Nigel Bird's Blog, page 35

THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS NOW

“The Socs were trying to look poor. They wore old jeans and shirts with the shirttails out, just like the greasers always had because they couldn’t afford anything else. I’ll tell you one thing, though: what with fringed leather vests and Levis with classy-store labels in them, those kids were spending as much money to look poor as they used to to look rich.”
I’d been saving That Was Then, This Is Now to read on a rainy day. Not a day when it rained on the outside, but when I needed a lift. I finally opened the cover last weekend on a train journey down to see my dad. Returning to the place where I did my own growing up made it an appropriate choice and it was definitely the right one. Truth be told, I reckon any day’s a good day for reading a book by SE Hinton.
Bryon and Mark have lived together since Mark’s parents killed each other. They’ve become like brothers. They get a buzz from girls, pool hustling, joyriding and fighting. The world is ripe with possibility and yet limited by their social status and environment. We get to know them at a time when things are changing. Nothing is quite the way it was. Everything seems more serious and many of the activities that were fun for them once have become dull. At the same time as life becomes rich and thrilling, the cracks appear everywhere.
Tough things happen. Their part of town is brutal. Without going into huge detail, the book managed to capture hard and mean moments in a very satisfying way. Each episode grabs the senses and forces you to pay attention.
I can’t put my finger on why exactly I found this read to be so moving and absorbing, especially when it’s aimed at young-adults and when the prose is so straightforward. It might be that it does such an excellent job of capturing a moment of change, a watershed between one life and another. To me, it doesn’t just speak of the movement from teenager to young adulthood, but holds a mirror up to all the times in life when skins are shed. It carries the weight of nostalgia, a hint of resignation and an unsteady optimism for things to come.
It could also be that the strength of the characters and their relationships are a key to this novel’s power. The first person narration brings and intensity of feeling that works superbly. What Hinton does for me is to reach inside. She allows me to feel something more than empathy. It’s almost as though she’s creating a new identity for me as I read. A new history. That depth is not even pinned down to one person, but to all the central figures in the story.
The tone and structure also work with ease. The voice is reflective and yet in the moment. All the life and times that are building up come with a warning early on that they won’t last forever. Something’s going to shake their world to the core and that tension slowly burns from beginning to end while we await the final nail in the coffin to be smacked home.

Hinton writes in a very simple way. The sentences are never complex and the language is often plain. That said, she creates distilled phrases that deliver an emotional punch incredibly well (‘Nothing can wear you out like caring about people.’). These moments are the jewels in the crown for me, the points at which she tells it all with a slight action or subtle reference. 

All in all, this was just the treat I’d been hoping for. It’s the kind of book that I hope rubs off somewhere in my own writing style and if I ever get to put out a novel that’s half as good as this, I’ll be a very happy man.  

Ace.

One Man's Opinion: LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE DEAF MAN by ED McBAIN

 “The juices were beginning to flow, and nowhere did they flow as exuberantly as in the 87th, where life and death sometimes got a little bit confused and where the flowing juices were all too often a bright red.”
The more books I read about the 87th Precinct, the more I find myself enjoying them.
This was my second Deaf Man story. The fact that I’m going in the wrong order makes not a bit of difference.
Let’s Hear It For The Deaf Man (US) has a similar structure to Eight Black Horses. There’s the totally engaging plotting of the Deaf Man himself, a strand relating to a series of cat-burglaries that have taken place on the same block over a short space of time and there’s been the crucifixion of an unidentified man.
Each of the strands is compelling. They’re written in ways that build up elements of tension and heighten curiosity. They also allow further exploration into the lives of the main detectives and their partners. In this one, Detective Kling is totally bowled over by Augusta Blair (‘He had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.’), one of the victims of a break-in to her apartment where the burglar has left a kitten by way of identifying himself.  
This one covers lots of bases. It’s got something for the fan of the whodunit, for those who like their crime brutal, for anyone who enjoys dark humour, for readers who enjoy the perfectly formed quip and for people who appreciate well-rounded characters who give more than two dimensions.Super stuff and I look forward to the next one.
If you’ve got any solid tips on your own particular faves, I’d love to hear them – there are so many to choose from. Maybe I should just go for book one and take it from there.   

One Man's Opinion: THE GIRLS OF BUNKER PINES by GARNETT ELLIOTT

A question to start with.
These days I don’t have the patience to read books that I’m not getting along with. I may discard as many as a quarter of the books I begin because I’m not enjoying them enough. I guess that means that if I take the time to review something, it’s going to be a fairly positive reflection. It’s not that I love all the books I start, it’s more that I only finish the ones that grab me.
Last week I began Mignon by James M Cain. He’s written some of my favourite pieces and so I know he’s a complete talent. The thing with Mignon is that I don’t buy it from the off. I can’t accept the lead character throwing over his life for this sultry beauty. I’m not even entirely sure what the post civil war racket is all about. It bugged the hell out of me. I’d rather sit down to watch the Minions movies in a triple-bill (that actually sounds like fun) than finish the Cain book. That said, I’m worried I might be missing out on a gem if I don’t keep going. Which is my question. Will my life be improved if I take this back down from the shelf or do you think it’s better off left where it is? Any thoughts welcome.
And now to a book I took a lot of delight in completing, The Girls of Bunker Pines (US) by Garnett Elliott.  
‘He looked about as worried as a houseplant.’
Jack Laramie lives in a horse box and carries around his grandfather’s gun as a companion. He stumbles into Joe Crews at a prayer meeting. Crews is an alcoholic veteran of the Korean War and he’s been invited to sell an investment into bomb-proof underground shelters to ex-servicemen. Laramie immediately smells a rat and sees the long con that Crews has been sucked into.
What lures the detective into digging deeper into the con is the need he feels to protect a fellow survivor. We learn more about Laramie’s wartime experience as a gunner in a US bomber and as a prisoner of war in sections of the story that are neatly woven into the tale.
It’s not long before the heavies behind the Bunker Pines operation are uncovered and they’re not people to be messed with. Unfortunately, Laramie can’t help himself.
This story is really well handled. The hard edges of the action are complimented by subtle layers of sentiment and bags of atmosphere. Most impressive is the depth of character created within a fairly short space.

This one’s for fans of detective fiction, particularly those who hanker after work from a golden age. A really strong novella.  

One Man's Opinion: WHEN THE MUSIC'S OVER by AIDAN THORN

“You’re from an age before online banking and living off credit. You can track Benny down the old-fashioned way. And once you get the money back, you can do him the old-fashioned way as well.”
When The Music’s Over (US) is a tale set in Birmingham’s gangland. It has good guys turning bad, bad guys staying bad and an ex-enforcer who comes out of retirement and isn’t sure which way to turn.
Harry Weir is a nasty piece of work. He’s a drug dealer who has become mean and complacent. He’s also the son of one of the bosses of Birmingham’s biggest crime syndicate. He meets his end at the hands of Benny Gower at the story's opening. Benny then steals from his bosses before doing a good job of covering his tracks with a move to Southampton.
Enter Wynn McDonald. Wynn’s an old-time crook with a big reputation. He is called up by gangsters Castle and Weir to track down Harry’s killer and to locate the cash that has disappeared. Wynn would be happy to stay away from his old business, but his ties are strong and his loyalties clear. As he investigates Benny, however, his feelings begin to change. No one has a bad word to say about Benny Gower and everyone seems to be rooting for the guy.
Wynn’s good at his job and soon has leads on Benny. The only thing he’s not sure of is how he’s going to clean up the situation at hand. A glimpse into Benny’s past life as a rock star and new information about the real reason his band never made the big time only serve to muddy the waters as Wynn becomes increasingly torn between doing the right thing and staying true to his past.
The ingredients of the story work well the ending is very satisfying. The characters are well-drawn and the setting is nicely created. To my mind, keeping the focus in the moment and tightening the prose a little could have added even more to the power and pace the work generates.

Overall, a fun and rewarding visit into dark territories. Definitely one for the list for fans of things Brit Grit.    

One Man's Opinion: HURT HAWKS by MIKE MINER

“Saddam wasn’t a Bond villain. He was a thug in a white suit. He didn’t want to blow up the world. Just to pick its pockets.”
Chris Rogers is a war veteran. He sits in his wheelchair waiting for someone to come. When that someone arrives, he’s going to kill him.
This opening to Hurt Hawks (US) is full of power. It shows off many of Miner’s outstanding qualities. The guy seems to have sixth and seventh senses. He is able to perceive the world through the physical being of his characters and the shadows they create. This ability offers a dimension to his work that is rare. The prose becomes poetic at times and he mingles a dream-like quality to concrete events. In this way, he gets deep under the skin and paints a world of many layers in a way that I really enjoy.   
What follows in this tale is a world of war, survival and revenge. People do what they have to do in response to loyalties and codes that aren’t always in their own best interest. In many of the situations created it would be so much easier to walk away. For Captain Patrick Donovan and his crew, this option isn’t even on the table. They are set on paying back Chris Rogers and his family for services rendered and they’ll stop at nothing until all debts are paid.
The main thread of the story, that of the war vets coming together to fight new battles on home soil, is gripping. Outcomes are never predictable. Surprises are thrown in from many unseen angles.  I loved it. If there’s any issue with the book for me, it is that I was so hooked into this central plot that tearing me away from it to open doors to the back-story proved problematic. The past is an essential aspect of the work, yet I might have preferred a more direct telling. It’s a minor issue, though, and wouldn’t prevent me from heartily recommending this as a read.
Miner has produced some amazing fiction to date. I suspect that there is plenty still to come and I, for one, intend to be there to watch this talent unfold.

Recommended.     

One Man's Opinion: POST OFFICE by CHARLES BUKOWSKI

If you’re able to get access, check out this small article on Flash Fiction (Smoke-Long Stories) at BBC Radio 4’s Open Book. It includes a tasty piece by Ian Rankin and some thoughts on the origin of the Hemingway six word tale
And now to Post Office (US).  
“I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, combed my hair. If I could only comb that face, I thought, but I can’t.”
It can be really interesting re-reading books that made an impact in youth. There’s a different perspective offered and the book's that little bit older.
Post Office was a real treat to read, but carried a lot less of the sense of romance to it this time around. Whereas I might have wanted to be like Chinaski at one time in life, the prospect of living from bottle to bottle, woman to woman and race to race seems a much less attractive one these days. On reflection, I guess that I can say I gave my early ambition my best shot. I can no longer gamble because of my addiction and had to give up the booze and the rest when my children came along. As for the women thing, I guess that a messy and turbulent phase finally settled when I straightened out. And that’s another story that I’m not going to share anywhere.
The book is an interesting work, with some really strong prose. In many ways, it feels like a gathering of short stories that come together to form a novel of sorts. This brings advantages and disadvantages.
On the negative side, there’s rarely the energy at the end of one chapter of Chinaski’s life to give it enough momentum to catapult a reader into the next.
As a positive, the strength with which Bukowski puts into nailing a moment, phrase or rounding-off is huge. Pieces often finish with hammer blows that express a huge amount in the smallest of spaces.
The story is very simple. A man takes a job with the post office. It’s a tough life. He needs drink. Likes sex. Dislikes authority. Enjoys a gamble. He has tough bosses and difficult rounds. Each episode is told in a matter-of-fact way. Even the most extraordinary events are told plainly. There’s the sense of rhythm of the run-of-the-mill and a feeling that this life is anything but.

Well worth checking out if you’ve not been there before. If you like it, when you’re done make sure you read some of Bukowski’s poems. That’s where he really excels. 

One Man's Opinion: MAIGRET AFRAID by GEORGES SIMENON

Maigret Afraid is an interesting work for fans of the series.
The plot itself is fairly standard. He rolls into town, there have been murders and there are more to come. Maigret takes a back seat and watches everything, from the process of the law to the main suspects and eventually does put all the pieces together in the way we have come to expect.
Included is a fairly heavy dose of class analysis and our detective provides an excellent filter through which to see the world as is always the case. The subtle and the obvious are all pointed out as he wanders between the homes of the rich and poor and the roles of the women are of particular interest.
What I found to be more engaging than the plot was Maigret’s personal reflection. He’s returning from a course where the young pups have made him feel his age. He also happens to be staying with an old university friend who is the town’s Examining Magistrate. By watching his friend, he draws parallels with his own life. We get to see into the distant past and into the very real present of a man who really just wants to go home.

Worth reading for any crime fiction fans, but especially so for admirers of Maigret who like to collect nuggets about his personal life and history. 

One Man's Opinion: THE DEAD OF JERICHO by COLIN DEXTER

It’s slightly odd reading a book about characters who are so known in their television incarnations. I found it hard to separate the Morse and Lewis of the page from their counterparts on the screen. I did, eventually, become engrossed enough in the plot that I barely noticed the issue.
The Dead of Jericho (US) has a somewhat implausible opening. Morse happens to chase up and old acquaintance on the day she is found hanged in her kitchen. When the case is finally presented to him, he’s already been dabbling to try and find out what happened. From that point on, this became a solid police procedural.
Morse and Lewis form a great partnership and play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses until the case is solved.
Another death thickens the plot and the ring of suspects are used nicely so that each of them remains as a spinning plate in the process until the last possible moment.
Parallels to a Greek tragedy are played out and just at the point where this becomes a too silly the plot veers off in another direction.
Dexter doesn’t hammer home the final nail in the coffin until the last pages where everything is wrapped up neatly with all the skill of a master craftsman.

I enjoyed the read more than I expected. Some of the references and quotes were way over my head and did impede the flow at times.   Even so, I would happily read another in the series, especially as holiday entertainment. I will, however, look forward to further TV episodes of Lewis and Endeavour with some enthusiasm. 

Viv Albertine With Ian Rankin: Words and Music Memoirs of a Punk Rocker

The Edinburgh International Book Festival always comes at the wrong time of year for me as it starts as the schools go back and I have to put on my teacher’s hat again.
I still make a point of making sure I get the programme early so that I can choose one outstanding event. In recent years I’ve been privileged to see Willy Vlautin, Katie Kitamura and Megan Abbott for example, so you can see I pick rather well and have impeccable taste.
This year, Ian Rankin has had the honour of being a guest selector and he’s chosen a cracking bunch of people to talk to. When I saw he’d chosen Viv Albertine among those names, I was on the phone buying my tickets. Having been to the event on Sunday evening with a very good friend of mine, I can tell you I wasn’t at all disappointed by my choice.
Ian Rankin does a brilliant job in conversation. I’ve seen him a few times in this role and have been really impressed by his manner. Unlike many in the facilitator role he clearly feels he has nothing to prove. He knows his subject material and he applies insightful and open questions at the right moment to keep things flowing. He gives his guests the opportunity to talk and elaborate without constant interruption and that’s a big bonus in my eyes. It’s a big skill that he has and is one that is too often under-rated in my eyes.

Given this was a music event this was also right up Mr Rankin’s street. Not only does he know his history, he’s lived it. Great, then, to hear some of his own anecdotes thrown into the mix in a very light-handed way and adding colour to the evening.
 And Viv Albertine.
What to say?
The first thing I’m going to mention is the very last thing that I expect I’m supposed to say, namely that she was utterly stunning. Not just the way she looked, but the impact she had when walking on. Her book is entitled Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys (US). It’s also called Clothes, Music, Boys if you want the Tesco-friendly cover. She began with a reading from the book. It was an engaging and funny account of her first gig with The Slits on the Clash’s White Riot tour, chosen especially as it took place in Edinburgh. What images came forth in that burst of words. It screamed punk rock and energy and possibility.
The thing is Viv Albertine was in an all-girl band at a time when that just didn’t happen. She and her tribe were so wild-looking that there had to be negotiations with the hotel to make them honour their booking and then only on the condition that the girls didn’t leave their rooms and stayed out of sight. Don Letts had to call ahead to all the rest of the hotels booked to make sure that they knew exactly who and what was heading their way.
Viv was around at the time of an explosion. She had little stories about Mick Jones, Sid Vicious, Johnny Rotten, Malcolm McLaren, Johnny Thunders and Vivienne Westwood that made my hair curl (check out my picture – that’s some feat). These people carry the status of being legends, so it was great to hear her talk about them in such a natural way. Best of all, they didn’t become her story. She wasn’t great to listen to because of who she knew but because she has a hugely creative spirit and happens to have known a lot of amazing folk along the way.

There was some talk about the famous album cover and a rather lovely quip – ‘It was saying to the boys, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough’- fantastic.
A lot of the focus was upon the roles and expectations of women back in the mid-seventies and since then. It’s incredible to reflect upon that and to see how many things have changed. To my mind, it’s important to revisit and remember such times and there’s unlikely to be a more rewarding way of doing so than by taking a read of her book. It’s not that I agreed with all of the statements made about then or now, but I admired the sense of personal perspective that was offered and it gave me a lot to think about.
Side Two of the conversation moved on to explore the world post-Slits. It’s been an interesting journey.
There was another reading. It started about sex and ended up with cancer. As she finished, instead of the usual applause there was silence. It spoke volumes about the power and the frankness of her description.  
We touched upon aerobics teaching and film-making and then moved on to a mention of her picking up her guitar again as she turned fifty. She knew she didn’t intend to take it up seriously, but she did know that if she played she knew something would happen. A creative energy within her would be unlocked and she would set off on another journey of making and shaking. More writing was mentioned. A book. A novel perhaps. Hopefully all will soon be revealed.
That unlocking of energy is something I understand. There are many catalysts out there and I reckon it’s our responsibility to go out, find and experience them. What an important reminder of something fundamental to life and the creative process that stems from living it. That alone was worth the price of entry.
After the event my friend and I went to the signing tent for a while. I had nothing to sign and didn’t fancy queuing. What I did want was to keep the evening with me for a little longer.  
I never did see The Slits play live, but at least on this occasion I can say I was there.

Totally brilliant.  

One Man's Opinion: THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE by STIEG LARSSON

Several years on from reading The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo I found The Girl Who Played With Fire (US) on the shelves of the home we rented for our holiday.
If memory serves, that first book really bamboozled me. I couldn’t believe that a novel told with such frequent (and long) tangents and huge slices of back-story and explanation could have been as entertaining as it was.
In many ways, I feel the same about the sequel. Blomkvist and Salander are now estranged. Salander has cut off all contact with him and escaped to travel the world.
Much of the opening section focuses upon her time in Grenada. She’s hooked on mathematics problems and is curious about a strange couple who are staying in her hotel. It’s an engaging start, but doesn’t really have anything to do with the rest of the book. 
Things solidify when she returns to Sweden and hooks up with ex-girlfriend Miriam Wu.
Millennium has taken on a new project courtesy of a free-lance journalist. His article and book are going to blow the lid off the sex-trade and will uncover the exploitation of prostitutes by many of the pillars of polite society.
The prospect of the revelations stirs a hornets’ nest (something tells me this might also happen in the third book) and a lot of mess hits a lot of fans.
Salander finds herself as the main suspect in a terrible crime and the only people who want to protect her are ex-employer Armanski, a retired boxer and Blomkvist.
In spite of the repetitive reflection and those huge chunks of unnecessary material, it’s nail-biting stuff. I reckon it works so well because it’s important to me that Blomkvist and Salander remain safe no matter what. It’s impossible not to root for them, even when belief in their abilities and personalities is stretched a very long way.
Unlike with the first book, I was a little dissatisfied with the ending. Whereas book one felt self-contained, this one seemed totally aimed at luring the reading to book three. That hook may well work for me, too, but might just take me several years to get around to completing the trilogy. Who knows? I might even get to read The Girl In The Spider’s Web before I retire, but it’s very unlikely that I’ll buy myself a copy – it will be a matter of staying in the right place on my hols.
Fire is seriously addictive. It’s also nourishing, fast-paced, flabby and occasionally irritatingly implausible.

Four stars.