Gone Girl

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When his wife goes missing, Nick Dunne quickly finds himself the prime suspect. Did he kill his wife? Was their marriage as perfect as it seemed? Or was there someone sinister going on all along?

One the heels of reading Dark Places and catching a dose of Gillian Flynn fever, I decided to take on her show dog, Gone Girl. People are bastards, bastards coated in douche bags and then rolled in a pile of assholes. That's the life lesson I learned from reading Gone Girl.

Told using a more or less parallel structure with shifting viewpoints between Nick and Amy, both unreliable narrators, Gone Girl is less a mystery than a study of just how underhanded people can be to one another. The disintegration of Nick and Amy's relationship kept the book going in the beginning, before its full scope was revealed.

Gillian Flynn is a master of manipulation. I lost count of how many times I switched my allegiance from one character to another, bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. Once the truth of what really happened unfolded, I was pretty much aghast.

The dying small town of Carthage is one of those rural settings that I love in a crime book. When you've got the Big Muddy rolling right next to your town, it's a great way to dispose of any incriminating evidence.

It's probably going to be akin to blasphemy is some people's eyes but I actually preferred Dark Places to this one for a few reasons. The pace in Gone Girl was a little on the slow side at times. The scheme was a little too far fetched, even though it's would be doable given the right sociopath. The ending also kind of sucks and the book felt like it was about twenty pages too long. The biggest advantage Dark Places has over Gone Girl is that I cared about Libby Day. Nick and Amy could both get run down by a garbage truck and I wouldn't bat an eye.

Gone Girl was a pretty good read, as expected. Gillian Flynn reads like a grittier Megan Abbot or the illegitimate spawn of Jim Thompson on one of his many drunken benders. 4 out of 5 stars.

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Slaughterhouse-Five

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Billy Pilgrim becomes unstuck in time and experiences the events of his life out of chronological order. War and absurdity ensue.

I've never read Kurt Vonnegut up until now and when Slaughterhouse-Five showed up in my cheapo ebook email a few days ago, I decided it was time. Get it?

Slaughterhouse-Five is often classified as science fiction but it reads more like Kurt Vonnegut trying to make sense of his World War II experiences through a humorous (at times) science fiction story. It also seems to be a Big Important Book, due to novelly things like themes of anti-war and the absurdities that come with it. It also uses a non-linear plot structure to illustrate the timey-wimey nature of Billy's affliction.

There's not really a whole lot to tell. Slaughterhouse-Five is basically a collection of non-chronological events in Billy Pilgrim's life: his experiences in World War II, his life after the war, and his abduction by the Tralfamadorians, aliens who view events in time simultaneously rather than chronologically.

The bleakness and black humor go together surprisingly well, like beer and White Castles. I have to wonder, though, if Slaughterhouse-Five would be as highly regarded as it is if it didn't land on so many banned book lists over the years. Nothing like some controversy to get people to read.

While it wasn't pants-shittingly awesome, I enjoyed it quite a bit and I'll likely pick up another Vonnegut book in the future. Four out of five stars. So it goes.

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Dark Magic Indeed

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

To call Joan Didion cold or even heartless - true as it may be in the light of The Year of Magical Thinking, this monument to the analytical dissection of grief - is itself a cold and heartless condemnation. We all grieve in our own way. This is hers.

After losing numerous family members suddenly and too soon, Didion then lost her husband and daughter within the span of a year. This book is her cathartic contemplation of that loss.

Heartrending, yes occasionally. Heartwarming, no never. Didion's demeanor is all too cerebral. It is as if she has educated herself above emotion. Certainly it can be said that some educate themselves beyond their own well-being. In this case, we see a mind so removed from the everyday reality of man as to answer "a motherless child" instead of "a nut" when asked to fill in the blank for "Sometimes you feel like ____." The result, when pushed to produce a book about grieving for loved ones, is an academic's deconstruction. No, it is not without feeling, she is still human after all, but stoicism is her strongest suit.

Beyond the almost biting cynicism you get beautiful language, great observations and insights to, let's call it, a different kind of emotion.

I assume, and sincerely hope, she never reads reviews like this. She shouldn't care what snarky assholes think of her work, not this work and not after the experiences she went through that brought it about. One who suffers so many visits from Death should not give two shits or even one single flying fuck what the rest of the world thinks.

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Let it go...Let it go!

The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness
Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This isn't what I expected and that's a-okay fine, because The Knife of Never Letting Go is a razor-sharp story! (sorry, that was terrible)

I guess I was thinking this would be more cerebral, but it turned out to be a fast-paced, action-filled read that reminded me a bit of The Hunger Games in that it follows a kid in survival mode in a dystopian world.

Here's the story in a nutshell: A boy on the verge of becoming a man via his village's secretive initiation rites, flees the isolated community with an angry mob at his heels, trying to find out what the heck is going on along the way.

Though this was a straight up adventure story heavy on Campbell's archetypal mythology, it did have it's thoughtful moments and ideas to ponder. For instance, men have the ability to hear in their heads what other men are thinking, thus they are tormented by what they call "Noise," the mass of thoughts continuously bombarding them. Women don't give off noise, but can hear the noise of men. I don't know if this was intended, but I thought that was a nice parallel to real life, where generally speaking men's thoughts are not hard to deduce and women are a mystery to men, again, generally speaking.

The narration is first person, so we are constantly in the mind of Todd Hewitt, a young, uneducated, angry, and often frustrated youth. Sticking with a stupid hick for 400+ pages can be trying on the nerves. But Ness' world creation is a good distraction, his plot is intriguing enough and he added in some levity in the form of a pet dog for Todd, so I managed to hang in there. As with most dystopian novels I've read, scenery description is sparse. Ness' desire to keep the ball rolling and only slow it down for a bit of exposition now and then, means that he didn't spend much time with the setting. That's fine, and even preferable for action's sake, but it can leave one feeling empty and colorblind for want of scenery.

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Eon, by Alison Goodman

Eon
by Alison Goodman

Reviewed by Sesana
 Four out of five stars

Publisher Summary:

Sixteen-year-old Eon has a dream, and a mission. For years, he’s been studying sword-work and magic, toward one end. He and his master hope that he will be chosen as a Dragoneye—an apprentice to one of the twelve energy dragons of good fortune.

But Eon has a dangerous secret. He is actually Eona, a sixteen-year-old girl who has been masquerading as a twelve-year-old boy. Females are forbidden to use Dragon Magic; if anyone discovers she has been hiding in plain sight, her death is assured.

When Eon’s secret threatens to come to light, she and her allies are plunged into grave danger and a deadly struggle for the Imperial throne. Eon must find the strength and inner power to battle those who want to take her magic... and her life.

My Review:

Eon is a sort of cousin of Tamora Pierce's Alanna: a girl disguising herself as a boy to, in a nutshell, kick ass and take names. No, Eon/a is not quite the woman Alanna is, but that's a really, really high bar to set. She has earned her place in that category of badass YA heroines, though.

Eon is, in many ways, about gender. The world of Eon, heavily Asian-influenced, is a profoundly misogynistic one: men hold all the power, and women are completely devalued. Which makes Eona's ruse, disguising herself as a boy to gain the power of a dragon, a very dangerous one. The plot of the book is essentially about Eona learning to recognize her own power and ability as a woman, a power that she doesn't have to borrow from a man. It's significant to me that the female power in this book is one of rage, not the more stereotypical nurturing energy I'd more than half expected to see. Eona can only be powerful as a woman, and she's damned powerful.

Another positive: the wonderful Lady Dela. Dela was by far my favorite character, bright, witty, and very capable in her role as courtier. And a transwoman whose gender identity really isn't a big deal. Eon asks her a few, respectful questions, and that's it. She thinks of her as a woman consistently and without any particular drama. It is really, really cool to have a trans character in a YA novel, or any novel, really, without that character's gender being an issue. That isn't to say that Dela is entirely free or prejudice, just that her gender identity isn't an issue for her or Eon, simply a detail of her character. Let me be clear, I would love Dela in any event for her personality, because she's awesome. But she's also an important character, in a real world sense.

For me, what is meant to be the big twist was telegraphed very, very early on. <spoiler>I realized almost immediately that the Mirror Dragon had to be female, and that her absence was because of the way women were excluded from the Dragoneye cycle.</spoiler> I was surprised with how little I was irritated with Eona for lagging so far behind me. But it's very easy to see why she's unable to see what's so obvious to me, a reader who hasn't been immersed in her culture. <spoiler>From birth, it's been drilled into her that female, Moon energy is weak and unwelcome, so it makes sense that she'd be blind to that power even when it's right in front of her.</spoiler> But this will probably annoy the crap out of some people who will just want to slap some sense into her. I don't judge.

I was very uncomfortable with how quickly the threat of rape shows up, as soon it's feasible. And Eona's relationship with her mentor becomes increasingly creepy, in many ways, which is never really dealt with. I very much could have done without the rape threats and creeping, thanks.

The world building seemed to be really good when I was reading the book. It was only after I finished that I realized that I still didn't understand much of what the dragon magic did. I guess that's what the second book is for. This one doesn't really end on a cliffhanger, but the story is obviously far from over. Not a bad way to end the first book, actually.

Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter

Tom Franklin
William Morrow
Reviewed by Nancy
5 out of 5 stars

Summary


Tom Franklin's narrative power and flair for characterization have been compared to the likes of Harper Lee, Flannery O'Connor, Elmore Leonard, and Cormac McCarthy.

Now the Edgar Award-winning author returns with his most accomplished and resonant novel so far; an atmospheric drama set in rural Mississippi. In the late 1970s, Larry Ott and Silas "32" Jones were boyhood pals. Their worlds were as different as night and day: Larry, the child of lower-middle-class white parents, and Silas, the son of a poor, single black mother. Yet for a few months the boys stepped outside of their circumstances and shared a special bond. But then tragedy struck: Larry took a girl on a date to a drive-in movie, and she was never heard from again. She was never found and Larry never confessed, but all eyes rested on him as the culprit. The incident shook the county— and perhaps Silas most of all. His friendship with Larry was broken, and then Silas left town.

More than twenty years have passed. Larry, a mechanic, lives a solitary existence, never able to rise above the whispers of suspicion. Silas has returned as a constable. He and Larry have no reason to cross paths until another girl disappears and Larry is blamed again. And now the two men who once called each other friend are forced to confront the past they've buried and ignored for decades.



My Review

It was Kemper's review that made me add this book to my shelf. It was Stephen's that made me rush to the library after work and grab a copy.

After reading Shine and Winter's Bone, I was hesitant about reading another depressing story set in the south, but I’m so glad I did.

Larry Ott had a tough childhood growing up in rural Mississippi. He was sickly and he had a stutter. He never quite fit in among his classmates, usually the butt of a joke or the target of a bully. His dad was cold, distant and unaffectionate. Reading books was his only escape, until he met Silas Jones. The two boys were friends for a short time, enjoying activities like shooting, playing in the woods, and hanging out.

Larry’s life was forever changed when popular Cindy Walker asked him on a date. Though no evidence was found linking Larry to her mysterious disappearance, he has been the object of scorn and speculation, resulting in his isolation from the close-knit, rural community he grew up in. Silas, meanwhile, has moved on.

Now 41, Larry’s days are spent repairing the cars of the few out-of-towners who visit his late father’s garage, tending his chickens, and reading his favorite Stephen King novels.

Silas returns to Mississippi as a town constable. He and Larry’s lives intersect again when another girl disappears.

This beautiful, sad and unforgettable story weaves back and forth, between the past and the present, revealing details about childhood and the awkward teenage years. It paints a vivid picture of a depressed town and the secrecy, silence and judgment of its inhabitants. While crime plays a significant role in this story, it is the friendship between Silas and Larry and Larry’s aching loneliness that make the greatest impact.

GHOSTWRITTEN BY THE THEN YOUNG PHENOM DAVID MITCHELL

Ghostwritten by David Mitchell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

”There is truth, and then there is Being Truthful.

Being Truthful is just one more human activity, along with chatting up women, ghostwriting, selling drugs, running a country, designing radiotelescopes, parenting, drumming, and shoplifting. All are susceptible to adverbs. You can be truthful well or badly, frankly or slyly, and you can choose to do it and not to do it….

Truth’s indifference is immutable.”

Have you ever had anyone say to you...Just tell me the truth?

So I ponder what someone wants when they ask that. Do they want the truth as it was last week, as it is today, or what I think it will be tomorrow? Truth mutates like a gecko lizard changing to fit each new environment, each new question. Truth evolves, devolves, with each added experience. The new hemorrhages into the old. Memories fade and are overlaid by new recollections of old events. The good or the bad are enhanced, magnified so large that they hide the very elements that kept a memory anchored near the site of “truth”.

As long as we all agree that a memory is only a version of many truths we will get along just fine.

”The act of memory is an act of ghostwriting.”

I don’t know if David Mitchell pulled the wool over a publisher’s eyes or he simply convinced them that they could publish these short stories and call them a novel. I was into the third section (short story) when I realized exactly what this young Brit had accomplished. Sure all the stories interweave by way of these sometimes very tenuous crossovers, they are the gossamer that drapes around the “truth” and can convince the reader that...yes, this truly is a novel.

After all short story collections are what successful writers publish when their next novel is proving to be rather tricky. Generally, publishers don’t publish short story collections for a writer’s first book. There is a good reason for that because the taste of the public has moved away from short stories. Short story collections without a readership established by a writer’s novels tend to go unloved, unread, ignored, and are quickly pulped/remaindered. If the writer rallies back from the uppercut to the jaw and the flurry of punches to his stomach the public handed him on his first book and writes a novel to great acclaim, that orphaned short story collection becomes a much sought after collectible.

”The strong force that stops the protons of a nucleus hurtling away from one another; the weak force that keeps the electrons from crashing into the protons; electromagnetism, which lights the planet and cooks dinner; and gravity, which is the most down-to-earth. From before the time the universe was the size of a walnut to its present diameter, these four forces have been the statute book of matter, be it the core of Sirius or the electrochemical ducts of the brains of students in the lecture theater of Belfast. Bored, intent, asleep, dreaming, in receding tiers. Chewing pencils or following me.

Matter is thought, and thought is matter. Nothing exists that cannot be synthesized.”

So, really that is what Mitchell has done. He has combined these stories into a coherent whole. He has synthesized a short story collection into a novel. My tendency is to review this novel like I would a short story collection by talking about each tale separately or highlighting a few of my favorites, but then that would really be “letting the cat out of the bag” wouldn’t it?

I liked all the sections of this novel, some I liked immediately, and some grew on me as Mitchell spun out the elements of manipulation. My favorite is the one set in Tokyo set around a tenor saxophonist named Satoru who works in a record store. We like it when a writer writes about us or more precisely about someone we identify with. We appreciate meeting characters that are very different from us, but if “truth” be known we like the characters that are most like us the best. I don’t think it is possible to work in a record store or a bookstore without being a romantic. How else could someone work for such low pay without believing what they are doing is larger than what it seems? These professions are redolent with mythology as they provide opportunity for something truly grand to happen at any moment.

Like a girl, THE girl walking into the shop.

”She was so real, the others were cardboard cutouts beside her. Real things had happened to her to make her how she was, and I wanted to know them, and read them, like a book.”

But she left, evaporated, sucked back into the universe.

”I couldn’t remember accurately what she looked like. Smooth skin, highish cheekbones, narrowish eyes. Like a Chinese empress. I didn’t really think of her face when I thought of her. She was just there, a color that didn't have a name yet. The idea of her.”

She becomes so mystical, so constructed out of straw, that his own existence becomes contingent on her returning. He can’t be who he is suppose to be until the moment she walks back into the shop.

”The her that lived in her looked out through my eyes, through my eyes, and at the me that lives in me.”

His clock winds back up.

There is a terrorist in this book, a man that hates the world, wants to change it, but in reality he is so angry, so disassociated, that he really wants to crack it in half and let the sun eat the pieces. There is a ghost that haunts a stockbroker, a man proud of his ability to compartmentalize, but as his life destabilizes he discovers that logic is illogical. There is a woman living on the Holy Mountain in China who watches her life diverge because of the cowardice of people who should be mandated to protect her.

In Mongolia we spend time seeing the world through the eyes of a disembodied spirit with no memories of it’s own to help guide the present or the future.

”Why am I the way I am? I have no genetic blueprint. I have had no parents to teach me right from wrong. I have had no teachers. I had no nurture, and I possess no nature. But I am discreet and conscientious, a nonhuman humanist.”

A spirit that becomes more human than the humans he inhabits when it is faced with the ultimate sacrifice.

In St. Petersburg we get to hang out with an art curator at the Hermitage Museum. A concubine, a manipulator of men:

”Margarita Latunsky plays men like a master violinist. When I want something from a woman I get angry. When I want something from a man I pout.”

Despite those natural god given abilities or maybe because of them she falls in love and hangs her dreams on the wrong man.

In London we meet a womanizer named Marco who is a ghostwriter or whatever he needs to be if it will get a woman to fall in bed with him. He is the member of a band called The Music of Chance, a nod to the New York author Paul Auster. He is in love with a woman named Poppy, but he can’t give up the randomness of his life to form an even number with her. He wants the roulette wheel to spin every day giving him a chance for something bigger.

We meet a physicist who has escaped to her homeland on Cape Clear Island. She finds it ironic that like a criminal she can’t help but go where she will be found. She quit being a member of a think tank when she discovered her research was being used to make weapons. She hopes they will let her go after all she is in her forties.

”Nobody’s going to kidnap me. Look at me. I’m middle-aged. Only Einstein, Dirac and Feynman made major contributions in their forties.” And now Muntervary.

There is also The Zookeeper, an artificial intelligence who escaped his military caretakers, and instead of trying to destroy the world as we have been lead to believe any rogue IA will attempt to do by the blockbuster movies out of Hollywood, is actually determined to do the opposite. The Zookeeper is trying to live up to his name by keeping the animals with animus separated. The stones they wish to throw must never be allowed to launch.

So if each story is a pearl we could fashion them into earrings, bracelets or rings and they will be beautiful, but if we want them to dazzle we should string them on a necklace where each will enhance the rest.

Maybe, if that is the case, we should call this a novel.

In the future when some linguist/scientist/reader is trying to piece together who we were before we evolved into more perfect beings, the histories will give them a body, but it will be the novels that will put blood in our veins, send electrical impulses to our nerves, and bring air in to our lungs. Our “lies” will tell our story the best.

”Who is blowing on the nape of my neck?”




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Dark Places

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When person or persons unknown murdered her entire family, seven year old Libby Day managed to escape and fingered her brother Ben as the killer. Now, decades later, she's a dysfunctional and nearly penniless, and after meeting some true crime enthusiasts, isn't so sure her brother was the murderer after all. Can Libby discover the truth?

After dodging Gillian Flynn for years in the wake of Gone Girl, I finally caved it when this showed up in one of my daily cheap ebook emails. Gillian Flynn, where have you been all my life?

Dark Places is a mystery but it's one of those mysteries that also happens to be brutal and very well written, like Winter's Bone or something along those lines. Libby Day is a broken adult, having never recovered from her mother and sisters being murdered by her brother. Or were they? Libby cracks open the past like a pinata and takes a look at what falls out: not candy but a lot of ugliness, more like a brood of cockroaches.

Since I live very near nowhere's asshole, rural settings always resonate with me because I understand living miles from everywhere and what could happen in the dark of night. Libby wakes up to the sounds of her family being slaughtered. Not exactly your feel-good read.

I love that instead of some notion of heroism, Libby gets involved in her family's murder because she's nearly run out of money and has no idea how to function as a normal adult. She's a kleptomaniac and has burned every familial bridge she ever trod upon. Lyle and the Kill Club light the spark but it's the lack of money that provides the fuel, at first, anyway.

Gillian Flynn crafts one hell of a mystery yarn but it's her characters that show she's more than just another mystery lover. Ben and Libby are sympathetic figures, despite both being deeply flawed. Still, she makes you understand their motivations, making them seem all too realistic. The parallel structure of the book builds the suspense. I had no idea what actually happened that night until it was pretty much spelled out for me, which I love in a mystery.

There's not much else I want to say for fear of giving something away. Dark Places. Five stars. Read it!


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Baltimore Blues

Baltimore Blues by Laura Lippman
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

When it appears a rowing buddy of hers murdered his fiancee's boss and lover, underemployed Tess Monaghan sets about trying to clear his name. But did Rock kill ace attorney Michael Abramowitz? If he didn't, who did and why? And can Tess find out before she winds up as dead as the lawyer?

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the girl I was seeing at the time told me I would like Laura Lippman. Since she was always pushing books on me, I ignored her. Maybe she was right in that one particular instance.

Baltimore Blues is a mystery that has many more layers than it first appears, like baklava. See, I could have said "onion" but that's what everyone says when they talk about layers. Anyway, it was Laura Lippman's first trip to the dance and she did a lot better than most first time novelists.

As the title indicates, Baltimore plays a big part in the book, almost a character in and of itself, much like George Pelecanos' Washington DC, Dennis Lehane's Boston, and Lawrence Block's New York. Much like Detroit, Baltimore doesn't get by on looks. It has to work for a living, to paraphrase Elmore Leonard.

Since this was the first book in the series, Lippman had some groundwork to lay and she did it in a fairly painless way. We know Tess is into rowing, has an on again/off again reporter boyfriend named Jonathan and used to be a reporter but we don't get clubbed over the head with any of it. I liked that Tess isn't hot, wasn't involved in a love triangle, and generally behaved like a real person instead of being a moron like most fictional detectives wind up being in order to advance the plot. Also, she works in a bookstore. A lady detective that works in a bookstore? Hard to top that, ladies.

Like all great mysteries, it took me forever to figure out what really happened and it turned out I was still wrong. Part of it was misdirection but I have to say I think another part of it was that it was such a convoluted affair. That was my only gripe with the book. I thought the mystery was way too serpentine and not readily solveable. Also, I'm still pretty sure Ava was boning somebody besides Rock but that was never revealed.

So, I liked Baltimore Blues quite a lot but not enough to take it into a bus station men's room and have rough intercourse with it. I'll be reading more of Laura Lippman's chronicles of Tess Monaghan. 3.5 out of 5 stars.

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A Lover Man Finds Himself in Serious Trouble

Reviewed by James L. Thane
Four out of five stars

Artie Deemer has a life that many would envy. He spends the bulk of his time sitting in his New York apartment, smoking dope and listening to classic jazz. He can afford to do so because he’s supported in luxurious style by his dog, Jellyroll, the spokesdog for R-r-ruff Dog Food and a famous star of movies and television. Artie occasionally has to take Jellyroll to a studio and put him through his paces, but it’s hardly the most demanding job in the world.

Until a year ago, Artie was madly in love with a beautiful woman named Billie Burke, an artist/photographer. He’s still a bit madly in love with Billie, but to no avail since she ditched him for another lover (or two or three). Artie is stunned when the cops interrupt one of his relaxing afternoons to tell him that Billie has been found, bound and drowned in her bathtub. The cops suggest that Artie might be a suspect in the killing and then, to make matters worse, Artie discovers that he’s overlooked a message that Billie left on his answering machine just before she was killed. In the message, she begs him to come see her at her studio and tells him that she has something for him there.

Artie decides that he has to find whatever it is she might have left for him. This means, of course, that he will have to slip into the crime scene and search it, in violation of all sorts of laws. He tracks down his lawyer, who’s hard at work losing money in a pool hall and who advises Artie not to do it. Happily, Artie ignores this sound advice; if he didn’t there would be no book, and that would be a shame because it turns out to be a pretty good one.

Artie is a very engaging protagonist and naturally, once he sneaks into the studio and discovers what Billie left him, he puts himself in the crosshairs of the NYPD and the FBI, as well as an assorted group of mobsters, con men and aging World War II fighter pilots. (The book was first published in 1987, when these flyboys would have been in their late sixties.) Artie struggles to stay one step ahead of them all as he attempts to unravel the complex mystery that led to the death of his ex-lover. He doesn’t always succeed, which means that his life expectancy may not be all that great.

This is a very entertaining book, laced with a wry humor and populated by a quirky cast of characters. It’s now available in new trade paperback and e-book editions, and readers who seek it out are sure to enjoy it.