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So begins a harrowing journey that takes Reacher through the upper Midwest, from a lowlife bar on the sad side of small town to a dirt-blown crossroads in the middle of nowhere, encountering bikers, cops, crooks, muscle, and a missing persons PI who wears a suit and a tie in the Wyoming wilderness.
The deeper Reacher digs, and the more he learns, the more dangerous the terrain becomes. Turns out the ring was just a small link in a far darker chain. Powerful forces are guarding a vast criminal enterprise. Some lines should never be crossed. But then, neither should Reacher.
368 pages, Hardcover
First published November 7, 2017
The year is 1997, Heathrow terminal 4, and by some luck I bought, Killing Floor, the riveting and action-packed start to the JR series and now, 20 years and 22 books on with the latest being The Midnight Line, I mourn the loss of the real and enigmatic JR.
In all honesty, I think I've outgrown this character or perhaps the central premise of a nomad-like hero who lives free from any and all encumbrance seems implausible in this digital era amid a growing security and terrorism war.
The Midnight Line starts off with Reacher walking down a random street, window watching for nothing in particular until his eye caught on a West Point class ring-- in a pawn shop--that seems incongruous to the setting: How did it get there and to whom does it belong? Reacher automatically and rightly assumes something sinister is afoot and we are then taken on a journey for the discovery of the owner of this petite-sized ring.
You know the most infuriating thing isn't the deus ex machina plot premise, no. What I found tough to take was the blatant manipulation of the characters as well as the plot arc in order to fit the message into context. I won't go into details as not to spoil but I will acknowledge that yes, the underpinning message of this narrative is important and yes, increased awareness is vital, but, the rather oblique manner of getting to it was flagrant and a bit manipulative. It didn't help that I kept envisioning Clint Eastwood as Reacher, seeing as how Reacher must be a 100 years old or something of such.
All in all, a book to never read again, unlike the other serials in this series some of which I've read often enough to render dog-eared (here's looking at you Bad Luck and Trouble)
The year is 1997, Heathrow terminal 4, and by some luck I bought, Killing Floor, the riveting and action-packed start to the JR series and now, 20 years and 22 books on with the latest being The Midnight Line, I mourn the loss of the real and enigmatic JR.
In all honesty, I think I've outgrown this character or perhaps the central premise of a nomad-like hero who lives free from any and all encumbrance seems implausible in this digital era amid a growing security and terrorism war.
The Midnight Line starts off with Reacher walking down a random street, window watching for nothing in particular until his eye caught on a West Point class ring-- in a pawn shop--that seems incongruous to the setting: How did it get there and to whom does it belong? Reacher automatically and rightly assumes something sinister is afoot and we are then taken on a journey for the discovery of the owner of this petite-sized ring.
You know the most infuriating thing isn't the deus ex machina plot premise, no. What I found tough to take was the blatant manipulation of the characters as well as the plot arc in order to fit the message into context. I won't go into details as not to spoil but I will acknowledge that yes, the underpinning message of this narrative is important and yes, increased awareness is vital, but the rather oblique manner of getting to it was flagrant and a bit manipulative. It didn't help that I kept envisioning Clint Eastwood as Reacher, seeing as how Reacher must be a 100 years old or something of such.
All in all, a book to never read again, unlike the other serials in this series some of which I've read often enough to render dog-eared (here's looking at you Bad Luck and Trouble)