Quicksand by Steve Toltz (fiction)

First Published in the New York Journal of Books

October 12, 2015

He’s the last person you’d want to sit by on a bus. As a brother-in-law, he’d probably make you poke forks in your eyes at the family picnic. Probably the most self-absorbed and offensive character you’ll meet…so, why is he so appealing?

This is Aldo and he’s the gyre this novel seems to revolve around, dizzy and disjointed in a way filled with seriously witty lines and repellent acts. Aldo and Liam are long-time friends who’ve grown into adults left with little to take pride in, and a history of disappointment. Having both lost sisters to early deaths, they share a bond that makes you think that you’re headed for a poignant tale of friendship. Poignant, yes.  Wildly unpredictable?  That too.

At times it appears that the purpose of Aldo is a mirror to discover the nature of Liam, a fascinating character on his own. Liam is a writer who is so interested in authenticity for his characters that he attends the police academy to research police procedure. When his novel dies soon after, he ends up becoming a policeman to make his living. The irony of painful reality versus dreams.

research can be dangerous

When the story begins Aldo is in a wheelchair, and the two are bored in a bar in Australia. Regret swarms them. Liam’s police uniform chafes him mentally, and Aldo is bent on offending everyone. Liam decides that Aldo is his lost muse, and decides to return to writing: “to write about you is to troubleshoot the human spirit.”

For Aldo, a middle-class kid who is not graced with any advantages, life is a brutal game of catch-as-catch-can. Early in his teens he’s falsely accused of rape, and it alters his personality forever.  “Always democratic in his alliances, now he became friends with everybody…It was as if by surrounding himself with people, he was building airtight alibis for every minute he passed on earth.” His personality becomes a jarring combination of moral superiority and immoral and illegal business practices. Fond of himself, he assumes others loathe him.

Schemes abound, such as his idea to start a B&B&B (Brothel, Bed & Breakfast), as well as developing restaurants and films. Without much forethought, he reels in investors but delivers nothing. He becomes a legend in their region, a loser that seems to have a group of successful acquaintances who help bail him out, enabling him to continue to delude himself, when they aren’t beating him up. And there’s always Liam to come to the rescue.

But in his misery and joblessness, he has all the great lines. Of a stiff-mannered sketch artist, he said “he looked like he would have to be loved intravenously”. Of himself, he says he is “a sleeper angel waiting to be activated”. His acerbic presence in the first half of the novel is delightful.

Here’s where the narrative gets complicated. In a completely non-linear way, tossing most conventions aside, Toltz gets experimental. We are forced into leaving the storytelling for a long-winded section about Aldo’s fate. He’s facing trial and we have yet to understand what caused his disability. 

When he was a wise-ass blowhard with intriguing thoughts and observations, he was a sympathetic character. We liked him more than he liked himself (which was a lot!). His efforts to get the upper hand on his body are epic: he attempts surfing even if it means dragging his paralyzed body across the sand. But once the trial begins, and he’s given free rein to explain his life in his own voice (up to now we’ve had Liam narrating), he is simply a blowhard. 

Aldo's secret beach?

He tells astonishing stories and it’s clear that madness is a factor weighing into the outcome. Scenes in court seem like hallucinations. His reality is one of a hypnotic attraction to desperate women, suicidal (yet considerate) people, and a host of other repellent and obnoxious images.

Awkward dialogue take the place of much needed exposition and it becomes a confusing tangle of allegations, and the introspective ravings of a bore. This section, “The Madness of the Muse”, lives up to its title.

All said, the novel features tremendous wit and a juicy repartee with the two men. Liam is intriguing as a foil to Aldo: a straight man to his comedy.  By the conclusion, seeing that Aldo’s long-term influence on Liam actually makes Liam a better man is an irresistible concept.

This is not Aldo.  It's author Steve Toltz.

In the final pages, Aldo asks Liam about that book he was writing. Liam’s response: “It’s been hard...Really hard. I mean, I’ve been working around the clock to get down an accurate cross-section of your traumas, but it’s difficult to make an underdeveloped person into a well-rounded character. I think I’ve accurately depicted how you’re critical of others yet despairing of your own unceasing self-regard, and how you don’t think so much as secrete thought…The thing is, I want to make you real. Tangible.”

Review copy courtesy of Simon and Schuster. 

Released 9/15/15.

You Will Never Find Me by Robert Wilson (Europa World Noir)

I was so disappointed with this novel. I normally love Europa Edition's World Noir series, and I've read every single one of Wilson's novels, so I was primed for a great read. Which this was not. I am going to try and explain but it's tough to describe some of the issues with it:

1. Mercy and Charles are back, and while both are complicated individuals, they act with a distinct aloofness that even extends to their daughter. When she runs away, they don't seem realistic in their actions.

2. All the remaining characters are either all bad or all good: no moral ambiguities. El Osito is evil, yet, but not much more than that. The other cops, the inevitable Russian connections, the drug dealers and the fences are all just one-dimensional and don't change at all during the book. This makes for very little tension.

3. The plot is ALL over the place geographically, which is fine, but the connections between places seem tenuous. No one misses a plane, everything runs smoothly, surely Wilson knows that never happens. No one runs out of cash, everyone meets up as planned, there's not a single wrinkle in anyone's plans.

4. Besides the Columbian drug dealers and the UK dealers making a deal (with surprisingly financial savvy even for the lower tier sellers), we have a Russian side plot that makes no sense at all. Wilson is trying to drag in the poisoned Russian spy from real life into the novel and it's too much. A side kidnapping serves no purpose to the main story of the daughter running away. Maybe it was to appear complex, but it seems like when a novel has an open spot many authors toss in a Russian and a execution to make it appear topical. Instead, it was a yawn. The entire Russian portion of this did not further the plot at all.  Additionally, the behavior of the father of this other kidnapping is just off-the-hook: he truly calls the shots and makes the police look ridiculous. HE was interesting, the rest were laughable.

5. Peripheral characters like Esme and Isabel and the Spanish detective were interesting but unexplored. I suspect the Spaniard may appear in his own series in the future.

6. Hugely emotional moments regarding life or death matters are treated with an "okay, then"reaction rather than real human behaviors.

7. Without spoilers, I have to say the final scene was completely ridiculous. It made me laugh it was so implausible and yes, corny. To the point of cheesy. It suddenly felt like a Hugh Grant movie ending.

8. Finally, most people who have watched any crime show on television know the rules: always look behind you, never leave an assumed dead body with a weapon nearby, and never stop to chat while being chased.  Yet most of the characters commit these silly mistakes repeatedly.  Gah!

Aside from this, Wilson's other novels are FAR superior.

Review copy received from Europa Editions.

The Murder of Halland by Pia Juul, translated from the Danish

Translated from the Danish by Martin Aitken

Okay…there’s the unreliable narrator. Annoying but usually enlightening. But what about a protagonist who is an unlikeable narrator? One that has you, more than once, considering tossing the book across the room? Well, meet Bess. She’s awful. Ghastly. A terrible woman in so many ways I can’t even list them all.

She’s married to Halland, who is murdered immediately as the book begins. It’s a shock, because the brief time he’s mentioned makes him seem like a decent guy. And yet, there’s the sense that we, the reader, may be grieving more than Bess. She’s a cold fish, and the first big question is, is she really just a brat or is this grief overwhelming her? She’s left her child for this man…but she worries about what her search engine may contain. She kisses her neighbor before Halland’s body is cold. She’s appalling, and yet:

"I loved reading and had always thought of it as a refuge. I even read the labels on bottles, if only to keep myself occupied on trains or in restaurants. I read in bed at night. If I lay awake for more than two minutes after switching off the light, I switched it on again to avoid lapsing into thought. To avoid thinking."

Wait. That’s exactly what I do. Can it be that I have more in common with Bess than I’d like to think? As the story unfolds, author Juul makes us ask this question over and over again. Subtly, of course. Because no one wants to admit who they are, deep inside, not even to the character in a novel. That’s what makes Bess so compelling. She’s unlikeable, but then again, so is virtually everyone in her little world. She seems to have no real connection with another human…did she even have one with Halland? While she has lovely flashbacks of him, how tainted are they by grief and how real are they? Was he as messed up as everyone else she deals with? There’s a hint that he was seriously ill…but little to tell us how long she’d been caring for him. Was she at all?

She gets many visitors, all who seem to point her to her own failures. Her ex-husband, her daughter, neighbors…all seem to show up and make her look bad. Who is the mirror and who is the reality? Why are all the reflections so skewed? Why does she say that she “experienced the world with provisos”? What holds her back? And, then again, lest it be forgotten, who killed Halland?

Pia Juul’s writing is never dull…she also throws in quotes from everyone from Eugene Ionesco to Charles Dickens to Hans Christian Anderson. The pithy little quotes fuel a mood for the chapter that they precede, and yet…are they steering the reader in the correct direction? It’s significant that she also has a quote from Agatha Christie, who would have winked at the way nearly every character mentioned could have been the killer. And is that Bess flirting with the detective again?

At one point, Bess craves the simplicity of a television crime, not real life.

"All I needed for happiness was a detective series….Simplicity was a virtue. First a murder, nothing too bestial. Then a police inspector. Insights into his or her personal problems, perhaps. Details about the victim. Puzzles and anomalies. Lines of investigations. Clues. Detours. Breakthrough. Case solved. Nothing like real life.


The puzzle attracted me—the solution left me cold. Nothing like real life."

There it is again…that perplexing bit of humanity (who hasn’t been soothed by a rerun of Law & Order or Inspector Frost??) that makes Bess almost likeable again.

Peirene Press has produced yet another startlingly sharp novel. It’s the first of theirs that I wanted to throw, that had me arguing out loud over a character's bad decisions and pouting at their lack of response, but one that immediately pulled me back in.  Who killed Halland is only one question that will arise....

Special thanks to Meike for the Review Copy.

Beauty and The Inferno by Robert Saviano (essays)

Translated from the Italian by Oonagh Stransky

"We discussed...how everything you seem to see is not the real story.  How you always end up understanding less of what is happening rather than more."

This excerpt was from a conversation between two journalists, Saviano, and the Italian legend Enzo Biagi.  Saviano's thoughts on Biagi fill a chapter in this collection of essays from Saviano's experiences as a journalist --work that would probably never be printed or aired in the United States.

First off, it's important to know that because of his work, Saviano is a wanted man.  His journalism doesn't use the typical references to "an unnamed source" or an "anonymous tip".  Instead, he fully exposes the names of organizations, politicians, and individuals that are involved with criminal activity in Italy, even if it endangers his life.  Thus he's in hiding because of tell-all stories about the mob, and the way his articles explain not only who is committing the crimes, but also the structure of power and the methods (or businesses) they use to manipulate politicians, sell drugs, or launder money.

I'm not sure the difference in legalities that allows for such focused criticism that is relatively unheard of here.  Even stating that a suspect is "alleged" is frowned upon here, whereas Italian newspapers can indicate full names and addresses.  It makes reading his essays shockingly different from what a US reader may be used to, and makes his living in hiding completely understandable.  Many times I had to pause and ask, "can he say that?"  Seriously, I would not want to be his bodyguard.

Beyond the exposure though is a real intent to educate citizens in Italy about their government and what is happening around them.  In describing Enzo Biagi, as mentioned above, parallels are seen between his goals and that of Saviano's:  "Biagi was capable of looking at fragments of the daily news.  He examined things bit by bit.  He never jumped to a solution, but always advanced slowly...He examined our daily concerns about taxes, terrorism, schools and health and used them to ask bigger questions.  He wanted to explain, freely and to spread information and make it known, but to do this with discipline and control" (127).

This is the model Saviano uses as he writes, at all times attempting to avoid both the cynicism that marks many reporters and the focus on elegance and style that detracts others.  His reporting is for ordinary people and he tries to reveal it without frills.  Like Biagi, he wants to motivate his readers to take notice, especially of the scores of unsolved deaths occurring around them:

"Can you really believe that none of this depends on you, or on your want of indignation? Do you really think that worrying about your everyday life is enough? Are you satisfied by the answers to these questions?  Does saying "I'm not doing anything wrong; I'm an honest person," allow you to feel innocent?  Can you let the news wash over you, over your soul?"

From that he describes the sixteen people who have been murdered by a mafia gang called the Casalesi who run businesses that profited more than 500 million Euros, while the rate of congenital birth defects increased 84% due to their illegal dumping of toxic waste.  Their profit equates to 7172 deaths from cancer per year.  So this lovely countryside in the South of Italy, namely around Lake Patria, has become an almost Wild-West type of region where the carabinieri and others trying to fight the criminals are threatened or killed, along with many innocents in the way.

In other essays he looks at similar issues facing the South of Italy, and at many times incorporating details of the culture of Italy, both ancient and current.  Saviano is well-read:  he references operas, plays, poetry, and literature in his writing.  The pace of the essays are fast even while the details are disheartening.  Seeing how crime is perpetuated as a business, focused on efficiency and results, is hard to accept. 

One thing that alienated me a bit at first is his Preface, where he describes his efforts to live in hiding.  It's off putting at first, as he seems to dwell on his imminent danger and how unafraid he is, given his important sacrifice.  Since I'd never heard of him, it felt like a bit of bravado instead of reality.  Yet, after I read the essays, I totally get it.  I would hide too, and I now can respect that he has made tremendous, unimaginable sacrifices in the pursuit of truth.  I just think it would have appeared better as an Epilogue than hitting the reader with all that indignation right up front.

Special thanks to Paul Engles of MacLehose Press, UK, for the Advance Review Copy.

Voices by Arnaldur Indridason

As a treat, I bought several books in the Reykjavik series by Indridason, and this week I'm goofing off with Icelandic crime.  This is an older title...Hypothermia is the most recent (I think), and one I reviewed last year. 

In Voices, the ensemble cast of three detectives is great--they all seem fully developed and competent, complementing each other's styles.  As far as the story goes, this was intriguing and fast-paced, but not particularly unusual in terms of plot.  In fact, I can't even say much about the outline without giving anything away.  Maybe I'm jaded, but I kind of knew where this was headed much earlier than any of the detectives did.  I was sort of surprised at the naivete they had that prevented them from solving the puzzle sooner.  That said, it was still an entertaining read.

Two complaints:  Eva Lind is the troubled daughter of the main detective, who is troubled in his own way after losing his brother decades before.  The interaction between the father and daughter is frustrating.  She seems incredibly whiny and childish, and he's far too patient to be for real.  While he seems to dwell on his loss for much of the book, it doesn't feel invasive.  While her self-pity is just obnoxious and less sympathetic.  I'd have loved to have seen less of her. 

The other thing is that for some reason, Iceland's unique location doesn't appear in much of the settings;  instead, Icelandic motif sweaters get a lot of mentions but not the actual geography/geology/history of the region.  Sure, almost all of the scenes take place in a hotel, where artifice reigns, yet still, I wished for more of the scenery...the George Gudni landscape that is both awe-inspiring and frightening at the same time.  Sadly, Gudni passed away recently in June, which actually inspired my seeking out this series of novels. 

 
Two sublime Gudni photos...

A Death in Summer by Benjamin Black

Good old Quirke.  The coroner/sleuth/ladies man is back to solve another puzzle.  I've read the other Dr. Quirke books by Benjamin Black, and there's just something so appealing about the Dublin city life and Dr. Quirke in it:  his mournful boozing, the earnest but misguided attempts at parenting his adult daughter, and the stream of women that never ends, despite no apparent effort on his part to attract them.  In fact, I picture him much as the detective George Gently played by Martin Shaw on the British television series Gently. 

In any case, this story involves the suspected suicide of the high-profile society member and horseman Richard Jewell.  Quirke ends up at the country estate almost immediately and assists in interviewing the widow, a striking French woman who is calm and collected despite the horror she just discovered.  As in many television shows, the medical examiner here seems more of a detective than a doctor...he pretty much leads the investigation for all purposes.  Yes, it's a bit of a stretch but Quirke is just that kind of character, one that Black (a pseudonym of author John Banville) writes well. 

Because it takes place in Ireland, there are gorgeous descriptions of country estates, drawing rooms, and endless cups of tea. As in all Black novels, many descriptions of the facets of light and dark, the penumbras of shadow play.  I noticed a new motif in this particular novel-trees are often described extensively and with a sense of purpose to the story.  It's a nice touch that makes the story feel more of a journey than a procedural.



Brit actor Martin Shaw, how I imagine Quirke

 So with all that going for it, it should be better than it is.  Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy the series and the character of Quirke is up there with Wallander for me in terms of crime fiction.  But this one disappointed me in two ways.  First, it introduces a story line about Sinclair, Quirke's assistant, and his possible relationship with Phoebe, Quirke's troubled but plucky daughter.  It's compelling, but it doesn't seem to develop-it drops off completely.  Then, there are the other characters that make up the suspects, and I felt like they were all sort of caricatures-from beginning to end, they never changed in their behavior.  Instead of developing some complexity or depth, they simply remained the same as when the story introduces them. This made predicting and solving the crime fairly easy for the reader.  Usually in a detective story, the underlying rule is 'nothing is as it seems';  yet in this one, yep, it pretty much is exactly how it seems.

And, no spoilers here, but in terms of imagination, the plot of this book has been on every other episode of Law & Order SVU.  Mental illness, homeless children, anti-Semitic hate crimes, and business corruption fill in the blanks, but the basic premise is pretty bland and predictable.  It's still an enjoyable read, as there's something strangely peaceful about the old-school sleuthing that Quirke does. 

Special thanks to Jason Leibman of Henry Holt for the Advance Review Copy. 

This title releases today, 7/5/11.

Giveaway: The Book of Happenstance, Ingrid Winterbach

This book is a translated literary fiction novel from Open Letter.  It releases June 14, 2011.  So this giveaway is for a final copy of the book and ends on that date, when I'll publish my review of the book to this website.  Hint:  it's really good so far (I'm halfway through it).

Winterbach is from South Africa, and this was originally written in Afrikaans.  Language and translation is even a theme in the novel, although technically you could call it a crime/mystery novel.

Rules:  just be a follower of this blog and leave a comment below.  Ends June 14, 9pm Pac time. US and Canada only.  Please make sure there's a way I can get ahold of you, as some entries for the last few giveaways have not had contact info.

The Dead Detective by William Heffernan

Classic old-school detective work: I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until I read this new novel from Akashic Press. I’d heard Heffernan was good, and I’m sorry I waited so long to read one of his titles. Everything about this crime novel speaks to the traditional style of ‘whodunit’ mysteries: it has an ensemble cast of police characters (the high-level brass is a bit stereotypical), an intelligent criminal, and a string of intersecting events that complicate the search for the killer. Best of it all, it has a badass detective who isn’t simply a genius, but rather a team-player with a special sensitivity for victims and with insight on human nature.

Harry Doyle is The Dead Detective, a nickname he acquired when his past caught up with his career as a policeman. As a child, his mother attempted to murder him and his brother, and only Harry was able to be resuscitated. Adopted by a policeman, he grew up with understandable hatred for his mother and a desire to help other victims. He appears to sense details that others overlook. He also has a somewhat unique ability, for an accomplished detective, to keep both superiors and underlings happy.

The case in this novel, which I hope is the beginning of a series, is about an infamous female schoolteacher, a pedophile who preyed on a teenage student. Her murder early on is mysterious, as she was supposed to be under house arrest. The location of the crime scene, as well as further murders that may be related all create a twisted web for the detectives to unravel. Harry guides a team to the solution, all the while dealing with the impending parole of his mother (who happens to be intent on finishing her work of killing Harry). This is a smart and, at times, snarky novel that makes you hope Harry Doyle reappears with another case to solve.

That said, I had a few technical difficulties with the book. Small things really, but they did distract me a bit from the narrative in a few places. One was early on when a significant witness is being questioned about her friendship with the victim. Despite the detective's focus, she never asks what or if anything happened to her friend, which didn’t ring true. It seems that at that moment, her response would have been to ask what was going on. Her lack of curiosity struck me as 'off'. The other problem I had was an element of foreshadowing that became too obvious-the author repeats, quite often, that the murderer could be right amongst them. Too much information, and I’m not sure why the novel needed that not-so-subtle clue.  In any case, these distractions are not significant enough to ruin a really great crime story.

Thanks to Zach and Johanna of Akashic Press for the Review Copy.

While this book officially releases October 1, it is for sale at numerous retailers now.

The Canal by Lee Rourke

Flat-screen monitors, an old park bench, the "Park Crew", suicide bombers, swans, an Airbus A320, an Audi TT 225, an unknown woman at a funeral, boredom...

All of these things factor together to make The Canal by Lee Rourke a fascinating glimpse into boredom.  How can boredom be interesting?  Don't we avoid it?  The unnamed narrator has left his job, spending his days ruminating on life on an old bench near a canal in downtown London.  It's not the most scenic location:  dirty water, a roving gang, commuters, and the occasional coot or swan may pass nearby, but no one seems to sit.  Until him.

As he sits, he imagines the lives of the people who, quite literally, cross his path and he reflects on his own experiences.  Having the freedom to just sit is something he's not used to:  "it's the power of everyday boredom that compels people to do things-even if that something is nothing."  He notices that all the efforts to avoid boredom, usually in order to be more productive or to entertain, never really accomplish anything.  It is 'found' time, an appreciation for not filling every moment, that makes time more meaningful for him.  And this he does, spending more and more time at the canal.    It is only after the pace of his life has slowed that the really exciting and life-changing events begin to happen.  But this is no new-age inspirational story.  What he discovers are terrible crimes and intentional cruelties, all tied together by acts done out of boredom.

"I've often thought that we seek reality in places and not in ourselves....We need things, extra things that help us to make sense of it all;  we need the space where things can happen, where these spaces become a thing-it is only at that point, when space becomes a thing to us, that we truly feel real."  The narrator considers the nature of time as an object, one to be treasured.  The different characters he meets are similarly lost, filling up time without understanding that their actions are actually just throwing it away.  "It baffles me why people are so obsessed with trying to fill this time with holidays, cars, designer clothes, technology, energetic sports, et cetera.  Why would they want time to pass by quickly?...Those who bemoan the speedy passing of time at the end of their life are surely those same people who tried to fill it up with things to quicken its passing anyway, aren't they?"

The novel is brief:  we know little about the narrator's appearance, home, or prior job.  He doesn't even have a cell phone.  We know small details about his family but the impression is that he doesn't see them.  He's a complicated figure:  he is fascinated by flight, admiring the planes descending into Heathrow, and yet he's nearly motionless himself.  Throughout the remainder of the story, the concepts of time and flight intersect, and the denouement finds both fractured.  The effect is complex and mysterious and one of those rare books that may yield more insight by being read again.

Special thanks to Megan Halpern of Melville House for the Review Copy.

Elegy for April, Benjamin Black, Dublin Noir

Crime fiction has no shortage of brooding crime-solvers, and it’s usually their vices and complications that make them so memorable. In Benjamin Black’s new novel, Elegy for April, the “facilitator” is Dr. Quirke, a pathologist who doesn’t investigate crimes as much as he observes the key players and encourages them to talk and communicate until the mystery is revealed. His perception and the way he moves people is the key to the solution, rather than typical detective techniques. Dr. Quirke is one of the most memorable characters I’ve run across lately, and this novel is an engaging read that constantly offers surprises and complications.


The biggest surprise to me is that it is not politically correct: Quirke is a raging alcoholic and the book begins with him leaving his treatment center, and he manages a few hours of sobriety. His drinking is stupendous, with blackouts and all, and yet the author doesn’t try and preach anything from it nor romanticize it. It’s a refreshing change that makes Quirke’s character that much more sympathetic. Other complications in his life, such as his relationship with his daughter and several women, also demonstrate conflict without resolution. He clearly doesn’t have all the answers, yet he’s able to help solve the disappearance of April with subtle questions.

Several things really struck me about this book, clearly an example of Dublin Noir. Sure, there’s rain in most of those style books, but Elegy for April features rain, sleet, mist, hoarfrost, fog, and drizzle. Black uses these weather features to illustrate twists to the plot and factors in the mystery, without ever getting cutesy or formulaic. Additionally, many scenes feature characters looking in or looking out of windows, and the symbolism of introspection and separation from the outside world is clear. This aspect of the main characters is especially telling, yet done subtly.

Lastly, the other symbolism in the story is the archetypical meanings of black and white, light and dark. Characters step into shadow, out of bright rooms, into shadowed corridors, under bright streetlights, and into gloomy booths. The contrasts between the light and dark are intertwined with the story and it creates an air of tension and suspense. Quirke himself uses the analogy of an ocean to observe:

“All around lay the surface of the ocean, seeming all that there is to see and know, in calm or tempest, while, underneath, lay a wholly other world of things, hidden, with other kinds of creatures, flashing darkly in the deeps.”

If this were ever made into a movie, I'd hope they’d film it in black and white to keep the feel and mood of it united. It’s set apart from other mysteries because much is left unresolved, as happens in real life. My only critique of it was that it ended rather abruptly after a tense buildup through the greater part of the book. I think I simply didn’t want to let go of the mood and characters. Altogether though, I enjoyed this and intend to seek out Black’s earlier books that feature Dr. Quirke.

Special thanks to Jason Liebman of Henry Holt and Company for the Advanced Review Copy. 

Giveaway! The Man from Beijing by Henning Mankell 2010

In honor of the Scandinavian Reading Challenge below, I'm doing a giveaway of a fantastic new crime thriller by a Scandinavian author, Henning Mankell.  The title of the hardcover is THE MAN FROM BEIJING and it's a wild ride.  To read the review, you can click on the link on the left column under "previously reviewed books".  This giveaway is to encourage visitors to join the Scandinavian Readers Challenge (scroll down for details).

The rules:
To enter, you must be a follower, and leave a comment to this post that you are interested in the giveaway.  Please add your email or a way to contact you if you win.  One entry per comment. To up your chances of winning, consider the following options:

• If you join the Scandinavian Reading Challenge, you get an extra entry (total 2).
• If you link to the Scandinavian Reading Challenge on your blog and promote it somehow by mentioning it, you get an extra 3 entries. (just send me a link)
• If you copy my entire post regarding the Challenge with all the details and refer it back to my blog, you get an extra 4 entries.  (just send me a link)
• If you leave a comment in the comment box with your favorite Scandinavian author or title, you get an extra 2 entries.

I anticipate alot of interest as this title is hot right now.  Email me if you have any questions.  Ones who have already signed up for the Challenge are already entered in the giveaway.

On April 7, 2010, a random generator will select a winner.  Additionally, another Scandinavian title will be offered as a giveaway next week, so stay tuned!

I hope this isn't too complicated!

The Man from Beijing, Henning Mankell

Can hate be hereditary? Does our DNA include code for revenge? Reading The Man from Beijing is likely to make you ponder these very questions. Mankell’s novel is a first rate thriller that goes beyond mystery into incredible historical narratives. It spans three continents (Europe, Asia and North America) and several generations, travelling from remote villages in China to the U.S. and the building of the rail lines of the West.

The novel starts with the grisly discovery of 19 dead bodies in a remote village in Sweden. The eerie crime introduces us to a three unique female characters: a detective working the case, a federal judge from Skane and a Communist Party member from Beijing. All three are linked in the complicated puzzle of the crime, one that originates more than 100 years before the murders.

The pace is brisk, the writing lean and the plot complex. At times I needed to pause and mentally regroup, just to get my bearings. This isn’t a quick or easy read because the author digs far deeper into historical details than most novels. Much of the story relates to experiences of men who have a little authority and who use it to demean and debase others. Additionally, there is no place for CSI style details in this, as the details of police work lie in the background behind the incredible story.

I really appreciated Mankell’s writing style because it didn’t get tied up in unnecessary details. He focuses on the narrative but also on the complex relationships between marriage mates and the inevitable changes that occur in friendships over time. The three prominent women are all powerful characters and do not show the typical neediness or passive aggressive tendencies that are sometimes portrayed alongside a strong will.

The only hesitation I felt in reading this was from a baffling string of terribly unlikely events that led to finding evidence and to solving elements of the crime. A few of these stretched any sense of realism away and left me disoriented, especially considering how well thought out the plot is. All in all, it’s a worthy read but requires a commitment and time to absorb the details of the various time periods presented.

Special thanks to Lauren Helman of Knopf for this Advanced Readers Copy.