Rainbow Six (Tom Clancy, 1998)

This is a first: actually finishing a Tom Clancy book. In the past I have started but not completed Clear and Present Danger, The Sum of All Fears and The Cardinal of the Kremlin, and I will say that none of these are necessarily bad (all, in fact, are very well written), but undertaking politically dense techno thrillers that feature many chapters of high ranking government officials talking complex plot points was somewhat about the head of a man who, at the time, was only 20 years of age.

Rainbow Six, then, was something of a revelation. Clearly not as good a book as the others I’ve attempted (all of which I will be more than happy to revisit after this), Six is still hugely enjoyable. The plot is ridiculous (eco terrorists commit terrorist acts in order to obtain a security job at the Sydney Olympics with the plan of releasing the Ebola virus on the unsuspecting crowd) but the moments of the rainbow team doing their thing have a certain boyish charm to them. Big guns, macho men and lots of fighting, it’s like an 80’s action movie with extra technology.

I liked very much.

4/5

The Pelican Brief (John Grisham, 1992)

Much like Michael Crichton, John Grisham is a man who's style comes off as somewhat amateurish yet the stories he tells are never less than exciting. As my first foray into the world of Grisham, The Pelican Brief is a fast, action packed thrill ride that spins a complex but never confusing conspiracy mixed with chase scene aplenty.

Complaints are petty but reasonable: the prose, as stated, is a mixed bag and Grisham's language is limited and repetitive at times (I swear every other page he referred to things as "a/the little [place object/phrase here]") yet it's hard to argue with a narrative as compelling and well thought out as this.

Sometimes, you just want to read something that is simple yet requires some element of brain power. I liked it very much.

4/5

Everville(Clive Barker, 1994)

Hindsight can be a wonderful thing sometimes. Earlier this year I awarded The Great and Secret Show (TGaSS), Clive Barker's first book on The Art, a score of 4/5. This now seems somewhat unfair as, for all it meanderings and its falling quite comfortably into Barker's niche (most of his works concern an alternate world or worlds to our own), the book itself was really quite wonderful. It also left the story wide open for continuation, which is where Everville, its sequel, comes into play.

Everville does what all sequels should do: it takes the established cannon established in the original and expands. In typical Barker fashion, character that were minor in the beginning are now in the forefront and story arches that were innocuous become necessary to the narrative. The main difference between this and TGaSS however is that, having already established the world, the story flows much more smoothly. Where Quiddity featured only in the latter third of TGaSS, much of Everville is set there. The Iad have a much bigger role also and, in the book's most fascinating turn, the motivations surrounding Kissoon, TGaSS most mysterious character, are gradually explained in their entirety.

If there is anything that Everville can be faulted for, it is merely in it's placement as part two of a planned trilogy that has yet to be finished. It is obvious that Barker has intended a third part but even now, some 16 years down the line, the final part has yet to materialise, which is a shame as Everville does what all good middle child's do and creates an ever growing sense of dread. There is an end game to be played here and story arcs to finish yet, with Barker being somewhat evasive as to whether he will finish the story of The Art, fans like myself will have to wait an hope. It's a shame really as collectively, TGaSS and Everville are near masterpieces of dark fantasy.

I await the conclusion of Tesla, D'Amour and Kissoon with baited yet excited breath.

4.5/5

The God Delusion (Richard Dawkins, 2006)

Allow me to start by saying I am in no way religious. As infantile as it sounds, I just find it difficult to believe that there is one all-powerful God watching over everything. The fact that there are multiple religions also adds credence to the fact that it’s somewhat flawed. But that’s not to say that I don’t like religion as a concept. In the way that it brings people together and gives comfort to some, it really isn’t anything bad at all (expect for those who kill in the name of religion. Those people can fuck off). Call me agnostic if you will.

My problem with The God Delusion is that it attacks literally everyone that isn’t an atheist. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the same kind of speak that was responsible to the Crusades, 9/11 and the forming of the Woodsboro Baptist Church? Whilst Dawkins spews what is effectively a patronising lecture that everyone but he is wrong, there’s the fundamental problem in that neither he, nor any Church, can honestly know without a doubt that what they say is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It also completely ignores the reason for faith as it stands: that it’s FAITH. Is there anything wrong with those using religion as a comfort or as a way to better themselves? Apparently so, according to this pompous self-preaching academic.

The only thing that separates The God Delusion from the tripe that, say, Jehovah’s Witnesses pass through your door, is that it preaches a different type of alleged “fact”. But, in the bigger picture, it is no better than Protestants and Catholics screaming “my religion’s better than yours” at each other.

This book is further proof as to why I cop out and sit on the fence. A great example of someone saying: “I value your opinion, but you’re wrong.”

1/5

Let The Right One In (John Ajvide Lindqvist, 2004)

I have decided that I need to read source books before I see the movies from which they are based. With the exception of Jurassic Park, which I enjoyed both the book and film respectively, I have been disappointed with the source material, especially in this case as the book of Let The Right One In is nowhere near as enthralling or beautiful as its film counterpart.

The Swedish movie is subtle and poignant and rightfully leaves much of its narrative open to suggestion. The book, however, goes places that are not only more full on, but also much darker. Considering how much I love the movie (it was my favourite film of 2009 by a country mile) this disappointed me greatly. The deaths are more splatter-tastic and certain character motivations are just nasty. I also had issues with it's style. It appears to be all over the place borrowing all over from other established horror writers. There were moments of Stephen King, Clive Barker and even, bizarrely, echoes of William Peter Blatty. As a consequence, it seems less assured than other popular authors in the genre. It is entirely possible that this could be an effect of the book being translated from Swedish but, even so, I found it difficult to get into.

Let The Right One In, the book, was a huge let down. Another case of putting it down before I'd reached the end. Like Shutter Island, I felt watching the movie had hindered my enjoyment in that the differences in the narrative as a whole are generally minimal. I knew what would happen. From now on, I intend to read the source before watching the film as much as possible.

2.5/5

State of Fear (Michael Crichton, 2004)

It is a credit to a writer as accessible as Michael Crichton that he can make a book that is as fundamentally stupid as State of Fear so effortlessly entertaining. And when I say stupid, I don't mean unintelligent. The book is littered with well researched scientific jargon that is imperative to the flow of the narrative. What I mean is that the premise is stupid, and once you get passed the essay length facts and figures concerning global warming and the riveting action sequences that are some of the most exhilarating in recent memory, what you are left with is a book about eco-terrorists manipulating the weather for their own diabolical needs. Like I said: stupid.

But give credit where credit's due. I've made no bones about the fact that Crichton's prose is somewhat limited yet he is a man that is consistent. He is the techno thriller king and whilst I found myself laughing at much of State of Fear in terms of its ludicrousness, I couldn't help but read on. At close to 700 pages, it's lightening fast and as things got gradually most ridiculous, I found myself getting more enthralled.

But the fundamental problem, again, is its bombastic nature. If it were a movie, I'd liken it to films such as Volcano or The Core, movies that aren't any good through any stretch of the imagination but you can't help but get suckered in by. In fact, I'd quite like to see it as big dumb summer blockbuster. It reads as such.

State of Fear may not be Crichton's signature novel (that title goes to Jurassic Park) but it would fair to say it's his magnum opus. Silly but well thoughtout. It's heart's in the right place at least.

3.5/5

The Fall (Guillermo Del Toro & Chuck Hogan, 2010)

The Fall, the sequel to last years The Strain, is one of those follow ups that works much better than its predecessor. Whilst The Strain had the vampire world to set up, The Fall runs with it. We now know the key principals and their conflicts. What Del Tor and Hogan deliver here is a far more streamlined beast (it’s a full 100 pages shorter than The Strain) that delivers its exposition in a more efficient manner whilst using the sequel moniker of “it’ll get worse before it gets better” to full effect. Trust me, it’s bleak.

The only issue have is that, as being part 2 of a planned trilogy, it does feel as though it’s an exercise in moving from point A to point A, something even a movie as great as The Two Towers suffered from.

But there’s no denying this series has some punch. Part 3, The Night Eternal, will be released in a years time. I can’t wait.

And not a sparkling vampire in sight.

4/5

The Cold Six Thousand (James Ellroy, 2001)

It grieves me to say this with regards to a James Ellroy novel, especially when said novel is actually really rather good, but I had issues with The Cold Six Thousand, a shame seeing as the Ellroy novels I've read to date have been literature gold. But The Cold Six Thousand is somewhat flawed, a fact that Ellroy himself has noted and it is a novel that he agrees was written at a bad time in his life, a fact that rubbed off in about everything of it.

Taking off immediately from American Tabloid (which I still consider to be a modern masterpiece), the surviving characters are cleaning up after the assassination of JFK. Their aim: make sure Oswald acted alone. Concurrently a cop by the name of Wayne Tedrow Jr has been paid six thousand dollars to kill a pimp who resides in Dallas (hence the cold six thousand of the title). As is the norm with Ellroy, all plot points intertwine into one epic labyrinth of a plot which goes on to include the mob's take over of Las Vegas (using swindled money from Howard Hughes) and the FBI's black-ops drug operations during the Vietnam war, all of which leads to the assassinations of Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King.

As interesting as that sounds (and there are moments of absolute brilliance to be found here) I just couldn't finish it. The first thing that strikes is the prose which is at once terse and aggressive, confrontational even. The staccato delivery has gone into overdrive here and at times it's difficult to keep up with even the simplest of things. To demonstrate, a character sitting in a bar with be explained as such: "Pete sat. Pete drank. Pete perused talent. Pete eyed niggers. Pete eyed them sloooooow". The inclusion of documentation such as letters and telephone transcripts break up the simplicity but the general style is extraordinarily difficult to get into.

Whilst I also have no problem with the inclusion of difficult material, so long as it's within the context of the material (rape, racism, etc), the tough stuff here is relentless. Ellroy is known for being moral yet pessimistic, however I found that every protagonist here was utterly repugnant, a surprise considering Ellroy's usual troupe of characters but there is not a single moral compass here to latch onto. Those that are decent end up racist and those that were horrid to begin fail to redeem themselves in anyway. Spending time with these people just made me feel dirty.

I guess there will be a soft spot for this work over time but I consider it a failure. An honourable failure but a failure non the less. It is intermittently brilliant but it's a case of allowing ones personal issues get in the way of their work.

I will leave it a while before I read anymore Ellroy. For the time being I feel The Cold Six Thousand has left me desperate for something more simplistic.

3/5

Jurassic Park (Michael Crichton, 1990)

I really enjoy it when you go back to the source material of a film you love and find that the book is majorly different. As a book, Jurassic Park is more violent, features more characters and dinosaurs and has a hell of a lot more happen. But one thing it has in common with its screen counterpart is that it is also unbearably tense at times. Shame it loses it's way in the final fifty pages.

On the back of this though, I think I can confidently say that I'm a fan of Crichton. Whilst there are some of his works that I have no interest in reading (Next, Pirates Latitudes, Eaters of the Dead), for the most part his flawed prose can be overlooked to allow the reader to go with the thrill ride he's presented. I enjoyed both Jurassic Park and Airframe equally and I am now awaiting his eco-terror novel, State of Fear, with eager anticipation.

As with Airframe, I can't help but crave thrillers like this from time to time.

4/5

Dark Winter (Andy McNab, 2003)

Again, another book I’ve put down half way through but the way I see it, unless I was at the cinema I’d generally turn off a bad movie if I wasn’t enjoying it so I’m starting to feel less guilty about not sticking with a book till the end.

Along with Chris Ryan (who was also there during the Bravo Two Zero mission), McNab has now made a lucrative career of being a thriller writer. Only problem with that (and with Ryan also) is that his works are generally not very thrilling. However, having been a few years since my last foray into the world of McNab, I thought I’d give him another go. Waste of time and effort.

Dark Winter is just extremely formulaic and not very interesting. McNab far from being a bad writer, but he’s just not able to make any of his books exciting, a major handicap for someone who makes a living from the thriller genre. But for £2, I can hardly complain about too much wasted money.

And the endless pages about weapons. Never has an author made guns so boring.

2/5

Rendezvous With Rama (Arthur C. Clarke, 1973)

David Fincher angle of Rendezvous With Rama is what intrigued me the most. The director has been toying with the idea of making an adaptation for a number of years and whilst reading it I could already see it as being his 2001: A Space Odyssey. However, despite being a truly visionary work, Rama opens with fascination yet ends with as much questions left to answer as it posed to begin with, much like the final season of Lost.

The work itself is astoundingly epic. A fifty kilometre long cylinder, codenamed “Rama”, is found floating into the perimeters of our solar system. A team of scientists are sent to investigate. What they find in side is another world fitting the dynamics of an O’Neil Cylinder, (type into google, the artist conceptions are facinating). What follows is a voyage of discovery as our heroes investigate the strange new world.

What is fascinating about this work is the logistics and the physics of having a world that occupies the circumference of a spinning cylinder. Through the centre of the craft, the gravity is zero, yet as they reach the outer rim, therefore the ground, it increases due to the spin. The science seems legit and endlessly enthralling.

However, the latter half of the book fails to live up to the initial intrigue. Once the ship comes alive, it loses its ambiguity and becomes less interesting than when the craft was effectively derelict. Whilst it remains a decent read, more avant-garde aspect of the ship’s design are never explained and at the end, it leaves never to be seen again, leaving the reader somewhat frustrated.

But it’s hard not to ignore the fascination of its set up and for that, Rendezvous With Rama is recommended. This is what I expect from a decent science fiction novel.

4/5

Thinner (Stephen King, 1984)

Basic set up: obnoxious over-weight lawyer gets off light for a hit and run accident. Unfortunately, the victim’s father, a gypsy man as hockey as you’d expect, puts a curse on our hero that will cause him to lose around three pounds a day in weight until he dies.

Simple yet wholly satisfying.

King (writing under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman) runs with the simple premise and pens a yarn that never outstays its welcome. At a mere 340 pages, it’s lean and to the point and unlike the last King book I read (the rubbish Insomnia), it doesn’t delve into pretentious waffle. King knows the idea is hockey and plays it as such whilst delivering great moments of nastiness and a wonderfully bleak ending.

Consider it a B-picture to the genuine masterpieces of King’s work.

4/5

Airframe (Michael Crichton, 1996)

Michael Crichton (who sadly passed away in 2008) made a very lucrative career out of novels like this: techno-thrillers that relied very heavily on genuine facts and figures to produce a compelling fictional narrative.

The plot of Airframe is effectively an episode of Air Crash Investigation with added corporate espionage. It’s also a great ride. Crichton very rightly leaves the big reveal to the final few pages yet keeps the reader guessing throughout. Much like Brown’s Deception Point (a book as equally flawed stylistically but just as thrilling), the reader can guess the conclusion will end in a satisfactory manner yet the journey there is riddled with turns of the unexpected.

Like a rollercoaster, you sometimes just want a brief thrill. This book certainly delivers on the front.

4/5

Dune (Frank Herbert, 1965)

I tried, really I did. I’ve been getting into a bad habit of late of giving up on books half way through and with Dune; I was determined to get there. But, alas, it was not meant to be. Whilst the book itself is perfectly fine, well-written and loaded with ideas that are exciting and innovative for a science fiction novel, it’s just too heavy with ideas to flow well (for me at least).

The main problem, with me at least, is that Dune reeks of a fantasy set in the future in deep space. I have general problems with fantasy and find that science fiction, a genre I’ve only recently gotten interested in thanks to the excellent The Forever War, can often times be intrinsically linked. Dune is a perfect example of this. Whilst it features a far off planet, space travel, special habitat suits and worms the size of Norway; the narrative is bogged down with quasi-religious philosophy that I found intensely hard to swallow. This itself with frustrating as there is nothing overly wrong with the book for the most part: the prose is terrific and it’s ideas are at least interesting but with endless chapters devoted to prophecies and the training of ancient arts, I just found it too much to take in, a shame as I can see why it’s been heralded as a classic.

That said, it has done little to dampen my interest in science fiction. I have just bought Ringworld and Rendezvous With Rama, which I am very excited to read. But I think I’ll delve into something a little less cerebral.

3.5/5

Jaws (Peter Benchley, 1974)

Jaws is a novel with minimal shark action that is populated with entirely hateable characters, a sentiment shared by the man that would later direct the film adaptation. Said adaptation jettisons much of the cumbersome back story (Hooper's affair with Brody's wife, Mayor Vaughn's ties to organised crime) and drastically changes the dynamics of the main players: In the film Brody and Hooper are pals, here they hate each other. The problem is that the populous of Amity are deeply unlikable. Brody comes across as confrontational then immediately defensive, Ellen (his wife) isn't thankful for anything she has and Hooper is a young spoiled rich cunt that spends most of the time either bounding with naïve abandon or sulking whenever he gets bitch slapped. Quint is the only constant and every bit as intriguing as his portrayal on screen.

It does, however, pick up toward the last third. Despite a discernable lack of flow at the start (seriously, for a book about a killer shark, all of about fifteen pages is dedicated it), once the hunt for the epominous beastie starts it somewhat earns it's thriller moniker. Much like the film, the tension is palpable, if a bit brief in literature form. It's just a shame that so much time is wasted getting there.

It's ok. There are those I know that loved it and whilst the prose is perfectly fine (Benchley actually has a dab hand at this whole writing thing), it wears it's flaws on its sleeve in bright fluorescent colours.

3/5

Insomnia (Stephen King, 1994)

This is the first Stephen King novel since Dreamcatcher that I’ve put down half way through.

Seriously, what the fuck is up with this book? Whilst the initial set up is interesting, the piece is horrifically over-written (another case of too little editing) and delves into territory that is not only ludicrous but also utterly bonkers. Firing beams of light from people’s fingers? People’s souls manifesting as balloons on strings? This is supposed to be a horror novel, not a comedy. Strands of the plot are so flat out mental that it immediately takes you out of the narrative. I shook my head on more than one occasion out of sheer disbelief. Only a couple of years before King had delivered what I now believe to be his last truly great non Dark Tower work, Needful Things, a book that warrants a 700 + page length in terms of it’s epic scope and huge array of characters. Insomnia is only the same length due to King’s inability to reign it in. The author himself, in his excellent memoir “On Writing”, even admits that this and his subsequent novel “Rose Madder” are his most over-written of his works. No shit.

Other than the fact that, as always, King’s style is effortlessly readable, I would advise avoiding this one. It really just doesn’t work.

2/5

The Woman in Black (Susan Hill, 1983)

Breezy and somewhat effective little chiller, The Woman in Black is no mastepeice and is, in fact, very much bested by its stage-play counter part, which remains the single most frightening experience of my life. The things is that it's difficult to get the chills across not only on the page but within the confines of a story that is no longer than 150 pages. Written very well (attempting to channel the prose of classic fiction and succeeding) The Woman in Black is by no means bad but, at the same time, is instantly forgettable.

See the play. If you like a good fright, the play is the thing to see.

3/5

The Big Nowhere (James Ellroy, 1988)

To say The Big Nowhere is not as good as American Tabloid is like saying Donnie Brasco isn’t as good as The Godfather. Nowhere is far from bad, it’s just difficult to be anywhere near as good as one of the greatest novels ever written.

Coming off as a sub-par L.A. Confidential, The Big Nowhere was the first book in Ellroy’s world that utilised the three-pronged approach of merging three separate characters and story threads and funnel them into one labyrinth narrative. Events that seem innocuous to start become significant and as the revelations begin, the bigger picture, in true Ellroy fashion, is shocking.

However, in being his first foray into the triple narrative he has become known for, at times the juggling of the separate threads seems messy, and in cramming so much into such a short page count (in comes in at about 450), it is easy to get lost in the wealth of plot, which I did, frequently.

But Ellroy really knows how so tell a complex and compelling yarn and despite my problems with The Big Nowhere, it still remains compelling and shows Ellroy’s flair for street vernacular and a pessimistic, albeit, moral world view (the first truly decent character I’ve experienced in his works ends up dead in a rather gruesome manner). If something of this quality turns out to be his worst book, I cannot wait to delve further into his world.

4/5

American Psycho (Bret Easton Ellis, 1991)

American Psycho is, without a doubt, the most violent book I have ever read. The scenes of torture and murder go further than anyone, even a hardcore gore-hound, would want to go. But it isn’t needless violence for the purpose to shock (although shock and disgust are definitely what you feel). Our protagonist is psychotic, insecure and has a desperate need to fit in and, in being a book that is told in the first person narrative, his psyche is portrayed as that of a manic and fractured obsessive, so whilst the violence is told in a truly horrific, graphic and casual manner, so is everything else, like sex (which is the literary equivalent of hardcore porn) and everyday mundane events, like what people are wearing, with entire chapters devoted to Bateman’s musical preferences and items that he’s furnished his house with. The narrative itself is fractured also, never fitting what would be a conventional structure, just many random moments from Bateman’s life thrown together, adding cadence to the mundane and nonchalant ways in which he describes things (be it having dinner with a colleague or fucking a severed head).

The satire on the yuppie culture is not so much implied as it is up front and centre, with every character portrayed as a repugnant, self-centred weasel. Everyone, Bateman included, are confused as to who many of their acquaintances are, due to all looking and dressing the same, and when Bateman states quite clearly that he is psychotic, many either aren’t listening or hear something else entirely (murder and executions is mistaken for mergers and acquisitions). The men are especially horrid, mainly toward women, with Bateman’s killings emphasising as such, albeit in an extreme and hideous fashion.

Controversial? Yes. Harmful? No. Brilliant? Most definitely. What Ellis does is cleverly hide the social subtext with a near pornographic sensibility. There is a purpose for the debauchery, it is not needless. It’s just a shame, as always, that the sex and violence is what it’s remembered for, not the dark streak of humour or the fact that it is excellently written.

I will definitely read more Ellis after this. Glamorama or The Rules of Attraction maybe.

5/5

The Alexander Cipher (Will Adams, 2007)

I must confess, I didn’t finish this book. I guess I have issues with the whole adventure genre as a whole as I loathe the works of Clive Cussler and, despite being enjoyable, I still have issues with the works of Dan Brown. The Alexander Cipher is attempting to jump onto that bandwagon by utilising historical fact (in this case, the story of Alexander the Great) and spin an adventurous yarn from it.

The only problem is it aint worth shit.

I got about half way through, which is good considering how bored I was. It is clear that the author’s interests rest solely in the history of Alexander the Great and whilst that in itself isn’t a problem, it becomes one when that’s all the book is. For and adventure novel, there’s not a lot in the ways of actual adventuring and when there is something that could be construed as an action beat, it takes up all of two sentences. At least Dan Brown, a man whose writing prose is limited at best, knows for the most part how to keep the reader engaged, balancing the action and the exposition enough to make it an exciting read (apart from The Lost Symbol, which was frightfully dull). Will Adams, a first time writer, just seems interested with people talking at length about history. You know, for an adventure story, that’s a bit boring.

I genuinely feel bad if I put a book down half way through but I’d run out of patients with this one. Kinda put me off reading for the time being too.

2/5

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Jane Austin & Seth Grahame-Smith, 2009)

As an idea it’s rather amusing but in practice it doesn’t work. Whilst reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, it becomes apparent how amateurish the mash up is. The moments of Austin’s novel and the newer added zombie mayhem added by author Seth Grahame-Smith are so far removed from each other not just in content, that much is obvious, but in writing prowess also that they just don’t gel together at all. There are long lingering sections that are clearly part of Austin’s original work and then, just as boredom is about to set in, Grahame-Smith adds some mayhem. That’s about the extent of it. No witty and dense reworking of the novel, just a bunch of added scenes that feel as though the imposter author has glued them to the original manuscript.

On the back of this I will not be reading the humorously titled follow up Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. If it is like this one it’ll just be rather boring.

And to think the addition of zombies and ninjas would make it any more readable.

2/5

Night Show (Richard Laymon, 1984)

I think I'm going to have a sleazy yet fortuitous relationship with Richard Laymon. He doesn't beat around the bush and immediately revels in all things exploitation. Plots are basic, body counts are high and there's always a high element of perversion in the way nudity and lust are portrayed.

Night Show is book one in Volume 3 of his omnibus collection (there are 17 volumes in all) and tells the story of a man desperate to get into the world of horror VFX because of a bizarre fixation to scare seven shades of shit out of people. However, one of his victims has been mentally scarred by one of his pranks and seeks vengeance.

Whilst his writing prowess is limited, Laymon doesn't half know how to spin a good yarn. It doesn't intend to be anything more than the literature equivalent of a cheesy slasher flick and, in that respect, it succeeds admirably. It's a huge riot that never bores.

My only problem with the three novels I've read of his are that they're over too quickly. I think the next time I indulge with Laymon, it'll be one of his longer novels like Island or Quake or Funhouse (has a certain Point Horror vibe to it wouldn't you say).

I'm slowly falling for this man's perverse mind.

3.5/5

Batman: Dark Victory (Jeff Loeb & Tim Sale, 1999)

The only beef I have with Batman: Dark Victory is that it's a novel that relies on you having read it's predecessor (The Long Halloween) to understand what's going on. Fortunately, I have and whilst Dark Victory follows a very similar premise to Halloween (Batman, Gordon et al are on the search for a serial killer who murders on holidays), it is, in true sequel fashion, it is a continuation rather than a retread, with character motivations and plot points consequential of events that happened in the previous novel.

Like most of the prominent Batman graphic novel, Dark Victory is dark, brutal and somewhat pessimistic. You can see key influences in terms of style and dialogue that Christopher Nolan pinched for his epic Batman sequel and whilst Dark Victory is not as well known as The Long Halloween (which, in fairness, is the one where much of The Dark Knight's style came from), it's something of a shame as it is equally interesting and shocking. I didn't even mind that they introduced Robin.

I am somewhat biased towards anything in the Batman-verse but I liked Dark Victory as much as the likes of The Long Halloween, The Dark Knight Returns and The Killing Joke. Jeff Loeb and Tim Sale collaborated on yet another Batman novel called Haunted Knight and have given Catwoman her own yarn called When In Rome (set during her six month disappearance in Dark Victory) both of which I'm eager to read.

Batman is my homeboy.

4.5/5

American Tabloid (James Ellroy, 1995)

Think JFK by way of the film adaptation of L.A. Confidential and you have American Tabloid.

I have always been fascinated with much of modern American history dating from the communist witch hunts of the 50's through to Watergate and the Frost/Nixon interviews. It's this back drop that Ellroy uses as the basis of his Underworld USA trilogy (Tabloid is followed by The Cold Six Thousand and Blood's A Rover) and whilst much of what happens is based around real life moments in history such as J. Edgar Hoover's continued crack down on communism and the Bay of Pigs fiasco, the central figures are entirely fictional, as are their actions. The Kennedy's, Hoover, Jimmy Hoffa and Howard Hughes are all prominent figures in the narrative but this is Ellroy's take on America and, as such, there's a seedy underbelly that is exposed and a world where everyone, no matter how good their intentions, ends up corrupted or chewed out.

Whilst there were certain historical moments that were skimmed over (the Cuban missile crisis is only mentioned in passing), for the most part, the book is near note perfect. The initial set up of labyrinth connections and sub plots pay off in spades as the narrative is given room to breath in the middle act, all of which is neatly rounded up in the build to the assassination of JFK. There are crosses, double crosses, double and triple agents whose loyalties are tested when all sides they're infiltrating end up at odds with each other. There are no heroes here, only varying degrees of filth and even the historical figures, most noticeably Jack and Bobby Kennedy and J. Edgar Hoover, are portrayed in a scathing light.

As a complex tale of greed, corruption and political espionage it's a winner. As a character study of those involved in politically motivated organised crime you end up hating everyone. And the main crux here is involvement. From the blistering set up, Ellroy's prose and staccato, urban language put you in the time frame where violence is a necessary evil and casual racism is a way of life (one character is a die hard member of the Klu Klux Klan).

If you haven't read any Ellroy I recommend you start here. Hand's down one of the finest novels ever written. It makes you feel somewhat dirty afterwards but it's seriously compelling and gripping stuff.

It was Time magazine's novel of the year (1995) for a reason.

5/5

The Killer Inside Me (Jim Thompson, 1952)

“Probably the most chilling and believable first-person story of a criminally warped mind I have ever encountered,” boasts the cover of pretty much every copy of Jim Thompson’s controversial novel. The quote comes from Stanley Kubrick and whilst I did find the first-person account genuinely unsettling at times, I wouldn't rave about it as much as he did (though it still is very good).

Arguments have stemmed with regards to both the book and it’s recent 2010 film adaptation in terms of its violence, especially concerning the violence directed at women. Whilst I don’t condone the nature of these chapters (and can imagine that they’ll be very difficult to watch on film) they do what they’re supposed to do: make the reader feel physically repulsed. The casual nature of the narrative is, as Kubrick said, quite chilling and the sharp bursts of misogyny from a man who eventually goes on to explain his general hatred for women are shocking and horrid. Coupled with the fact that much of the rest of the violence our protagonist commits is never really dwelled upon in nearly as much detail makes those moments of misogyny all the more repugnant. Did I like them? No. I find them somewhat problematic and in light of the new film, the debate on their necessity will be a long drawn out affair.

The unfortunate thing is that these moments overshadow the rest of the narrative, which, by all accounts, is a well thought out and very compelling noir novel. It’s brief at only 220 pages but as Lou Ford’s situation worsens the dread permeates throughout. Especially after the protracted scenes of violence, the fact that he is the narrator does nothing the stem the readers’ hatred for a man as despicable as he.

Had it not been so misogynistic, I probably would’ve enjoyed it a hell of a lot more. I just can’t find any reason for those chapters other than to shock.

4/5

The Girl Who Played With Fire (Stieg Larsson, 2006)

As far as sequels go, The Girl Who Played With Fire (TGWPWF) ups the anti in pretty much every way. This time round, our girl of the title, Lisbeth Salander, is on the run after being implicated in the murder of three people, all of whom happen to be involved in the exposing of Sweden’s sex trafficking business. As with it’s predecessor, everything is far from what it seems and what follows is a labyrinth thrill ride that, whilst having a certain element of disbelief, jumping the shark if you will, come the final reveal (something The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (TGWTDT) managed not to do), the journey there is much faster paced and thrilling till the cliff-hanger climax.

So why only 4 points instead of 5? Well again, like TGWTDT, this one suffers from a workman like prose that almost hinders the story. Think Dan Brown but not quite as ridiculous. Also, the first 200 pages are just flat out dull, with Salander taking a year long break in Caribbean that includes a sub-plot that not only goes nowhere but also does nothing to add to the main narrative. Larsson also seems obsessed with the mundane. Frankly, I don’t give a tinkers fuck what Lisbeth decided to buy in IKEA whilst refurbishing her apartment, yet Larsson, in the books most painfully dragged out sequence, spends pages telling us.

But, after putting up with the boredom, I was rewarded with a hugely entertaining piece of pulpy modern crime fiction. The twists are satisfying, the plot progression seems almost pitch perfect and there are plenty of characters you love to hate. I don’t think it’s as good as the first one (although that itself was scuppered by it’s final 100 pages) but it’s also quite a bit different.

There will be a good long pause before I move onto the final chapter, The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest. In the meantime I might indulge in some more James Ellroy, having just purchased his Underworld USA trilogy.

4/5

Blockade Billy (Stephen King, 2010)

Whilst being quite enjoyable to read, the main problem with Blockade Billy is that it’s ultimately a pointless endeavour. At only eighty pages long, it begs the question as to why this was released as a separate publication when there have certainly been longer works in King’s back catalogue that were part of his ever growing collections of short stories (e.g.: The Mist in Skeleton Crew and The Little Sister of Eluria in Everything’s Eventual).

It’s still pretty good though. Not a masterpiece but certainly no failure. In typical King fashion the story centres around a baseball player by the name of William “Blockade Billy” Blakely who, whilst being very popular, harbours a dark secret. As it turns out, said secret isn’t anything we haven’t read about before in King’s work and as it turns out, the majority of the time is spent setting up how great the man is at baseball. King is obviously an avid fan of the sport but after the first game, it gets a little tiring, even at such a short page count.

It’s entertaining enough. I would consider it a middling story if it were included in a collection.

It also comes with a “Bonus Story” called Morality, which is almost the same length. I haven’t read it yet.

3/5

The Forever War (Joe Haldeman, 1974)

The closest I’ve delved into science fiction, in terms of literature at least, would be Stephen King’s The Tommyknockers, which despite featuring extraterrestrials, is most definitely a horror story whichever way you cut it. My problem with sci-fi has always been the fundamental similarities the genre has with fantasy, a genre that I have always struggled to get into. So when a friend of mine recommended The Forever War, I was immediately sceptical.

As it turns out, it now ranks as one of my favourite books. It deals with the very nature of light travel and the repercussions of relativity in terms of travelling from one side of the galaxy to the other through wormhole like gateways named colapsars. In essence, although our protagonist is enlisted in the war for what feels like four years, back on earth well over 1000 years have past. In that time, the human population has grown out of control and, as a way of birth control, the world governments have actively promoted homosexuality to the point where being heterosexual is considered abnormal.

I loved it. It reminded me of a more anti-war version of Starship Troopers without the bugs. The scenes of war are brutal and intense (as is the initial training regime that opens the book) and the ramifications of coming back to such a radically changed world is just fascinating.

It’s bleak and is quite openly anti-war (Haldeman himself is a veteran of Vietnam) but I don’t think I have read a book quite so engrossing and brilliantly written since Stephen King’s Wizard and Glass.

It is up in my top five books of all time for sure.

5/5

It's Only A Movie (Mark Kermode, 2010)

Mark Kermode has fast become my favourite critic due to his fast paced opinionated rants that make me laugh heartily (with the benefit of an uber quiff I might add). He is a man that has a vehement hatred for Pirates of the Caribbean yet digs the Twilight saga, see Basic Instinct 2 for what it is (a knowing wink at the camera) and was there when Werner Herzog was shot with an air rifle.

His memoir, named after the famous add campaign of Last House on the Left (Keep repeating…It's only a movie…only a movie...), is breezy and very funny, his prose identical to his verbal outbursts on 5 Live. The anecdotes mentioned include getting lost in Russia, his first experience with The Exorcist (his favourite film), being thrown out of the Cannes screening of Lars Von Triers' The Idiots whilst hurling obscenities in bad French and, of course, witnessing Werner Herzog getting shot, all of which is funny and self referential.

It's a little too breezy to be great but I don't think I've had so much fun reading a book in a long while. Thank-you Dr. Kermode…and Jason Issacs.

4/5

Coldheart Canyon (Clive Barker, 2001)

Much like Barker's last novel, 2007's Mister B. Gone, Coldheart Canyon suffers from writing that is sub-par compared to most of the author's earlier work. It is a book in desperate need of editing down and touching up as, despite being far from bad (in actual fact I enjoyed the hell out of it), at times it comes off as infantile, akin to the over active imagination of a teenager.

It also suffers in it's length. Unlike The Great and Secret Show (which, whilst being long, somewhat justified being epic), Canyon does not have enough ideas to warrant a length of 751 pages, thus, by page 300, it has slowed to a crawl. Barker spends needless time detailing the debauchery the Canyon has fallen into, where orgies are common place as well as extreme sadomasochism. The detail is beyond graphic. Barker clearly revels in his hedonistic side here but, in terms of serving the story, it does not further the plot in any way, making it's inclusion unnecessary.

That said, if you can muscle your way passed this 200 page lull, the rest is a belter. One thing Barker is an expert at is setting up and ending his stories, spending enough time on both that, once the novel comes to a close, there is a great wave of satisfaction. The build up to said climax is terrific and once the reader is passed the debauchery, the plot lets rip with chases and skirmishes aplenty. The story progresses naturally and whilst there is still Barker's trademark flair for gore (one poor soul has her vagina ripped open), it does not hinder the experience.

I have, however, had enough of Barker for the time being. Just looking at my copy of Imajica, a mammoth undertaking at 1200+ pages, is somewhat disconcerting.

4/5

Just After Sunset (Stephen King, 2008)

Just looking back at this blog shows me how much Stephen King I tend to read. There’s something about him that his writing, even the relatively bad stuff, that makes you keep reading.

This collection of short stories doesn’t have anything nearly as memorable as, say, The Mist, The Raft or 1408 but what is here is consistent and thoroughly enjoyable. Stand-outs include Willa (and non-horror story featuring ghosts), Graduation Afternoon, Rest Stop and N. (the latter of which s deeply disturbing).

I’m just happy to see that King is back to is old self again. Gone is the workman-like writing that plagued his post-accident work and back is a writer who has almost returned to full form.

His newest novella Blockade Billy is in the post and I’m awaiting his next book, a series of four short novels called Full Dark, No Stars with glee.

4/5

The Zombie Survival Guide: Recorded Attacks (Max Brooks & Ibraim Roberson, 2009)

Very brief but enjoyable visual accompaniment to Max Brooks’ Zombie Survival guide. Taking a handful of the stories from the book’s Recorded Attacks section, illustrator Ibraim Roberson gives Brook’s prose a grotesque spectacle that make me want a faithful movie adaptation on World War Z even more.

Very quick but I like it a lot.

4/5

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (Stieg Larsson, 2005)

Whilst The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo suffers from a horridly simple, almost workman-like writing style and is let down by it’s last hundred pages, it is still hugely enjoyable and effortlessly enthralling. The premise of a recently convicted journalist for the crime of libel being hired to investigate the forty year old disappearance of a wealthy businessman’s niece is packed with enough twists and nastiness to make even the moments of downtime riveting. The late Stieg Larsson, being and investigative journalist himself, throws all he knows into the narrative, creating moments of tension out of characters sitting around chatting conspiracy and looking over forty year old evidence.

My major beef comes within the last hundred pages. With the main narrative concluded, Larsson insists on rounding up the libel case that opened the book and in having the epominous girl with the dragon tattoo being an expert computer hacker, our heroes not only win too easily but the manor in which they do so seems somewhat contrived. Need impossible evidence to convict the man you’re after? Lisbeth Salander to the rescue. She’s too much like hackers you see in movies like Swordfish. A couple of taps at the keyboard, the use of a back door here, the use of a decoding encryption there and viola! All the incriminating information you need. It’s weak, sloppy and a tad unnecessary. And it certainly did not need a hundred fucking pages dedicated to it.

But it did at least make me want to read the next two, which I have ready and waiting. The Girl Who Played With Fire, its immediate sequel, focuses on Salander on the run after being accused of murder. A much more bare bones and more enticing prospect after this labyrinth plot line.

4/5

Bag of Bones (Stephen King, 1998)

I actually still have about 170 pages left of this to read but, seeing as the major climactic plot development has already happened, I really don’t think there’ll be a whole lot else to say and much more before the end that will sway my opinion.

Bag of Bones is intermittently excellent but is far too long. The story of an author who suffers from severe writers block after the sudden death of his wife, the narrative is split between two concurrent plot threads: the first being our protagonist’s move to his summer lodge in Sara Laughs (just outside the fictional town of Derry, featured in It and Insomnia) and his subsequent involvement in a bitter custody battle between a billionaire software mogul and his daughter in law. The second being Sara Laugh’s dark and cursed past, a past that is visited upon our hero from the moment he arrives at the cabin.

The main problem here is the ghost story element, a superfluous story thread that feels added purely on the basis that this is a Stephen King novel, therefore necessary. It just doesn’t work. The real meat here is the custody battle. It is this stuff that saves the book from being too dull to give up on half way through. It’s compelling and tense, and, in true King fashion, goes in directions you wont see coming. In Max Devore, King gives us another villain you just love to hate, a horrid, bitter old man who is determined to gain sole custody of his granddaughter through any means.

A fair effort but definitely marks the start of King’s downfall pre and post accident. Oddly though, I’m finding I’d like to try From a Buick 8 again.

3/5

The Great and Secret Show (Clive Barker, 1989)

There’s something about Clive Barker in that something as flawed and over-written as The Great and Secret Show can still captivate me despite being overly long. The basic premise of two warring men (The Jaff and The Man Fletcher respectively) fighting over The Art, a power that can lead to the sea of Quiddity, the nexus of everything, is filled with Barker’s twisted yet limitless imagination and, for the most part, reads like a rip-roaring ride of fantasy mixed with Barker’s own take of the nature of existence (something that features heavily in his later fantasy novels like Weaveworld, Sacrament and Imajica). Yet it’s this endless imagination that is the books ultimate undoing in that, in being unable to contain himself, Barker has fashioned a narrative that seldom knows when to stop indulging.

That’s not to say The Great and Secret Show is bad, just a bit long winded. At nearly 700 pages with text to rival the Lord of the Rings in terms of size, there is much in the latter half of the book the could have been scrapped. Tommy-Ray’s escapades as the Death Boy, whilst interesting, are not needed and do little more than pepper the main narrative with extra garnish. Oddly, the same can be said for the central love story that ultimately fuels the plot but comes as nothing at the end. The main interest lies in secondary characters like Grillo and his female companion Tesla, who drive the latter half of the novel once the shit really hits the fan.

But, whilst being a tad flowery at times, Barker style is at once engaging and holds a certain air of eloquence that makes the remarkable seem as such and the grotesque something to admire. The Jaff’s main weapon is to fashion monsters by exploiting people’s fear and bleeding them out through the victim’s pours. Not as nasty as Weaveworld’s decaying witch that spits out deformed foetuses, yet is far more disturbing.

I like The Great and Secret Show very much, despite its indulgent nature. It’s brimming to the surface with ideas and would be a classic of the fantasy genre if only it kept such ideas in check. I’m hoping its sequel, the 1996 novel Everville, will do just this.

4/5

Shutter Island (Dennis Lehane, 2003)

I think after this I'd rather read the book before seeing the film. Dennis Lehane is popular but after getting 200 pages into Shutter Island (and easy feat seeing as the print is mashoosive) I wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe my opinions are tainted by the fact that I really enjoyed the hell out of the movie but Lehane's writing prose is limited. There's a workman-like sensibility to it, almost akin to a "my first popular novel". Everything is skimmed over with no depth, and considering much of the plot revolves around one man's descent into madness and its subsequent repercussions, depth is something that is drastically needed.

Reading the book seemed somewhat superfluous as, in essence, the movie is identical. Much of the story is the build to the inevitable Big Reveal but seeing as I already knew what said reveal would be, half way through I found myself wondering what's the point? None of the images presented, especially during the dream sequences, have the same impact as they do on film. It's like a film's script (which was, admittedly weak and I now see why) without the Scorsese flair. In fact, having now read the book, I'm not sure if the film would have appealed much at all.

Shutter Island is one of those books where you know that you, as an amateur writer, can do better.

2/5

Horns (Joe Hill, 2010)

If anyone were to ask me who I'd be reading in twenty years time the answer would come easily and without hesitation: Joe Hill.

I loved Heart-Shaped Box and whilst his collection of shorts (20th Century Ghosts) contained a few duds, for the most part they were excellent, the likes of Pop Art and Last Breath in particular, were works of an exciting new talent. But it has also been a while between projects (H-SB was released way back in 2007) so my anticipation for Horns was near astronomical by the time of release. But this gap also shows Hill's determination not to release sub par material. Having worked for a year on a novel titled The Surrealist's Glass, he admitted that it just wasn't working and rewrote it to what eventually became Horns. We'll never know which manuscript was better but considering how good Horns is it hardly matters.

Horns is also a very different beast from H-SB. Effectively a story about a man possessed with the powers of Satan, the forefront of the narrative is about the character's motivations and what led them to decisions that ultimately ruined the lives of the four key players. It's Merrin's murder that is the catalyst but she is just as much a protagonist as Iggy, our "hero" who seems to acknowledge the fine line between good and evil and that sometimes, evil will benefit more. As such, two of the five main sections of the book are told in flashback, detailing our character's lives from the age of 15 to the night of Merrin's death. It's compelling stuff and one trump card that Hill has managed, with H-SB also, is his ability to tell enough back-story without bogging the reader down, something his father (Stephen King) has failed to do on numerous occasions.

But, this being a story about the devil, there is debauchery aplenty and, in places, it’s filthy. It doesn't quite trump H-SB's ghost crawling out of the mouth moment or anyone masturbating to a snuff film with a pistol in their mouth but someone does die after having a snake crawl down their throat.

I loved it. Having read 90 pages, I sat down on Sunday for a quiet hour to read and ended up finishing it. Both Horns and H-SB have their good and bad moments and whilst I would honestly say that it's difficult to differentiate between the two in terms of quality, Hill's sophomore effort is step up in terms of maturity and writing prose. I just hope that it isn't another three years before his next one.

I’d like to see him try something epic next time. Maybe a zombie apocalypse?

5/5

The Birthing House (Christopher Ransom, 2008)

Beyond terrible.

I wont spoil it for those that want to give this one a try but, with an opening line as lazy, in your face and hackneyed as it has, this book was doomed from the start. To say it's poorly written is so far beyond stating the obvious it’s a joke and never once was it remotely scary. It's the first book in well over a year that I've put down before finishing. I even gave it away to a colleague just to be rid of it.

At least I have Horns by Joe Hill to read now. Now that is a man who can write a book.

Just avoid this one if you can. It fucking blows.

1/5

The Library Policeman (Stephen King, 1990)

Certainly not King's best work.

Having read The Langoliers, the first of his novellas in Four Past Midnight (it is also excellent), I had high hopes for this one, book 3 to The Langoliers book 1. I don't know what I was expecting but a promising start is squandered by a generic shape shifting beast story line that has many similarities with 'It'. It whisks along quickly enough (at 250 pages it's quite brief) but it's also nothing better than serviceable.

The initial arrival of the Library Policeman is scary as hell though. "Come with me thon, I'm a poleethman." Terrifying.

3/5

On Writing (Stephen King, 2000)

Any and all books entitled "How To Write" and such can now, officially, fuck off. In reading Stephen King's non-fiction memoir On Writing (a mix of autobiography and lessons of the craft of storytelling) I have learned more than any English lesson I've had to date and whilst King can easily be considered one of the most, if not THE most, prolific authors in history, he has no qualms about stating, often quite bluntly, that there are no set rules, no magic spark. You just need to read a lot and write a lot and seeing as I do both it's quite an confidence booster for aspiring writers even if, in the latter half, he goes into detail as to how difficult it can be to get published.

It's brief and to the point, and all autobiographical segments are relevant in that they shaped the author into the writer he is today. Never dull, always informative and is to the point. Since reading I have frantically been revisiting my short stories.

This is a must read to anyone who has ever thought about writing.

5/5

The Richard Laymon Collection: Volume 2 (Richard Laymon, 2006)

Richard Laymon is the literature equivalent of a sleazy 70's grindhouse exploitation film in which graphic sex and violence are at the fore-front and trivial things like plot and character development are left on the sidelines. I love it.

The two books presented here are The Woods Are Dark and Out Are The Lights and with titles as hackneyed as these you know what you're in for. Woods deals with a group of out-of-towners trying to survive the murderous clutches of "The Krulls", a race of mutants that eat people. Lights deals with cinema that shows short horror films that may or may not be snuff films.

Laymon's style is limited yet he revels in the sleaze like a boy who's just seen his first pair of tits. Gore is sprayed willingly (much of it actually quite disgusting) and sex is instigated in way akin to a porn flick ("My car broke down" said Brock, "can I come in?", "Why yes," said the big breasted blonde with dick-sucking lips, "the phone is in the bedroom". Moments later, they're fucking). It's cheap but fun and is a rather good way to lose a couple of days in the narrative. Fundimentally terrible but entertaining non the less. Think Point Horror for adults.

Stephen King digs him and that's a good enough recommendation for me.

3/5

Under The Dome (Stephen King, 2009)

My love affair with the works of Stephen King started about eight years ago and whilst my first foray into his world was via one of his lesser efforts (Christine), it was my subsequent reading of Carrie that had me won over. He is an easily accessible writer, probably one of the main reasons he's arguably the most popular author ever, but I will be the first to say that not everything he touches turns to gold. For every 'Salem's Lot there's a Dreamcatcher and for every Needful Things there's a Cell. Many of his novels over the past decade have been questionable and none have hit the dizzying heights of his early career.

Which is why Under The Dome is such a surprise. Not only is it a good novel but it's main trump card is its ability to feel like the King novels of old. Think the apocalyptic notions of The Stand with the small town ways and inevitable social crumbling of Needful Things. It's big, both in scale and page length (877 or 1072 pages depending if you get the British or American prints) and is populated with typical King characters: psychotic teenagers, religious fanatics, an antagonist who's an absolute cunt, etc. Whilst I don't think it'll ever be classed alongside the likes of his other epic works (The Stand, It, Needful Things), it's breezy and surprisingly quick.

But, as with a lot of his work, the build-up is better than the pay-off. The reasons for the dome and the speed in which the story is resolved is disappointing, especially after establishing such a vivid world with the town and the people of Chester's Mill (another fictional setting in the same vein as Derry and Castle Rock). Also, the time frame of the story is 6 - 7 days and I find it very difficult to believe society would crumble so completely in such a short time. But then, that's half the point. The speed of the deterioration of Chester's Mill surprises many of the main characters too. Dale Barbara is also a weak protagonist and pales in comparison to Big Jim Rennie, the absolute son-of-a-bitch that uses the arrival of the dome to bend the town to his will.

But these are trivial complaints. I should be hailing this as an (almost) return to form for an author, my favourite, whom I'd written off shortly after the release of From a Buick 8. It's big, brash and extremely cheesy in places but it is also fun and, for a book as long as it is, it never once bores. Not a masterpeice but well worth your time.

4/5

The Black Dahlia (James Ellroy, 1987)

Being a man attached to the hip of Stephen King and Clive Barker, I thought it was about time to try something different and, although I'm not a fan of most crime literature (eg: Simon Kernick is lazy in his writing and Karen Rose manages to weave gut wrenchingly cheesy romantic subplots into her works), James Ellroy has always intrigued me. A man who grew up reading Chandler almost exclusively, his most famous works are very much routed in the 40's/50's (and the 60's in the later USA Underworld trilogy) and this, for me, is proper crime, detectives with cigarettes lodged permanently in their lips wearing trench coats and hats, dealing with political corruption and using violence to get the information they want. It also helps that L.A. Confidential is one of my favourite films.

As an introduction to Ellroy's prose, The Black Dahlia is excellent. As you'd expect from the writer of L.A. Confidential, the story is dense but never confusing, sprawling from the murder of the Dahlia herself to the eventual, albiet fictional, reveal of her murderer's identity (in reality, the case was never solved) by way of police corruption, false leads and character subplots that help, not hinder, the main narrative. At just under 400 pages it's brief but it's packed with an almost overwhelming amount of information. Ellroy does not dwell on the needless, there is little in the way of filler here. Everything is necessary whether it be about the case itself or building upon the already complex characters.

There are no heroes as such. The majority of those we meet are crooked to the bone and those that are honest are left in ruin, including "Bucky" Bleichert, our protagonist. It ends with a whimper, not a bang, our "hero" at peace despite his life being in turmoil and his career as a cop dead. If the rest of the L.A. Quartet is anything like this (I already have The Big Nowhere and L.A. Confidential whilst White Jazz is on order) I can't wait to delve into Ellroy's world again.

How they fucked up the movie adaptation I don't know.

5/5

The Lost Symbol (Dan Brown, 2009)

You can't blame Dan Brown for trying. Arguably one of the most successful writers of the last ten years on the back of one book, he obviously holds some appeal to many millions across the globe. That and it's controversy baiting subject matter. But what people have come to realise is that, for all its popularity, The Da Vinci Code is crap. Filled to the brim with well worn clichés that were boring back in the 60's and full of leaps of logic that go beyond comprehension, it is a poorly written mess, bogged down with many scenes of people talking about stuff that isn't particularly interesting.

The Lost Symbol suffers from all of Da Vinci's problems and then some but, unlike Da Vinci, it never seems to really go anywhere. The reveal of what the elusive Lost Symbol is, is underwhelming to say the least and, with it's scientific aspect focusing on the physical mass of ones conciseness (excuse me?), Dan Brown has finally delved so far into the ludicrous that any shred of credibility he once had (and there was little to begin with) has been shattered.

I bored with it now. The Dan Brown phenomenon has been and gone and, whilst I enjoyed his pre-Da Vinci Code efforts (I still really like Deception Point, easily his best work) I would be quite happy if he faded into obscurity.

At least stop with the Robert Langdon stuff. He's arguably one of the most boring recurring protagonists in popular fiction.

2/5

Luke on Popular Fiction

Much like my film blog, I aim to review all literature I get my hands on, be it popular, classic or non-fiction. I will be the first to admit that my knowledge of classic fiction is limited but seeing as I can't stop reading at the moment I'm sure that the likes of Dickens, Duma, etc, will be visited in future.

I do love Shakespeare though…

Luke Allen