, about the 1950s, when hard-cover books sold for $3.95 and a nice split-level house could be had for seventeen thousand. It is clearly a different time. There’s no concern for STDs, no thoughts of lung cancer from smoking, and people climb into cars after several martinis with no apparent fear of accidents or DUIs.

In Pinecrest Manor, just a train ride from New York City, residents are already bored with the peace and prosperity of the post World War II era. Enslaved by the clock and the routine of the work week, they are rescued on weekends by only a different routine. Stuck in predictable marriages, restless men look at bored housewives as potential bedfellows. Everywhere, attractive eyes extend open invitations. It seems the next war to be fought will be the one against discontent.

At the center are Eve and Larry Cole, in their early thirties with two small sons. Larry is an architect who won a prize a few years back and had high hopes. But now a need for further success gnaws at him, and he’s embarrassed by the architectural falseness of his own neighborhood. Things look up when he’s hired to design a house for successful novelist, Roger Altar, who can afford to foot the bill for an abode any architect would celebrate. The unmarried Altar has the freedom of taking a different live-in lover each week, yet the health of his self-image appears to be in the hands of the literary critics.

Margaret and Don Gault live down the street. Margaret is one of the beautiful people everyone stares at. She is sexually unfulfilled at home, that point is clear. And for some reason she avoids forming close bonds with anyone. The relationship she has with her husband is a mystery. She loathes the smell of his clothes as she straightens the bedroom in the morning, yet she boldly initiates sexual encounters at night. Don has obvious hang-ups. To him it’s wrong for a wife to be sexy, so Margaret’s forwardness makes him uneasy. He wears a locket with a picture of his mother. And clearly, he has low self-esteem. Reason enough is given for this: He’s a foreman in a factory and feels inadequate because he didn’t go to college. Yet there’s a hint of another cause, too, having something to do with his time in the war.

When Larry becomes interested in Margaret he arranges a first meeting at a shopping center. Though the meeting itself is harmless, Larry knows it could lead to a dangerous affair. But he does it anyway. The meeting requires him to lie to his wife and he feels guilty about it. But he does it anyway. More lies are necessary as the affair develops, quickly growing into layers of lies that must be tended to and remembered, but he learns to justify the lies by thinking of them as protection for Eve.

Also in the neighborhood are Felix and Betty Anders. Felix has Betty convinced he is a devout Catholic who has eyes only for her. In truth he is an expert philanderer hiding behind a facade of ultra-morality. According to Felix a woman sees her husband as an unshaven slob standing in his pajamas at the bathroom sink, but the same man can be a hero if he goes next door. Marriage is a “practical joke perpetrated on young lovers,” turning every man into a philanderer, every woman into a potential mistress.

Felix, being an expert, quickly spots Larry’s affair with Margaret and becomes a sort of mentor, warning Larry not to go on too long with the same woman or she’ll just turn out to be another wife. While guarding Larry’s interest though, Felix at the same time dwells on how attractive Eve is and wonders whether a man who is playing around with someone else’s wife has the right to get offended if somebody plays around with his.

All the men in Hunter’s world seem forever dissatisfied with themselves, struggling to attain self-imposed goals set a decade before. When Altar gets rave reviews on his third book, he’s happy only for a few minutes before realizing the reviews aren’t enough. What he really needs, he decides, is a wife who’ll love him and fix him scrambled eggs.

Larry is offered another job (an architect’s dream) but he must move to Puerto Rico to take it. Everything he thought he ever wanted is within his grasp – fame, fortune, respect. But by now, Margaret has become the main focus of his life; he wonders how he ever lived without her. Thus he’s up against the inevitable consequence of every affair – the dilemma of having to choose. At the eleventh hour he is still vacillating, knowing he’ll be unhappy either way. He remains indecisive to the last, until it’s too late and the chance to choose is no longer his.

Evan Hunter was known to be an explorer of the human psyche, and there’s certainly enough going on here to intrigue Sigmund Freud. Yet I was puzzled by some of it. I never did figure out for instance why Margaret seduced her husband while seeming to despise him. Were the characters really so complex, or were they simply inconsistent?

There are sex scenes. Indeed, the absence of sex scenes would be odd in a book about infidelity. If anyone is looking for hardcore they won’t find it here, but if a reader believes as I do that the imagination is mightier than the pen, he’ll find these subtle, almost lyrical, scenes more sensuous than graphic ones.

For the most part the dialogue is snappy and interesting. But the characters answer too many questions with questions, and they make deep statements promising further insight never quite delivered.

There are promises of intellectual depth, too, regarding why the characters are the way they are. Yet when the reasons are revealed it’s a bit of a letdown. When I found out Margaret’s fear of bonding stemmed from the painful childhood results of her mother’s infidelity, I thought, Is that all? And when I learned that Don’s haunting war experience was his killing of a Japanese officer, again I thought, Is that all? These things, sensational enough for the 1950s, are not enough for today, at least not for me apparently. And the fact that I have evolved to the point of needing something more tragic, more depraved, is a sadder revelation to me than anything here.

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The end. Of a long post.

More to come before long, including reviews of Joshua Hale Fialkov's graphic noir novel, Tumor; Kiss Her Goodbye, by Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins; Lake Charles, by Ed Lynskey; the audiobook of William Lindsay Gresham's classic Nightmare Alley, and more. 

And click to read my review of an extremely cool and original book, Claire DeWitt and the City of the Dead, by Sara Gran, in the New York Journal of Books.

That's it for now,

ML