My very first novel by Don Winslow, and definitely not the last one. I would probably have given it five stars right after I finished it, but I got sidetracked and I write the review some three months later. I still feel the story of Frankie Machine is a solid piece of storytelling and Winslow a great talent, but I'm not so sure about shelving it as a favorite.
On the plus side, Frankie in the present day is a great lead : a tough cookie and a workaholic who instead of thinking about his pension keeps juggling several small businesses and finding time to surf daily in his sixties. The plot is very clever and puts to good use a series of flashbacks to the career of Frankie as a hitman for the mob over more than four decades. Somebody though has put a contract on him, and Frankie must re-examine his career in order to find out which of his past misdeeds has come back to bite him in the a$$ now.
Local flavour is also one of the strong points of the novel : California as opposed to the established settings of Chicago, New York, Las Vegas and (surprisingly for me) Denver, makes for a sunny, laid-back yet bloody twist on the gambling, drugs and prostitution rackets.
How does one young kid becomes a hitman for the Mob? Frankie sorts of drifts into it out of a poor family background, a lazy disposition and a lack of moral scruples. The easy money also come into the equation.
He got his diploma, but then what was he supposed to do? His choices seemed to be the Marines or the tuna fleet. He didn't want to stay on the tuna boats or get his head shaved at boot camp. What he really wanted to do was hang out on the beach, surf, drive up and down the PCH, try to lose his cherry, and surf some more.
In his own defense, Frankie Machine gets smarter as he gets older and manages to get his priorities right. But once a member of organized crime, it is mighty difficult to escape its tentacles.
Hanging out with mob guys, Frank thought, was like being frozen in some perpetual junior high school time warp. The conversations were always about sex, food, farts, smells, girls, small dicks, and homos.
And crimes, of course.
So, Frankie Machine must come out of retirement and single handled take on contract killers and distant Mob bosses until his journey into his own past reveals the grudge that refuses to fade away.
On the minus side: I liked Frankie, but his youthful carelessness about killing stopped me from fully believing he is a reliable narrator. It's not that I don't like grey characters with complex motivations, but that I felt the author was working a bit too hard to make him likable in his later years and the plot resolution was a tad too Hollywood style – like a script custom made for a movie version. Oh, and I kinda guessed who was after Frankie right from the first time the culprit showed up (maybe I've read one too many of these crime thrillers). The prose is one of the best things about the novel, and the main reason I will continue to read Winslow novels, although I wish he would use a little less acronyms (PCH stand for Pacific Coast Highway, I think) , but probably this is my own peeve and Californians really enjoy shortening all official names.
[edit: seems like I forgot the rating]