Frozen Dreams by Moe Lane

Last week I mentioned my policy of reading books by friends, online or “in real life,” in relation to Jim Geraghty.  Well, it was actually a conversation about Moe Lane which sparked my memory of not reviewing Jim’s book. Which brings us around to Moe’s book. Wait, what?

Let me start again. I try to read and review books written by people I know.  Writing a book is hard. Getting it published is too. So I try to do my small part by reading and offering thoughts in pixels when friends/acquaintances achieve this milestone. Well, Moe-another blogging friend from way back- has a book out. Frozen Dreams.

I should confess that I am not really a Geek in the sense of plugged into and fluent in the language of fantasy, comics, and elements of pop culture (TV, video & role playing games, etc.). I am sorta Geek adjacent, if you will.

I bring this up because, Frozen Dreams is a mash-up of classic detective fiction and urban fantasy with a dash of dystopia. Someone on Goodreads explained it this way:

Dragonlance ala Dashiell Hammett during a Canticle for Leibowitz.

Sounds about right. I enjoyed it because I know Moe and found it interesting to picture him creating the world and story; and voicing the main character, to be honest. Could have used a little more world building setup and character depth, but as I have frequently noted, most first time novels do; particularly in what is the first in a series.

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The Captain and the Glory by Dave Eggers

I get that it is hard to make satire of our current situation but isn’t that what talented writers are supposed to offer?

This is the question I have been asking myself this summer. OK, perhaps that is an exaggeration. But it is a useful literary device for a blog post…

If you are scoring at home, I am on a quest to read 100 books in a year.  As a result, I am always tempted by short books.  I stumbled on two politically orientated satires this summer which I thought would be both entertaining and present a theme for this on-again off-again blog.

No so much…

First was The Cockroach by Ian McEwan which I found rather sad all things considered.

Next up, The Captain and the Glory by Dave Eggers

My quick take: it was funny (and depressing) in spots, but just too heavy handed and preachy by the end. Better than its British equivalent, The Cockroach, but that is a low bar.

Perhaps reassuringly, many critics agree with me.

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Between Two Scorpions by Jim Geraghty

I have a basic policy of reading and reviewing books by friends or acquaintances; even if only the friendship is an online one.  Today, I realized that last year I read a book by a longtime friend and never reviewed it.  In my defense, last year I started a new job, bought a house, and moved to a new town. But still I felt bad when this came to mind today, so I decided to rectify my error.

I have known Jim Geraghty for quite a while and have even met him in person.  We go way back into the golden age of blogging.  Jim is an excellent journalist and has really established a reputation during the pandemic as a voice of reason and information.  If you are interested in politics/public affairs I recommend The Morning Jolt.

So when Jim published Between Two Scorpions I grabbed a copy and read it.

 

As long as we are confessing, I also failed to read Jim’s novel The Weed Agency so this is my first experience with his fiction, having read his journalism near daily for years.

I don’t think I will hurt Jim’s feeling by saying BTS has some elements common to new fiction authors and first books in a series.  Despite the explosive start, literally, it takes awhile for the book to get going and not all of the characters are all that flushed out. This is also just part of the genre, however, as I have noted when reading books from book-a-year type established authors.  There is always a tension between action and color and character development.

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Jonah Goldberg on the Tyranny of Feelings

We’re creating a worldview that other peoples’ feelings are sovereign. The intentions of the offender do not matter, only the feelings of the offended. Even when the offenses happened doesn’t matter. Five minutes ago or five years, it’s all the same. An official at Boeing was just forced out of his job for being “wrong” about something 33 years ago.

Instead of clear rules, rationally conceived and universally applied, the new rules are opaque, emotionally conceived and subjectively applied. If we lived under some fickle absolutist king, who arbitrarily decided what was offensive, outrageous, or even criminal, we’d all recognize the illiberalism of it. But when a mob arbitrarily rules the same way, we call it social justice. It’s really just the tyranny of feelings.

— Jonah Goldberg, Isn’t It Romantic?

Of Vengeance by J.D. Kurtness

As I have mentioned on occasion, I am trying to read 100 books this year.  To that end, when I see a short book that grabs my attention I will usually take a chance on it.  1) it is short which helps me towards my goal 2) if it isn’t a great book I haven’t sacrificed a lot of time.

Hence, my reading Of Vengeance by J.D. Kurtness

Kirkus:

A chilling justification of a life of violence, as nonchalant as it is grim.

My take? What a weird little book.

I think the supposed charm is the nonchalant tone and descriptions as a chance accident leads to the development of a psychopath. It is the story of a clearly morally deranged person but who approaches her “hobby” as if it was hiking or a competitive sport. Not sure I see the appeal.

Sure, everyone has had the urge to get revenge on the jerks and inconsiderate among us but reading about how a person might go about building a life around living out such a choice is unsettling and dark. Maybe that was the point…

On the other hand, we have the Montreal Review of Books:

This isn’t, in the end, an attempt to solve or get away with a murder; instead, Of Vengeance hints at another layer of crime that forms the undercurrent of the novel. In deceptively simple prose, Kurtness mounts a poignant and timely argument about the danger of running headlong into the hands of technologies we don’t fully understand.

I agree with PW:

Kurtness writes smoothly, but the black humor won’t be to every taste. Readers into passive-aggressive fantasies will best appreciate this one.

The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri

We are continuing our little tour of books I read through some sort of odd or serendipitous circumstance.

I stumbled on The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri (Stephen Sartarelliin, translator) in a rather odd way. My wife’s book club was going to read a book with the title “The Shape of Water.” I was told it was not the book that corresponds to the movie so I thought it was the first book in the Commissario Montalbano series. And it was available on Kindle for $2 so I bought it for my wife.

Turns out it was the book by Anne Spollen. I decided to read this Inspector Montalbano mystery anyways.

Quick verdict: It was entertaining but not really my style. 1) I am not a big mystery/crime reader and 2) was rather put off by the vulgarity (if that is the right word) of much of the plot. It was well done and evokes the time and place well. But just not my style.

Kirkus is full of praise:

Subtle, sardonic, and molto simpatico: Montalbano is the Latin re-creation of Philip Marlowe, working in a place that manages to be both more and less civilized than Chandler’s Los Angeles.

Publishers Weekly, less so:

Camilleri’s strength lies in his gallery of eccentric characters: Signora Luparello, the victim’s admirably cool widow; Gegè, a pimp and old classmate of Montalbano’s; Giosue Contino, an 82-year-old schoolteacher who shoots at people because he thinks his 80-year-old wife is cheating on him; and Anna Ferrara, Montalbano’s attractive deputy, “who every now and then, for whatever reason, would try to seduce him.” Even the two garbage men have Ph.D.s. The maverick Montalbano doesn’t hesitate to destroy clues or extract money from a crook to help a child, but his wrapping up the case by telling rather than showing, while acceptable to European audiences, may disappoint action-oriented American fans.

I think this is the sort of book you have to be in the mood for. The humor just didn’t resonate with me and none of the characters really struck me.  Perhaps, I should read the second book in the series, The Terra-Cotta Dog, as series often get better as they go.  But on the other hand, perhaps this is just not my kind of novel