It must be boring to have to churn out a novel a year just because you’re a best-selling author. This ennui can be the only excuse for Grisham’s latest folly, Bleachers.

What a let-down when a crime novelist who once ruled a genre turns his hand to something more literary. “An unforgettable novel,” drools the inside of the book’s jacket, which was strange as I managed to forget it immediately. I had to drag the book off the shelf to remember the main character’s name.

Neely Crenshaw comes home for the burial of his school football coach, Eddie Rake. This coach was extraordinary. All of his boys remember him and the impact he made on their lives as they sit in the bleachers waiting for the stadium’s lights to dim and signal his passing.

Things have changed in his hometown of Messina. When he was a boy, there wasn’t a place to buy an espresso. Now, everything’s available and memories blur with real time.
Maybe this will appeal to American football fans but I got tired of hearing of the trials of Nate and Paul and Jesse. And I nearly lost it when Coach Rakes’s funeral lasted for almost 40 pages.
I studied the blurb again, “this novel….is about the many ways boys become men.” Really? Hmmm. Maybe you have to be a man to get it because it left me cold. His writing is competent but his characters lack depth. The plot was missing too, but maybe it was supposed to be. Who knows? Who cares?

I think this is one of the worst pieces of post 9/11 nonsense I’ve read. What a pity that a fine suspense author had to put all of his fans through this horrible ordeal.