The Granite Moth - Erica Wright (2015)

Full disclosure: Erica Wright is my friend.  I decided to read this book because, of course I want to read books my friends have written--particularly those that get national attention.  I had always known Erica to be a poet, not a crime fiction writer.  I was unaware of The Red Chameleon when it came out, and perhaps I only became aware of The Granite Moth due to a visit from our mutual friend Kristen Linton, and what seemed to be greater publicity on Facebook.  I checked it out from the Chicago Public Library, so it seems to have been made readily available.  I am not sure what criteria goes into stocking the nation's public libraries, but Erica has made it, at least here.

Normally I don't read these types of books, but Triple Homicide and Identical come to mind.  So they seem like ideal comparison points.  Of these three, The Granite Moth has the most intriguing subject matter and is my overall favorite.  However, it does suffer from various convolutions and editorial weaknesses, though it is generally well-written.

Kathleen Stone is a private investigator, formerly employed by the NYPD.  As the novel opens, she is at the Halloween parade along 6th Ave., observing the festivities and waiting to meet her contact, Ellis Decker, who is still on the force and may have some information about an illegal operation run out of an exclusive members-only restaurant, the Skyview Lounge, by Salvatore Magrelli, or someone else in his family.  Magrelli is a crime boss that no one can seem to find any evidence against, and it seems to me like he is the antagonist from The Red Chameleon, but I can't be sure.  Basically, it feels like this book would have been enhanced by more knowledge of the previous one.

Kathleen (Kat) also has a friend named Dolly, who is a female impersonator at The Pink Parrot, a club in the West Village.  The club has a float in the parade, and at a certain moment, a juggler with flaming batons gets shoved, and the float erupts into a fire.  There are a couple deaths and Dolly is badly burnt and believes that it was not an accident.

Soon after, Kat dons a disguise and goes to the Skyview Lounge, where she gets into the poker game.  This was actually one of my favorite scenes in the novel.  One of the themes is how broke Kat is, and it's pretty ridiculous to see her throw away pretty much all of her life savings on a buy-in.  However, before she can leave, the dealer, Ernesto, is poisoned and dies on the scene.

Thus there are two competing mysteries--was the fire on the Pink Parrot float intentional, and who poisoned Ernesto?  Ultimately the resolution is not as surprising as it might be, but along the way there are many coincidences.  Actually, I don't think I understand the resolution.  When Ernesto's murderer is revealed at the end, I have a somewhat difficult time accepting it.

There are many characters in this novel, and like the other two "true crime" books previously reviewed, it becomes difficult to follow.  Perhaps the most compelling lead that Kat uncovers is the Zeus Society, which is a kind of gay conversion hate group.  They protest outside the funeral of the two young men killed on the parade float.

I don't want to try to name all of the characters and how they are involved in love "squares" (rather than triangles), but suffice to say, it is not easy to keep track of who they are and what they have done.  Nor would I want to get into Meeza (Kat's assistant) and her boyfriend V.P. and how he becomes another suspect towards the end (again I still don't understand what he actually did, apart from appearing menacing).

This story is really about Kathleen Stone, and how her disguises allow her to become different "characters."  It is almost as if Erica is writing her to have multiple personalities, and it is a nice motif how all of her alter-egos start with the letter K (Kennedy, Katya, Kate).  Here, she is discussing which disguise to use at the "other" club in the West Village, Tongue:

"'I was thinking I might go as Keith,' I said after a pause, and Dolly laughed.  The sound was spontaneous rather than mean, and I found myself laughing, too, even though I hadn't been joking.  Maybe I hadn't thought this one completely through, but I sometimes passed myself off as a teenager named Keith by slipping into some skater clothes and slicking down my boy-short hair.  It was one of my favorite disguises, a sure-fire way to be left alone.
'Not if you want to get into the place.  It's gayboy bunny or nothing.'" (109)

Which leads to my question: what is gayboy bunny? (Sorry, but that is my favorite phrase used in the novel.)

I am not normally in the habit of pointing out typos, but I found at least five (on pp. 147, 155, 203, along with a couple others earlier in the book).  Perhaps this focus on the trivial and mundane (but incorrect) comes from my brief stint as a proofreader.  Most of the chapters are relatively short--there are 29--and the book itself is pretty short at 233 pages.  It's a good read overall, but my primary complaint is the editing.  I think the novel would have been strengthened if there were fewer characters and if their stories could have been developed a bit more deeply.  As it stands the book is a bit of a mess, but it's held together by Kat, and her fast-paced narration.  In a way, the novel works because Kat is so confused by what she sees and hears and how it all fits together, such that the reader does not necessarily feel as lost as they might normally be.

In sum, I was surprised to read this book.  I did not expect it out of Erica, and while this type of genre is not what I normally gravitate towards, it was a nice diversion, and I enjoyed some of the scenes and situations presented.  It would appear that Erica has created a character, and an anthology series, that could become quite popular.  Her story does not seem to be over at the end of this book, and perhaps she will go on towards a more straightforward adventure next.  However, true crime mystery thrillers rarely are.

Identical - Scott Turow (2013)

One day I was coming back from a run, or a return trip to the library, or something, and I passed the "take a book, leave a book" box at Kedzie Ave. and Logan Blvd.  I looked inside and saw this book and thought, "that would be a good thing to review now."  I took it home with me and later brought a book from my shelf, Riders on the Storm, about the Doors, and left it at the box for good karma.  Now perhaps, I will need to go out of my way to find Riders on the Storm to read it, to assess whether or not this was truly a worthwhile trade.

Oeuvre rule: One L is the only other book I've read by Scott Turow, and it's immediately easy for me to say that One L is a much stronger book.  However, I wish I never read it.  I might have gone anyways, but it lent credence to the idea that I was doing the right thing, as a person who was inclined to view creative writing as his life's calling, going on to take a day job as a lawyer.  

In the event that this improbable eventuality occurs, I do not want to write the same types of books at Scott Turow.  Maybe this was just one of the weaker ones, I don't know, but this is basically a mass-market paperback to the T.  It's a bit similar to Triple Homicide, but my teacher was the author, so I was generally charitable.  But I would expect better from Turow.

So maybe I'll give him another shot, but I can't really recommend Identical.  There are some people that might like it, because it does feature a number of twists, but I really only kept turning the pages because I don't like to leave books uncompleted for the purpose of this blog.  I put this book down once to read Zero K and I had about fifty pages left so I decided to finish it before taking up Morrissey's autobiography.

I never really got into this book, but pages 200-300 probably went the quickest for me.  I didn't know who was going to be the protagonist for a long time, but I guess it ends up being Tim Brodie, who is about 81 years old and is a widowed, retired police officer turned private investigator.  Also, Evon, a lesbian former FBI agent turned head of security for a private corporation.  I read one Amazon review that compared this book to a soap opera, and I burst out laughing because that is kind of a perfect description of how ridiculous this plot is--less plausible than a soap opera.

But it is fairly interesting in its courtroom scenes, and it reminded me of reasons why I should just cut my losses and quit practicing law right now, like mean judges.

"'You know what I think?  I think he's a great judge, better than I ever believed he'd be, and I always thought he'd be pretty good.'  The problem in assessing who'd make a good judge was that the job called on a set of skills less important for practicing lawyers.  Smarts served you well in both lives.  But patience, civility, a sense of boundaries and balance were more dispensable for courtroom advocates." (209)

This passage really stung me when I read it because I had just gotten yelled at by a judge for reasons that I thought were totally unfair--there had been no patience or civility in the encounter.  Really, this whole section of the book with the courtroom scenes probably move the most swiftly.  I saw a review that said this was not one of Turow's more "courtroom-based" thrillers, and maybe that is why it felt a bit weak.

After the last pages, Turow adds "A Note About Sources," and it perhaps explains why so much of the book feels awkward and over the top and soap opera-like:

"A far more self-conscious inspiration for the novel came from what I had always taken as one of the most touching of the Greek myths, the story of the Gemini, Castor and Pollux.  The identical twins were said to have been born after their mother, Leda, Queen of Sparta, was raped by Zeus, who had taken the form of a swan to catch her unaware.  The myth has many variations, but one of the most common is that the sole difference between the twins was that Pollux was immortal, like his father, while Castor, like his mother, was not.  When Castor was fatally wounded, Pollux could not bear the loss and asked Zeus to let him share his immortality with his twin.  The brothers therefore alternated time in Hades and on Mount Olympus.  For those familiar with the myth, the parallels between it and my story should be plain, as is the fact that I did not allow the old tale to be any more than a fabric on which I did my own embroidery." (370)

What is the plot?  Paul and Cass (twins) are at a party in 1982 at the Kronons home.  Cass is going out with Dita, Zeus Kronon's daughter.  Paul kind of hates her.  That night she is killed.  Cass pleads guilty, goes to jail for 25 years, and gets released in 2008, when Paul is running for Mayor of Center City in Kindle County.  Hal Kronon, Dita's estranged brother, levels an accusation at Paul that he had something to do with Dita's murder, and Paul's advisers tell him to file a lawsuit for libel.

It just feels like a mass-market paperback rather than a piece of literary fiction.  It's not my preferred type of book, but I have faith that Turow has other stronger work in his oeuvre.

I don't really know if there's much more for me to say about it.  Overall, I didn't like it.  Certain parts were okay, and I didn't despise it, and I finished it.  And yes, by the end, I wanted to find out what really happened.  I cared about what really happened, but it was sort of predictable once a certain detail is revealed about Dita.  I must admit that Turow does a great job of keeping this "truth" elusive throughout the novel.  And it does make a bit more sense when one realizes he was using a Greek myth as a framework.

There were some nice details about Evon's crumbing relationship with Heather (though she feels incredibly underdeveloped in terms of details of her former partner that died--in great contrast to Tim, who feels overdeveloped) and these probably comprise the most compelling sections of the novel, along with the courtroom scenes:

"When Heather left to shower, Evon, who'd had far more to drink than usual, felt a stark mood shadow her heart.  Heather's talk of marriage, her regal demands, left Evon feeling how remote the chances were.  Her doubts had little to do with her skepticism about whether same-sex marriage would ever be legal in this state, or even whether she had shed enough of a closeted person's anxieties to be able to refer out loud to anyone as her 'wife.'  Something else concerned her, even if all the champagne made it impossible for her to be more precise.  It was a shock to find herself dubious, because the story of the relationship had been that she pursued Heather, put up with her, forgave her.  And it was true that she still craved Heather, loved her zany side and terrific sarcasm, and had touched something strong and good in herself by doting on her.  In the past several months she'd realized she was basically Heather's mother, which was not as bad a deal for Evon as putting it that way made it sound, because she enjoyed--no, relished--being a kinder, more patient and understanding person toward Heather than Evon's mother had been to her.  She wasn't prepared yet to give any of that up." (58-59)

Heather is about 12 years younger than Evon, and anyone that has been in relationship with such an age gap will understand that feeling expressed in the latter half of the paragraph (as I'm sure most people in same-sex relationships will understand the former half of the paragraph).  In moments like this, Turow can be great.  This is why I will definitely give him another shot.  Identical was just kind of a miss for me.  I don't regret reading it, but I wouldn't willingly subject myself to it a second time.

Triple Homicide - Charles J. Hynes

Triple Homicide is Charles Hynes' first novel and has received scant attention (but see New York Times Review,  available at http://www.triplehomicidebycharlesjhynes.com/reviews/brooklyn_murders.htm) since it was published in 2007.  Those that have written about the novel usually end up writing about Hynes himself, and his "day job."  It states in his author profile that Hynes' has been the District Attorney of Brooklyn for 17 years, so he was elected in 1990.  He still is the D.A. twenty-two years later.

There are six reviews on Amazon, which are, as usual, of varying degrees of intelligence.  However, most of the reviews do mention that the book gives an "insider's look" at the NYPD from 1970 - 1990, and in this respect it is faultless.  Clearly, this is a story that needs to be told, as all of the police departments in major American cities undoubtedly have a fascinating history.  However, it would not be fascinating if they were all just great cops, and it is in the details of the despicable "cyclical" corruption and the "Blue Wall" of silence that protects cops from discovery that makes Triple Homicide an essential read for anyone that (1) wants to be a cop, (2) is already a cop, (3) wants to work for Corporation Counsel and must defend police officers in lawsuits brought against them, (4) wants to be a prosecutor (particularly an ADA in Kings County), (5) wants to be a criminal defense attorney, (6) enjoys reading about "true crime."

However, this is not the type of book that Flying Houses usually reviews (but see TRAIL OF THE DEAD. JON EVANS, available at http://flyinghouses.blogspot.com/2009/03/trail-of-dead-jon-evf booans.html).  It is a "pulp" mass-market paperback "page-turner."  But while that may be a bad thing, as I would consider the majority of books in that genre a waste of my time, it is not always a bad thing.  There are high-quality mass-market paperbacks out there, and this is one of them.

While it is somewhat difficult to describe the plot without spoiling anything, certain events and characters may be mentioned.  This is principally the story of 2 cops in the NYPD: Robert Mulvey and Steven Holt.  Robert Mulvey is Steven Holt's uncle, and a role model.  Both of these cops become entrenched in a system of corruption, and though they try to be good cops, they are forced to make certain compromises.  Mulvey works in the late 1960s and has his own controversy which is never spelled out until the end of the novel, which is the right decision.  Holt works in the late 1980s and early 1990s until he is indicted for the murder of three individuals in 1992.

My single greatest complaint about this novel is that it can be extremely confusing.  There are a number of characters that fly in and out of the picture: Captain Nevins, Connolly, Kenny Rattigan (the Queens D.A.), Larry Green, Buddy Cooper (the Brooklyn D.A.), Brendan Moore, Wallace Goss, Scott Ruben, Gabe Perone, Kurland, Pressler, and Meyer Hartwell.

Hartwell only appears in a scene or two, but Hynes' description of him is worth quoting in full, because it is one of the few times that I couldn't help myself from laughing out loud:

"Meyer Hartwell was as unlikely looking a cop as you could imagine.  Short, overweight, and mostly bald, Meyer had grown his black hair as long as he could from the left side of his head and then folded it over to cover the rest of his bald pate.  The effect was an unintended burlesque look.  Meyer had a perpetual crown of perspiration hanging on his forehead.  His distinctive and in certainly no way attractive face brought attention to itself with a large, bushy black mustache flecked with gray and some strange-looking pieces of debris that remained from a recent meal.  His tiny dark and deep-set eyes were obscured by a long, thin nose discolored by popping blue and red veins.  Protruding aimlessly from his nostrils were several strands of nose hair.  Police Officer Hartwell appeared to have selected his uniform each day from the bottom of his closet.  Frayed and always wrinkled, his uniform shirt with the lower two buttons missing hung over a belt forced out by his bulging stomach.  His black shoes were almost gray with scuff marks.  None of this mattered, though, because he had graduated third in his class from the Police Academy, and because of his grades his first commanding officer at a police precinct in the Bronx tapped him to be the 124 man."  (59)

I won't explain what the 124 man does--I'll let you find out if you choose to read this novel, which I would recommend despite the great quantity of characters and the difficulty of keeping everybody's name straight.  That said, there are many characters that are memorable--usually the bad guys.  But the two principal characters won't be confused, and they're the heart of the story.  The "sub-plot" is the internal structure of New York City crime-fighting, and attempts to end police corruption, and this is very interesting stuff, but this is where the names get confusing, and it's tough to tell exactly who is opposing whom unless you go back and verify what each characters does.

So, if I had to review it on Amazon I would give it 4 out of 5 stars because of this issue.  Otherwise, this is a real "page-turner" that just gets better as it goes along.  The last 100 pages flew by for me.

It is perhaps worth noting that I would not have read this book if Charles Hynes had not been my professor for Trial Advocacy.  I like to say that this style as a professor is "Taylorist," that is, he teaches Trial Advocacy as if there is "one best way" to carry out a given task--in this case, 4 tasks: opening statements, direct examination of a witness, cross-examination of a witness, and summations.  In this sense, it is worthwhile to read this book if you are taking this course as well, because the trial scenes are probably the highlights of this book.  Hynes also offers an interesting roadmap for a career for those interested in being a judge, and coming from a person like him, one is bound to respect it as authoritative:

"Kerner was just warming up.  "Then there's the ADAs.  Used to be that a guy would get out of law school, join a political club, usually the Democrats, get a job as an assistant district attorney, and have a law practice on the side.  He'd hustle to make a buck, didn't get nothin' without workin' for it.  The guy knew how much the public wanted law and order, so he'd never break our balls.  He never questioned a cop.  He didn't care that we'd fuck around a little bit--nothin' serious, just enough to get the bad guys off the street.  Then after a few years the ADA would graduate to a job as a judge's law secretary, sort of half an ass-kisser and half a gofer.  And finally, after a while, with a few bucks placed here and there, you know..."
Holt didn't know, but he pretended he did.
"He'd become a judge, and that concluded a fine career.  I used to think that one of my jobs in life was helpin' a young ADA become a judge."  (213-214)

The chapter from which this passage is excerpted is titled "33, East New York, Brooklyn, the 75th Precinct, June 1985," and is the "first lesson" that Steven Holt gets as a new officer straight from the police academy.  This is one of the best chapters in the novel, as Hynes goes on to explore a few interesting cases through the voice of Kerner.  It is an interesting way to look at the law--to have a character that has obvious biases, who seems to be fairly intelligent, and who interprets judicial decisions through their own lens--and I have not seen it done before, so in this respect it opens up a lot of possibilities for writers that have a good knowledge of the law, and can mange to make it fairly interesting for the lay reader.

Hynes does this well, and as I said, my chief criticism of the book is its bevy of characters with indistinguishable features.  It's possible Hynes had written a much longer book that more fully developed the characters and was forced to edit it down, but perhaps I am being picky.  After all, I read this book at intermittent moments from February 2012 - June 2012, and if read in the course of say, one week, which I think is par for the course for a 288-page novel, then the reader is less likely to forget who was who, and generally read the book much more smoothly.  However, I do not think I am the only that would make this complaint about the book, but to a certain degree, this effect is impossible to avoid in a story with so many players.

The quality that this novel brings is "realism."  Once a reader has finished, they will have effectively taken a crash course in the history of the NYPD, and the way it functions in conjunction with other city agencies and city government in general.  Along the way there are a dozen or so intriguing scenes of "true crime," and as mentioned earlier, the trial litigation scenes.  The "lawyering" that is done in this book may not be universally endorsed by Hynes, but you can usually tell from the voice of the narrator when he approves or disapproves of the tactics used in the decisive trial.

Several reviewers on Amazon express their hope that Hynes will offer up a sequel, and he was, at least 6 years ago, working on one.  There is an interesting interview that took place at a Barnes & Noble on Staten Island in June of 2006, and is worth watching for anyone that thinks they might be interested in reading it.  Among the highlights are Hynes' disdain for literary agents, which I could certainly identify with, and his mention of real-life inspirations for the book.  A link to that interview can be be found here: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLC8BB94E32F8F108E

In short, I agree with those several reviewers, and would certainly read a follow-up to Triple Homicide, not because this is the usual genre of literature that I enjoy (more likely because I was lucky enough to take a class with Hynes), but because it would undoubtedly be a fascinating read from which many lessons can be learned when it comes to operating city government.

Also, Hynes gave me a B+, so I would give this book a B+.


P.S. - Flying Houses will now start annotating everything Blue Book style to show how ridiculous it is.