Unfortunately Well Titled

With 20 books to his name it’s no surprise that Robert Goddard’s fans each have their favorites and their least favorites. I’ve read them all, pre-ordered half of them from Amazon UK to get my hands on them as soon as they’re published and I’ve always been able to say that while some are better than others none have truly disappointed. Until this one.

Goddard’s territory is the unquiet past. Real historic events and people are often part of the mix, often as a MacGuffin, but prior knowledge of the events is not required for enjoyment. It is no insult to say he has a formula. Beyond the double-crosses and intricate plot twists, Goddard always chooses to keep the stakes high for his lead characters. They’re usually men who’ve either nothing left to lose or who find themselves stripped of all they value in the course of the story.

This time out Goddard sticks with historic events but makes a very odd choice in his lead character. Instead of the usual down on his luck male lead we have Richard Eusden, a man who stands to lose a few days of PTO if things don’t work out. He’s helping out an old friend, Marty, who has all the characteristics of the usual Goddard lead. This isn’t a bold choice, however, it’s mystifying because it never provides anything new just less of what brings readers to Goddard in the first place. The pacing doesn’t make up for the lack of high stakes. The characters can’t take airplanes so the action is frequently broken up for long train rides (locals!) and car trips. The MacGuffin is particularly strained for my taste and the end is, well, found wanting. Goddard throws in a character in the last 50 pages that we’ve heard nothing about before who is the key to it all including the title. This is truly disappointing coming from a master of intricate plotting.

At one point I started to wonder if Goddard wasn’t writing a deliberate parody of his own books. The overwhelming impression left is that Goddard didn’t connect with his chosen material this time out and tried to muddle through anyway. Despite the two stars I’ve given this book I’ll still pre-order Goddard’s next book because when he’s on his game there is no one better at delivering the unexpected jolt. If you are new to Robert Goddard, please don’t start with this book. Try Into the Blue or Painting the Darkness instead.

Down and Out In Dorchester

Eight years ago I moved to Boston. I was thrilled to be able to afford more for my rental dollar than in the NY burbs. Even more thrilled when I found a three (3!) bedroom, two bath, apartment available for a little less than what I was paying for a 1 bedroom. It was in Dorchester. I went to college near Boston but Dorchester didn't ring any bells. I looked it up on the Internet and saw that JFK's presidential library was there.

I hadn't read any Dennis Lehane then.

Fortunately my brother set me straight and thus my firsthand knowledge of Dorchester is limited.

The more I read Dennis Lehane, the happier I am about that.

Gone, Baby, Gone is Lehane's fourth Kenzie-Gennaro novel and the second I've read. Like Prayer's For Rain, it is unforgettable on multiple fronts. First, and often overlook, is the witty, believable dialogue. No matter who is talking, Lehane doesn't assume that working class equals idiot. Second are Kenzie and Gennaro themselves, smart, likable, and real. Third is the entire cast of secondary characters, some like Bubba recurring, others like Remy and Poole just along for the story. Fourth is the plot.

Somehow Lehane writes about things I would normally refuse to read about - the kidnapping of a child, heinous murders, etc - in a way that focuses on the emotional reality of the situation rather than going for cheap, gory shocks. Gone, Baby, Gone is the story of a little girl who is kidnapped from her drug-addled, drunken, selfish, sluttish, TV-obsessed mother. Looking at that last sentence I can't help feeling I've gone too easy on Helene McCready. Easily one of the least likable characters ever, Helene isn't a monster, she's a walking mess, but she's real. It's what makes her so horrifying. Unlike Hannibal Lector, Helene could be walking the streets as I type this. She could be living a few blocks away.

Lehane puts life's trash on display: people who prey on others, people who have lost whatever paltry self-respect they fleetingly had, people who don't loose themselves in alcohol so much as preserve themselves in it. He also puts tough questions in front of the reader. Kenzie willfully refuses to judge most of the time, when he does, he judges so harshly it frightens him back into refusing to judge. Gennaro is willing to judge because she can see the eventual outcome of the disasters in front of her. Is jail too good for child molesters? When are "parental rights" simply society's way of absolving itself of responsibility to a child? Is there any cure for the borderline poverty and outright despair of the underclass? Do we blame them for their retreat into drugs and alcohol rather than question our own responsibility?

What sets Lehane apart from some of the more ponderously "literary" mystery writers is that he raises these questions seamlessly in the course of a plot that cruises along well above the speed limit. He delivers a mystery, an intricate plot, compelling multi-dimensional characters and one-liners on popular culture without a single drop in the action. He even manages to advance the relationship between Kenzie and Gennaro without falling into the usual traps that await most series-based detective stories. You never get the feeling that the plot is there to either give Kenzie and Gennaro something to talk about or, worse, give them something to baldly and wordily soul-search.

I have three more Kenzie-Gennaro's to go. I'm trying to space them out given that Lehane appears to have moved on. I enjoyed Mystic River but unlike Prayers For Rain and this book, I can't imagine rereading it. It was too painful, too real, too sad to read again knowing the end. Prayers and Gone leave the reader with thread of hope for humanity. Mystic River leaves you with no more hope than its characters. Not that I'd rather not have read anymore than I'd skip any other book he writes. Lehane is too good to miss. And too good to forget.

Mr King meets Mr Goddard

When I opened up the new Entertainment Weekly and saw that a) Stephen King had a new column and b) he had discovered Robert Goddard, it was cause for celebration. After roughly 10 years of being convinced I'm the only person Stateside who knows and appreciates the perfectly plotted thrillers Robert Goddard turns out on an annual basis someone is giving the man his due. Even better that the someone in question is Stephen King.

A few words about Stephen King. He is awesome. I say this as someone who has only read two of his books (although I have seen most of the movie versions) and is not a horror genre aficionado. I loved The Stand (an amazing audiobook experience) and if I weren't a complete wimp I'd have read more of King's work by now. But his undisputed claim to awesomeness lies elsewhere: Stephen King is a very successful writer who loves books. He speaks up for readers. He isn't a literary snob. I get the feeling he'd rather that readers enjoy his books than have universal critical acclaim. I also get the feeling he'd be writing away even if he'd never made the best seller lists. Best of all, he's generous with his airtime, he writes a column in EW once a month that praises pop culture in general (and calls it on its shit when warranted) and books in particular. He respects audiobooks and, now, e-books. For all of that, he is awesomeness personified.

And now, he's telling the EW world they need to check out Robert Goddard. The Pope needs to rethink his policy on living canonization.

On to Robert Goddard. Robert Goddard is not the rocket scientist. He may be rocket scientist smart and probably is but he is not the Robert Hutchings Goddard who used to pop up first when I typed the name into Amazon's US site. Robert Goddard is the author of 19 intricately plotted often historically based thrillers, nearly all of them perfect. He is the reason started ordering from Amazon.co.uk a few years ago. I found my first Goddard novel in South Africa on a business trip. My hotel outside Jo'burg was attached to a mall -no joke - and the stationery store there had a smallish book department. On three trips to the mall after work one paperback cover kept catching my eye. It was an out of focus photo of a woman in a red coat walking down what looked like the hallway of an old church. On fourth trip I bought the book, Caught in the Light.

It's one of those rare experiences where I vividly remember the act of reading the book itself. I read it in one gulp on the trip home. All that I came to recognize as Goddard hallmarks were there. The protagonist is usually a man and usually something of a screw up, at the very least he has something in his past to regret. The past is also a main character, whether actual events like the JFK assassination or the back story of the protagonist. In Goddard's world, the past is never buried. Nor is the answer ever what it seems. Every event has multiple explanations, each more Byzantine than the last. And every detail, no matter how minor, matters. It was that rare experience of not knowing exactly where the story was going and being so engrossed I didn't need to second guess the plot. Every few chapters in Caught in the Light there was an unexpected twist that made sense. The ending was shattering; I literally had to put the book away in the overhead bin to shake off the feeling.

Robert Goddard's latest is usually on prominent display in any Waterstones in the UK. Finding his books even in New York is tougher. I resort to Amazon.co.uk for my annual fix if I can't finagle a business trip to London or Toronto in the fall, when his newest book is usually released. In Pale Battalions is as good a place as any to start, but my favorites are Into the Blue (featuring Goddard's one recurring character, Harry Thaw) for current day setting and Painting the Darkness for a historical setting. I've read both multiple times and they never fail to enthrall.

So, thanks, Stephen King. Thanks for being a passionate reader, thanks for being a compelling author and thanks for giving Robert Goddard some much deserved attention.