Some books I read: Michael Connelly, Mack Bolan, David Markson, Patrick Modiano, Lee Goldberg et al.

After completing my book on Finnish Westerns, I decided to take a little break and read anything I just wanted to read, not anything I had to read. I'd been quite worn out by the Finnish Westerns many of which were not very good and I wanted something that could grip me and entertain the hell out of me. Usually this happens in a vertical position - I read on a sofa. I once thought I'd read in a chair, but doesn't seem to be the case.

I often find comfort in the work of Michael Connelly, and The Drop proved no exception (Luottamuksen hinta in Finnish). Harry Bosch is a very likable character in his grumpiness and Connelly plots like a master - I still find it very distracting that he said he doesn't plot beforehand, he just makes it up as he writes and corrects afterwards. But The Drop was too long, only because Connelly decides to explain some of the things that are taking place or Bosch or the other cops are doing, I don't know if this has something to do with the American readers - do publishers think they are stupid and make their authors put all these explanations in their books? I mean I can do fine with less facts, less explaining. Still, The Drop was entertaining. Should reread some of Connelly's earlier novels, stuff like Trunk Music and City of Bones is cracking good.

I also read some e-books on my Kindle. I don't have a credit card and I have to rely on books that can be loaded free from Amazon. Luckily I have quite a few Facebook friends who like to post about such things, and I have a pretty good collection of newish indie noir and western stuff, with a bit of new pulp thrown in. I read one short story by Lawrence Block ("Like a Thief in the Night", supposed to be published in Playboy, but never came out, exquisite story telling) and two novels and one novella of which short reviews have to suffice:

Lee Goldberg: My Gun Has Bullets (originally published as by Ian Ludlow): hilarious, occasionally too hilarious Hollywood-cum-crime romp. Westlake on speed, one might say.

Jake Bible: Z-Burbia: mediocre zombie novel that's too reminiscent on The Walking Dead, but some nice touches here and there and a likable narrator, also with some seriously nasty characters some of whom turn out to be so nasty after all. The book starts well, but starts to lag soon. Finished it nevertheless, the climax was better.

Rob Hart: The Last Safe Place: another zombie story, in novella length, but actually quite atmospheric and with a clever twist. Hart seems to come highly recommended by the noir gang.

The third novel I read on my Kindle is worth more wordage. I've never cared much for the Mack Bolan series. I found Don Pendleton's original novels lacking plot and character, just endless killings after endless killings. I'd never read any of the new ones written by other writers and when I was suffering a fit of gastroentritis, I thought I'd give it a try. I had a book called Arctic Kill on my Kindle, and it was written by one Joshua Reynolds - of course not the painter, but a new writer mostly concentrating on neo-pulp and pastiches of Conan Doyle and other Victorian and pulp writers. This shows in Arctic Kill, and I think Reynolds uses here the same neo-Nazi conspiracy he has created for his more pulp-related writing. This is by no means great literature, but I found Arctic Kill quite enjoyable on its own terms. Reynolds keeps the story racing along, though he's a bit wordy. There's certainly no character development in Arctic Kill, but there's a solid plot, which was missing from the Pendleton Bolans I'd read previously. Might even read another Mack Bolan by Reynolds. I hear Harlequin killed recently its Gold Eagle line that focused mainly on the Bolans, which is a pity.

I also read the latest Finnish translation by the 2014 Nobel prize winner Patrick Modiano (So You Don't Get Lost in the Neighbourhood in Enligsh). If you're in the mood for some melancholic mystery, Modiano is your man, though he's no crime writer. There's still not much differentiating him from the likes of Sebastian Japrisot or other French crime novelists of the 1950's and 1960's. Should be reading more of that stuff. I realized reading this that Modiano possibly affected my short novel on Lovecraft in Hollywood, called Haamu ("Ghost"). The same short sentences, the same melancholy feel are there.

Ernesto Sábato's The Tunnel also belongs to the same category: a literary novel that could be seen as a crime novel. Originating from 1948, this novel by the Argentine writer is dark psychological suspense about a sociopathic artist who torments a young lady, whom he sees as his lover. It's not surprising this has been compared to Camus's The Outsider.

More on the artsy side was also David Markson's Reader's Block (1996) that was recently translated in Finnish for the first time, as Lukijan luomislukko. Markson had another foot in the world of pulp, as he wrote three beatnik private eye paperbacks in the early sixties and also a Western novel called The Ballad of Dingus Magee (later turned into a film, which I haven't seen). Reader's Block is no pulp, though, it's a collection of fragments snatched from other books, including trivia on how famous and not so famous writers have died. It's a fascinating read, though not for everyone obviously. It's quite light, though, and I found it pretty hypnotizing. There's also a quote in which Markson (or his narrator or narratee) says that John D. MacDonald was a better writer than Saul Bellow! I've never really liked MacDonald, so I don't know, but the quote cracked me up nevertheless.

After Markson and Modiano I thought I should get back to work and work-related reading. I decided still to dip into Bill Pronzini's Games of which I'd heard good things. And it proved to be a pretty good and suspenseful thriller, though the ending was a bit of a let-down and misogynistic at that. But then again, noir and hardboiled are full of misogyny. Still glad I finally read the book.

Now I'm reading a Zane Grey and thinking I really should get back to work. It's just that after a large body of work it's hard to concentrate on other books, not really knowing what to focus on. I have some news coming up, so stay tuned!

PS. I realize after posting this that all the authors I read were male. Oh well, have to remedy that.

The crime fiction issue of the Human Journal

Seems interesting, at least the lengthy interview with Michael Connelly. There's also an article about John P. Marquand's Mr. Moto series. Check it out here!

By the way, I got this link from one of Sarah Weinman's delightfully informative posts on her The Crime Lady e-mail list. Do subscribe to it here! 

Michael Connelly: Echo Park

I've been having a vacation and reading all sorts of books and graphic novels (I really liked Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere, which I'd never read), but it seems I'm running out of time to read all the books I meant to. I'm blaming Dean Koontz, whose Watchers I've been reading. It's a pretty good horror thriller, but it's too long! (I'll get back to the book shortly, once I've finished it.)

But Michael Connelly's Echo Park (2006; Sokkelokuja in Finnish) I finished with ease. Connelly is real comfort reading to me, and I don't mind saying that, since he's also always got some edge in his books. Connelly handles his dark materials (sic) easily but with verve, and his writing is smooth and simple without being simplistic. He's not a great stylist like Chandler or a great innovator like Ellroy, but he does very well what he does. His plots are also intricate and they involve some deep stuff without being heavy-handed or didactic.

Echo Park isn't one of the best Connellys (the plot is a bit too straightforward), but I still liked the heck out of it. I'm not so fond of Connelly's Terry McCaleb or Mickey Haller books, but Harry Bosch is a favourite. I remember when I interviewed Connelly and he said he's always imagined Donald Sutherland as the film version of Bosch. This may seem weird, but not long ago I watched Claude Chabrol's rarely-seen Ed McBain film Blood Relatives with Donald Sutherland. He's very good and convincing as McBain's Steve Carella, who's a blueprint for all the film cops. I can see him as Bosch, no problem.

By the way, it was nice to see both Duane Swierczynski and Sarah Weinman being Tuckerized in Echo Park.

Culture-oriented Sunday

Vow! I want more days like this! I had a most culture-oriented Sunday and I felt it was just what I needed. Not much of it was work-related, but maybe it was only for the good.

I saw two films: The Falcons (1970) by the Hungarian István Gaál and The Dark Mirror (1946) by Robert Siodmak. We also viewed the last week's episode of Six Feet Under that I had taped. On top of that, I was able to finish The Lincoln Lawyer. I also had time to start a new book, T. Jefferson's Parker California Girl.

The Falcons was a truly compelling film, something which the theaters don't show anymore. It's a film about training falcons and the best way to interpret the film is to see it as a political satire, with falcons representing the spies and snitches working inside the Communist system and praying on the ordinary citizens (which are symbolized by herons and magpies). The film trusted on the spectator to understand the symbolism and didn't give out any information on the characters and why they were doing what they were doing. There's only one scene in the film that says that falcon farm is owned by state. Other than that, it's just a falcon farm in the middle of Hungarian pusta plains. Strangely compelling and quietly rewarding.

The Dark Mirror, on the other hand, was a nice little film noir from the early-to-middle years in the noir cycle, about identical twins who are played by Olivia de Havilland. The tricks were very good, and so was de Havilland. The plot was a bit forced and the outcome was pretty obvious, even though I had some doubts in the middle as I was hoping for some twists. The ending was forcedly happy, but the photography was very good and there's always something very intriguing about the early noir's fascination with double identities and mirror personalities.

The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly has been hailed as one of Connelly's best, but I wouldn't say so. It was pretty cool and detached for Connelly, whose series characters, Harry Bosch and Terry Caleb, are quite hotheaded and deeply involved in their cases. In this one, there's not the same dramatic drive. I was hoping that the plot would have more twists (there's a scene in which I thought it would get as complex as the best Bosch novels), but it's surprisingly straight-forward. Nevertheless, a very entertaining and suspenseful novel.

Okay, now I'll have to get back to work.

Connelly's The Lincoln Lawyer

I'm in the middle of reading Michael Connelly's The Lincoln Lawyer which I believe is still his newest one, even though it's from 2005. It's great so far, even though there's a feeling of having read something similar before. I get that a lot when I read thrillers of this kind, but Connelly is so much more engaging than many of his colleagues and his characters are real and vivid and full-blown, not simply cardboard. I'll post later thoughts when I'm through with the book.

I was also thinking that one of Connelly's Harry Bosch novels (The Lincoln Lawyer is a one-off) should be included in the top 10 detective novels list, but I couldn't name a favourite. What's the book that has Bosch investigating kiddie porn? Is it Angels Flight? That could be my choice.

By the way, I've interviewed, via e-mail, Connelly couple of times and had a chance to meet him for a live interview two years back. He's a very nice guy. I was quite awkward in the interview, but could relax afterwards and we chatted for quite a while in a Russian restaurant in the middle of Helsinki.