Brainquake (Samuel Fuller, written in early 90s, published 2014)

Paul Page is a bagman in New York who falls for the wrong woman. Together they steal money from his employers, go on the run and end up tragically in Paris. A bagman? A highly trained professional who transports dirty money for organised crime.

It starts super cool: "Sixty seconds before the baby shot its father, leaves fell lazily in Central Park"

And with such a killer opening line and Fuller and mobsters and an anti-hero with his babe on the run... it simply got to be good, right? Well, not exactly. The first part - the boy-meets-girl & money stuff in New York - is okay, and it might even function if it wasn't so insanely blown out of proportion. Cartoonish characters (like that priest hit-man dude) I can digest, but carrying not just millions but (literally) billions of dollars in cash while being chased by (again, literally) pirates is just a bit too much.

And it should end in New York because the whole Paris thing (another 100+ pages) quickly turns into an incomprehensible mess. The plot falls apart, and there are so many incredible coincidences (like protagonists keep bumping into each other all the time) that they cannot simply be coincidences. I kept thinking for some time that they were some kind of metaphors (that I just wasn't getting) or shit like that. But the further and the crazier it got, the more convinced I was that Fuller simply wanted to finish the book and had run out of ideas.

But interestingly enough, the megalomania and surreal world from the first part gives us one of the craziest and most memorable villains in the long history of villains. Chapter 16 describes a typical day in the office of Cornelius Hampshire - the most powerful man throughout the civilized and uncivilized world of crime. In just five pages, Cornelius and his four lieutenants manage to coordinate crime all around the globe, encompassing everything from narcotics and banana republic revolutions to money laundering and high-level investment banking. They, of course, also briefly touch on the piracy situation in which our Paul is involved. And we get to know the humane side of Cornelius because he seems to be a big baseball fan:

"Good. Michael, what's going on with Citra?"
"She's being executed Friday."
"Get our liaison to buy her freedom. Give him a million."
"He's being executed with her."
"Goddam it! She's the best distributor in Malaya."
"She was."
"What about Russia?"
"The ban on farms growing poppies shot opium prices sky high."
"Addicts'll pay the difference. Take advantage of the revolt of the ruble. And, oh yes, on the baseball scandal? Kill any bastard selling drugs to ballplayers. I love that game. Don't fuck around with baseball. Ever."

Unforgettable. Super cool and funny. The whole chapter demands repeated readings!

I know this is Fuller's last book, and it's great that Hard Case Crime published it, but it has to be said that the whole thing is a bit weird. 

2.5/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Paul Page, a bagman

Location: 
New York and Paris

Body count:  
20 - including two cops in the final shoot-out (although there could be more), but excluding Eddie and Michelle. And I wouldn't give this duo many survival chances because in the very last chapter, they are spotted (another unbelievable coincidence btw) in Avoriaz by the hitman Father Flanagan.

Title: 
Paul suffers from some undefined brain disorder that he calls "Brainquake". It's not a tumour or anything else that modern medicine can deal with, so I assume it must be another metaphor I have missed.

Edition: 
Hard Case Crime #116

Cover: 
Another cool one by Glen Orbik with Max Phillips designing the cover. And after visiting Phillips' website, I finally realised that the man is not an illustrator :) I need to review some of my old posts and update the artists' credits on them.

Notable cover blurbs: 
None really notable. Maybe because all of them are written by filmmakers?

Cool lines:

Entire chapter #16

Scratch One (Michael Chrichton writing as John Lange, 1967)

Another case of the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mistaken identity crossover with espionage with lots of romance this time, but - unlike the highly original and enjoyable 3 to Kill - this one is very formulaic, predictable and simply boring.

The story is trivial but still full of holes and nonsense. Our hero, jetset kind of lawyer, gets mistakenly sucked into a sinister plot involving a 30 million dollar arms shipment and the killing of a bunch of secret agents and arms dealers. One of them is a Formula 1 driver, and his demise is planned to take place during the Monaco race by sniper blasting one of his tyres (!?!?). This ingenious plan is masterminded by a secret group of various dubious intellectuals who call themselves Associates.

It's pretty messy, so it's no wonder that our hero, on pg. 64 already, is "still more confused than he was at the start" because as he rightly concludes "it just doesn't make sense". Fifty pages later, when he receives a severed finger, he finally realises that "he had to do something" and calls the American embassy. But still, up to this point, Scratch One is amusing in its silliness and its humorous (kind of) style. But then everything changes when Roger meets mysterious, beautiful, sensitive and intelligent Anne.

Obviously, they fall in love, and the story spends 20 pages detailing their lunch and museum visit. At this point, the whole thing really starts to fall apart, and I realised that it's gonna be pretty shitty reading from that point on. It simply seems that the author gave up on the plot altogether. Later on there's another painful section of them having a picnic and buying some villa (once again 20 pages) followed by brief description of Brauer killing the real hit man. There is a short glimpse of hope when two stories meet, but it soon turns out that this big twist is just (another) far-fetched coincidence.

Pretty silly indeed, but I did enjoy a couple of things. The first one is the gang leader's character, Dr Liseau. He's a delightful gentleman/sadist kind of an asshole (Ether, my friend. Injected intravenously, it is quite amusing). Just loved that scene where he gives some poor schmuck a thorough physical examination before he starts torturing him to make sure his heart is strong enough to endure the pain! What a sick fuck, right?! I wonder whether he had ever heard of the Hippocratic Oath. Btw, his number one henchman, Brauer, is also pretty cool and a bit insane, but he's criminally underused.

The grand finale, featuring the aforementioned assassination plot, is simply hilarious. Our hero becomes a decoy for police because, you see, after spending three (3!) days in Dr Liseau's villa, he knows him better than anyone. Even though cops have been after him for years, have all kinds of surveillance photos and shit like that. So here comes the hilarious part: cops give our hero a whistle to blow in case he spots him! No guns, no wire, a fucking whistle to blow in the middle of the crowd attending the Formula 1 race. Almost pissed myself laughing.

Silly stuff, and not even silly in a funny way.

2/5

Facts:

Hero:
Roger Carr, a lawyer

Location:
French Riviera - "A very rich area, and a gambling area. That is a rare and unbeatable combination." Which is of course bullshit, rich people and gambling go together hand in hand.

Body count: 
13 (not counting 2 dead and 3 badly injured on the plane blown up by the planted bomb)

Dames:
Anne, Anne and once again Anne.

Blackouts: 
Well, he's not supposed to be a tough guy, so we can forgive him for passing out three times! And I'm not even counting the occasion when he is sedated adequately by the good doctor to fix his broken nose. Also, it's worth noting that the last one is pretty idiotic because he loses his conscience after the fight.

Title: 
After the mistaken identity fuck up, Carr becomes "a perfect decoy to divert them while they shipped a new man onto the scene." Which is, of course, a suicidal mission that one French cop comments briefly by "Scratch one American". And btw - that same asshole suggests Carr to simply "act naturally"!

Cover: 
By Glen Orbik. I guess it is an illustration of Anne in the scene when Roger meets her for the first time on the beach while she's sunbathing. It's okay, but it could have been a bit more sexy. I included another cover that's cool, too and better reflects the novel's tone.

Cool lines:  
"Dry vermouth on the rocks." It was an interesting choice of drink, he thought - alcoholic, but weak. It fitted a man whose business was killing.

He moved well for a big man, his grace was swift, controlled, and his strength was deadly.

A handsome devil, he thought, if you liked them mean. 
He would be a great success with ladies who preferred their sex swift and brutal. And he dressed well, In a sort of English way. 

"The gun is now in my pocket," Brauer said. "Do not speak to our friend [policeman] up there. I would not like to ruin my suit, or his."

"What's that?" he said.
"A gun."
He stared stupidly, wondering where it came from. After all, she wasn't wearing anything. Christ, he thought, I must be drunk.
"Does it work?"
"Bien sur."
He nodded. It figured: she didn't look like a girl who would fool with a rod that didn't work. 

He regarded him in a detached way, as if he were a prospect buyer for a product of dubious usefulness.[The Coolest!]

The Secret Lives of Married Women (Elissa Wald, 2013)

Two unrelated stories about the identical twin sisters. Leda, pregnant with her second child, moves into a new home with her husband and their child. There's a guy across the street renovating some vacant house, and for some reason, she feels threatened by him. True, he's a bit pushy and doesn't exactly respect her privacy, but still, it seemed to me that his only real sin was the fact that he had recognised Leda in an old porn movie. And if I understood that shit correctly, it wasn't even hardcore porn. By this time, we are well into 100+ pages, and events finally start to unfold a bit. In a pretty ridiculous turn of events, Leda is left to believe that her husband had killed that poor schmuck, which turns her on so much that they can finally have a decent fuck.

And that's it, the end of the first part. Now we need to go back in time and endure another story, this one about her sister Lillian. She's as stereotypical tough bitch top lawyer type as they come (these writers really shouldn't watch so much TV), who gets assigned to a case involving an ex-nun/ex-professional slave in a BDSM house now working (and being obsessed by) some blind, clueless guy. Again, nothing much really happens for the most part. Except that Lillian gets more and more horny and finally gets fucked hard in a tame SM scene where the only act of sadism consists of a few belt spanks of her ass. And a chapter later, her court case drama ends with a pathetic twist.

In short: it's awful. Truly bad. I guess it probably tries to explore female sexuality, but it falls short and is immature. Far, far, far from a trashy exploitation or pulpy hard-boiled or even a simple erotic story. When I think about it, it's basically far from everything. Which is usually not a bad thing at all, but the problem here is that it is just so fucking boring! Won't even go into the style, as the whole thing feels like being written by a 15-year-old aspiring kid encouraged by winning some literary award in a local newspaper contest.

Why did I buy this piece of shit in the first place? Well, it is published by our beloved HCC, and occasionally I do read a novel written by a female author just to prove myself right about my rule about not reading them. Was also a bit intrigued by Junot Diaz (loved! his Oscar Wao btw) cover blurb, but this too proved right my rule about ignoring that publishing marketing crap printed on the covers.

So this is what I get for disobeying my own rules, and it serves me right. But you have been warned! Just skip this and leave it to the bored housewives and 50 Shades of Grey fans. Many of them wander around airport bookstores where this one belongs.

1/5

Added 7-Dec-2013:
I recently received a very passionate response (to put it mildly) to this blog post, and after re-reading the text, I admit I have pretty much deserved it. It does read mean and nasty and makes me look like a misogynistic asshole, so I do feel a need to apologise and to clarify it a bit. Of course, I do read books written by women; I just don’t read crime/mystery books written by women. I’m not saying they are all bad and won’t go into details about this issue, so let’s just say I don’t seem to understand feminine sensibility about the dark side :) But would love to be proven wrong and will gladly check out any reading tips.

Again, sorry if this text was offensive to you - it certainly wasn't my intention to insult anyone. Will definitely be more mindful about how I put together my posts in the future.

Facts:

Hero:
Twins Leda and Lillian

Location:
Portland and New York

Body count:
None. Or maybe a couple if we count an orgasm as a little death.

Dames:
Twins and ex-nun, ex-professional slave Nanette "Nan" Magdalene

Blackouts: 

/

Title: 
There are not many secrets between these two married women. They are pretty honest to their hubbies except for that Leda's porn flick and Lillian's "SM" quicky in the Hilton hotel..

Cover:
Good as all Orbik's covers are, in this one he caught both of their expressions exceptionally well. But it's not too accurate because Lillian is not naked during her Hilton affair. It likely depicts the picture Nan used for blackmail.

Cool lines: 

/

Seduction of the Innocent (Max Allan Collins, 2013)

Conclusion of Collins' Jack Star comic book trilogy. This time around, dark clouds are gathering over this unworthy business as an intense congressional campaign against the publishers of these books takes place. Dr. Werner Frederick is one of its leaders, so this whole witch hunt gets a whole new dimension when he is killed. Sinister shadow of suspicion falls on various publishers and artists. It's up to Jack Star to clear their names and, of course, save the face of the whole industry so it can continue to seduce and corrupt our precious innocent children.

Hard to do this one justice. As a crime/mystery novel, it more or less sucks. It starts okay, but soon I got fed up with its easy and humorous (well, kind of) style. Characters are interesting and offbeat enough (guy with a monkey in his office!), as it only becomes a book with a background in the comics industry. There are also numerous references to the comics industry (artists, publishers, distributors, events), which are cool enough but don't really help the story itself take off. When it finally does, it gets more readable (introduction of mobsters works quite well, I thought), but it's all fucked up with the horrible ending. Agatha Christie kind of climax where all the suspects are assembled in the same room and our hero reveals the fucking butler.

In fact, when I think about it, the whole setup is actually pretty good old Agatha-ish: crime in an unusual surroundings, strange murder with perpetrator doing some weird shit with ice to mess with the time of death, linear storyline with one or two characters introduced each chapter, etc. Maybe I don't get that latter thing, and I wouldn't be surprised if this structure is a homage to daily paper serials, but still, it was a bit too monotone. Also, Jack is an amateur detective, and he cracks the case simply by having a revelation (or, in comic books' jargon, a light bulb goes off over the character's head).

But on the other hand, and after having said all that, lots of things noted above work very well (just not as a whole) and give this book a special tone. Even though plotting is not its strongest side, the story is cool and unusual. And I did like the characters and all that crap about the 50s comics scene, and found most of the chapters preceding the illustrations adorable. Cool idea and welcome novelty indeed!  Collins, of course, is a master of dialogue (though strictly no fucks here!), smooth writing and fluent storytelling. A little resentment that I have (once again) is his totally childish depiction of women and sex. Jack is another one of his macho heroes to whom women throw themselves without much thinking. Perhaps in this case, it's somewhat justifiable, but still, phrases like "yes, she was a natural blonde" or "he was hung like a horse" sound somewhat immature and childish.

Don't know, really. It's a mixed bag. I expected it to be a cute silliness in the same vein as Deadly Beloved. I'm surprised it was published by Hard Case Crime in the first place because you won't find much hard-boiled action here, I'm afraid. It does manage to capture that pulpy feeling, but I still categorise it as a cosy crime, or, if we are a little mean, even put it in the young adult section. But let's not be mean - it is, after all, MAC's love letter to 50s comics and strip culture, which we all love.

3/5

Facts:

Hero:
Jack Starr, 33.  vice president of the Starr Syndicate. Troubleshooter, also registered P.I.

Location:
New York

Body count: 

2

Dames: 
Dr. Sylvia Winters, "Cross between Kim Novak and Grace Kelly." Layla Lamont, gifted, beautiful and wild cartoonist.

Blackouts: 
Jack passes out twice, but has a peculiar way of doing so. Not very convincing, to say the least, because he drops out after all the action's already finished. This gets even more peculiar (not to say ridiculous) the second time around because (1) he's beaten for a whole minute by two "professional" thugs. He then manages to (2) free himself, (3) beat the living shit out of both those assholes and their boss, (4) drive home and then pass out in the elevator on his way up to his apartment.

Title: 
Comic books seduce innocent children, and they must be stopped!

Cover:
Terrific once again, as we would expect from the maestro Glen Orbik. And it's actually 100% related to the story because it portrays the actual cover of one of the incriminated "Suspense Crime Stories" comic books. And it gets even better because in the prologue, Layla is pushed to her death from the 14th-story window. But needs to be said that the book offers even better material for its cover. I'm talking, of course, about the first fight between Jack and Pine on the staircase while naked Layla is watching them. Just imagine the possibilities! Maybe next edition...

Cool lines:  
He looked like a twelve-year-old who'd just been told the facts of life and was appalled yet intrigued.

"I remember you, Mr. Starr," she said, with a faint smile, as if she were recalling the long-ago day when she still could stand men.[The Coolest!]

Fifty-to-One (Charles Ardai, 2008)

There can be no other book that represents the 50th entry of this blog. It's a special edition celebrating the 50th publication of our favourite Hard Case Crime publishing house, written by its editor and co-founder, Charles Ardai. Taking place 50 years ago, this cleverly constructed work is comprised of 50 chapters, each titled using the titles of HCC published books (in consecutive order). And it is not limited to this "anniversary" edition just in terms of form, also (and more importantly) its content is well aligned too, since the plot's primary vehicle is the publication of a "dangerous" book. And yes, it is published by Hard Crime, and yes, one of our main heroes is the publisher himself!

But I wasn't exactly blown away by this one, maybe because I had expected too much since Little Girl Lost (first entry of this blog, btw!) was so brilliant. I also like tough professionals as protagonists, and I'm definitely not much into this "some shit happens to an average person" kind of stuff. The first question that usually comes to my mind and usually stays unanswered is, "Why the fuck doesn't she simply call the cops!?" Sorry to say, but Fifty-to-One is no exception to this rule.

For the apparent reason, it's long. And too fast moving - Tricia runs around frantically from point A to B to C to D and back to B and so on. Sometimes alone, other times accompanied by Erin, Coral, Mike, or Charley, and bumping into all sorts of criminals and shady characters. It sounds good, but it doesn't work terribly well, especially in the second half, when things start to get repetitive and at times even confusing. I'm surprised that Ardai wrote it in this linear fashion and concentrated so much on his leading lady heroine. True, there are two exceptions (a literal transcript of a chapter from the book describing the burglary and Mike's report to Tricia), but the whole thing would turn out more suspenseful if the chapters were told by different narrators. At least it is written very well and features a lot of dialogue, so it never gets boring. The plot isn't exactly watertight, but it was interesting enough to make this quite a page-turner.

Enough of this criticism, what the hell is wrong with me!? I shouldn't say anything negative about this special issue. It is Ardai's love letter to his 10+ years ongoing project and to pulp novels in general. I had immense pleasure in discovering cleverly disguised characters from previous books and HCC inside jokes (like the origin of unusually long feet on some covers). It brought back so many pleasant memories, and when I checked out the gallery of covers, I was surprised to find that I had actually read just 25 of those first 50 books. Which is good, as it leaves me lots of great stuff in the future.

3/5 for the book, 5/5 for the effort and concept and 10/5 to Hard Case Crime publishing!

Facts:

Hero:
Tricia Heverstadt, aka Trixie. Although the true hero is, of course, our editor, Charley Borden. At the end, he is considering changing his name, and Tricia suggests something easy to remember, such as Gordon or Arden. May I suggest "Ardai"?

Location:
NYC, late 50s

Body count: 
10, probably a stiff or two more because there are two shoot-outs (good guys vs. bad guys and bad guys vs. law enforcement) at the end, and it's hard to keep an accurate body count.

Dames:
Lots of them - Tricia and her sister Coral, Erin (I liked her a lot, she was a bit underused in my opinion), Renata, Heaven, Reenie, and a few other dancers/boxing fighters, etc

Blackouts: 

/

Title: 
Another example of clever writing is disguising a title into the "50" concept. Fift-to-One is a sadistic game of cards that the main villain plays with his victims. He picks up a single card from the deck and leaves his co-player with 50-1 odds to name the next one. You can, of course, imagine what happens with them in case it's not the right one... 

Cover:
Totally accurate, it describes Erin and Charley from the scene on page 36. Another great one by Glen Orbik

Cool lines:  
"Ladies, ladies, if I can interrupt this little tea party," Borden said, "we've got a big problem here. There are men - large men, angry men - who would be happy to do me great physical harm if I don't give them a piece of information you're telling me I can't give them. This is not an acceptable situation."

"Where are we going?"
"Brooklyn."
"What's in Brooklyn?"
"Cheap rent," Erin said. "And plenty of bars. And what do you find where there's cheap rent and plentiful booze?"
"What?"
"Artists," Erin said.
"Stella's  not an artist."
"No, Stella's a model.And who knows better where to find a model than artists?"

Web of the City (Harlan Ellison, 1958)

Rusty wants to quit the Cougars gang, whose leader (president) he used to be, and leave behind the violent life to become a designer. Or something. But there is no way of getting out - he's a helpless captive of this urban jungle, and things go from bad to worse when his beloved sister gets raped and murdered. Now his only redemption and way out of this mess lies in revenge.

I am aware that Ellison is one of the genre's giants, but this one doesn't do it for me. Hard to pin down the exact reason, but I would argue that, like so many other debuts, it suffers from being over-ambitious in both content and style.

It starts great; I liked its pace, and the concept of chapters being titled by the days of the week gives the book a real-time dynamic. First half takes place from Thursday to Tuesday, but then it just gradually loses its momentum - the 10th chapter is titled "Saturday a Week later" and three chapters later is just a simple "Days later". The problem, of course, is that nothing much happens after the initial prologue, introduction and actual crime; our hero wanders around pretty much lost, and his "investigation" is - well, what would you expect from 17 a 17-year-old confused and pissed off hooligan? - pretty cumbersome. Somehow, he gets into his head the idea that there simply must be a connection between the killing of his sister, a youth gang dispute (war) over the territory (turf) and some big shot drug dealer. Spoiler, fucking spoiler - there will be no connection...

Narration can be challenging to follow at times because it often includes long sections of dialogue-less pages, which further exacerbates the already mentioned lack of pace. Additionally, the narrative focuses primarily on our protagonist and his moral dilemmas. Other characters are either completely good (mom, teacher) or bad (pretty much everyone else). The city seems to be the author's constant fascination, despite its clearly negative role. After all, it is supposed to be the mighty Web that catches our innocent Rusty, isn't it? Even more difficult to comprehend are the author's sympathies for gang members. They are violent and, on more than just one occasion, a pretty sadistic bunch, but still, Ellison addresses them as "kids" or even "boys". I definitely prefer more non-sentimental depictions of the youth gangs from The Real Cool Killers.

It is written very well, full of passion, but - once again - may be too ambitious. The author tried too hard and couldn't decide if he was writing a pulp novel or more "serious" drama stuff. There's a lot of slang, which I usually enjoy, but here it's just a little too exaggerated. There is a funny moment where the slang word "procoo" is explained in - you've guessed it - slang as a "protective cust'id".

Undoubtedly good stuff and probably groundbreaking back in the 50s, as well as a great document of the era's youth gang culture. However, it was too bleak and depressing for my taste to truly enjoy it. I'll give it an extra half point for the additional short stories. Especially No Game for Children. Clever, well-plotted with a good twist and also very violent!

3.5/5

Facts:

Hero:
Rusty Santoro, 17 years old ex-leader (Prez) of the gang Cougars.

Location: 
Brooklyn, New York, "the web of the" City - One gigantic, pulsing, living mass, moving, surging, pressing, hot and sweating, carrying along with it the fever of lechery and the stink of bad hot dogs, good papaya juice, tired feet.

Body count: 
2. But in the short story No Way Out (originally published as Gutter Gang), which is more or less a chapter from the Web of the City, we do get another killing.

Dames:
Louise "Weezee" Chaplin - highly attractive girl....aware of her growing body and so the sweater was a size and a half too small.

Blackouts: 
None. But there are even three of them in the short story Stand Still and Die!

Title: 
Rusty is caught in an inescapable web of the city that doesn't let him go. To be honest, there are so many references to this metaphor that it was beginning to be a bit annoying.

Cover: 
Decent enough painting by Glen Orbik, a bit reminiscent of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers poster. But not really accurate - Rusty just fucks three chicks, but none of them actually tries to escape with him. Also, the sinister assholes pictured above them surely don't look like any kids. And NYC should be presented in the background, as it plays a major role in this one.

Cool lines:
She bought a bottle of good Scotch from the man and Rusty wondered how she knew good from bad. She didn't seem to have the brains.

Money Shot (Christa Faust, 2008)

This is just a pathetic piece-of-shit cheap pulp. Cannot really find a good way to categorise it; maybe calling it something like “hard-boiled sexploitation wanna be” isn’t far from the truth. The story is straightforward – money gets stolen, and a bunch of bad guys chase an innocent girl to get it back. It’s all pretty silly and predictable, but this is (still) not a problem, as we are used to those, and sometimes they do turn out to be okay or at least bearable.

The problematic aspect of Money Shot comes from its sexploitation angle. Its background is the porn industry, and everything in the book is linked to it. Not only the characters, but every single observation, dialogue, situation … The Author assumes that we are all totally fascinated with the dark side of the porn industry, and she portrays it as hell on earth, full of white slavers, where human life isn’t worth a dime. This would probably make sense back in the 70s when porn took off, but I find it hard to believe that these days someone would kill 10+ people for just 100 grand.

It starts as a kind of “innocent and clueless guy gets into a mess” mystery, but it soon completely loses its plot. Our poor heroine is beaten to a pulp, raped, shot and left for dead and yet for some reason she doesn’t contact the police!? And besides such obvious nonsense, we need to accept gaps in our narrator’s story like these: “I have no idea how I got away from the phone, but I did. I also had no idea how Malloy found me, but he did.” So – in short – it quickly turns into a ridiculous thriller where bodies just keep piling up, accompanied by the narrator’s “witty” comments about the porn industry. It ends with another cliché as our Angel manages to save a bunch of women from white slavery…

Characterisation is next to non-existent; we can tell who the good guys (and girls) and bad guys are the moment they are introduced. Writing is simplified to a maximum; I would say that the whole vocabulary consists of a few hundred words. I also had some trouble with its style. It is too masculine, as if Christa Faust is trying to prove that she can write even tougher crime prose than her male colleagues.

I like pulp trash in general, but this one is just too much, really. While reading it, I just couldn’t shake off the feeling that the author wrote it just to sell it to Hollywood and make another one of those Tarantino-esque extravaganzas. Just put together lots of action, sex, violence, killings, snappy dialogues, cheap humour, shady Eastern European characters and … and that’s it really. Story, what story!? A simple revenge plot will do just fine, and there’s no need for a solid story as long as you’ll be able to cast Angelina Jolie for the Angel’s role. 

2/5

Facts:

Hero:
Angel Dare, ex porn star. Now running a "modelling" agency.

Location: 
L.A., pornography capital

Body count: 

14

Dames:
There are a few other porn stars (victims), but our hero is so absorbed in herself that they are hardly relevant.

Cover: 
Completely off target, but this is probably because the book itself is titled totally inappropriately. We all know what a money shot is, and there aren't many of them here. Also, Angel cuts and bleaches her hair right at the beginning... By Glen Orbik.

Blackouts:
She gets knocked out twice and stuffed into a car's trunk.

Cool lines:
I hate malls. They're like strip clubs for women. All tease and sparkle and the empty promise that if you just drop enough cash, somehow you'll be fulfilled. 

Beard. Ponytail. Beer gut. Tattoos. He looked like one of the first three guys the hero has to fight before he can get to the real bad guy.[The Coolest!]

The Wounded and the Slain (David Goodis, 1955)

I was tricked into buying this one by the front cover, saying that the author wrote Dark Passage, and of course, being published by the one and only Hard Case Crime. Some of their rediscovered and republished stuff is just amazing, but unfortunately, this one is not one of them. And when I think a bit harder, I must admit I never really liked Dark Passage that much, also...

It starts okay with a drunken guy contemplating suicide in a bar. So you think there must be something sinister in his past, some fucked up crime that he had committed. We pretty soon realise we are in Jamaica, so there’s a possibility of some espionage cover-up secret operation. And there’s a dame on the cover, and you expect her to walk in any moment. Because they almost always do.

Well, nothing of the above turns out to be true. He’s basically drinking himself to death because he is unhappy with his life. He’s unhappy with his life because his job sucks (no wonder; he’s a Wall Street scum) and because his wife is frigid. She’s frigid because she used to be molested as a kid, but tries to push those memories deep into her subconscious. In the meantime - in her present conscious state - she’s trying to decide whether to have an affair with some guy who’s also staying at the same hotel as they are. But back to our hero – we learn that he’s also tormented because a hooker back home fell in love with him and killed herself because he didn’t return her feelings. So now he drinks. 

This finally (after app 150 pages) brings us to a crime - accidental death of a street mugger trying to rob our drunk!??! And right after we get a slim hope of some action and development, this thing really starts to fall apart. Because, for some reason not very clear to me, he doesn’t report this shit to the police, and so he gets blackmailed by some local asshole. And this leads to more moral dilemmas, inner struggles, family shit and so on.

Why was this published by Hard Case Crime? Fuck me if I know. I’m not saying they should publish just hard-boiled stuff; Nobody’s Angel was original and not bad at all, for example. But this is just depressing, messy melodrama crap that doesn’t move anywhere. Writing is good, but very bleak and passionless, which is probably intentional in order to reflect the atmosphere. There are sections totally lacking any dialogue at all, and we need to struggle through this guy's (or her) whining. Must admit I was tempted a few times to just skip a paragraph or two.

Not good, not bad, just boring and definitely not my cup of tea.

2/5

Facts:

Hero: 
James Bevan, 37. A customer's man for a Wall Street investment house. Averages $275 a week.

Location: 
Kingston, Jamaica

Body count:
A hoodlum gets himself killed in self-defence while trying to rob our hero. So technically there is a body count of one, but somehow it doesn't really count...

Dames:
A frigid wife, a hooker with a golden heart and an overweight owner of a bar. They all play some kind of role, but none is very pivotal. No femme fatale here, I'm afraid.

Cover: 
It does catch the spirit of a novel. Our hero spends most of his time drinking and contemplating his relationship with his wife. She spends her time waiting for him and contemplating having an affair. I think her facial expression is way better than his. By Glen Orbik.

Blackouts: 
A few, but they are all caused by excessive drinking.

Cool lines: 

/

The Valley of Fear (Arthur Conan Doyle, 1915)

Not good at all, I struggled to get through this one. It's divided into two parts: the first is just a classic detective mystery, and the second is truly terrible. 

It starts with Holmes receiving a ciphered message announcing some terrible crime to be committed. He, of course, easily cracks this code (a pretty obvious one in my opinion), and in no time at all, it also turns out that the dark force behind this “sinister affair” is – once more – none other than Sherlock’s mortal enemy, Dr Moriarty. 

And here is where I started to dislike the book already. Is there really a need to involve this criminal mastermind in every single crime Holmes investigates?  I’m perfectly okay about him fucking with highly secret state affairs documents, blackmailing politicians, stealing priceless artworks and so on. But come on! I find it hard to believe that in the meantime, he can manage to find time and resources for every single petty crime. But I’m a bit ahead of myself here because at this point in the book, we still don’t know that our crime is/will indeed be petty (spoiler - it is). Another thing about this Moriarty business is that he is simply introduced too early in the story. At this point, there’s absolutely no need for some ominous background; an anonymous tip would do just fine. 

So now crime has been committed and Holmes, with Dr Watson and the cop (sorry, it’s of course inspector/constable) named MacDonald (nope, no Lestrade in this one), rushes to – surprise, surprise- the English countryside to an old house (ups sorry – it’s actually called a mansion). Here they find the murdered man’s best friend, his wife and – another surprise, you won’t believe this – fucking butler! And beside these people, there’s just one more character - some mysterious and, of course, sinister stranger who has arrived at the nearby village hotel just shortly before the crime and disappeared afterwards. So Holmes has a really hard job on his hands, right? 

And we follow his unusual methods, witty observations, arrogance and so on to the final shocking conclusion. But it’s hardly some big twist since the dead guy’s face was blown off by the shotgun, and you can smell the change of identity trick right from the start.

In all honesty, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It is a good old-fashioned Sherlock Holmes mystery, maybe a bit predictable, but still quite enjoyable, although sometimes hard to follow for a non-native English speaker because of all that crappy archaic language. 

The second part is totally redundant, and I have no idea why it was ever written. It has next to nothing to do with the first one, and it gives the impression that Mr Doyle was being paid by the page. So do yourself a favour and close this book after the first part. You’ll save some time and keep the respect for the old master and his famous detective.

2/5

Facts

Hero: 
Sherlock Holmes

Body count: 
One in the first part, many in the second

Dames: 

You kidding? 

Cover: 
By Glen Orbik. I liked the colours, but the girl's facial expression could be more terrified.

Location: 
The first part starts in London and quickly moves to the English countryside. The second part takes place in some godforsaken mining town in the States.

Songs of Innocence (Richard Aleas, 2007)

This is a follow-up to Little Girl Lost, so we are back again with John Blake, and it's three years after he had rediscovered (and lost again) Miranda, the love of his life. He is now even more guilt-ridden, has left the private detective business and is working at the college where he also attends free courses, one of them creative writing. But again, it turns out he has bad luck with women because his recent girlfriend is found dead in the bathtub, and her mother doesn’t quite believe she killed herself, and neither does our hero. So the stage is ready for the investigation!

And then we are slowly drawn into this strange mixture of dark family secrets, violent organised crime, weird characters and their relationships on a student campus and so on. Lots of colourful people are introduced, and most of them far from typical stereotypes, so you are never quite sure whether they are good or bad (Michael seems to be pretty cool, but he’s definitely underused, and especially Julie is an intriguing one; in the middle, I was sure she was the guilty one). Plot is somehow linear without major leaps into the past or something like that, but it’s developed masterfully and has a few dead ends, so again, you are not sure which indices are cold ones. Events are unfolding pretty rapidly over a period of a few days, and our hero can hardly find time (and place) to get some sleep. Like in Little Girl Lost, New York City plays a significant role as a dark, sinister backdrop to the story, and you can feel the author’s love (or maybe obsession?) for the city, but here it is more toned down and less intrusive for my taste. 

Everything, except maybe a lack of wittier dialogues with some slang, reminded me sometimes strongly of Chandler’s Marlowe. More modern type of sleuth, of course (really liked stuff with internet email), but still – our hero is wandering in the big, corrupt city on his lonely, stubborn pursuit of his understanding (and of course enforcing) of justice, honour and loyalty. He’s not too sure about himself, haunted by demons from the past, beaten frequently, doesn’t trust the police, doesn’t accept much of the help and is ultimately betrayed again by his loved ones (well, kind of). He never really controls the situation, it’s more like the other way around: “I felt like the last pawn on a chessboard, rooks and knights and bishops closing in on every side. I was inching toward the far side of the board and I wasn’t going to make it”. 

Good stuff indeed, although I do have a few little complaints. First of all, John should be tougher. Being a nerd with glasses is kind of okay, but PI (even an ex one) shouldn’t really be concerned with train conductors. Also, the relationship with Dorrie is a bit strange and ambiguous; we never quite know if they were just fuck buddies or were actually in love. We do get some kind of explanation when John’s friend suggests to him that they were Porn Buddies. After he stares blankly (me too, for that matter), he does get definition, I quote: “You know - when two guys agree that if anything happens to them, the other will come over and clear out his buddy’s stash or porn before the guy’s parents or girlfriend can stumble onto it.” We learn something new every day, but somehow it still doesn’t seem realistic that he should get into all this trouble if they weren’t really that close. Finally, I’ve found the last part before the revelation to be a bit too long, and the Philadelphia episode somehow redundant. True, it introduces a key character, but I think it takes too long and slows the plot unnecessarily.

My last little rent goes to the structure of the book. The first part (of three) is told in flashback, and then the story shifts to “real time.” I find this a bit superficial and kind of pretentious. And each part starts with William Blake’s quotes that I can really connect to the story. To me, this is just intellectual crap, but probably because I’m not a native English speaker. Maybe you can give it a try. Here’s the first one, from where this little masterpiece got its title:

Can I see another’s woe,

And not be in sorrow too?

Can I see another’s grief,

And not seek for kind relief? 

William Blake, Songs of Innocence

4/5

 

Facts:

Hero: 
John Blake, age 31. Ex private investigator. He also gets some help from his ex-girlfriend, Susan, who used to be a stripper and is now a private investigator.

Location: 
NYC, briefly Philadelphia

Dame: 
Dorothy, aka Dorrie, is a student with a troubled past and a dark family history. 

Body count: 
5, maybe/probably 6 (4 murders, 1 suicide, 1 most likely suicide; 2 bad guys, 4 innocent)

Cover: 
Good and pulpy, but not very accurate. At least I can't remember any naked chick covering herself with a teddy bear and a gun. By Glen Orbik.

Cool lines:  
I don’t bother nobody. Just do my job. I’ll work for whoever pays me. I don’t care if he’s white, black, Hungarian, whatever. You show me the green, I’ll show you the pink.