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. 

 

One Man's Opinion: ALICE IN JEOPARDY by ED McBAIN

 'There is nothing like early retirement to make a person feel dead.'

After 35 years of teaching, I finally stepped away from the profession at the end of October. It's an odd feeling and I'm still coming to terms with new routines and all of the empty space, but I suspect all will be well.

Which means I'm now full-time writer. How amazing. I have a couple of novellas, written in collaboration that I've very excited about, on the back burner, and I'm about to crack on with a caper that should be fun to put together. 

As for the teaching, it was a lifetime and trying to distill anything worthwhile in terms of reflection is nigh on impossible. Though I won't miss the stress, I miss the children and my colleagues. What I can say is that I may not have been the best at what I did, but I did my best with the skills I had and always put the families first. I've never exploited anyone or tried to profit from others and that feels good.

But it's going to take some time, which explains the quote from the book at the head of this review. 

Alice In Jeopardy is a whole lot of fun. As it was published in 2005, it's among McBain's last books and if it was his final effort, it's a hell of a way for him to sign out. 

In terms of my 87th Precinct reads, I've only just reached the 1980s, so this has a much more contemporary feel to it. It reminded me a little of Linwood Barclay, extreme events happening to unassuming people, the jeopardy constantly being ramped up.

Alice has two children. Together, they're putting the pieces of their life back together following the death of their husband/father. 

While working hard trying to sell property in order to pay the bills, Alice gets a call from an unknown lady telling her that her children have been kidnapped and that the only way she'll see them again is if she pays up the $250K ransom. 

Under instruction not to call the police, Alice contacts a loyal friend, but things are complicated when the childminder does her job and informs the law. 

What follows is an action-packed web of intrigue. 

The cops set up a wire tap. The feds are sniffing close. Alice's brother-in-law considers muscling in and finding an angle that will allow him to cut a wedge from the ransom cake. There's a car accident and a broken ankle to deal with, the invasion of the press and the unwelcome attention of a widower who seems to want to help. 

All in all, the pot is so full that stirring it any more would end in disaster for all involved.

I loved it. Even though I nailed some of the key points a while before revelation, it didn't matter one bit. The compexity of it all meant I never stopped striving to get to the next chapter and the denouement.

In the circumstances, the dedication feels touching:

I'm sorry, but she's the love of my life, you know. So this, too, is dedicated to my wife, Dragica.

The full 10 out of 10. 

 

One Man's Opinion: KINDS OF LOVE, KINDS OF DEATH by TUCKER COE

 

There's a foreword to this one by Donald E Westlake explaining his choice of author name for this series and a little about how he wanted Mich Tobin to be an original investigator. It sounded promising. 

And the first chapter is excellent. With little to do since being kicked off the force, Tobin is building a wall. As he digs the foundations, he sees how much his work resembles a grave and digs faster to change its size. There's something about building a wall for no clear reason that is fascinating (think Paul Auster's The Music Of Chance). His efforts are interrupted by a visit from a representative of a local gangster who would like to offer Tobin a job. Tobin isn't interested. I was hooked. 

Then came chapter two. It's all back story and, as is often the case, was totally unecessary to me. The hook slipped from my mouth and I wriggled free. 

I didn't really get caught again. It's only 200 pages long and I rattled through it at a fair rate, yet it was never very satisfying. The set up is overly complicated and Tobin's justification for working for the mob isn't strong enough for me. It's also difficult to see why such a powerful criminal organisation  would turn to a washed up cop who's taken to digging walls. 

There are plenty of characters to meet during a series of interviews and Tobin's faith in his abilities to judge a person from the merest glance is almost a super power. Some of these are engaging. Few of them lead us toward the killer Tobin is searching for. 

A few exciting and unexpected incidents are thrown in to thicken the plot and help to shore things up, but it never really increases the temperature. 

It's not terrible, but lacks the quips and darkness of lots of PI novels and never really grips. Perhaps the addition of some seriously compromising situations for Tobin might have helped. More than anything, this highlights the fact that detective fiction isn't easy to write. 

So, Kinds Of Love, Kinds Of Death is the first in the series. Unless I stumble across a copy of a later addition in a charity shop or library, it'll be my last. It's biggest use to me, a reminder that it's about time I reread some early Paul Auster. The New York Trilogy would be perfectly apt. 

One Man's Opinion: CALYPSO by ED McBAIN

 

On his way home from a successful Calypso gig, George Chadderton is shot. His fine clothes offer no protection and he dies on the spot. His manager, dressed far less impressively, is more fortunate and escapes with some serious wounds. 

Shortly afterwards Clara Hawkins, a local sex worker, is also gunned down and the weapon is the same. Of course, there's a link between the murders, but it takes a while to find out what it is. 

It's pissing down with rain and the cops aren't in good spirits. They take the misery of the weather out on each other and on those whom they're interviewing. 

As Carella and Meyer dig into the investigation, they become intrigued by a night that happened seven years earlier when George's brother disappeared from the face of the earth. As they dig deeper, the ever-decreasing circles lead them to a very dark truth. 

I was travelling when I read this and got through it in a day. It was an excellent companion on the journey and kept me gripped most of the way through. What is noticeable about this one is that it's ramped up the score on the sexometer in relation to the 87th books, which often flirt with the erotic, exotic and perverse. This time, the sex is on another level, in part due to the nature of those involved in the case. Our killer is particulalrly unbalanced and George's wife offers Carella more than just a helping hand. 

There's a big shift in the book at about half way through. It comes as something of a jolt and took me a while to regain my footing. I've been trying to work out if there might have been another way (a better one) to add the change of direction, but haven't come up with anything yet (and who am I to question the master in his thinking?). 

Overall, very satisfying and has more of a standalone feel to it than the books in the series up to this point. 

 

One Man's Opinion: WILD TOWN by JIM THOMPSON

 

Bugs McKenna finds himself in the Wild Town in question, getting himself into trouble from the off. Again. He's fresh out of prison and can't seem to fathom why all of his decisions are terrible. He's clearly very handsome and has a certain alure. His mind is dull and his temper quick. 

With the help of the man who arrested him, he ends up with a job working nights as hotel security in a place owned by the richest man in town, a wheelchair-bound oil tycoon. The hotel is populated by an array of odd characters who each have a part to play a part in the tale that unfolds. 

Bugs gets himself into trouble when he's involved in the death of the house accountant who falls out of the window. Thing is, blackmail letters suggest that there was someone in the room who witnessed what happened and is now turning the screw. Bugs's guilt and obesssion overwhelms him, though Crime and Punishment this really isn't, and he's on an accelerating spiral of decline from that point on. 

Along the way he has several enounters with attractive women and manages to sleep with (and satisfy) them all. His love for the fiancee of the local law is all-encapsulating, and is all the more unrealistic for its intensity. 

The plot is engaging and there's plenty to like. I had no more idea of what was really going on than poor old Bugs, whose thought processes we get snarled up in and whose mistakes are underlined when the author jumps in with pointers to swirl up the tension. 

Something about the characters and the narration style don't quite work for me. It's populated by caracatures and out-of-place comments, feeling like a pastiche of B-movies that was put together in a rush. 

That's not to say there's nothing to like. Bugs is easy to get along with and there are some cracking set pieces and quips. 

This one's good, if a little dated and scattergun. Close, but no cigar.  

THE PEARL by JOHN STEINBECK

A little different from my previous experiences of Steinbeck, The Pearl offers a warning about human greed and a reminder of the power that the few hold over the many. In some ways, I think this universal story is something I was heading for with Fever, though it goes without saying that Steinbeck hits the message home with more power than I could ever muster.

Where it differs from the bulk of what I've read before is in its depth. There isn't the same sense of character or depth of reaction. Right from the beginning, there's a sense of parable or fable. The lesson's clear early doors and there's only one way this is heading. It's not going to be pretty. 

Kino is a pearl diver like most of the community he lives in. There's a history and a tradition in his work and he has a simple and fulfilling life. Though the economics of poverty stands against him, he grinds out the day-to-day with his wife and child as the tides come in and out. There's a pride in what he does and where he comes from and such a person is difficult to disrespect. 

Two things happen to Kino that will change his life. The first, his son is bitten by a scorpion. The second, he finds the most beautiful pearl of all time. 

In spite of the anticipated reaction of the local doctor, the baby hangs in there. It's only after news of the pear's discovery has traveled around the island that the doctor steps off his pedestal and deigns to offer treatment. This series of interactions arrives as a barrage of gut punches for the reader. 

Just as everything goes right, everything starts to go wrong. The world of finance closes in against him, he loses trust in everyone and is eventually brought down to the level of the exploiting classes when he loses the plot and attacks his wife for warning him that the pearl will only bring them bad luck. 

It's a raw and tough tale that somehow feels like it's going through the numbers, yet while on the journey of Kino and his family there is genuine tension created. As I read, it was as if the darkness was slowly closing in until finally there was no light remaining. 

A short work that may not be a keeper, but is one I'm not likely to forget in a hurry.

 

NOBODY RUNS FOREVER by RICHARD STARK

 

Nobody Runs Forever is a meaty read. It's full of tension and complication and the many strands weave together into an engrossing pattern with ease. 

I was so involved in it that I barely had time to dwell on the niggle that this is yet another job that Parker would have run a mile from in the past. There are so many wobbly pillars holding up the operation that the alarm bells were ringning mighty loud. There's the fragile confidence of the ex-con with access to the targetted bank information; his lover, wife of the bank owner, who is prone to lose her calm and act upon impulse; the bounty hunter after information about a recently disappeared criminal not long since dispatched by one of Parker's associates; the partner of the bounty hunter who just won't let go; the sister of the ex-con who wants to protect her brother at all costs; the doctor who allows his office to be used by the crew to hatch the robbery who needs the heist to come off as much as any of them; and a beautiful and wayward cop who is right on Parker's tail. 

It's a mess with all those loose ends, yet the plan is too well-formed to walk away from and from the mire of the build-up, the heist emerges. 

The layers of the story are handled brilliantly and the Parker's team have some of the best one-liners anywhere. There's no waste in terms of plot development or within the prose and every nail is hit right on the head. 

Stark really ramps up the tension in the aftermath of the robbery and when I read the final page, I'm pretty sure my jaw must have dropped and I was unsure of anything for a few minutes afterwards. It's such a brilliant ending that I urge you to pick up this one and give it a go. 

An excellent novel.