Books, Lies & Alibis

I woke to some sad news this morning- Tony Hillerman had died on Sunday, October 26, 2008 at age 83.

Hillerman’s name was synonymous with fiction of the American Southwest. For many of us, his were the first mystery novels we’d read which were set in this beautiful, wild, and yes, mysterious place. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Hillerman, I probably wouldn’t have picked up other authors who wrote about the same general geographic area- Van Gieson, McGarrity, Jance, and Ault, just to name a few. I’d even be willing to bet that these authors would acknowledge a debt to Tony Hillerman for creating a readership in southwestern mysteries.

When you find an author who does just one of three things, 1) creates fascinating, complex characters, 2) tells a great story, and 3) writes beautifully, you read everything they write. When you find an author that can combine two of those traits, you read, relish, and read it again. When you find an author that does all three, well, you know you have found one of those rare jewels. There can’t be enough books written to satisfy your cravings for more.

Hillerman did all three, every time, in every book.

That’s why I always wanted more.

I think that’s one of the highest compliments you can pay an author.

So, Tony, I raise my glass to you and say, “I’ll always want more, but, I’m extremely grateful for what I got. Thank you and Godspeed.”

Q. What do call it when you drown a hundred lawyers in the ocean?
A. A good start.

Q. What do you have when you have a hundred lawyers buried up to their necks in the sand?
A. Not enough sand.

Q. What do you call a lawyer who did the world some good and became a fantastic novelist?
A. Brad Meltzer.

I’ve read them all. “The Tenth Justice,” “Dead Even,” “The First Counsel,” “The Millionaires,” “The Zero Game,” and “The Book of Fate.” While nearly all of his books deal with some aspect of the legal system, Meltzer takes the approach to not always making his main characters attorneys. A clerk for a Supreme Court Justice, a Congressional intern, and an assistant to a former President of the United States are just some of the twists that he throws into his legal thrillers. This is what we’ve come to expect from Brad Meltzer- a great “legal” story that twists and turns through a corrupt system.

And, this is the problem with “The Book of Lies.”

Some readers and reviewers have expressed disappointment with Meltzer’s newest book, accusing him of turning out a formulaic, predictable, Dan Brown-esque type of novel.

I too was disappointed with “The Book of Lies,” when I realized that this book was not similar to his previous legal thrillers. This book was different, but when I decided to give it a chance to stand on its own without comparing it to previous Meltzer novels, I found I was no longer disappointed. I had fun.

The page prior to the first chapter sets you up with an interesting thought. In one of the most well known, yet shortest stories of the Bible, Cain kills his brother, Abel. But one detail escapes us in the story. What was the murder weapon? I had never asked this question before, possibly because in a homicide thousands of years old, who really cares what the murder weapon was? Yet, Meltzer makes it a question that we want answered.

Cal Harper is minding his own business, hiding from his past, while helping to protect and shelter the homeless in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, when his father, a man who spent eight years in prison for killing Cal’s mother, suddenly appears, shot in the stomach. This reunion is what Cal has been avoiding for nineteen years, but his father needs help and he gives it to him by taking him to the hospital.

This reunion may not have been as accidental as it seems. Lloyd Harper is involved in the search for an ancient artifact, the weapon that Cain used, also known as the Book of Lies. Cal, through curiosity, becomes involved in the search, but when things go terribly wrong, finds that acquiring the Book of Lies may be the only thing that can clear his name.

The Book of Lies is tied to the history of the creation of Superman by a young Jerry Siegel in 1932, and to a secret society that will do nearly anything to retrieve the Book before anyone else. Involve a federal agent, who doesn’t know about the Book, and wants Cal and his father arrested for the murder of another federal agent, and the pace is set to an all out sprint to the finish.

Entangling history, religion, comic books and stories of forgiveness and redemption, “The Book of Lies” is an entertaining read on the lighter side of what Meltzer has done before. If I had one critique, it would be with the characters, who seemed more shallow than characters from his previous books. Normally Meltzer does a great job with characterization. In this book, Cal could have been more sympathetic and likeable, Ellis more darkly sinister, and Lloyd more in conflict with his past and present with a little more development and depth.

To those who have liked Meltzer’s previous novels but criticized him for “The Book of Lies,” I have to say- Lighten up! Just hop on board and take the ride. Be grateful that the author hasn’t gotten himself stuck in the big muddy rut that too many authors find themselves in these days.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some other lawyer jokes I need to share with my brother-in-law (He’s one of those lawyers who hasn’t done the world some good and become a novelist instead).

I’d known who Michael Connelly was, but had passed by the Harry Bosch novels on a number of occasions in order to work my way through other books and mystery series. There was no rhyme or reason to that decision.  Perhaps I didn’t find the descriptions on the book jackets compelling enough to lure me away from the large stack of books on my bedside table (there still is a stack, and it never seems to get any smaller).

In October, 2000, I found my reason to deviate from the book pile and give Connelly, and Bosch, a chance.

While in Cleveland, at a bookstore managers conference, I listened to Michael Connelly talk about the newest book in the Harry Bosch series- “A Darkness More Than Night.” It was an amazing thing to listen to an author talk so passionately about, not the book, but the character- about Bosch. He explained who Bosch was, what drove him, and how Connelly sometimes felt he was just along for the ride.  He didn’t try to sell us on his book, so much as he sold us on Bosch.  So, I picked up the books and went for the ride.

Connelly is a highly talented writer who has created a complex character whose faults are balanced by his drive to do his job, and do it well, coming out the victor (of sorts) in the end.  His character has been developed over years, and a dozen and one novels, and is one of the most interesting homicide detectives in the mystery genre today.

When I learned that Connelly was coming out with a second book about Mickey Haller, “The Brass Verdict“, and this book would include Bosch, I was excited to see how he would mix these two characters, a lawyer and a detective.  Connelly didn’t disappoint.

Mickey Haller inherits an entire practice when his former prosecutorial rival turned criminal defense friend, Jerry Vincent, is shot and killed.  Of the thirty-odd cases that are currently active, one is a whale- the trial of the century (at least for this year).  Walter Elliot, a high powered movie mogul, is accused of killing his wife and her lover when he catches them in flagrante delicto.  His alibi for the time of the killing is weak and he was the one who reported the crime to the police after finding the bodies.  Yet, he is adamant about his innocence, but strangely uninterested in the trial that could put a needle in his arm.  Haller must keep Elliot, whom he doesn’t know whether to beleive or not, focused on his own defense, while worried that his own life may be in danger from the individual who killed Jerry Vincent.

Connelly introduces Bosch early in the book, in a way that is both expected (as you know Bosch is going to show up), yet brilliantly unexpected.  We get to see Bosch through the eyes of Mickey Haller, not as a cop pursuing justice, but as an antogonistic detective, who occasionally seems willing to throw Haller under the bus.

As much as I liked the story and the way Connelly used Bosch within it, I had difficulty with Mickey Haller.  I liked him.  I liked him too much.  I liked him much more than I should like any attorney.  He has a precarious but decent relationship with his first ex-wife, a strangely initimate and non-physical relationship with his second ex-wife, who also happens to be his administrative assistant, and he gives a brand new homeless client a job as his driver and a place to sleep in his own home.  There are some minor internal conflicts with his former prescription drug addiction, a hint or two about his relationship with his father, and his attempts to keep his young daughter happy while trying to work out his relationship with his first ex-wife.  But, Mickey is too easy going, too brilliant, too intelligent, too slick.  I’d like to see Haller developed into a more complex character over the course of a few more stories.

After all Hieronymus Bosch wasn’t painted with full brush strokes in the first couple of novels.

I recommed “The Brass Verdict,” with one caveat- read “The Lincoln Lawyer” (the debut novel in the Mickey Haller series) first.

I’m conflicted; confused.

Can you like a novel and hate the main character simultaneously?

Is it possible to have a story filled with antagonists and lack a protagonist?  At that point, are they just all… agonists?

Richard Stark (one of the many pseudonyms of Donald E. Westlake) penned the Parker novels, a series of mystery stories featuring the one-named man, Parker.  The first book of the series, which I just finished, is “The Hunter.”

Here is the difficulty I had reading the book.  Parker is a real bad ass.  This guy is mean from page one.  He yells at strangers, brutalizes women, beats the living hell out of people who get in his way, and kills people who have crossed him.  He probably kicks puppies and takes candy from babies, but since neither candy nor puppies are mentioned in the book, I’m just speculating.

We meet Parker as he enters New York City, hell bent on payback for those who double crossed him on the last job that they pulled.  They forced his wife to shoot him, took his share of the money, left him for dead and burned down the house around him.  Now, seemingly resurrected, he tears into the city looking for Mal Resnick, the man who pulled off the double cross, took his share of the money, and his wife.

Revenge isn’t easy, even for a man as focused and brutal as Parker.  He has to track down Mal who is working as a manager for a criminal syndicate simply known as The Outfit.  Parker is willing to do anything and go around OR through anyone who gets between him and Mal.  He leaves a wake of death, beginning with his own wife, as she chose the wrong side.

This is not a police procedural.  This is criminal on criminal action.  In fact, the police play only a small role in the entire book, looking indifferent or inept at even tracking down a man who is creating his own killing fields in the middle of the Big Apple.

The C.S.I. procedural element is no where to be found in this or any of the Parker novels.  This is hard-boiled, violent crime fiction at its best.  There is a reason that Westlake is a Grandmaster of the Mystery Writers of America and “The Hunter” gives you a good idea why the University of Chicago Press is re-releasing this series of books under thier imprint.

I still am conflicted; confused.

I want to like the characters that I follow through to the end of a novel and Stark (Westlake) gives me no reason to like Parker.  The story, though, is like a train wreck and it is difficult to turn away from the sheer brutality of the situation.  Though conflicted about the character, I thoroughly enjoyed “The Hunter.”

Why? Whyyyyyy?

In my previous post, Can You Really Trust A Lawyer?, I recalled my conversation with William Lasher last year during an authors reception at the Mountains and Plain Independent Booksellers Association conference in Denver. My brain escaped me during this exchange and, seemingly, I could only utter the word “cool.” I resolved that this year, I would speak in whole sentences.

So, “what happened” you ask?

I moved to the opposite end of the spectrum- I couldn’t shut up.

Last year in Denver, at the same conference where I met William Lashner, I received a copy of “Friend of the Devil” by Peter Robinson, a Inspector Banks mystery. I read it. I loved it. I started reading the whole series, backwards (I know. Backwards can be problematic in a series, but my reading quirks are a subject for another post).

This year, the conference was held in Colorado Springs, and on the list to attend the author reception was, you guessed it, Peter Robinson. I was ecstatic!

The night arrived and I headed to the ballroom. Authors were seated all around the edge of the hall. Author after author with stacks of books to sign and give away to happy booksellers. For a moment, there was panic- I didn’t see Robinson. But, when the crowds parted, there he was sitting at his table chatting with booksellers and signing copies of “All the Colors of Darkness.”

I headed to the table, waited my turn, all the while reminding myself to say something more than “cool.”

And then it happened. It was my turn! I stepped forward and began to speak.

This time, I’m not repeating the conversation I had with Peter Robinson, as I did with William Lashner.

I might as well have just drooled on the table.

He signed. I talked. He smiled. I talked. I think he tried to say something. I talked. He handed me the book. I talked. He smiled again, thanked me and wished me well. And guess what? I talked.

I did finally manage to zip it, take my book, and step away (holding my book like a prize trophy). But, when approached by one of my book selling friends, I talked- about Peter Robinson (sorry Lisa).

If you’ve ever read any of the Inspector Alan Banks novels, you might understand my reaction. This series is well written, thoughtful and intense. Set in Yorkshire, England, the books are a look at English police procedure in the face of boggling murder mysteries. Banks is a flawed man, but a brilliant Inspector who, along with his partner, Inspector Annie Cabot, finds his, or Annie’s life in danger in the course of their investigations. The close personal relationship between Banks and Cabot, at one point physical, underlies all their interactions and adds a unique element to each book.

I’ve highly enjoyed every one.

I guess I should learn. When meeting authors, here are my new rules: Take a deep breath. Remain calm. Think before you speak. Speak in entire sentences. Thank them and move away.

There! I’m ready for next year.

Mr. Robinson, sorry about the one sided conversation. Do you need me to pay for the dry cleaning to get the drool out of your sports jacket?

It was just about a year ago now, September 2007, when I first met Victor Carl.

OK.  I didn’t meet Victor Carl.  That would be crazy, as he is a character in a book (and, yes, I do know the difference between fantasy and reality, thank you).  But, I did meet William Lashner, the author of the Victor Carl mysteries.

It was a dark and stormy night…

No, not really!  It was night and it was dark, at least outside, but it was quite comfortable in the hotel ballroom when thirty authors gathered together to meet a few hundred booksellers from around the western United States.  I know, my job is soooo cool.

I had been wandering the ballroom, speaking with book selling friends I hadn’t seen since the previous year, eating a few finger foods, having a drink or two, and stopping to speak with various authors as they sat at tables piled high with copies of their latest books.  Now, the whole purpose of this evening is for the authors to autograph a copy of their book, tell us a little about why we might like what they have written, and send us on our way, hoping that we will read the book, like it, and tell lots of our customers about it.  I know what you’re thinking- this is your job?  Yeah, pretty tough, but, as they say, someone’s got to do it.

I saw a stack of books with a greenish-blue dust jacket and a prominent pair of perfect red lips smack in the middle of the cover.  I was intrigued- that greenish-blue color was so inviting.  I moved a little closer.  The title at the bottom of the cover said, “A Killer’s Kiss” in a way that looked just slightly out of focus, enough to start a headache going if stared at too long.  Further intrigued, I drew a little closer.  It looked to be a mystery novel and that drew my undivided attention.

At the top of the book, in large block white letters, was the name William Lashner.  Sitting behind the table and the large pile of intriguing looking books was, you guessed it- William Lashner.  Now, right here, I will admit, I’d not read any of his books before.  I’d not heard of William Lashner.  But, I decided to take the plunge because of the greenish-blue cover.  Oh, and because of those perfect red lips (on the book cover, not on William Lashner).

The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hi.

William Lashner (WL): Hello- (he squints at my name badge), Drew.

Me: (I pick up a copy of “A Killer’s Kiss”) This looks interesting.  What’s it about?

WL: (I don’t really remember what he said right here, other than it was a fascinating explanation of a lawyer in Philadelphia who routinely walks the line between legal and illegal.  Lashner was very kind, genuine and erudite.  Damn, I wish I could remember what he said!)

Me:  Cool!

WL: (he takes the book from me and signs it)  I really hope you enjoy it.  It was very nice to meet you.

Me: Cool!  Thanks!  (and I leave).

Now, I’m sure that William Lashner remembers me and signing my book that night.  I remember acting suave and gentile and having all the right words roll right off my tongue as I held his attention with my scintillating conversation, as you can see from my recollection above.  What I do (accurately) remember, is taking that book up to my hotel room that evening and beginning to read, reading it on the airplane on the way home, and finishing it while riding the light rail train to the bookstore.

Lashner’s character, Victor Carl, is an adventure in questionable ethics, womanizing, and defending the indefensible.  He is also, engaging and likable (even if he is a lawyer) because of his humanness.  He may be trying to make a quick buck by defending the lowest common denominator in society, but in the end, Carl does what he thinks is right (not necessarily what we as the readers would consider right).  The outcomes for Carl aren’t clean and perfectly wrapped up in a concluding chapter, but that, I think, is exactly what Lashner is aiming at.  Life, and law, isn’t black and white.  There are many shades of gray and Victor Carl glides through them all, trying to do right, sometimes in the wrong way.

I finished “A Killer’s Kiss,” the seventh book in the Victor Carl series, and have gone back and read three others- “Fatal Flaw,” “Bitter Truth,” and “Past Due.”  Some are better than others, my favorite so far being “Fatal Flaw,” but all are well written and far more interesting than some of the legal mystery fluff (insert your own title here) that are sold off every grocery store stand in the U.S.  I intend to read the remaining Victor Carl mysteries shortly- “Blood and Bone,” the eighth in the series is due in January 2009.

Mr. Lashner, if you’re reading this and you remember our scintillating conversation last year (as I’m sure you do)- call me.  We’ll do lunch.  If nothing more than to prove that my conversational abilities do go beyond the word, “Cool!”

A few days ago, The Times Online (U.K.) printed a listing of the The 50 Greatest Crime Writers compiled by Marcel Berlins. It has taken me a day or two to calm down, cough my tongue back up and begin breathing again.

Number one on the list- Patricia Highsmith. Numero uno? What the hell? Highsmith was a fine writer, a wonderful storyteller, and created amazing psychological mysteries and thrillers, but #1 on the list? Does she deserve to be on the list? Of course. Number One? Absolutely not.

And what about Agatha Christie at number three? Again, a no-brainer for the list of greats, but she should have been a little further down the list. She appeared on the list above Raymond Chandler. She wrote many a great mystery and was extremely prolific. Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple are defining characters of the genre. But Christie ahead of Chandler? The formula shouldn’t include, “great stories” + “lots of books” = high position on “The 50 Greatest” list.

Chandler’s stylistic influence has had a major effect on how the modern crime fiction is written today. I think you see more of Chandler’s fingerprint on the genre than you do either Highsmith or Christie. In forensic terms, Highsmith and Christie’s fingerprint may be 6 or 7 point match, but Chandler is a 8 or 9. The formula should include “great stories” + “major influence” = high position on “The 50 Greatest” list.

Let me take my indignance to another level for a moment more- Edgar Allan Poe at Number 29? This is the man who is almost universally credited by mystery scholars as being the inventor of the mystery genre. Yes, he is probably better known for his scintillating horror stories, but the investigating detective was his creation. Crime alone might be enough to propel a story, but solving the crime whether by an amateur or professional of any stripe (private investigator, homicide detective, or nosy knitting granny) is the means of unraveling the puzzle that the drives many a reader along with the story; solving the “Who done it?” I don’t argue that Poe should be Number One, but Top Ten spot should be a given.

Now that I’ve unloaded my vitriol on that issue, the question we need to ask is, who should be number one? Or, should we have a tie and have five number fives so no one gets the top spot alone? Am I being too hard on Berlins pick of Highsmith? I don’t think so. But, if you disagree with either myself or Berlins, let me know. Give a shout out in the comments as to who you think should be number one. Are they already on Berlins list, or did he miss someone altogether?

Congratulations to Karin Fossum, author of “The Indian Bride” (translated by Charlotte Barslund), winner of the 2007 Los Angeles Time Book Award in the Mystery Category. My apologies to Ms. Fossum, as I did not prognosticate correctly a few days ago when reporting on the nominees and my guess at the winner.

Karin Fossum, who lives in Oslo, is a Norwegian author known as the “Norwegian Queen of Crime.” She is the author of five books in the Inspector Konrad Sejer mysteries and has a new novel, “Broken,” coming out in July 2008. She previously won the Dagger Award in 2005 for “Calling Out For You” (aka, “The Indian Bride”).

I look forward to reading “The Indian Bride,” as this was one of the books on the list of nominees that I hadn’t yet read.

On April 25, 2008 at UCLA, the LA Times Book Awards will be handed out to the authors of some exemplary books written in 2007. Categories for the awards include Fiction, Current Interest, and Poetry, among others. The category that holds the most interest for me, of course, is the award being given for Mystery/Thriller. The nominees are:

1. Benjamin Black, Christine Falls: A Novel (Henry Holt and Company)
2. Åke Edwardson, Frozen Tracks: An Inspector Erik Winter Novel (Viking)
3. Karin Fossum {Translated by Charlotte Barslund} The Indian Bride (Harcourt)
4. Tana French, In the Woods (Viking)
5. Jan Costin Wagner {Translated by John Brownjohn} Ice Moon (Harcourt)

Though I haven’t read each novel up for contention, I can say that Benjamin Black’s (a.k.a. John Banville) “Christine Falls” is odds on favorite to win. Black/Banville has the name, the awards and the respect on his side- he also has an intriguing story. My favorite for runner up (if there were such a thing) would be “In The Woods” by Tana French. In fact, “In The Woods” would be my choice to win if “Christine Falls” weren’t on the list. But, don’t call your bookie and place your bet on my tip. I picked New England to win the Super Bowl. Read the books and decide for yourself.

Two of my favorite things in the world- books and food. Ask yourself- how could I combine these two things that I love soooo much? Well, in Florence, Massachusetts at the Edible Book fund raising event at the Lilly Library, they’ve figured out the ultimate combination. Dishes were created that were inspired by food. For example, horse shaped cookies inspired by Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses, or a cake based on The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman.

My personal favorite, because it ties to one the books on my Sacred Shelf of 10, was the dish that won the “Best in Show” Award. John Riley of Gabrielle’s Books created Aristotle’s Second Book of Poetics a fictional book from Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose. He used baklava for the pages and lavash flat bread covered in espresso for the covers. The labels on the book were made of marzipan and licorice.

What a fantastic way to celebrate such a great book! On the other hand, knowing what I know about The Name of the Rose, would I really want to be putting that book into my mouth?

I was introduced to The Name of the Rose by one of my favorite teachers at the University of Utah. She mentioned this book in a class entitled, Intellectual Traditions of the West: The Middle Ages. Since it was a mystery book, I bought it and finished reading it in a matter of days. Each time I reread the book, it again captures my imagination and draws me deep into a place long gone and far removed.

It is 1327 and the monks of an unnamed Italian abbey are suspected of heresy. Father William of Baskerville is dispatched, along with his scribe Adso, to investigate the happenings at the wealthy abbey. From the day of his arrival, the investigation of heresy is sidetracked by the murders, one after another, of monks who live within the abbey walls- seven murders in all.

Implored by the abbot, Father William, takes to investigating the deaths using logic and evidence, deciphering coded manuscripts and entering the labyrinth of the library, of which, only a few monks understand the Ariadne-like clues that leads one into, and then back out of, the maze. It’s what is hidden within that holds not only the clue to the murders, but Father William’s rapt attention.

This book is a historical tour de force, its pages filled with unusual characters and villeins, such a Salvatore, Ubertino, Malachi and Jorge. Once picked up, it is difficult to put down. Prepare for some long nights to finish this fantastic mystery.

If anyone discovers John Riley’s cold body in the bookstore one morning. Check his tongue and finger- they may be black. It may look good as a pastry, but don’t go near that book! Read the book instead- then you’ll understand.