One Man's Opinion: STATION ELEVEN by EMILY ST. JOHN MANDEL

 

‘She’d once met an old man up near Kindardine who’d sworn that the murdered follow their killers to the grave, and she was thinking of this as they walked, the idea of dragging souls across the landscape like cans on a string.’

I’ve been watching a lot of ER recently. Last week I experienced for the second time the death of Dr Mark Greene. I was reminded just how powerful the scenes are and how nicely handled it all is. Clever writing and great production.

As Mark does his best to come to terms with his impending death, he is also struggling with his relationship with his daughter. When considering the final piece of advice to pass on before he leaves, he settles on ‘be generous’. It’s a beautiful moment and a profound offering.

That has all been floating around with me for a while and was certainly at the back of my mind while I read the most wonderful novel, Station Eleven. It’s a work about a world-changing pandemic written way before our 2020 experiences that takes us through the build up to the event its consequences.

There’s so much to love and I will not come close to doing it justice in my own reflections.

The opening is breath-taking. On stage is King Lear, played by Arthur Leander, who is about to have a heart attack and die. He’s at the centre of a web of characters through which the story will be told. There’s Jeevan, a would-be paramedic who leaps upon the stage in an attempt to save his life; Kirsten, a young girl who appears in the play and whose mother hopes has a great future in acting; Clark, Arthur’s oldest friend; Miranda, his ex-wife and the creator of the comic of the title; and Tyler his only child.

After failing in his attempt to save Arthur, Jeevan learns of the dangers of the Georgia flu. He’s ahead of the game in this respect and does what most people seem to do in worrying situations – panic buy and seek out those who are most important. The whole episode is utterly compelling, the tension ever-present, the need to know where the story will take them all-consuming.

From there we flash backwards and forwards in unexpected ways. For a while, I was disappointed it didn’t go in the direction I’d hoped, but I soon realised that what I wanted from this book, and perhaps any novel, was being provided for in spades and that I just had to trust Emily St John Mandel with her vision.

I’m not greatly informed when it comes to post-apocalyptic or dystopian fiction. Even so, I’ve tried to write a bit of it and was pleased with my efforts. This, however, does what all good work does and steps out of the genres to encompass everything.

The world of the post-Georgia flu is created in ways that it’s easy to imagine. What’s makes it stand out so strongly is the journey of each of the characters. We get to know their history, but more importantly to me, grow to understand the ways in which they come to terms with their own mortality. A pandemic is good for one thing and that’s forcing people to reflect upon what is important. The characters in this novel leave trails for us to follow as we contemplate our own pasts, presents, futures and demise.

I have a whole list of things I want to focus on now that I’ve finished. It’s the kind of story that will have you asking and answering questions throughout. Much as I’d like to list some of my conclusions, I think that would be foolish. Read the book for yourself and make decisions of your own. The one I feel it is okay to share is the rekindled desire to read great fiction – life really is too short to spend too much time with the chaff.

Station Eleven has a little bit of everything. Profundity. Poetry. Surrealism. Tension. Heartbreak. Joy. Hope. Humour. Violence. Tenderness. You name it, I’m sure it’s in there. Not that these things make it dry. This story is alive. The characters are vivid. Their journeys are immense and I’m glad I sat along with each of them for the ride, no matter how turbulent each was.

Aces all round for this. My favourite read in quite some time.

One Man's Opinion: LIGHTNING by ED McBAIN

 

When lightning strikes, I imagine it hurts. A lot. It certainly does in this novel by Ed McBain.

Here we have two main cases running through the book as the detectives of the 87^th Precinct have their hands full.

Across the city, the bodies of young female athletes are being hung from lampposts and a repeat rapist is terrorising a set of chose individuals with his constant returns. The overall impression that I was left with following the read was that I had been much more involved with the victims of this story than many others, feeling their pain and anguish much more readily than I might normally. There’s no gallows humour to cover the sadness that comes along with the destruction of young lives and the nature of the power imbalances weighs heavily.

As the story unfolds, all of those involved have an uneasy feeling that the Deaf Man is behind the hangings – who else would taunt and probe the detectives in this way? There’s a fabulous set of scenes where each of the cops imagines the Deaf Man’s involvement, which also give us another, as always, appreciated window into their personal lives.

Among the chaos of the crimes, we spend time with more of the women of the precinct. Annie Rawles is a beautiful tough nut who works with the rape squad. She also happens to be sleeping with Cotton Hawes. Eileen Burke is a decoy from special forces and she is sleeping with Kling. They’re heavily involved and it’s the experience of their case from their perspectives that adds a huge amount of emotional power and tension to Lightning.

Other than the main events, there are some fantastic sub-plots to keep a reader entertained. Meyer is experimenting with a wig and the reception is mixed. There’s also a reappearance for the always repugnant Ollie Weeks to stir the pot while helping to progress the case. Best of all, there’s a glimpse into Teddy Carella’s life. She’s thinking about getting back into work after years of being a stay-at-home mother. For someone of her intelligence and experience, that should be no problem; unfortunately the world isn’t that straightforward and this cameo throws petrol onto misogynistic flames that have been flickering from the off.

It really is a cracker and could easily have been told as two separate stories, but the fact that they are woven together adds power to the whole, two excellent plots coming together to form a giant.

One Man's Opinion: WHERE THE BONES LIE by NICK KOLAKOWSKI

I was really pleased to get an ARC of Where The Bones Lie by Nick Kolakowski. It's a story that will be familiar to many a fan of vintage noir, more specifically to the Private Eye of the Hollywood variety. It shares many of the tropes that might be expected in the genre and manages to provide hommage to what has gone before while carving out something fresh and new. 

Dash Fuller is falling flat on the comedy circuit while attempting to create a new and clean life for himself, when up pops an old acquaintance. Manny is a high-end lowlife fixer who will sort out the complications of studios and those involved in the celebrity industry if they're prepared to pay him enough. 

Dash is flat broke and is in no position to say no. In spite of his better judgement, he sets out in search of a couple of big players who have disappeared off the radar to carry on their bizarre lifestyle. 

Almost in parallel to this, a young woman is desperate to find out what happened to her father, a shady dude who disappeared many years earlier and whose body has recently been found in a lake after the water level dropped significanlty. She enlists Dash's help and off they go to try and unlock the skeletons from their closet. 

The cases allow us an insight into a fascinating world that provides a great backdrop against which the book unfolds. 

The good news is that it's a tense and fun read that will entertain anyone who likes a complex PI story where layers are stripped off painfully until all that's left are the bare bones of the truth. 

The better news, at least in my opinion, is that there may well be more to come. It definitely feels like a series opener and I think that it's likely that the next tale will be even stronger and richer - Dash Fuller is someone who is deep and will take some getting to know and I have a sense that the more of him that is revealed, the more we're going to want to stick around.

Go check it out. 
 

One Man's Opinion: A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE by ARTHUR MILLER

 

It seemed apt to pick this from my shelves this week, what with the return of Donald Trump to the White House. All that negative talk about immigration and questions regarding the right to become a citizen if born to in the States is rather depressing. I wish I could see a positive side to all of this; I think that the only thing I can find is that I'm far away from it, something I'm jolly grateful for. 

The United States, that melting pot of the world's cultures, seems to have a patchy record when it comes to who is allowed to visit/live or not. Clearly the 1950s Miller writes about here was another period where the arrival for those seeking a new life without permission was a very big deal. 

Eddie Carbone works down at the waterfront in Red Hook. He's a simple man who works hard and takes advantage of the benefits of unloading cargo from on occasion. He lives in a small apartment with his wife and his neice, a young girl who is quickly turning into a woman. We see from early on that Eddie's relationship with his neice, Catherine, is odd. While wanting to control the women in his life, she's able to get away with things if she plays her cards right and if her aunt pulls some strings. 

Catherine's already on the verge of moving out from the family setting. She's been offered a job a little way from their home and is keen to leave school to take it. Eddie is struggling with the idea that she might grow away from them and puts his foot down hard. 

Entering the picture are two of his wife's cousins, Maro and Rodolpho. They enter the country illegaly from Italy, Marco to support his family and Rodolpho to start a new life. They  bring with them a strong sense of pride and in their traditional values as well as a host of problems for Eddie. Putting up illegal immigrants is a crime in terms of the law, grassing up those who have the courage to house them is a crime in terms of the community. 

It's not a spoiler to say that it's all going to unravel in an unpleasant way. Eddie's lawyer offers a narration that offers a sense of foreboding. The two brothers rock the boat more that it can stand and the world of the Carbone family is clearly going to sink fast unless someone can intervene. 

It's incredible to me that such an intricate and gripping tale can be told in this short a space of time. Stage directions and acting notes make everything vividly clear, but the dialogue constanlty accelerates to plot to it's next stages. 

A View From The Bridge is a really good read. I've never seen it on the stage, but if it comes to town I'll be at the head of the queue for tickets. 

One Man's Opinion: IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK by JAMES BALDWIN

 

I love it when a novel really ramps up the emotions. If Beale Street Could Talk does that in so many different ways. It's constantly nipping away at your insides as you read, then takes out huge chunks with bites that will no doubt leave permanent scars (or at least I hope they do, given the stories told). 

This one pulls in so many different ways. And it doesn't pull its punches. 

Fonny and Tish are young lovers. Early on, we discover that Tish is pregnant with Fonny's child and that Fonny is currently behind bars, charged with the rape of a woman in the neighbourhood. Much as the struggle to get Fonny out of prison is the core of the plot, the stories that emanate from that centre are diverse:we get to examine both sets of families and their reactions to what is going on; we find out about how the couple got together in the first place and how the baby is conceived; we discover things about the community, warts and all; and we get to observe friendships and social tensions. No matter which way the slice is cut, there are overriding pressures that influence everything. The racism is intense, visceral and overpowering, the surges against it almost futile (there's something in the fight that reminded me of Ellison's Invisible Man, a reference that tells you that I need to read more widely). There's religious bigotry and digs at religious fundamentalism. It has homophobia and sexism. Institutionalised prejudice takes a kicking and economic exploitation is clearly on display. Also included is domestic violence, doled out by heavy-handed men on their wives. And all of this is important, for it's only by drawing attention to each of these facets that thinking can be done and changes made, for this is very much a book about rising up against oppression and injustice wherever it may be found.  

I thoroughly enjoyed this one, though it wasn't all plain sailing. There's a real mix of time and place and it occasionally took me a moment to readjust and work out where I was. The tenses and voice occasionally stumbled, perhaps because they were trying to run too fast at times. There are also a lot of commas and that sometimes got in the way. That being said, I always found the groove again, partly because I was so driven to get to whereever it was going. 

If Beale Street Could Talk has the passion of the best love stories, the tension of the finest crime dramas and all the anger and turbulence that it needs. 

Definitely one to get your hands on and digest. Quality stuff.

One Man's Opinion: HEAT by ED McBAIN

 

I started to read a different book last week and barely made it through the first chapter. I'm not going to mention what it was, but can say that there were several blurbs heaping high praise on the work telling me that it was the best crime fiction of the year and that kind of thing. It really wasn't. It may be that the authors really believed that it was of very high quality, but I find it difficult to believe, so please oh important writers, don't just say nice things about a book because it's your mate or because it's published by one of your stable mates - that kind of thing is happening far too often. 

After that let down, Heat was an utter triumph. It's not perfect, but the bulk of it is gripping, tense and gets the grey matter working. 

It's formed of four parts though, in truth, there need only be three. 

Strand one is the main case of the day, the apparent suicide where the fact that the central heating has been loft off during a heatwave makes Carella suspicious. It's a Columboesque situation where the niggle grows even though the available evidence suggests all is plain sailing. The delay of various pieces of information is a tad contrived, but keeps us and the detectives on tiptoes. 

More engaging that strand one is strand two. Kling, between his shifts, is working his own investigation, that of a possible case of infidelity by his beautiful wife. He does try to take Carella's advice about how to deal with the situation, but in the end he is unable to react in a calm and sensible way. This one rolls nicely through to the end and is work the book price all on its own. 

Strand three, an ex con seeks revenge on Kling and buys the mother of all handguns to blow him away. The guy's a racist thug whose line of thinking should remind us all that the world can and needs to be be a better place. 

Strand four, I have no idea about. The rest of the squad are planning a drugs bust. There's a lot of huffing and puffing, but it just gets in the way. Thankfully, this doesn't take up much time, so it's not all bad news, but it puts a spanner into a read which would otherwise be superb. 

Heat is right up there for me in the 87th series, in spite of that drugs bust nonsense. A real nail-biter that accelerates all the way to the end and left me breathless. 

Great work. 

One Man's Opinion: THE HORSE by WILLY VLAUTIN

 

If you've followed my book thoughts over the years, you'll know that Willy Vlautin is among my absolute favourites. His stories have turned me inside out and he has the power to squeeze a tidal wave of emotion from only a few words and observations. 

Like I've done with his last few novels, I left this to one side until a time that I either felt I needed it or at a point when I was beginning a story of my own in the hope that something might rub off on me. And here I am, recently finished the last page and wondering what to make of it all.

The reviews have been tremendous and there's a hatful of quotes on the book in the promotion and online. It's also been lauded by lots of authors I like and respect, so it's clearly a work of significant merit. The thing is, I'm not quite in line with those folk. It's true that I enjoyed many things here and that there were spells where I was totally involved, yet I don't think I got as much from it or was as compelled to keep reading when compared to any of his others. 

I wonder if my response to the novel relates to the structure. The Horse tells the life story of Al Ward, visiting sections of his time on Earth while he frets about the horse he has found near his home, a beast that appears to be on its last legs and, not unlike Al himself, seems to have given up on living. Some of the episodes are long and detailed, other are fleeting. There's definitely a sense that everyone has an extraordinary journey in life and a that there's a need for all of us to understand that a life lived will involve struggle somewhere along the way. The characters Al recalls experience difficulties with drink, drugs, self-doubt, money, love, depression, the law and general misfortune. Many are creative people and their drive to become successful or to manage to get by doing what they love sometimes keeps them going and sometimes trips them into their inevitable demise. 

Al is clearly a nice guy. Everyone thinks so. There's something special about him. Perhaps it's the natural tendency to give others the time of day that does it, or the sadness that comes across in the songs he writes, but he's good to hang around with as a friend, in a band or as a reader. 

What I wasn't so sure of was the melodramatic element of the story. There were times when I felt I was being set up for a fall. I don't mind that so much and it happens to me frequenlty, but not so much in Vlautin's work. 

And the ending is something worthy of discussion, though that's problematic in that I don't want to spoil things for anyone. I know that there were many readers out there who were absolutely gutted by the denoument of the wonderful Don't Skip Out On Me and that it took me a while to recover after I read that one. The Horse has a very different vibe to it, a finale that I wasn't expecting and found oddly unsatisfying. Maybe it's just me. 

Overall, I'd definitely recommend you read this. More importantly, if you're new to Willy Vlautin, you should absolutely give it a go. It is, in fact, a very good place to start. The poetic prose and emotional turbulence will make you want to take other journeys with him and (in my opinion) if you do, you'll only find greener pastures.