The Silent Patient is a 5-star psychological thriller. It’s the story of a British psychotherapist who becomes fascinated with a woman, Alicia Berenson, who ostensibly murdered her husband by shooting him in the face five times, and then refused to speak a word in her own defense. Naturally, she was convicted and incarcerated in a mental institution, where she continued to maintain her silence. Theo Faber, the protagonist, gets a job at the institution where she’s locked up, and becomes her therapist, obsessed with getting her speaking agin. The book is written in a first person POV from Theo’s perspective, interspersed with entries from Alicia’s diary. The interplay between Theo and Alicia is well-done, and this is no mean feat, seeing that she remains silent for most of the book. The other characters are all well-drawn, even the minor ones. The plot is cohesive, and while I did figure out the final twist before it was revealed, it was artfully concealed, yet logical. The chapters are short, which makes for a quick read.
Stripper! was a great murder mystery involving the heroine Nattie McMasters. Nattie seems to be like all young wannabe detectives and is good at getting her nose in places she shouldn’t. Nattie meets a girl at the college, Becca, and before she knows it, she’s wrapped up so tightly in a whirlwind of murder, spying and stripping. Nattie really is an interesting character and Burns does a great job of introducing each character. Each character introduced to the plot was very aptly described and you could get a feel for what the character was going to provide. Sometimes it turned out to be a complete surprise! I enjoyed the book and am interested in Nattie’s future adventures.
I’ve been reading Jonathan Kellerman’s Alex Delaware series since 1985, when I discovered When the Bough Breaks. It’s been a great ride, and the venerable Kellerman shows no signs of losing it with this latest installment. Unlike some of the other books in the series, this one is a bit understated-it’s just a straightforward investigation into the murder of an unknown woman at a Hollywood wedding. Not that that’s a bad thing. The story really highlights the relationship between Det. Milo Sturgis and Delaware, who’ve been friends for quite a long time. Also unlike some of the other Delaware books, there are no really shocking moments in this story. The chain of events emerges piecemeal from persistence and good, solid investigative technique. The villain is satisfyingly evil, and his motivations believable. If I have a complaint, it’s the treatment of Delaware’s longtime companion, Robin. She’s been with Alex even longer than Milo, and they’ve had their ups and downs-she even left him for a while at one point in the series. But after she returned, she became pure cardboard. All of the nuances so evident in Alex’s and Milo’s relationship are absent in Alex’s and Robin’s. She comes on stage to provide Alex with food or sex, then vanishes. This was annoying enough for me to dock The Wedding Guest one star.
Natalie McMasters is a private investigator trainee and the narrator of this emotional, terror-steeped and frank novel of love, loss, desperation, enslavement and retribution. She’s good at surveillance, patient, calm and alert. She hasn’t had much training or experience in developing projects that consider all possible events and outcomes, so she travels on grit and instinct. She’s married, to a young Latino lady who is in the states illegally and thus has no standing with ICE. When ICE comes looking, Lupe runs, leaving a distraught Natalie to wonder about the future. Natalie’s decision, after very little consideration is to go looking for Lupe. The trail leads to New York where Natalie becomes tangled with city law enforcement, a gaggle of street people, a detective from her hometown, and finally, an evil band of Albanian sex traffickers. This explicitly written novel starts slowly and ramps up to a frenetic pace almost immediately as Natalie and her detective friend wander through some of the seamier sections of New York and encounter interesting characters on both sides of the law. Scenes are well developed and often gripping in substance. The author captures a good sense of the scenes and characters in the city and on the Albanian’s ship, in a very adult and explicit fashion.
The Disappearing is a mystery set in a town in northern Florida. Young women are vanishing, no one knows why. Is it nefarious, or just girls being girls?
The Disappearing struck me as more of a character study than a story. Told from multiple POVs, it moved at a glacial pace. Rather than building suspense, this writing style served to mask the true chain of events with the irrelevancies inherent in the stream-of-consciousness of unreliable narrators, which for me, resulted in a loss of interest in the overall plot. However, the characters were truly deep and artfully drawn. I just didn’t like them well enough to remain interested in their deepest thoughts.
Michael Connelly has done it again! Trunk Music, the 5th Harry Bosch novel, has everything that Connelly is famous for. Complex characters. An intricate plot. Setting as character. Twists and turns. Harry Bosch continues to grow as a hero, with all of his foibles and flaws. One of Connelly’s great strengths is his ability to provide half a dozen perfectly reasonable explanations for the same chain of events, getting the reader to buy into one of them before tearing it down and selling the reader on another. And another. And another! Don’t miss this book.
The Guardians is a typical John Grisham novel. That is to say, it is well-written and the legal acumen is superb. This book is the story of a storefront legal office in Savannah that scours the prisons for innocent inmates – not only innocent, but who have a decent chance of exoneration by a group of limited manpower and means. The protagonist is Cullen Post of Guardian Ministries, a lawyer who is also an Episcopal priest. He takes on a client, Quincy Miller, who was railroaded on a murder charge in a corrupt Florida town and has been languishing in prison for over twenty years. As the story commences, it becomes known that there are still some bad guys around who would like to keep Miller in jail and the murder case closed. So an atmosphere of danger has been established. The book faithfully chronicles Post’s investigation of Miller’s case, which takes him back and forth across the southeastern US, where he meets many interesting and well-drawn characters. In the early stages of the investigation, no one outside of Miller and Guardian Ministries even knows someone is looking into the case, so the impending sense of doom is still present, but not imminent. However, Post knows that at some point, the people who engineered Miller’s conviction will become aware of Guardian’s activities, and consequences may ensue. The climax comes in an unexpected manner about two-thirds of the way through, but then Post and Guardian get the almighty FBI involved, who bring the bad guys are swiftly to heel. So the last third of the book is simply a detailed account of Miller’s exoneration (a foregone conclusion by now), which isn’t really very suspenseful. Grisham has had a problem with endings since he began writing, and he can also become immersed in the legal details that he knows so well, at the expense of the story. That’s why I’ve docked the book a star. However, the Guardians is still a fascinating read, well worth the time.
American Dirt is one of the best novels I have read. It’s realistic, poignant, beautifully written and well-researched. It’s the story of an affluent Mexican woman from Acapulco who is driven from he home when her family is massacred by a drug cartel, because her husband, a journalist, wrote a newspaper article about a local drug lord. The woman, Lydia, and her eight-year old son Luca find themselves a part of the great horde of migrants making their way to the United States in search of a better life. Along the way, they meet many memorable characters, most good, some evil. Most importantly, I gained a deep and lasting appreciation of the migrant experience. American Dirt has been pilloried by some in the media who think that the author did not have the qualifications to write it, i.e., she is not Mexican, not a migrant, and did not live the experience herself. This is extremely wrong-headed. Ms. Cummins has done a great service for Mexican, Central American and South American migrants by popularizing their tragic experiences, much as John Steinbeck did for American tenant farmers during the dust bowl in Grapes of Wrath, and Herman Wouk for victims of the Holocaust in Winds of War. One does not have to be a member of an ethnic group to empathize with its members or accurately recount their experiences-basic humanity and a talent for writing and research is all that’s required. The book has also been criticized for fictionalizing a great tragedy of our times, but the novelist Ayn Rand knew that popular fiction is often a much more effective means of promoting social change than mere journalism is. The author has been accused of stereotyping Mexicans, but all I found here were well-drawn, complex characters. I verified her research continuously as I read the book, and I found no inaccuracies, from the destruction of the beautiful city of Acapulco by the cartels, the pestilence of gangs and warlords haunting the Mexican highways, or the horrors of riding La Bestia, the freight trains that carry the migrants on top of them, between borders. I was particularly heartened by Cummins’ descriptions of the services provided for migrants by ordinary Mexicans, who donate food, water, shelter and support to them in sympathy with their plight. Of course, some may say that my opinion is invalid, because I am not Mexican. But I say kudos to Ms. Cummis for her bravery, which is already resulting in unjust repudiation. No book is perfect, including this one. The story did lag in places due to over-description. And perhaps Ms Cummins should have chosen a more plebian tragedy that caused her protagonist to be uprooted, although the murder of journalists, law enforcement and government official by cartels is rampant in Mexico. But these are minor quibbles about a very great and important book.
Where the Crawdads Sing is an excellent book, but it could have been better. The author’s expertise as a naturalist really shines throughout it, but sometimes, things get lost in that light. The novel is many things — a coming of age story, a murder mystery, a commentary on human relationships in a small town, and a lyrical description of life in eastern North Carolina — and perhaps, the author tried to do a little too much. There are times that her descriptive passages obscure the plot, causing me to gloss over passages that maybe I shouldn’t have to, to get to the meat of the story. And as a North Carolina resident, I found inconsistencies. Owens has her characters traveling to Asheville quite a bit. Sometimes there is a solid reason for this, but sometimes it’s just to visit a city. Problem is, Asheville is just about the furthest NC city (7-8 hours, by car) that they could choose — there are many closer alternatives. Owens occasionally writes in dialect, but the dialects in Crawdads are not those I’ve heard spoken in that part of North Carolina – nowhere did I find a trace of the Elizabethan “hoi toider” speech commpn to that area. I also thought that the story ended quite abruptly – I would have appreciated more time with a middle-aged and older Marsh Girl. Lest you put these criticisms down to mere quibbling, I still think the novel is exceptional, but I also think the points mentioned above justify docking it one star. Read this book. You will be doing yourself a great injustice if you don’t.
There are many reasons to like The Quaker. Chief among them are the meticulous descriptions of Scotland, Glasgow, and Scottish life and culture. I also greatly enjoyed the Scottish dialect throughout the book. The novel also does a good job of reflecting the frustration that law enforcement officials must feel when an investigation proves intractable. It also depicted how random events can be construed as important, and how this can further obfuscate things. However, I docked The Quaker a star because I felt that the police were portrayed as a little too unobservant, and the facts that the protagonist uncovered to solve the case arose a little too conveniently. Nevertheless, I think Liam McIlvanney deserves kudos for his work, and that my reading this novel was time well spent.
