Archive for the ‘Noir’ Category
I’ve become an avid fan of Gene Kerrigan’s Irish mysteries. They are literate page-turners that are complex in plot with wonderful characterizations. This is the second one that I’ve read and I plan on reading each of them.
In this novel, Danny Callaghan has gotten out of jail seven months ago after serving an eight year term for manslaughter. He beat a man to death with a golf club when he was 24. He is now 32 and trying to live by the letter of the law, working for his bar-owning friend Novak, doing pick-ups and deliveries of people and materials. While he was in jail, his marriage to Hannah ended in divorce and he is alone with little support except for Novak, who is his confidante. While he was in jail, Novak was basically the only person who visited him there.
THE MAID’S VERSION by Daniel Woodrell is a small book but reads like a tome, with such literate and beautiful imagery that I was enthralled. The book centers around the mystery of the explosion at Arbor Dance Hall in 1929. The explosion killed 42 people, many unrecognizable in death with their bodies broken up or burned beyond recognition. Alma Dunahew lost her sister Ruby in the explosion and for years has been trying to discover the answer to what happened. Those years have been hard on her with several of them spent at the Work Farm in West Table, Missouri, due to her psychic breakdown caused by rage and grief …
December 21, 2013
Â· Judi Clark Â· No Comments
Tags: 1920s, 1960s, 2013 authors, Daniel Woodrell, Little, Little Brown & Co, Ozarks, Real Event Fiction, Revenge, Small Town, Time Period Fiction Â· Posted in: Facing History, Noir, US South
“I was locked up for a while. Full of the empty darkness, if that makes sense to you. The sort of nothing that fills up everything. Spent the whole time running down the â€śwhat ifâ€ť crap to fill up my soul. What if I hadnâ€™t dropped then? What if theyâ€™d buckled up? What if this and that? You can go crazy with that. And maybe I did. And maybe when I got out and was all of a sudden an adult and alone, yeah, maybe I did some things I shouldnâ€™t have. And maybe those were my fault. But thatâ€™s the old me. Thatâ€™s not who I am now.”
Haruki Murakami doesnâ€™t lend himself to easy categorization. Though his prose is spare, almost styleless, itâ€™s more supple than muscular, and though his stories are often occupied with mundane domesticities, theyâ€™re also often founded in the surreal. Itâ€™s no surprise, then, that Murakamiâ€™s long-awaited latest, 1Q84, isnâ€™t easy to shelf â€“itâ€™s at home among either fantasy, thriller or hard-boiled noir â€“ but one thingâ€™s for sure: this book is grotesquely Murakami. That is, quiet domesticity punctuates adventures tenuously connected to reality, and yet for all its faults â€“ and some have argued there are many â€“ this is a book that haunts you long after youâ€™re done, a book that, like a jealous lover, wonâ€™t let you move on.
THE CONSUMMATA finds Morgan the Raider on the run in Miamiâ€™s Little Havana and being chased by â€śfederal suitsâ€ť teamed with â€ślocal fuzzâ€ť who think he has 40 million dollars in stolen funds. With no place to hide, the chase seems to be coming to its inevitable conclusion, but suddenly Morgan finds himself snatched and hidden from the feds by some of Little Havanaâ€™s Cuban community.
CHOKE HOLD is novelist and former peep show girl Faustâ€™s second title for Hard Case Crime, and itâ€™s a sequel to MONEY SHOT. Faust is Hard Case Crimeâ€™s first female novelist, and if you think that means a tender, sensitive look at crime, then think again. Faustâ€™s protagonist is tough former porn star, Angel Dare, a woman who feels more comfortable giving a blowjob than extending a sympathy hug. In Money Shot, Angel, owner of an adult modeling agency came out of retirement for one last gig. Big mistake. The job is a set-up by some particularly nasty gangsters who are hunting for a briefcase full of cash. Angel, whoâ€™s raped, beaten and stuffed in the trunk of a car, finds herself on the wrong side of a prostitution ring.