A Plague of Secrets opens with a tragic accident. San Francisco police Lieutenant Abe Glitsky's three year old son is hit by a car and sustains a serious head injury. Abe's good friend, defense lawyer Dismas Hardy and his wife step in to help care for Abe and Treya's other child. The book is not about the accident, but its cause and its aftermath inform Glitsky's actions throughout the novel, and probably will continue to do so beyond its pages as well.
What the book is about is a murder trial. When the manager of a popular local coffee spot is found murdered in the alley behind the shop--backpack full of marijuana still slung across his shoulders--all kinds of things come out. Dylan Vogler, who's been managing Bay Beans West since it opened nearly a decade earlier--pulls in an extremely generous annual salary of $90,000. He also runs a thriving pot business, complete with detailed database of customers (ranging from local neighborhood types to lawyers to mid-level San Francisco politicians), out of the coffee shop.
Did the owner of the coffee shop, Maya Townshend, know about her manager's side business? Had he been blackmailing her for years about something completely unrelated? Did Maya murder Dylan Vogler and another college friend of theirs as well?
Although Dismas Hardy--Diz--has no qualms about defending a guilty client (after all, we're all guilty of something), what he's most interested in is the truth. There are several related story lines, each pointing to a different person as the perpetrator, but the truth does out, in a scene of spectacular courtroom mayhem.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
A BONE TO PICK by CHARLAINE HARRIS
A Bone to Pick is the second Aurora Teagarden mystery. Although Roe, her friends, and fellow Lawrenceton, Georgia denizens continue to grow as characters, her sleuthing abilities remain strictly passive in this installment.
As the story begins Roe learns that she has been bequeathed the not insignificant estate of Jane Engle, a recently deceased member of the now-defunct Real Murders true crime club. In addition to inheriting Jane's bank account, Roe has also come into possession of a small house, a mean cat, and a skull in the window seat.
Although Roe's curiosity about whose skull it is and why it's in Jane's window seat is boundless, her investigative skills, once again, sit firmly in the right-place-at-the-right-time arena. Once again, however, that's all right. The neighbors are quirky, in some cases to the point of near-insanity, establishing the series firmly, if mildly, as Southern Gothic.
As the story begins Roe learns that she has been bequeathed the not insignificant estate of Jane Engle, a recently deceased member of the now-defunct Real Murders true crime club. In addition to inheriting Jane's bank account, Roe has also come into possession of a small house, a mean cat, and a skull in the window seat.
Although Roe's curiosity about whose skull it is and why it's in Jane's window seat is boundless, her investigative skills, once again, sit firmly in the right-place-at-the-right-time arena. Once again, however, that's all right. The neighbors are quirky, in some cases to the point of near-insanity, establishing the series firmly, if mildly, as Southern Gothic.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
THE MAGICIANS by LEV GROSSMAN
What if the Harry Potter series didn't start until the kids were ready to head off for college? What if the kid who went temporarily to the dark side in the Narnia series became truly and irrevocably evil, and stayed that way? What if the kids in both of these series swore like sailors, drank like fish, and fucked like bunnies?
Why, then you'd have The Magicians , the latest from Time magazine book critic Lev Grossman. Quentin Coldwater, our hero, is pretty much a genius. He's in his final year at a high school in New York for intellectually superior kids, and as we meet him he's on his way to an interview with a representative from Princeton University. The man he's supposed to meet with is dead, so the interview never happens, but a mysterious and lovely paramedic gives him a package with his name on it. Faster than you can say abracadabra Quentin is down the rabbit hole, or, more specifically, through a portal in a wintry New York alley that leads to summery Brakesbill College for Magical Pedagogy.
Needless to say, his life changes in an instant. He studies magical theory and learns to harness and hone his own power. He is taken under the wing of urbane and sophisticated older students, who teach him about wine, fine dining, and the nicer points of ennui.
After college Q and his friends live an aimless life of partying and hangovers, occasionally wondering when it's all going to start for real...when it does, they get more than they bargained for. The Narnia-like fantasy world they all grew up reading about is real, and it's not a very happy place.
There is a quest. There are deaths, both mundane and magical. And in the end, Q must make a choice.
The Magicians is an intriguing new entry in the ever-growing canon of urban fantasy. Lev Grossman writes with a deft hand, and obviously knows and loves his source materials (well enough to mess with your mind, if you know them, too).
Recommended, a good summer read.
Why, then you'd have The Magicians , the latest from Time magazine book critic Lev Grossman. Quentin Coldwater, our hero, is pretty much a genius. He's in his final year at a high school in New York for intellectually superior kids, and as we meet him he's on his way to an interview with a representative from Princeton University. The man he's supposed to meet with is dead, so the interview never happens, but a mysterious and lovely paramedic gives him a package with his name on it. Faster than you can say abracadabra Quentin is down the rabbit hole, or, more specifically, through a portal in a wintry New York alley that leads to summery Brakesbill College for Magical Pedagogy.
Needless to say, his life changes in an instant. He studies magical theory and learns to harness and hone his own power. He is taken under the wing of urbane and sophisticated older students, who teach him about wine, fine dining, and the nicer points of ennui.
After college Q and his friends live an aimless life of partying and hangovers, occasionally wondering when it's all going to start for real...when it does, they get more than they bargained for. The Narnia-like fantasy world they all grew up reading about is real, and it's not a very happy place.
There is a quest. There are deaths, both mundane and magical. And in the end, Q must make a choice.
The Magicians is an intriguing new entry in the ever-growing canon of urban fantasy. Lev Grossman writes with a deft hand, and obviously knows and loves his source materials (well enough to mess with your mind, if you know them, too).
Recommended, a good summer read.
DOWN IN THE ZERO by ANDREW VACCHS
The trouble with hardboiled fiction is that it's so ripe for parody. Even at its best this style of writing is so very unselfconscious, so glaringly stripped down--yeah, I know the all the words, it seems to be saying, but I'm so tough I only need to use a few of them. Sometimes that works. Chandler. Cain. Hammett. The guys who invented the genre and worked in its first generation.
And the trouble with neo-hardboiled fiction is that layered on top of that lurking urge to parody is our contemporary age's blasted worship of all things meta, our adoration of all things self-referential. There are certainly some who rise above; Walter Mosley writes in a beautiful contemporary hardboiled style, one all his own which doesn't eschew real vocabulary and rich description, and which doesn't wink at the reader. Andrew Vachss, I have just learned, can make that same claim.
Most of Vachss crime novels center on Burke--just the one name--an ex-con, unlicensed private investigator, career criminal, Child of the Secret. ("Children of the Secret" is a term coined by Vachss,who has been active in both child and animal protection; they are abused children [and erstwhile children] who have been victimized but never experienced justice.) Burke has put together a family of these people--and dogs--and he protects them more ferociously than he protects himself.
Down in the Zero finds Burke called out to the suburbs of Connecticut by Randy, the son of a woman he had known briefly many years before. The boy--a feckless nineteen year old--is terrified by a rash of suicides among his peers; he thinks that the deaths were only made to look like suicides, and that he may be a future target. Burke, who looks into the Zero (the abyss, the blackness on the other side, the nothingness of non-existence) on a regular basis feels the boy's pain and fear more than he wants to admit, so he agrees to help him out.
During the course of his investigation Burke unearths some really nasty little secrets not very well buried beneath the veneer of genteel respectability for which Connecticut suburbs are so well known. He meets a pair of dominatrix sisters, learns that there is a highly specialized sex club in this small town, and discovers a blackmail ring.
Yowza.
Burke also--using nothing more than his own ability to be himself and to cut through the shit--helps Randy start to narrow in on some meaning in life, and to become an actual person. Randy even gets a new name, in a passage of male-bonding so beautiful I cried. "'We give you a name, mahn,' Clarence said, caught up in the idea. 'Like a baptism.'....That night didn't have a chance against the kid's smile." Oh, and the name is Sonny, because there "ain't but two names for the outlaw game...It's Junior. Or Sonny."
The plot is extremely intricate, with several seemingly unrelated threads: an awful lot is packed into a mere 259 pages. Vachss's writing is a revelation; he keeps his stripped down style well on the right side of that parody line, and if he's being meta about anything, well, this reader certainly didn't pick up on it. His prose is choppy and blunt; Vachss is a big fan of the ellipsis and the dash, and he uses them to great effect.
At the time of the publication of Down in the Zero, 1994, Andrew Vachss already had more than a half dozen novels under his belt. I hadn't read any of them and now, fifteen years later, I've only just read Down in the Zero. I won't wait fifteen years before picking up more of his books, though.
And the trouble with neo-hardboiled fiction is that layered on top of that lurking urge to parody is our contemporary age's blasted worship of all things meta, our adoration of all things self-referential. There are certainly some who rise above; Walter Mosley writes in a beautiful contemporary hardboiled style, one all his own which doesn't eschew real vocabulary and rich description, and which doesn't wink at the reader. Andrew Vachss, I have just learned, can make that same claim.
Most of Vachss crime novels center on Burke--just the one name--an ex-con, unlicensed private investigator, career criminal, Child of the Secret. ("Children of the Secret" is a term coined by Vachss,who has been active in both child and animal protection; they are abused children [and erstwhile children] who have been victimized but never experienced justice.) Burke has put together a family of these people--and dogs--and he protects them more ferociously than he protects himself.
Down in the Zero finds Burke called out to the suburbs of Connecticut by Randy, the son of a woman he had known briefly many years before. The boy--a feckless nineteen year old--is terrified by a rash of suicides among his peers; he thinks that the deaths were only made to look like suicides, and that he may be a future target. Burke, who looks into the Zero (the abyss, the blackness on the other side, the nothingness of non-existence) on a regular basis feels the boy's pain and fear more than he wants to admit, so he agrees to help him out.
During the course of his investigation Burke unearths some really nasty little secrets not very well buried beneath the veneer of genteel respectability for which Connecticut suburbs are so well known. He meets a pair of dominatrix sisters, learns that there is a highly specialized sex club in this small town, and discovers a blackmail ring.
Yowza.
Burke also--using nothing more than his own ability to be himself and to cut through the shit--helps Randy start to narrow in on some meaning in life, and to become an actual person. Randy even gets a new name, in a passage of male-bonding so beautiful I cried. "'We give you a name, mahn,' Clarence said, caught up in the idea. 'Like a baptism.'....That night didn't have a chance against the kid's smile." Oh, and the name is Sonny, because there "ain't but two names for the outlaw game...It's Junior. Or Sonny."
The plot is extremely intricate, with several seemingly unrelated threads: an awful lot is packed into a mere 259 pages. Vachss's writing is a revelation; he keeps his stripped down style well on the right side of that parody line, and if he's being meta about anything, well, this reader certainly didn't pick up on it. His prose is choppy and blunt; Vachss is a big fan of the ellipsis and the dash, and he uses them to great effect.
At the time of the publication of Down in the Zero, 1994, Andrew Vachss already had more than a half dozen novels under his belt. I hadn't read any of them and now, fifteen years later, I've only just read Down in the Zero. I won't wait fifteen years before picking up more of his books, though.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
THE FOURTH WATCHER by TIMOTHY HALLINAN
I have traveled extensively, kind of. Via books I have been to Paris, Buenos Aires, Sicily, St. Petersberg, both Beijing and Peking, London, Cairo; well, the list could go on and on. But by far the most exotic locale I've ever visited in all of my reading is Bangkok.
Poke Rafferty is an American travel writer who has been enchanted and seduced by the exoticism of Bangkok. His fiance, Rose, is a former go-go girl (yes, that's a euphemism) who now runs a small business hiring out former working girls as domestics. Their adopted daughter, Miaow, is a street-smart urchin who came to them from unspeakable--but hardly unusual, in this city--circumstances.
As The Fourth Watcher begins, the three of them are living a blissfully normal existence--going to school, to a respectable job, writing a new book, enjoying being safe and clean and well-fed--when the bad shit starts to rain down on them.
An American Secret Service Agent appears at their door, along with several of Bangkok's finest. He's investigating an international counterfeit ring, and has set his sights on Poke's family because Rose had the misfortune to withdraw cash for her business's weekly payroll from a bank whose corrupt teller passed her bad bills.
Then Poke's long-lost father appears in town, and it's not just because he wants to make contact with his only son. He's being chased by the very nasty leader of a Chinese triad, from whom he has taken something extremely valuable.
What else can go wrong? Poke has a sister, Ming Li, who's their father's right hand. His friends are being taken down one by one. And he has no choice but to involve those he holds most dear in the mess that has become his life.
Hallinan writes a taut and exciting thriller. There are several subplots which come together in a most satisfactory manner. But the most satisfying aspect of The Fourth Watcher is its characters. They are brilliant--smart, flawed, often damaged; so human, so real. And Bangkok, corrupt, dirty, enticing, is the most seductive character of all. Poke Rafferty will never leave Bangkok, and with luck Timothy Hallinan will allow us to check in on him and his family from time to time.
Poke Rafferty is an American travel writer who has been enchanted and seduced by the exoticism of Bangkok. His fiance, Rose, is a former go-go girl (yes, that's a euphemism) who now runs a small business hiring out former working girls as domestics. Their adopted daughter, Miaow, is a street-smart urchin who came to them from unspeakable--but hardly unusual, in this city--circumstances.
As The Fourth Watcher begins, the three of them are living a blissfully normal existence--going to school, to a respectable job, writing a new book, enjoying being safe and clean and well-fed--when the bad shit starts to rain down on them.
An American Secret Service Agent appears at their door, along with several of Bangkok's finest. He's investigating an international counterfeit ring, and has set his sights on Poke's family because Rose had the misfortune to withdraw cash for her business's weekly payroll from a bank whose corrupt teller passed her bad bills.
Then Poke's long-lost father appears in town, and it's not just because he wants to make contact with his only son. He's being chased by the very nasty leader of a Chinese triad, from whom he has taken something extremely valuable.
What else can go wrong? Poke has a sister, Ming Li, who's their father's right hand. His friends are being taken down one by one. And he has no choice but to involve those he holds most dear in the mess that has become his life.
Hallinan writes a taut and exciting thriller. There are several subplots which come together in a most satisfactory manner. But the most satisfying aspect of The Fourth Watcher is its characters. They are brilliant--smart, flawed, often damaged; so human, so real. And Bangkok, corrupt, dirty, enticing, is the most seductive character of all. Poke Rafferty will never leave Bangkok, and with luck Timothy Hallinan will allow us to check in on him and his family from time to time.
A FOOL AND HIS HONEY by CHARLAINE HARRIS
Aurora Teagarden wants a baby, but has recently learned that she can't have one. She and husband Martin haven't really discussed any alternatives, but being surrounded by friends with new babies and friends who are preganant isn't helping her ambivalence.
So how ironic is it that Martin's somewhat ne'er-do-well niece Regina should show up unannounced on their doorstep with a baby nobody knew she had? And how exponentially is that irony increased when Regina goes missing the next day, leaving the baby behind? And how much harder is it to selflessly take care of a baby when he's not yours, his mother has disappeared, and his father has been murdered with an axe to the head in your driveway?
Martin, strong and silent as usual, and with a potential health issue that he has mentioned but not elaborated upon, insists that they set out for his hometown in Ohio to try to solve this mystery. Roe's character is tested--and sometimes found lacking--by the trials she's forced to undergo in A Fool and His Honey, but in the end, as always, she's strong and brave and loyal.
So how ironic is it that Martin's somewhat ne'er-do-well niece Regina should show up unannounced on their doorstep with a baby nobody knew she had? And how exponentially is that irony increased when Regina goes missing the next day, leaving the baby behind? And how much harder is it to selflessly take care of a baby when he's not yours, his mother has disappeared, and his father has been murdered with an axe to the head in your driveway?
Martin, strong and silent as usual, and with a potential health issue that he has mentioned but not elaborated upon, insists that they set out for his hometown in Ohio to try to solve this mystery. Roe's character is tested--and sometimes found lacking--by the trials she's forced to undergo in A Fool and His Honey, but in the end, as always, she's strong and brave and loyal.
DEAD OVER HEELS by CHARLAINE HARRIS
Dead Over Heels opens with a bang. Or perhaps splat would be a more accurate description of the sound of a man's body falling from an airplane onto a lawn. The man, Lawrenceton police detective Jack Burns is thoroughly and grotesquely dead but really, why do things like this always happen to poor little Aurora Teagarden?
The arrival of Detective Burns on her front lawn is just the first in a series of weird and often violent events that dog Roe's footsteps with increasing and disturbing frequency. But how, and why, would a ribbon turning up around mean cat Madeleine's neck, a library coworker's brutal beating, the arrival of a gorgeous flower arrangement from an anonymous admirer, and the stabbing of former boyfriend Arthur Smith be related to the gruesome death of Jack Burns? And what the hell do all of these things have to do with Roe?
As always, Charlaine Harris produces a compulsively readable, beautifully detailed mystery, full of quirky characters and Southern charm.
The arrival of Detective Burns on her front lawn is just the first in a series of weird and often violent events that dog Roe's footsteps with increasing and disturbing frequency. But how, and why, would a ribbon turning up around mean cat Madeleine's neck, a library coworker's brutal beating, the arrival of a gorgeous flower arrangement from an anonymous admirer, and the stabbing of former boyfriend Arthur Smith be related to the gruesome death of Jack Burns? And what the hell do all of these things have to do with Roe?
As always, Charlaine Harris produces a compulsively readable, beautifully detailed mystery, full of quirky characters and Southern charm.
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