Retro Review: The Dry

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

4 stars. You’ve heard the story a thousand times: detective with a dark past returns to his small hometown and ends up solving a murder. The usual. Oh, and don’t forget secrets. Secrets are revealed. 

This is exceptional, though. It’s a neat little thriller with strong characters and a transporting atmosphere. It’s bleak and brutal but well-balanced by the protagonist’s determined good intentions. Harper also captures an overly done setting - suffering small town - in a way that lends to the story rather than drowning it in tropes and archetypes. And beyond that, The Dry is a true page-turner - I almost wish I hadn’t correctly identified the killer before the big reveal. It’s super satisfying and intense.

I don’t know why, but I expected something amateur-ish and rambling from this book. I was truly and pleasantly surprised and am impressed with the writing as a whole. It did remind me of Sharp Objects and Into the Water and Sycamore and other similar books, but this one really crackled on its own. It was concise, well-paced, dark and fresh. I will absolutely and quite happily read on to the next book.

The Dry on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Faithful Place

4 stars. I was in the mood for something immersive, detailed and adult. Tana French always delivers. Faithful Place centers on Frank Mackey, a successful undercover detective called home when a suitcase is unearthed. The suitcase belongs to his first love, Rose Daly, who had ditched him for London twenty years ago. Thrown into his past among the people he swore to forget, Frank becomes determined to find out why Rose left without her possessions and broke his heart. Nothing is as it appears to be in this twisty mystery.

Compared to the first two books in this series, Faithful Place is the shortest, most predictable, most traditional mystery. It also threads more clearly the brisk Irishness only faintly felt in the other two. It's more focused on family, and class, and forgiveness. It's a slightly - only slightly - more believable premise. Frank is as deeply characterized as you'd expect, though much more charming and less mopey (sorry, Rob and Cassie!). It's all-around excellent.

I know this has been said every which way, but Tana French really is So Damn Good. Her colloquialisms and sharp turns are like disgustingly amazing. She somehow takes "shouldn't-investigate-but-investigates-anyway" to a whole new level. The layers of commentary about family and socioeconomic class are intricate and compelling. I feel like I learned a TON about Ireland - and about people. Seeing the world through Frank's eyes provided a unique, unforgettable reading experience.

This one is also surprisingly romantic - I suppose all of her books sparkle in a certain romantic way. I found it to be a bit melodramatic here (I don't really believe in "teen love"), and yet somehow charming. But it's also fucking brutal. It's not a feel-good book, it's just sort of darkly satisfying. And while I guessed the twist early on, I enjoyed feeling French dig her heels in with certain characters. She's smack dab on top of what makes a good novel and I ate up every word. Also, I think she may have nailed the 80's.

It's hard to make recommendations for these books, because there aren't many to compare. They're all just psychologically beautiful; quintessentially and delightfully Tana French. I want to study why they work so well.

Faithful Place on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: If We Were Villains

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. I have mixed feelings about this book. There’s so much Shakespeare, which I absolutely loved. It compares quite adequately to The Secret History and its other lookalikes, which I also loved. It’s fast-paced, well-rounded and well-written. But it isn’t perfect and, I’m sorry to say, I was left unsatisfied. 

First issue - can anyone explain Richard’s escalating behavior in Act I? In my experience, people don’t change quite that dramatically without some sort of catalyst - drug abuse, adult onset bipolar disorder, SOMETHING. From the beginning, Richard felt like a plot device, his tantrums ultimately unexplained. It just didn’t feel natural, to me.

Second issue - one of the fantastic elements of The Secret History is its believability. Donna Tartt took pages and pages and pages to build a sturdy foundation so by the time we get to the murder, it feels like an act within the realm of what we’d expect from our characters. And listen, I’m happy to suspend realism for the sake of a good story. But the fact that six people completely readjusted their moral compasses on exactly the same night after a man demonstrated mentally ill - antagonistic, aggressive, scary, but mentally ill nonetheless - behavior for, what, several weeks? After years of friendship? Does not compute. For me, at least.

Third issue - about ¾ of the way through the book I shut it and whispered “first world problems.” This has been noted in other reviews, but these characters are privileged, ignorant and exhibit totally skewed perspectives. This may be explained by the whole “blame everything on Shakespeare” theme, and I actually buy that, in away. I’m certain that the school formed a bubble in which these people lived and perceived things and made decisions. But it really did seem … beyond dramatic. Melodramatic.

Fourth issue - all of this could’ve been solved had people just slept with whom they were attracted. Yeah, this is all basically just a giant case of romantic self-sabotage. Everybody’s cockblocking each other and using each other for sex and everything could’ve been prevented had the characters been honest with themselves. And look, truthfully, I don’t think I’m looking at this objectively. These people’s approach to courtship and sex and love don’t match my experiences at all. I don’t know anything about anything that transcends lust - transcends love even - enough to believe Oliver’s actions. I guess the characters felt like teenagers saturated with hormones (not unlike Romeo and Juliet?) rather than 20-something college students. 

WAIT, IS THAT THE POINT?! Did I just stumble on the whole damn point? These people spent so much time playing Shakespeare’s exaggerated, overemotional characters that they became exaggerated and overemotional themselves? HMMMM.

Alright, well, I feel bad now. I enjoyed this. I really did. M.L. Rio is incredibly talented and I have a huge crush on her. I want to learn from her - I want to learn how she thinks and what she knows and how she writes. I want to bond with her on things like Shakespeare and drama and Big Themes. But, as always, to thine own self be true, and If We Were Villains just felt a little empty, to me.

If We Were Villains on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Lost Man

5 stars. This was GREAT, as expected. Jane Harper is becoming one of my must-read authors. If you enjoy quick, well-plotted, atmospheric mysteries (with a distinctly Australian flavor!), Harper's for you. 

This particular book is a low stakes mystery about a man who returns home - to a broken family in a town from which he was exiled - to deal with his brother's death. As he tries to reconcile and recover from the shock, he realizes he has to face some difficult truths about his past, his present, and his future. It's a story about human nature, denial, abuse, and resilience under harsh conditions. And it's incredibly enjoyable.

I think Aaron Falk is my favorite, so far, but I'm kind of embarrassed with how quickly and deeply I became invested in Nathan Bright's journey. I don't always agree with Harper's protagonists, but I almost always understand them. And her characters are all wonderfully distinct, with clever, strange voices and a hearty mix of good and evil in each. Even the dead ones, portrayed in flashbacks and observational comments, come across brilliantly.

It didn't hurt the book at all, but things wrapped up really neatly here. I actually found that to be quite nice, quite satisfying. I don't think this author is particularly worried about being unpredictable (though the twist was nice). Answers are good but a captivating quest to find them is better. Harper clearly trusts her readers and her writing is better for it.

I am personally in awe of Harper's ability to play with emotions, like shame and determination and forgiveness, and things like memory and intricate family dynamics. I also love the way she makes her setting a character - pushing, pulling, inspiring characters in interesting ways. She consistently paints a really vivid environmental picture; I had no trouble imagining the heat and the dust of the Outback. And she dives headfirst into some important issues here in striking and surprising ways. The way she portrays the nuances of rape and consent - breathtaking. I hope she never stops writing about quiet, complicated humans in complicated situations.

AWESOME BOOK.

The Lost Man on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: In a Dark, Dark Wood

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. I didn't really like this. I was seduced by the creepy title and the promise of a dark thriller but all I got was a basic story told in weird increments. It was mediocre and predictable and while it kept me turning pages I just really didn't care.

There were a lot of annoying things about this book but the biggest, for me, had to be the protagonist. I know others have commented on her here and I would agree that she's just damn ridiculous. Consuming a story of any kind requires suspension of belief, and I'm willing to suspend a lot if the action is enjoyable and satisfying in its own way. But I'm really unwilling to believe that a girl was so traumatized by a pretty typical (yeesh, that may be misguided - common? fairly common?) romantic experience that it dictated every action years later. My favorite phrase, used by a reviewer above, is "psychologically improbable." Yeah, that just about covers it.

And it's the plot, too - everything's so campy and melodramatic and twisty in a way that simply isn't creative. It wasn't dark enough, for me. I mean, I was super unsettled by the fact that she even went to the stupid bachelorette party in the first place, but I was unsettled in a "oh, this narrator is really fucking dumb," and "a bachelorette party? I'd rather put a campfire out with my face" sort of way.

I read an interview with Ruth Ware in which she described this book as a combination of Agatha Christie and the Scream movies. Cool! What a fabulous concept. And also an extremely admirable goal. I am into it! I just don't think she got there, though, with this one. Poor execution. I'd like to read some of her other books and try her again, though.

In a Dark, Dark Wood on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Before the Fall

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

3 stars. I'm a huge Noah Hawley fan. Fargo and Legion are so incredibly creative and engaging and strong, so obviously I opened Before the Fall with high expectations and a side-eye on the hype. And did it get there? Did it do it for me? Well, sort of.

I've been thinking a lot about Goodreads and social media and its impact on the book world, and I would agree with many that Goodreads "reviews" should really be called "reactions." If I were to "review" this book, I'd probably give it a higher score than if I simply "reacted." I mean look, critics loved this book. They raved about it. "Ingeniously nerve-racking" - New York Times. "Terrific thriller" - Washington Post. "Highly entertaining" - AP.

My purpose here is different, though. I just want to chat! I want to provide my opinion in an informal (lazy) manner without feeling the pressure to recommend or not recommend. I want to unpack and extrapolate to a certain degree but keep things firmly in the realm of "response" rather than "review."

Ugh, okay, back to the book: I just don't know. I loved the concept - I like group dissection stories in which a bunch of characters are introduced and we learn about them one-by-one. I liked the mystery and the social commentary and the insights about families and relationships. I liked that it starts with a plane crash and moves backward and forward to build the narrative. I was delighted by the cinematic details and the deep characterization for which Hawley is particularly well-known.

BUT, I didn't like the ending, so much, although it was the type of dark turn I normally really enjoy. I thought the political / entertainment industry satire fell a little flat. Overall, it lacked a spark, I think, for me. It lacked the special flavor that usually keeps me reading something like this. It just wasn't spicy enough! I'm still a huge Hawley fan (his work this season on Legion is triumphant), but as I said, this is just a solid sort of for me.

Before the Fall on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Mystic River

Wow. This was awesome. 4 stars but not without 5 star moments. The character development in this is unlike anything I've ever read - you truly enter into people's minds. I'm really, really, really impressed.

The plot is a bit complicated, so let's see if I can summarize: three boys are playing in the street. One of them is abducted and escapes after four days. Each of these boys - Jimmy, Sean, and Dave - carry the experience, the questions, and the trauma of this event for the rest of their lives.

Twenty-five years later, Jimmy's daughter Katie is murdered. Sean, now a homicide detective, is assigned to the case. And Dave, the boy who was taken and later found, becomes a suspect. The three old friends circle each other, and circle their pasts, trying to survive in a world that has marked them.

The construction is masterful, but like I said, the shining aspect of this novel is the character development. One of Lehane's most prevalent themes - the human curse of feeling distinct and special in a world that doesn't care - underscores the fact that every headspace we inhabit here is unique. Lehane's transitions from voice to voice are smooth like butter.

And it's also because of this, his ability to write voices that are loud and distinct, that we get characters that are flawed. I wouldn't say there's anyone to root for here, except maybe concepts; you root for justice, the truth, hope. But each person is interesting and multifaceted and damaged and imperfect, and written that way without apology.

It's a devastating story and I could chew on Lehane's explorations of grief and fear and masculinity for days. It's long and I wanted it to be longer. It's definitely a good mystery (and I did NOT predict the twist! I'm off my game!) but I found the really good stuff in the questions, not the answers. It's like I came away from this with confirmation of something that has been slowly dawning on me as an adult: everything is fucking complicated. 

Spectacular writing. Spectacular book.

Mystic River on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Cuckoo's Calling (Cormoran Strike #1)

Hmmmmm.

2 stars. Cormoran Strike, one-legged private detective and scruffy bachelor, has just landed a new assistant - and a new case. Lula Landry, supermodel and paparazzi darling, died after apparently jumping off her balcony. Only her brother doesn't believe she jumped, as he's willing to pay double. 

Look, this is just okay, alright? The writing is pretty amateur, though it definitely contains that zippy, readable quality that hooks you in well enough. It's very British, and contains a lot of unnecessary words; a lot of excessive imagery and similes and metaphors. 

And the plot - ridiculous. He grabs her by the breast?! By the breast??? The part with the flowers leaving drops of water big enough for a security doorman to slip on them? The painfully obvious killer who sits there listening while Strike talks - and talks - and talks about his crime? Comparing body hair to coconut matting?!

The dialogue, too, don't even get me started. It's just unrealistic. The flow of conversation felt ... droll. And the characters. Every character was a cartoon. Galbraith seems obsessed with physical flaws. Don't get me wrong, highlighting a character's appearance can be interesting when well-done; this just felt mean. Like he was mocking, or bullying, people with acne or bad teeth or different accents. 

It's also clear that Galbraith injected his own agenda, not very subtly, into the story. We all know how he feels about the media, there's no need to bump us over the head with it. There's a way to gracefully incorporate a political agenda but this just felt lazy. 

The truth is, though, I couldn't put this down. Like a mediocre but addicting episode of a BBC mystery from the 80s. I sort of skimmed through the end, because of all the damn talking, but the whole thing was engaging enough. I will be reading more, dammit, and I hope Robin gets to be more than a sexy supporting character. And I hope we get to see people doing stuff, instead of just sitting around talking about doing stuff. 

Bottom line: try harder, Galbraith. I know your achievements are unparalleled, but I'm allowed to call you imperfect. 

The Cuckoo’s Calling on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Pines

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

2 stars. Secret Service Agent Ethan Burke arrives in Wayward Pines, Idaho to investigate the disappearance of two fellow agents. Upon arrival, Burke is involved in a serious car accident and wakes up in a town where nothing is as it seems. Stranded and confused, Burke begins to unravel the mystery of the town in an adventure that ends in a fight for his life.

Well, this book was exhausting. And not in a good way.

It was sort of like one giant, extended chase scene (that seriously pushed the limits of reality) with a bizarre plot twist at the end.

Don't get me wrong - the plot twist was fascinating, and twisted, and science fiction in the BEST way. It's just that EVERYTHING ELSE - the writing, the characters, the dialogue - was so shoddy it detracted from the impact of the big reveal.

I actually ended up skimming a lot, especially toward the end. And I'm such a weirdo perfectionist that I almost NEVER skim, even if I hate what I'm reading.

I just couldn't take any more of "Ethan's Survival Guide to the Idaho Wilderness." I just couldn't handle another scene in which the superhuman secret agent somehow avoided the town mob armed only with pure adrenaline and insane rock-climbing abilities.

It's such a good concept. But man, is the execution poor.

I really liked the author's afterword, and his obvious admiration of Twin Peaks. In my opinion, though, had he channeled even half the subtle creepiness of David Lynch into the story, he would have been much better off. It was obvious that something was wrong the minute Ethan arrived in Wayward Pines - but that was the problem. It shouldn't have been that obvious, at least not at first. The town shouldn't have fought him so hard so quickly. The clues should've been more subtle, and quiet - and thus would've been so much more unnerving.

Watch the TV show instead. It's a tremendous mystery that makes so much more sense.

Pines on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Sharp Objects

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

5 stars. Here's a summary, for those of you who somehow haven't encountered one yet: Camille Preaker, fresh out of a mental institution, reluctantly returns to her hometown on a work assignment. Wind Gap, Missouri is reeling from the murders of two young girls, and Camille is told to write a story on the deaths for her small Chicago newspaper. Unfortunately, she has a horrible past and a horrible relationship with her family (specifically, her mother). Still grieving the death of her sister from years ago, Camille tries to gather the facts for her story while unintentionally unearthing the darkness from her childhood.

I loved Sharp Objects, but warning: this is not a feel-good book. I know it's cliche to say, but Gillian Flynn is a super gutsy writer and that comes through significantly in this narrative. She features characters that hate themselves and hate everyone around them (and somehow don't feel like antagonists - they feel very human). Camille, in this novel, is incredibly superficial and harshly critical of others - she zeroes in on every potentially unflattering characteristic of those she encounters and highlights them in grossly detailed ways.

This is also a bit of a Gillian Flynn trademark. The gross details. I remember her describing vomited spaghetti in Dark Places - the words she used left quite an impression (warning: there is a lot of vomit in Sharp Objects, too). Then again, seeing vomited spaghetti would likely leave an impression if I had seen it with my own eyes.

So maybe that's one of her strengths - her ability to realistically describe what we pay attention to. When someone at the table gets spinach in their teeth, it's all anyone can think about. Basically, Gillian Flynn has a knack for pointing it out. And describing it in the most disgusting way possible. And somehow making the spinach-wearer seem hateful even though the spinach-wearer isn't technically at fault. I just love her grotesque style.

I also loved the story. I figured out what was going on almost immediately, but that didn't take away from the experience at all. I found myself reading and rushing and reading and rushing because I wanted confirmation so badly.

Look, this book is disturbing. It is dark, especially in its depiction of women as villains and as victims. I may return to expand on how upon reading Sharp Objects,I felt as though a piece clicked into place in the puzzle of what it means to be a woman. But for now, I'll just say that I loved every word. A home run.

Sharp Objects on: Amazon | Goodreads