Nigel Bird's Blog, page 8

One Man's Opinion: PINE by FRANCINE TOON

I remember the release of this one, how I loved the cover and the name. My curiosity deepened when it won the McIlvanney Prize for the Scottish crime book of the year back in 2020. I'm not sure where the time went. 

I finally lifted Pine  from the pile and began. 

As with so many of the books I read and the films I watch, I had little idea of what to expect. I enjoy the sense of being dropped into totally unfamiliar places and will often avoid blurbs until I'm deep into a story. Pine, I have to say, was as refreshing in terms of its freshness as I might have hoped. Imagine that feeling when you finally plunge into the icy water having stood up to your knees for an age waiting to pluck up the courage; there are pains in private places and your skin burns as if it's been sandpapered off, yet there's a real exhilaration and you keep going until your body finds equilibrium. It was something like that. 

I landed in the present tense, observing a father and daughter in an isolated part of Scotland. There's an intensity to both the characters and a dark and smoky-scented mist that swirls around each character and their isolation isn't entirely due to the small-worldliness of their geographical location.

Initially I was concerned that the quality of the writing and the perspectives would be impossible to maintain. There were a couple of tiny, barely perceptible, stumbles where I worried that fragments of the past that were being shown would become trip hazards throughout, but I needn't have worried. Instead, I became drawn into the story and its supernatural shadows until I really couldn't put it down. 

Naill is the father. He's probably an alcoholic and is certainly depressed. The disappearance of the love of his life has hollowed him out. He's good with his hands, is musical and wants to do better, yet his pain always wins out and drags him into the self-awareness that he's an awful parent. 

Lauren is the daughter. A primary school child who looks up to the older pupils on the school bus and is bullied by her peers. She has a best friend with whom she is building a shelter in the local woods, a mysterious box of spells, crystals and Tarot cards left behind by her mother and an ability to see beyond the physical world. 

While out driving one night, a broken woman appears in front of their car. They pick her up and Niall tends to her wounds. In the morning, the woman is gone. Lauren is curious as to what as happened, but Niall appears to have forgotten the entire incident. 

Naill will soon receive a call from a neighbour who believes his ex-wife has made an appearance. The neighbour will recall nothing of this when asked. 

And unusual things happen. Circles of stones appear in Lauren's life. Her bedroom is tidied by an unseen hand. Something in the house smells unpleasant, but there appears to be no source. There are warnings and a sense that something terrible is about to happen in the community. Which it does. 

Pine's a wonderful thing. The quality of the writing is excellent. Toon creates a multi-dimensional world of exteriors and interiors in a way that suggests she has Lauren's magic box at her disposal. The story is beautifully woven together and the build-up of momentum and tension is paced to perfection. 

As I mentioned, this was the winner of the Scottish crime book of the year not so long back. If I'd have been among the nominees (yes, I know, that's never going to happen) I might have come away from Bloody Scotland with a touch of bitterness. Yes, there is crime in this book, but it's not a crime novel in the way I have come to understand them. That said, I would also have come away thinking that the best book romped away with the prize and wishing that I could pen something as powerful and captivating before my mind goes.

So, if you've not read this yet, I urge you to take the plunge. It's fantastic and deep and enthralling right until the end. 

     

One Man's Opinion: JIGSAW by ED McBAIN

This was an interesting one for me. It brought two of my favourite things, the 87th Precinct books and Lt. Columbo, together in a way that I wasn't expecting. The blurb hinted at the connection, but it took me until the first illustration of the piece of a photograph to confirm that they were going to be very similar indeed. It took me a little more reading to realise that they were almost identical, the main difference been the switching of parts so that Columbo was now Detective Arthur Brown (or vice versa).

Essentially, two bodies are found and it's clear that they killed each other. There's not much to go on, the only strange thing being the oddly-shaped piece of a snapshot in the hands on one of the victims. 

In steps insurance investigator,  Irving Krutch (played by Ed Begley Jr in the Undecover episode from Falk's tenth season). He's up to speed on the photograph puzzle, owning a piece himself. When all the pieces are put together, it will lead to the finding of $750K stolen from a bank several years earlier. Krutch wants to find all the pieces to clear his reputation at work and suggests to Brown and Carella that they would make a good team. 

The problem for me is that I couldn't separate the book from the TV episode. My mind was constantly creating clashing images and any tension or attempts at problem-solving were undermined by knowing what was just around the corner. 

To complicate matters, I watched How To Dial A Murder, where I bumped into Ed Begley Jr again, this time in the role of a police officer. 

Trying to unscramble it all became impossible. Let me say that I love the Undercover episode and I also really enjoyed the book. 

There are only a few differences between the adaptation and the book as far as I can tell. 

First of all, the way the criminal is pinned down is totally altered. The TV version comes up with a slightly unlikely piece of detective work as it seemingly was unable to use the actual ending, possibly because of the potential for controversy. 

And second, and a big miss from the adaptation, there are the racist events that Brown encounters while doing his job (including a terrific observation from a prostitute who attempts to dig herself out of trouble by offering Brown oral sex, commenting that the colour of the male appendage makes no difference to her and contradicting her opening lines in the process- go check it out). To me, this tips the win to the novel and I'm sure if I'd read it before watching that this feeling might be even stronger. 

All in all, it was great to be back with the 87th again even if this isn't among the best; I'm already looking forward to the next.  

One Man's Opinion: LITTLE CAESAR by W R BURNETT

 

'Rico was a simple man. He loved but three things: homself, his hair and his gun. He took excellent care of all three.' 

Takes me back, this, to the days when Saturdays were black and white and to trips to the Scala cinema in Kings Cross where a double or triple bill of gangster movies ranked among my favourite passtimes.

All these years later, I've finally caught up and read the book. 

It's a terrific tale, always growing and moving forward, like Rico himself, written in a simple style that captures description and mood with plainspeak and aparent ease. 

Rico is rising through the ranks. From nothing, he soon takes over his gang based upon his cold menace, violent actions and clever calculations. Needless to say, he makes enemies along the way. He also ignores his orders during a heist and plugs a policeman mid-robbery. It's clear from then on that this is going to haunt him and, indeed, will eventually lead to his downfall. 

There's an interesting cast of characters surrounding our protagonist, most of them with a nickname that gives you everything you need. They're all pretty exaggerated. Characatures if you like. It's not that they're not three-dimensional, more that they're distilled downed to their essences - loyal-to-a-fault, bitter, yellow, hard, straight etc. 

When he gets to meet the big players, Rico realises that his eyes are bigger than his stomach. Perhaps its his drive to rise further that leads him to errors of judgement. Whatever it is, he's soon on the run and the cops are determined to get their man. His demise is tense and offers a great contrast to the opulence of his dreams and past status, as well as showing us where he came from in the first place. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this and it was everything I expected. Not that it was without its challenges. I found some of the dialogue tags (or sometimes the lack of them) difficult to follow and the runs of adjectives could have been cut from three or four to one or two. Even so, it's fast-paced, efficient and a wonderful discription of a disintigrating human mind. I'm sure if I knew my Shakespeare, I might venture to add Shakespearean to pack it into a nutshell. 

Punchy writing, brutal clarity and really enjoyable.

To finish, a Big Boy quote just for fun:

'I got a library too and a lot of other stuff that ain't worth a damn. I was talking to a rich guy the other day and he said I was a damn fool to buy real books because he had a library twice as big as mine and dummy books. What the hell! If a guy's gonna have a library, why, I say do it right. So there you are. I got so damn many books it gives me a headache just to look at 'em.'

    

One Man's Opinion: FULL DARK HOUSE by CHRISTOPHER FOWLER

 

I've often been tempted by these books, partly because of the great covers, because of the recommendation of Keith Nixon and due to the names of the central characters. Now, I've finally dipped in my toe and I can pass on the verdict: come on in, the water's fine. 

It's been a while since my last book thoughts, which reflects the time this one took to get through. This is often an indicator that I wasn't driven to pick up a book to read in quiet moments and there's an element of that here. It's also because it's a fairly substantial read. 

The opening section took me by surprise, with one of central figures being taken out by an explosion. What followed was an investigation spanning decades, on the one hand looking at Bryant and May's first case together and on the other trying to find the killer of Arthur Bryant and the way it relates to that Second Word War investigation. 

I was taken by the scenes at the Peculiar Crimes Unit where the pair first meet. The pair interact wonderfully, each clearly suited to their posting on account of their curious personalities. The conversations are a treat, often flavoured with comedy and wit, and it was impossible not to fall for them very quickly. 

The central case involves a series of murders in London's magnificent Palace Theatre. A dancer loses her feet at the point of death, giving a local street trader a shock when they appear when he returns to work. Members of the cast of the rather provocative show continue to be bumped off, disappear or experience near misses while a ghostly face is often seen at the scene of the crimes. All very Phantom. A little unlikely, perhaps, the show continues while the detectives dig into the lives of those involved in the performance, including the shadowy workings of the theatre's Greek owner. 

I've noted comments in the reviews about some historical inaccuracies, but I sailed through it blissfully unaware, loving the detail of the period and enjoying many of the facts that added to the sense of time and place. 

I also really enjoyed Bryant's leaning towards the spirit world to help him solve crimes. His clairvoyant friend is an asset to the case and certainly added to the enjoyment of this reader. 

There are a few minor issues. The points of view dance around in a way that's not always helpful and the shifts between past and present aren't always clearly marked. The plot is also slightly stretched and a little less of it would have suited me just fine. 

That said, I suspect the strength of this series is likely to be based upon Bryant and May and those in their team and I'll definitely be coming back for more to find out what other peculiar cases they might stumble into. 

Good stuff.  

One Man's Opinion: LEMONS NEVER LIE by RICHARD STARK

Lemons Never Lie is a book that just keeps on giving, unless you happen to be the protagonist (Alan Grofied), in which case it keeps on giving and taking and giving and taking and so on. 

Grofield is invited to LA to talk about a job. At the airport, while awaiting his bags, he plays the slot machines. When he draws three lemons it nets him fourteen nickels. This he sees as a sign of bad luck and it's a hex that's going to follow him right until the end of the novel. 

He bumps into an old colleague, Dan, and they attend a meeting of criminals only to discover that the organiser, Andrew Myers, is a flawed human being who has no respect for human life and has a reckless approach to heists. Grofield and Dan leave, but Myers stamps his mark on both of them (literally and figuratively) before they leave town with each of them carries a grudge for Myers that isn't going to leave them be.

There's a little bit of ping pong after that, where the plot works its way through various sections of the story. 

Grofield's main incentive for criminal activity is the running of an old theatre in Mead Grove, Indiana. It's where he lives with his wife, and when they're not putting on shows they are living on stage. They're frugal and motivated and, above all, very happy. It's the kind of idyllic lifestyle many a reader might wish for. Unfortunately, with the Myers job gone and no opportunities on the horizon, Grofield is getting desperate. 

When Dan shows up again and a call comes in for a safe robbery in a superstore, things begin to look up. And then they look down again. Grofield sure was right about those lemons.

After being kicked when he was up a few too many times, Grofield is forced into a position where he needs to take revenge. Myers is no longer just a thorn in his side but a crown of them, with each spike jabbing directly into his heart. By the end of the book, only one of them will still be standing.  

Though there are a few cracks in the plot in terms of it shooting off in many directions and in certain elements that feel on the unlikely side, there's plenty of paper in the form of the quality of the writing and the energy of the action to cover them over. And there's lots to love. The negotiation when buying a vehicle for a job is perfect. The purchasing of guns. The tension of the heist. Grofield's cool determination and dogged pursuit of his nemesis. Best of all, the wonderful set up Grofield has with his wife and the extra dimensions his love of the theatre bring to his character really shine. 

A neat book in a tidy-sized pocket edition that will have you sitting on whatever seat it is you're sitting on wherever you happen to be.  

One Man's Opinion: COP KILLER by SJOWALL & WAHLOO

 

I suspect that Cop Killer isn’t typical of the Martin Beckseries. Still, it’s the first I’ve read and there’s enough in the novel to makeme want to visit again.

A woman is murdered on the edge of a small Swedish town andher body is hidden by the killer.

Martin Beck and Lennart Kollberg of the national murdersquad are called in to investigate what is initially a missing person case.This takes them for a long stretch in the suburbs where policing is ratherdifferent that in the big cities. Beck is looked after by local cop Allwrightwho defies immediate impressions by proving himself to be a knowledgeable anddedicated officer who knows pretty much everything that there is to know abouthis patch. The contrast between city and country is significant and takes Beckand Kollberg back to days when their working lives were simpler.

There are two main suspects in the case, the victim’s ex-husbandand a local man who has a dark and confused history. After significant diggingand interviews, Beck doesn’t fancy them for this crime. Unfortunately, he’sbattling against press interest and national politics in his bid to findjustice.

The first half of the book is excellent. Beck’s slowadaptation to a quieter life in a gentle community is rather touching, as ishis new relationship with Allwright. Each of the characters involved brings somethingof interest, not least in the way that they help do show different facets ofBeck’s character. There may be the occasional odd phrase or translation to copewith, but on the whole it flows extremely well.

What didn’t work quite so easily was the transition of thestory into a new overlapping case. Though it’s essential to the solving of theoriginal murder, it appears from nowhere and feels slightly disjointed. It’snot that I mind multiple cases in one book; in fact, I think I often prefer itthat way. However, there’s much more opinion thrown in here with extra detailand reference to facts that slow things down. It brings to light the conflictbetween Kollberg’s ways and those of his new boss and that is handled moreheavily than I would have liked. I much preferred the earlier pace andsituation.  

In the end, the cases converge. Our murderer is caught. Thepersonal journeys of the police are rounded off nicely. The friendship betweenAllwright and Beck are fused and Allwright invites Beck to come and stay at anytime- I hope Beck took him up on his offer.

One Man's Opinion: MR PARADISE by ELMORE LEONARD

Mr Paradise is a bit of an old pervert. To get his kicks, hewatches recordings of games where Michigan win with live, scantily-cladcheerleaders strutting their stuff in front of the TV. When the game is over,the party starts.

On one particular night, Mr Paradise’s paid companion,Chloe, persuades her model friend, Kelly, to help her out. Kelly’s only therefor the dancing, but is forced to go upstairs
with Mr Paradise’s helping hand,Montez Taylor.

Montez seems surprisingly unhappy to be accompanying anincredibly beautiful woman to his bedroom, so it’s almost a relief for him andfor Kelly when two gunmen burst in and shoot Mr Paradise and his lady friend.

Before the police turn up, Montez makes an odd request ofKelly. She may be a famous underwear model but he’s hoping that for a while, atleast until he can get some financial arrangements sorted, she’ll play the partof her dead friend.

Enter Frank Delsa. He’s the detective assigned to the case.He has the smooth good looks of, say, a Steve Carella, and a temperament thatmany find attractive. Not only that, his instincts about people are spot on andhe’s able to read a case like it’s the printed word. When he sees Kelly, nowpretending to be Chloe, it’s love at first sight. And it’s mutual.

The ins and outs of the case are seamlessly woven. We movethrough different points of view and different periods of time as the puzzle isconstructed. As the plot fits together, the quality of the story becomes clear.

It moves through the gears like a high class automatic car;it picks up pace smoothly and quickly in a way that means you’re deeplyinvolved and turning your way through those pages while barely noticing timepassing.

Delsa is a real winner. As far as I can tell, this is theonly novel he appears in and I hope I’m wrong on that as I’d love to read more.The book is packed with tremendous characters who feel very real in allrespects, especially when in dialogue (a real strength of the book).

My only issue with the read is the ending. Things have beenso smooth and well-handled, that when the conclusion is being laid out and thereare a few gear crunches and bumps in the road to contend with, it’s somethingof a shock. It’s not that it’s not a fitting way to close, it just didn’t clickat the point when my expectation had reached its peak.

Very sleek crime fiction and I recommend it to the house.

Work In Progress

 

Four months now since I finished my current work in progress.

Though I was happy with my original draft, I had a strongsense that something wasn’t working. Unusually for me, I sent the manuscript toa couple of trusted friends to gather their opinions. The hope was that they wouldhighlight the issues I felt were there, confirming my suspicions, and I’d havean easy sail through the next attempt.

The feedback was excellent. And I was right about myreservations.

I was also wrong about several other points and they wererevelations.  

The process of using the perspective of others has beeninteresting.

First of all, in spite of knowing that every comment wasvalid and was exactly what I was after, it still stung. The ‘lots to like’ and ‘reallyenjoyed’ were small comfort and the salient points were sharp.

The stinging moved on to another feeling. The crushing sensethat I can’t write anything anymore. That maybe I’ve lost whatever skills Ipossessed and would just have to accept the passing of a major aspect of mylife.

Thankfully, that lasted for only a short while.

Next step, the question of how to make the changes.

In order to solve some of the problems, key aspects of thestory needed altering. Relationships weren’t right. The work was too shallow.Several events seemed unlikely given the situation. There were even questionsabout the whole premise.

Being lazy, I wanted to find the simplest fix. A band aidmight do it. A few extra sentences here or there, a dialogue change or two, a twistingof a key moment to slightly alter the shape. And then the realisation that if Iwanted the story to be as good as I can make it, the lazy approach wasn’t goingto cut it.

I chatted this all through with another good writer friend.He’s always there and has the understanding of stories that most humans don’tpossess. Even without giving him much detail, a couple of cups of coffee laterthere were a few suggestions that I could hold on to in case they might beuseful.

Then came the waiting. The suggestions needed to swirlaround in my unconscious for a while until they emerged from the clouds. Whenthey were almost in focus, I began again. The first chapter was cut and I madea fresh attempt at chapter one. That’s almost in the bag now. And, of course, anew opening means there are new possibilities about the ways ahead.

More waiting.

Two nights ago, just before drifting into sleep, I found myselfthinking about the book. An almost fully formed suggestion appeared that managesto link the loose threads of new thinking to the core of the original plot. Itwas a wonderful moment. One of those Eurekas. I could wake up and write it downor I could drift back into sleep (surely I’d remember it in the morning);falling asleep proved far more attractive. Morning came and I did remember,which is when I forgot. Thankfully, my daughter Kitty asked me about my writingin the evening. It all came back to me. I still didn’t write it down, but it’spretty fixed in my mind as a way to proceed and I’m sure I can make it.

Now all I have to do is sit at the laptop and type.

The good news is that I have a week to myself coming verysoon. My family will be returning from holiday at the end of the month, while Ihave ring-fenced another seven days as a retreat of sorts. If I don’t makesignificant progress in that time, then I’ll only have myself to blame.

I think I can pull it off. I’m still lazy and want to keepas much of the original draft as I can, but that’s acceptable. After all, theoriginal idea is still the one I want to put across to future readers.

All being well, if I work hard and pull it off, maybe I’llbe putting out something half decent in a few months. If it’s not up toscratch, at least I’ll know that I did the best I could with the germ of theidea.

Here’s hoping.  

One Man's Opinion: SPHERE by MICHAEL CRICHTON

I'm on holiday and I have my kindle packed with books I've chosen in the past, yet the lure of the small English library proved too much and I borrowed a paperback. My kindle has a role when traveling, but I don't always to have to feel responsible for it when I go for a swim in the sea, river, lake or pool and a physical book is so much less likely to be taken or broken when I do. 

Anyway, the choice of books in the library doesn't offer books that I'd usually go for. Hence, my first attempt (as far as I can remember, that is) at a Michael Crichton. I felt pretty confident. I was a big fan of the films Coma and of Westworld, so I felt I would be in safe hands.

The closest I've got to this one before is probably the ripping Down Deep by Mike Croft, an exciting under-sea adventure with a strong message. 

Sphere starts off well. After the first fifty pages, I tried explaining to my daughter that even if the plot sounded bonkers it was well-written and gripping. I was hooked. Was I going to become a new Crichton convert? It very much looked that way. 

Basically, a psychologist (Norman Johnson) who had previously worked for the government on a paper relating to possible human reactions to meeting extra-terrestrial beings is called in to a situation by the US navy. There's been a discovery at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. There's an unidentified craft down there that appears to have been involved in space travel and has also been there for some three hundred years. 

In his paper, Johnson recommended a team of experts and the team has finally been assembled to go down and take a look at the craft. 

Turns out it's likely to be a time-travelling craft that set off from earth to explore a black hole. As things progress, the team discover that it has picked up something in its travels- the sphere of the title. It's likely to be an alien ship, though they have no idea how to open it or what might be inside. 

When the action starts, the pace slips a little. There's much more explanation of theories and scientific speculation, though it was still interesting and thought provoking at this point.

After the mathematician of the group enters the sphere, everything changes. The alien finds a way to communicate with the humans, but it's still unclear whether this entity is malevolent or benevolent. ,

Things begin to go horribly wrong, though this could be down to cultural differences between the different life forms. Variations of sea creatures appear in vast numbers. There are attacks. People die. It's a race against time and against the force that has been unleashed. Of course it is. 

I'm not sure when I started to disengage. About half way through is my guess. The theories become more unlikely. Events lose their interest. Another crisis is just about averted, but there's another looming. The stuff of many a sci-fi thriller movie. 

By the end, I just wanted to find out what the conclusion would be. And it turned out to be disappointing. 

On the back it says that this is Michael Crichton at the top of his form. I very much doubt it. 

Not for me. I much preferred Down Deep. Maybe I'm more of a Crichton movie kind of human. 

One Man's Opinion: THREE TO KILL by JEAN-PATRICK MANCHETTE

I put down my thoughts on Manchette's Fatale a few weeks ago, basically saying that I didn't really enjoy it. A little browsing among other reviewers suggested that Fatale wasn't one of his best and I sensed that he deserved another shot, so I jumped into Three To Kill.  

There are many elements to this one that should have made me enjoy it more than I did. 

A man is thrown out of his usual life pattern following an incident on the road where he saves a man from a car accident and drives him to hospital. It turns out that the victim of the accident had, in fact, been shot and that by attempting a rescue the protagonist (Georges Gerfaut when we meet him) has interfered with an assassination attempt. This triggers an attempt on his own life by the pair of hit men and causes a series of events that he may never have expected. 

Truth be told, Gerfaut wasn't enamoured by his existence in the first place (job, wife and kids all rather humdrum) and his love of jazz was never going to be enough to save him. When he is plunged into responding only to what is around him and driven to act in order to survive, he finds a new vigour as he casts off the restraints of the norm. 

The two hit men are a great creation- they're like bickering brothers or an overly-familiar married couple. The lists of jazz musicians hit the spot. Gerfaut's response to his new life is interesting and his new encounters are interesting and imaginative. Manchette has the skill of summing up a huge amount in a very short phrase. The plot works well and there's enough to maintain interest even though it's difficult to predict which direction lies ahead. All to the good. 

Where I struggled again is with the matter-of-factness. It's brutally cold. Emotions are practically stripped from the work to an extreme, reducing people in a way to something less than human. While this may be a bonus for many, I think that's my main issue with the style. There's also something about the point of view that is a bit off- occasionally the author will raise a question or suggest a not-quite omnipotent understanding of the characters that intruded on my involvement.  

This is likely to appeal to those who like straightforward prose, crystal clear noir, existential sensibilities and uncluttered action (which, in theory should include me). Don't let this put you off and find out for yourself, but two shots and two hits of the woodwork mean I'm unlikely to be back.