02 December 2019

Books: The Silver Pigs By Lindsey Davis (1989)



"When Marcus Didius Falco, a Roman 'informer' who has a nose for trouble that's sharper than most, encounters Sosia Camillina in the Forum, he senses immediately all is not right with the pretty girl. She confesses to him that she is fleeing for her life, and Falco makes the rash decision to rescue her—a decision he will come to regret. For Sosia bears a heavy burden: as heavy as a pile of stolen Imperial ingots, in fact. Matters just get more complicated when Falco meets Helena Justina, a Senator's daughter who is connected to the very same traitors he has sworn to expose. Soon Falco finds himself swept from the perilous back alleys of Ancient Rome to the silver mines of distant Britain—and up against a cabal of traitors with blood on their hands and no compunction whatsoever to do away with a snooping plebe like Falco."

The first Flaco book offers a trove of history about Roman times, but the mystery part –the murder of a young woman and theft of silver- is not particularly gripping or even interesting. Being the first in a long running series, The Silver Pigs would’ve stopped me from reading any further back in 1989 when the book was released. However, sometimes these books don’t come out fully formed and I would be willing to give Lindsey Davis the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps I should’ve started somewhere else?

I mean, she gives Falco a glib tongue, which generally works in most detective series. But I found Davis concentrating too much on historical aspects that, while far from dull, do slow down her narrative. And I also realize that Davis reconfigured her original idea of a novel about Vespasian –the Roman emperor from 69–79, the fourth, and last, in the Year of the Four Emperors- and his lover Antonia Caenis into a historical whodunnit because she could not find a publisher for her original idea, but at times those two genres seemed to battle for control. I wanted a mystery, I got a history lesson.

I’ve acquired two other Lindsey Davis books, which I’ll try to get to in 2020.

16 November 2019

Books: Jimmy the Kid By Donald E. Westlake (1974)


 
Andy Kelp thinks he’s stumbled on to the perfect caper for John Dortmunder. He’s read a book called "Child Heist" by Richard Stark that tells the story of a criminal called Parker and his gang who kidnap and ransom off a kid. Dortmunder is a thief, a burglar, not a kidnapper and does not take to Kelp’s idea at first (if only because he’s the brains of their gang and hates the idea using someone else’s plans). However, May, John’s  incessantly smoking girlfriend, eventually convinces him it can work, despite their recent track record. Deciding to follow the plan laid out in Stark’s book, Dortmunder and his caper buddies seek out and locate a rich kid to nab. Naturally, things go horribly and hilariously wrong from that first step.

While Jimmy the Kid is Donald E. Westlake’s modern (for 1974) reworking of the O. Henry’s The Ransom of Red Chief, in a roundabout way, Westlake sort of admitted that real inspiration for this third book in his Dortmunder series may have been the 1953 Lionel White novel The Snatchers. While Westlake’s novel and White’s are completely different books, with different scenarios and endings, they share some of the same DNA, apparently. And of those similarities, though, has nothing to do with John Dortmunder, but the main character of Cal Dent in The Snatchers may have inspired Richard Stark’s Parker character (who was, of course, created by Donald E. Westlake).

It’s a good bet as well, that in 1974, no one knew that Westlake was Richard Stark, so the idea that Westlake was using an unpublished (and non-existent) Stark novel (called Child Heist) for the premise of Jimmy the Kid made for a meta moment (even if that word did not exist then). It was also that year that Westlake had made a decision to end writing the Parker novels with the sixteenth novel novel, Butcher’s Moon (maybe writing in Parker’s nihilistic universe was having adverse effects on Westlake health? He would return, though, to the character in 1997 and release 8 more books in that series under the Richard Stark pen name, with the last one released only 8 months before his death in 2008). Jimmy the Kid contains three chapters featuring Parker, so any Stark fan would’ve been delighted to find these snippets in a humorous caper novel. And author Richard Stark has a special appearance at the end of the book where he writes a letter to his lawyer that a movie based on the events of Jimmy the Kid are a rip off from the plot of his book, Child Heist (again, meta much?).

Out of the first three John Dortmunder (Hot Rocks, Bank Job), Jimmy the Kid could be the weakest. It’s funny, but it sometimes falls into too much slapstick. The kid is a bit obnoxious, but to be honest, in the 45 years since its publication, the kids antics are not that bad –Jimmy could be a template for the Home Alone franchise (he’s just not that cartoonishy violent), though. The plot is rather clever, but for many long-time fans of Richard Stark, the real charm of this book is seeing the juxtaposition of Parker’s thriller universe mashed with John Dortmunder’s comic bad luck world. It works only because Westlake is that good and even a weak Dortmunder book is better than 52 books a year James Patterson “writes.”

Incidentally, there was a film version of Jimmy the Kid released in late 1982 (though made in 1981). It starred Paul Le Mat, Ruth Gordon, Dee Wallace (made before ET, but released after it), Cleavon Little, Pat Morita, Don Adams, and Gary Coleman as Jimmy. I watched it on Youtube and it’s a pretty horrible film. It takes the basic premise of Westlake’s novel, some set pieces, but mainly trashes and changes everything else. While everyone’s performances are fine, the addition of Don Adams Harry Walker (who for some reasons also narrates) as a bumbling detective in the vein of his Get Smart role makes an unfunny film even unfunnier. These film versions are why a lot of authors hate selling their books to Hollywood.

10 November 2019

Books: Monster of the Week by F.T. Lukens (2019)



“Spring semester of Bridger Whitt's senior year of high school is looking great. He has the perfect boyfriend, a stellar best friend, and an acceptance letter to college. He also has this incredible job as an assistant to Pavel Chudinov, an intermediary tasked with helping cryptids navigate the modern world. His days are filled with kisses, laughs, pixies, and the occasional unicorn. Life is awesome. But as graduation draws near, Bridger's perfect life begins to unravel. Uncertainties about his future surface, his estranged dad shows up out of nowhere, and, perhaps worst of all, a monster-hunting television show arrives in town to investigate the series of strange events from last fall. The show's intrepid host will not be deterred, and Bridger finds himself trapped in a game of cat and mouse that could very well put the myth world at risk. Again.”

In the sequel to The Rules and Regulations For Mediating Myths and Magic, author F.T. Lukens Monster of the Week continues the quirky, often funny weird life of Bridger Whitt. Still, while as good and readable as the first book, MOW does not reinvent the formula, but Lukens is able to poke fun at reality TV series that air on cable (like Monster V Man came to mind) and remind everyone that lives of teenagers in modern life is just as complicated as always. Bridger remains a well developed character, a wisecracking, smart-mouth teen who still has a ton of insecurities –especially with his burgeoning relationship with Leo- but who can mistakes. 

The book has a lot of subplots (which becomes a problem as the book goes on), but the main story involves Summer Lore (which I hoped was not her real name, but a stage name due to her series. It just too much of convenience for me) and her desire to prove that the myth world was real and not just some careful editing, crafty camera tricks, and open ended questions. She’s not very three dimensional, but she is the “villain” of the story. And if there is one drawback to the book, is because Lukens spends a huge amount of time dealing with Bridger’s family problems, issues with the LGBT, and the end of his time in High School, the Summer Lore aspect gets the short stick here.

While the universe of this book series is great for teens who are LGBT –everyone supports and loves bisexual Bridger and gay Leo (along with a few lesbian characters)- it does not shy away from Bridger’s fathers homophobia when learning his 18 year-old son is in a relationship with another male. I could’ve done with more meat to this part of the story –Dad is portrayed realistic I think- but at least Lukens didn’t resolve Bridger and his Dad’s relationship in any easy way. 

I get the impression that this will be the last book, but I hope Lukens decides to continue writing new stories for Bridger and his friends. There was already a Scooby-Doo vibe to these two books, but with everyone heading off to college, it might be fun to see them become a full Scooby gang.

28 October 2019

Books: Going Dutch By James Gregor (2019)




“Exhausted by dead-end forays in the gay dating scene, surrounded constantly by friends but deeply lonely in New York City, and drifting into academic abyss, twenty-something graduate student Richard has plenty of sources of anxiety. But at the forefront is his crippling writer’s block, which threatens daily to derail his graduate funding and leave Richard poor, directionless, and desperately single. Enter Anne: his brilliant classmate who offers to ‘help’ Richard write his papers in exchange for his company, despite Richard’s fairly obvious sexual orientation. Still, he needs her help, and it doesn’t hurt that Anne has folded Richard into her abundant lifestyle. What begins as an initially transactional relationship blooms gradually into something more complex. But then a one-swipe-stand with an attractive, successful lawyer named Blake becomes serious, and Richard suddenly finds himself unable to detach from Anne, entangled in her web of privilege, brilliance, and, oddly, her unabashed acceptance of Richard’s flaws. As the two relationships reach points of serious commitment, Richard soon finds himself on a romantic and existential collision course—one that brings about surprising revelations."


As someone who sort of likes being alone and also sort of knows he'll be alone for the rest of his life, James Gregor's debut novel Going Dutch offers a contemplative look into the dating scene that encompasses the gay community in New York City (which may make this book more a regional tale than a broad one). Some people don't want to be alone, that they need someone in their life to make them feel whole. For young adults, those in their early twenties, they get depressed when life pushes longtime friends out of the inner circle they've had for years. And we've all experienced this in some fashion, as we grow older, go out into the world after college, friends and even family members are flung to the four corners of the world and slowly (though, sometimes quickly) these people drift out of our lives. This scares many. It seems to scare the main character in this uneven novel.

I want to say that the reason it took me a whole month to read a 337 page book was because of depression, that I had no motivation or desire to read because it was too much work (well, partly that it true). But truthfully, as well, I just feel I should complete a book I read, even if I found every character in this book unlikable, including the main protagonist (again, this another New York thing?). Richard is manipulative human, a pathological liar and sad soul caught up in problems of his own making. Yes, he suffers from writer's block, but that does not excuse what he eventually does when things unwind.  Some can say that Gregor has decided to upset the apple cart and not follow the usual route these romantic dramedies go, that Richard's moodiness, the constantly confused state in which he lives in is more realistic. That may explain the restlessness he has, his selfish ways, along with being caught up in a three-way love triangle.

We've seen this plot before, though, and while Gregor offers a bit of psychological insight into loneliness that many gay men have, I found he offered little in the way of answers or even attempts at answers. Richard's unrequited love for Patrick and his inability to express that love is the backbone of many tales like this, as well. Yes, Richard's relationship with Anne complicates things, and Richard seems (arrogantly) to stay with her because she offers security and money –something he wants above anything else. But Anne is just as blind to reality as Richard is which I found a bit odd, especially coming from academics.

The real reason I slogged through was I liked the way Gregor writes, he's great at deconstructing emotions, and he can be witty, but yeah, this book just didn't work for me in the end. And maybe, just maybe, this book is just way too New York City for anyone whose never lived there.