Crash & Burn by Lisa Gardner

I enjoy the Lisa Gardner novels, particularly the D.D. Warren series.  Crash & Burn includes (I hesitate to say "features") Tessa Leoni, from Love You More.  I recall reading Love You More, and I definitely recall the cover (the swingset with the red swing, the rainy, wintry look).  Unfortunately I don't recall a lot of the details specifically.  I do recall I read it quickly; it was a fast paced book, but was slightly confused by the plot, and didn't think the mystery quite worked as it should.  I also recall trying to remember how it ended, and when I read Touch & Go I recall flipping through the last couple of chapters to refresh myself with the ending, but I don't currently remember the ending after my second attempt either.


All of which is probably a good introduction for Crash & Burn, which has a victim suffering from a traumatic brain injury and is uncertain of her own memories.  The main detective is Wyatt Foster, who is dating Tessa Leoni.  As noted, my memory of Tessa's introductory novel has a lot of gaps, so I can't tell how much there is in the way of callbacks and plot development in the overarching series, but Crash & Burn provides sufficient background to be able to follow along generally.  D.D. Warren is at best a cameo appearance in this novel, but I really liked Wyatt Foster as a detective.


The novel moves at a quick pace, obscuring bits of information which the narrator, Nicky Frank, can't access due to her faulty memory.  The story really drives forward, leaving little time for thought or reflection.  At times I found the hidden memory technique a bit more frustrating than suspenseful, but I really enjoy the idea of solving long hidden mysteries, and I was prepared to accept it for the fast pace of the novel.  That being said, although Love You More was also frantically paced, I think in this novel the plot elements will hang together on reconsideration, and the pace is not simply to zoom over potential p(l)otholes.


One aspect that I think works very well is the pace of the investigation for Wyatt Foster.  He seems to be taking it slowly and methodically at first, but the pace of his investigation increases at the same time as he becomes increasingly sleep deprived.  It helps the novel keep moving at breakneck speed, and if the reader slows down to think of questions Wyatt should be asking and leads he should be pursuing, it's easy to see how he gets caught up with artificial deadlines and lines of inquiry and lets some of the threads slip through his fingers.  In that regard, I think he and Tessa could make a very effective partnership.  She could be cool and methodical, while he's the people person using dialogue and hunches as his investigative techniques.  That's one of those things that I think gets overlooked in a lot of police procedurals.  When you have the case that has the lead investigators going days without sleep, they aren't going to be able to operate at the same mental speed as they could in the early days, and their investigative leaps are not going to be stunning leaps of logic, but more often questionable and impulsive inferences.  Ms. Gardner had a very effective and subtle way of making that point, in a way which still resolves the mystery and retains the respect the reader has for Wyatt.


A final note, is that I thought D.D.'s information about the discovery of a clue would have been much more effective and would have said a lot more about her relationship with Tessa if she was in fact just inventing it out of whole cloth.  I was somewhat disappointed with the way that aspect was resolved, and thought it could have given readers more insight into D.D. and her future.  I suspect the resolution was done to leave the door open for D.D. to join Tessa's firm, but I don't see the two of them working well together, and think D.D. will always need to be a cop.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

I found myself very caught up in this book, but remain a little unsure what to think about it.  As you may know, Gone Girl is the story of a husband who returns home to find his wife missing, interspersed with excerpts from her diary leading up to the day of the disappearance.  I read it as part of my commitment to the Academy Award nominees for this year. 
Read While Walking: Books based on Academy Award Nominees


From a story perspective, it's fun walking through the mystery of the disappearance and trying to piece together a full and objective narrative.  Once an additional narrator appears, it becomes more of a "howdunit" than a "whodunit", and for myself some of the suspense and tension evaporates at that point.  I enjoy "howdunit" novels, but I need to be invested in the protagonist, interested in his or her character and character development, and probably wanting to see some justice done.  In this case, while there remains some action to be developed, overall I think it becomes more like a jigsaw puzzle because I wasn't invested in the characters.   At first it's fascinating to try to discover the picture and some of the details, but at a certain point it's just a matter of putting the pieces in their proper places to finish it off.


Part of the reason I see it that way is that it's hard to get attached to the various narrators.  There isn't much growth of the characters, and for myself I wouldn't say I found any of the narrators likeable or relatable.  While the protagonist may not deserve what that narrator gets, it's nevertheless difficult to feel sympathy based on the protagonist's own actions and perspectives.  (As you may be able to tell, I'm trying hard to preserve the fun of piecing the puzzle together without giving away the picture).


If I had to pin down my difficulty in being fully engaged in this novel and having it be a more lasting enjoyment, it would be the authorial voice.  There are three principal narrators in the novel, if you include the diary entries.  However, each of them speaks with substantially the same voice.  They use similar terminology; they are each fairly self absorbed; their thought processes seem like carefully considered, evaluated, literate navel-gazing.  Even the artifice of the diary entries do not differ significantly in writing style from what appears to be contemporaneous thought.  Yet curiously, despite the artificial tone, none of the narrators seem to be "unreliable narrators".  What they see and relate appears to be objectively truthful within the confines of the story.


I suspected, as I neared the end of the novel, that we would be given an appropriately "meta" answer for this, namely that this very book we were reading was the account of the events authored by the protagonist. But it appears not.


So what justification is there that everyone's thoughts are so artificial, removed and consistently focused only on the individual narrator?  As noted above, my initial reaction was that this was the author's voice, not distinguished between characters.  Not an unusual failing, but one that constitutes a bit of a pet peeve of mine, since it bounces me out of the story and the characters and forces me to recognize that I'm reading an author's thoughts and words put into the thoughts and words of the characters.


Instead, I think now that while this technique creates a separation between the reader and the characters, it could have been an intentional technique to highlight the premise of the novel.  Namely, that everyone is always "putting on" a character (the Cool Girl etc.) for the world to see, but all of it is artifice.  No one ever gets to see the real person underneath, not only because they don't reveal it, but because perhaps there is no "real person" underneath.  It's just a series of masks over nothingness.  And everyone knows, or should realize if they turned their minds to it, that these are only masks, but is not interested enough in knowing a real person to want to look deeper.  So ultimately, the best a person could hope for in a connection with someone else is to have the comfort to pursue their own selfish desires without concern for what the other person may think.


As such, an artificial writing style, intended to highlight the artificiality of each of the characters narrating, brings home the artifice to the reader and forces the reader to confront the mask being worn by the narrator themselves and perhaps recognize that as a commentary on people in general and realize the ultimate premise of the novel.  In that case, my issue is less with the writing style than the premise, and but I still hesitate to recommend Gone Girl.

She Who Is by Elizabeth A. Johnson

I wasn't sure about writing about She Who Is here.  It's quite different from most of the books I've described below, in that it's theology and philosophy, not fiction or genre fiction.  I also didn't finish it.  I read enough to know I wasn't prepared to carefully scrutinize the entire book, and so I need to acknowledge that someone who has read the whole thing is undoubtedly in a better position to comment than I am.  I'm not sure if I don't have a sufficiently open mind, or if I don't want to do the heavy lifting, but once I got the gist and the direction, I skimmed the balance of the book without devoting to it the level of attention that I should for detailed commentary.


Further to that thought, I don't have a background in theology or philosophy, so my comments are being made as a casual, interested reader, not as a student or theologian.  One note however, is that if I were reading as a student, having a pile of footnotes at the back of the book is not helpful.  Particularly footnotes in the nature of commentary, I'd expect to see at the bottom of the page, or at worst at the end of each chapter.  Searching for them in the back of the book is more challenging and frequently leads to a disconnect between the statement and the alleged support therefor.


I found She Who Is to be an argumentative piece of literature.  It's got very lofty goals, and perhaps the nature of philosophical writing is to present an argumentative thesis, then proceed to knock down straw men arguments against it.  For myself, I don't enjoy that style of writing.  I would prefer the stating of an argument and then a neutrally constructed examination of whether the argument is supported and where it is not.


Dr. Johnson seems to take a fairly negative and limited view of the Catholic Church.  I can understand her perspective, but the degree to which she views the Church through a one-dimensional lens is such that in genre fiction I'd suspect she was a "unreliable narrator", whose perceptions should be viewed skeptically through a more objective lens.  As an example, she suggests that statements from Vatican II indicating that spiritual growth could come from anywhere was an "unwitting prophecy" that spiritual growth could be achieved by women.  To my mind, the reading that the second Vatican council could not have, or did not contemplate that "anyone" could include women seems more of a value judgment than a statement supported by the text.


In any event, the premise seems to be that God is, by virtue of the nature of God, gender neutral, and not identifiable as male or female.  As a central premise, I definitely agree that's worth thinking about.  Dr. Johnson rightly notes that always referring to God as male or with male pronouns shapes our thought to always think of God (as a trinity) as male.  And when she says that's wrong, or reductive, I agree.


She Who Is wants to change that pattern of thinking to recognize the divinity of God in a manner removed from gender, thereby removing sexism from our presumptions about God and the way our relationship with God shapes our society.  Laudable goals and I agree it's worth aspiring to change our thought process from a male God figure to a divine God figure removed from that aspect of humanity. 


But I think sometimes Dr. Johnson conflates the references to "man" and "human" and uses them in ways that support her analysis rather than as an objective interpretation of what the writer is trying to say.  Sometimes the references to "man" she interprets as "human" and other times as "man", whichever suits her argument at the time.  "Gloria Dei vivens homo" she interprets as "The glory of God is revealed in humanity" as opposed to "man" or "mankind".  I absolutely agree that's a fair interpretation and probably rightly characterizes the intent of the statement.  So why can't that type of interpretation be used consistently when she reads "man"?  To break thought patterns is a valid answer.  Because it discloses inherent sexist intent I think is not.  Using a word that is capable of more than one interpretation I would not see as sexist per se, without further evidence to show there was an intention to make it so.  Rather, I think it would form a good opportunity to highlight, question and consider whether that is the best diction or whether there is a way to more clearly state the intended descriptor.


Dr. Johnson notes that Thomas Aquinas recognized that the divinity of God is beyond personhood, but that references to and uses of personal pronouns give us a means to access God and to interpret God through our own window of experience, without which the concept of the infinite may be beyond our understanding.  Again, I accept this view as valid, but think Dr. Johnson fails to recognize its applicability in the realm of what she describes as the patriarchal structures of the Church.


That is, I accept that the limited gender pronoun should not be the only way of referring to God; that to do so may limit our thought processes and understanding of God.  But to eliminate all patriarchal elements of the relationship between God the Son and God the Father removes some of the ability of humanity to understand God through the window of their own experiences.


Dr. Johnson is correct there is a patriarchal structure to the Church. She suggests that such a structure is inherently sexist and limiting, which may also be correct.  However, to suggest that any use of a patriarchal relationship to describe one's relationship to God is sexist, I think undermines the teachings of the bible and could be even more limiting.  Without the use of patriarchal structures as a window to interpret our relationship with God, we may be left with a fundamentally lessened understanding of God, because we don't have a window of experience to understand His/Her/Its divine nature.  At the time of Jesus' teachings or the gospel writings, He was finding ways to explain God through relationships and scenarios familiar to the people of the day.  Whether using wheat or plants, or shepherd analogies, he was trying to find ways to give people of the day a window into understanding the nature of God, His relationship to God and their relationship with God.

So to say that patriarchal elements of the religion are inherently sexist and limiting, I think is itself limiting.  Is a patriarchal structure the ideal one for the Church?  Hard to say.  But I don't think it's inherently wrong just because it's patriarchal.  In fact it may mirror the relationships that Jesus described between "man" (used here as humanity) and God.  Just because there is a top-down, hierarchical structure to the Church doesn't mean it's sexist.  It's an attempt to mirror the structure that's been passed down through Church teachings. 


From our modern perspective, it's hard to think of the pater familias without an element of sexism involved.  Just as it's hard to think of the type of control a master has over his servants or his slaves.  It is, in many ways, distasteful to think of God as a slaveowner and His relationship to humanity that of an owner to slaves, though it was a way of characterizing the relationship at the time that people would have been able to understand.  In the feudal world, it was easy to compare the structure of the lord or the king to the relationship between God and Man (again, humanity), and so many of the "patriarchal" references Dr. Johnson finds difficult evolved.  I don't necessarily see the role of pater familias as sexist.  It is a top down approach, and in ancient Roman society was a role always held by a male.  But other males of a household were also subject to the will of the pater familias.  Thinking of the role as "head of family" rather than "oldest male of the family" to my mind removes the sexism of the structure, and replaces it with the patriarchal model that Jesus used to describe the relationship with God.  It doesn't mean that the pater familias or the equivalent role in the Church need always be the oldest male, but it does describe the relationship which I believe Jesus was trying to use as a teaching point.


So I don't think it's right to throw out the value of those descriptors of relationship just because the "patriarchal" nature of them seems male oriented.  In fact, the patriarchal relationship between God and Man is, I think the closest description Jesus was able to give us of the role of God the Father in the trinity.  As our society moves further and further from the feudal society of the past, that relationship becomes more and more difficult to understand without examples.  Where is the king (or queen) or lord who can demand obedience?  What is the virtue of the gift of "Fear of the Lord"?  Where in our society can we look to gain an understanding of why you must give over your will entirely to the will of another?  I don't think the use of the male pronoun gives access to that understanding anymore, nor would I say that it should.  But understanding the role of the pater familias or seeing that role reflected in the Church as a patriarchal structure (whether that role is held by men or women) gives a sense of the structures that can lead to an understanding of one's relationship with God and one's role in God's plan.


I fear that the goal of freeing our understanding of the divinity of God from gender might mean losing the understanding we have of humanity's relationship with God.  As such, while I could endorse the concept of freeing God as a trinity from gender references, I'd be more hesitant about removing "God the Father" from the relationship to God the Son and by extension to man (humanity), and while I agree that patriarchal relationships should not be based on sexism, the nature of a hierarchical structure to describe and explain the nature of our relationship with God I think remains of fundamental importance to our quest to understand the nature of divinity.

Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan

I haven't read a Harry Dolan novel before.  I picked it out because I liked the sound of the author's name and the title had the ring of simplicity to it.


The novel opens with the protagonist buying materials to dig a grave and needing to deal with an engaging, personable cashier.  Standing at the bookshelf reading the first page or so, I thought it looked like it might be fun.


Bad Things Happen is a bit unusual in its perspective.  Although it appears to be largely subjective third person narration, it is very stripped down and does not disclose its narrator's internal monologue.  As an example, the protagonist is consistently referred to as "the man known as David Loogan" or "the man who calls himself David Loogan", but never thinks to himself of his real name or why he has assumed an alias.  I think it's intended as a way of building suspense, but it carries on a very long time in the book for (in my view) a relatively low stakes payoff.


The prose is supposed to be spare, the dialogue sharp and concise, and for the most part the novel achieves that.  I suspect the author's intention is to be reminiscent of Raymond Chandler or Elmore Leonard, but for me it felt a bit more like Choose Your Own Adventure.


Initially, as I thought that, I probably intended it as a criticism.  Choose Your Own Adventure novels were second person narrated, plot driven stories with lots of possible endings and very little characterization.  Thinking it through a bit further though, I think perhaps Mr. Dolan has made quite an effective adult version of Choose Your Own Adventure without the gimmick.


The lead character is so enigmatic, with no history or memory of where he is or why, the readers can put themselves in his shoes just like a Choose Your Own Adventure novel.  The removed narration, the lack of internal monologue become a proxy for a second person narration.  What if you agreed to help a friend dig a grave and the cashier at the counter wouldn't stop flirting with you?  What if your friend's story about the dead body seemed inconsistent with the physical facts of the scene?  What if you were having an affair with your friend's wife when he asks for your help?


In each case, you the reader don't get the chance to make the choice, but the narrative is sufficiently removed that it's inviting a degree of contemplation and consideration.  It's an interesting conceit, and one that can be fun when you get into it.  For the story itself, I didn't find the plot particularly compelling, and there were a few too many twists (though very consistent with Choose Your Own Adventure).  For myself, it always feels like cheating when the narrator doesn't allow himself to remember basic facts that would resolve the mystery or suspense much earlier than the author wants to have it resolved. 


I don't know if I'd read another Harry Dolan.  I think I'd need to be in the right frame of mind and, like the Choose Your Own Adventure series, would need to be excited about placing myself in the proposed adventure.

The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith

Robert Galbraith is, I understand, a pseudonym for J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter novels.  I read the first Robert Galbraith novel, Cuckoo's Calling, and I think was a little distracted by the possibility I was reading a new J.K. Rowling novel.


I didn't compare and closely analyze the writing style in this novel to compare against J.K. Rowling.  I tried to read the novel for itself, and to determine whether I'd be interested in reading another Robert Galbraith novel for Robert Galbraith, not because of Harry Potter.  I guess I thought of it like a TV Fall season premiere.  I usually watch the pilot, but I make my judgment about the show based on the second episode, since I feel it's more representative.


The Silkworm is the second novel to feature Cormoran Strike, private detective, and I was able to appreciate this novel much more on its own merits.  I enjoy private detective novels, and consider myself quite familiar with the genre.  It's fun to read a British example of the form, and I'm trying to think if I can recall one I've read since Sherlock Holmes and his various pastiches.


The mystery is a bit gruesome for my taste, and I would say more so than most private detective novels.  Mr. Galbraith makes good use of some modern technology; his detective doesn't spurn the idea of computer searches, but it still relies on classic private detective work.  The mystery is fair, and there are some reasonable clues.  As indicated in my earlier post, the characters are very well drawn and the relationships have the resonance of truth. 
Read While Walking: Entitlement vs Unreasonable Expectation


I really like the relationship between Strike and Robin.  I like their partnership and their characters.  I get a little nervous about the hints towards romantic tension between the two.  I like the idea of an equal working partnership uncluttered by romance... but I guess a lot of partnerships start out that way and ultimately change.  I don't mind if there's a nod towards some chemistry since most lonesome PIs have some unattainable love interest towards whom they are unreasonably chivalrous and chaste, and I have to confess I don't mind this relationship falling into that mold, provided it maintains the status quo I'm enjoying so much.


While I say the characterizations are good, I have to confess I'm still getting a handle on the character of Cormoran Strike.  He seems to be a loner in many ways, but also to have a vast network of very loyal friends and contacts.  His character is being revealed more than it was in Cuckoo's Calling and we're gradually getting a better sense of him with some overarching plotlines to provide additional depth for the constant reader.  While the grit of the stories and the streets he goes through, as well as his hardboiled but chivalrous knight personality meet the criteria required for the American PI, he's got enough quirks, distinctive aspects and startling leaps of logic to create a bridge with the British Consulting Detective.


I would look forward to reading another novel by Robert Galbraith, for itself, because I really enjoy the private detective genre, I like the British take on the form, and it was an enjoyable read.  I'd also read it for the relationship between Strike and Robin, and hope that Mr. Galbraith retains the similarly classic PI tradition that the relationship stays static no matter how many cases he solves.

The Fall, Episode 2 - end of 1st Season

I watched the second episode of The Fall and was originally thinking of a comment to make about how serial killer Dad is so used to giving baths and doing laundry that he got confused and gave his victim a bath and did her laundry... but the end of the episode had him giving some of the victim's jewellery to his daughter, and I stopped laughing along with serial killer Dad and started finding him pretty creepy.


I have since watched the balance of the episodes of the first season, and have found him increasingly creepy.  He really makes my skin crawl.  However, I have to acknowledge that although my first post (perhaps somewhat jokingly) found him unconvincing in meeting the standard serial killer profile due to his young children and purportedly happy marriage, I think the show has been pretty effective at showing his motivations and compulsions in a manner that is very believable.


Things that initially seem ludicrous ("my alibi is that I was committing a felony at the time of the incident") are perhaps more indicative of a mind that's not right and makes decisions and judgments differently from those of us who are not serial killers.  The one aspect I think would have assisted in explaining his motivations would be if he had  a female boss.  I suspect that was written otherwise because the show creators didn't want the show to seem overly misogynistic, and I think ultimately it was a good decision.  Similarly, it might seem to work better if Gillian Anderson were a brunette, but it would also be a little too "on the nose".  I like the parallels they set up between the two of them, in a way that feels organic when it could otherwise be cliché.  I find her deductive leaps a bit hard to credit sometimes, but the advantage is that each revelation comes as a surprise to the viewer as well.


I like how much thought the creators have put into the series, and will plan to watch the second season too... in part to make sure that Serial Killer Dad gets the justice that's coming to him in the end.

Book Organization - In the Car

As you might expect, I have a bit of a book storage problem.  A number of books are kept in the car... for donations to charity book drives, or books I've bought at used book sales, or for reading in case of emergency.  I also keep a number of books in the car for my children to read.


Yesterday I planned to get the car washed, at one of those places that does the carpets and upholstery too, so I needed to get all the books into proper places.  After filling up the pockets behind the seats, the console, the glove box, the door panel pockets and that space under the back area where the tire is stored, I still had some children's books which didn't fit.  Fortunately, my three year old had left his backpack (which he calls his Jet Pack) in the car.


I fit the books into the Jet Pack, carried it out with me when I walked through to pay at the car wash, and voila! Clean Car!


This morning I was driving my three year old  and he asked why there were all these books in his Jet Pack.  I explained that I had to clean up the car so the car wash could vacuum and I thought it would be best to organize his books in a place not on the floor or on the seats.  "Good idea or bad idea?", I asked. 


"Good idea.  But you should ask people before you use their Jet Packs."


"That's true," I acknowledged, "but it's nice to have a clean car, isn't it?"


"Yes, but."


A couple of minutes later he said "For example.  I have a muffin to save for later, I put it in your briefcase.  Good idea or bad idea?"


Point taken. 

Terry Pratchett

I read that Terry Pratchett passed away today.  I can remember reading his books and needing to stop because I couldn't see the page I was laughing so hard.  I think I'll need to re-read one or more of his novels as a tribute. 


I'll probably put Small Gods on my reading pile.  That was one of my favourites.  Any other suggestions?

Entitlement vs Unreasonable Expectation

I was reading The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith, and found an exchange I really liked, that made me think about the different perspectives on entitlement and unreasonable expectations.  I know (and those who read my thoughts here will know) that I'm pretty happy reading genre fiction, quick and relatively easy reads.  I don't frequently read modern "literature".  That being said, one of the things I love about the fiction I read is when the characterizations give rise to thoughts or insights about individuals, or humanity in general.


The Silkworm is the second book featuring Cormoran Strike, private detective.  In the first novel, Cuckoo's Calling, Cormoran hired Robin as his temporary assistant, a role which soon became permanent.


Robin loves her job.  She's excited by the prospect of working as a private detective, and finds fulfillment in being able to solve mysteries and actively help people.  She turned down a permanent job in human resources at approximately twice the salary to work for Strike.  When Strike agrees to keep her on, he suggests that he will train her to be an investigator as well.  Robin's fiancé doesn't feel she's being employed to her full capacity, and is perhaps resentful she didn't take a higher paying job.


Strike has recently broken up with his girlfriend and (in the first book) is living in his office.  In the second, his financial situation has improved somewhat and he is able to lease an attic room above his office.  He wasn't sure he could afford Robin even at the temp agency salary, and (in my recollection) initially couldn't afford the referral fee payable to the agency directly.  He's an army veteran, though there doesn't seem to be much in the way of a disability pension available to him. He borrowed money from his estranged father to establish the detective business and remains in significant debt.


In The Silkworm, Strike makes comments here and there about potentially hiring on an additional person to be the assistant investigator.  Initially I thought he was planning a surprise for Robin, that the new employee would be an office assistant while he trained her as an investigator.  But in fact, he is thinking of hiring an investigator while Robin continues as office assistant.


Robin feels betrayed by this, and increasingly angry at Strike.  They ultimately have a confrontation where each describes their perspective.  Is it resolved?  Somewhat.  Perhaps it's a little more pat than it would be in reality, but the fascinating thing for me is that the book (like its prequel), has chapters from Robin's perspective as well as those from Strike's, and leads up to that confrontation in a manner that lets the reader know exactly where the other party is coming from in a way that actual employee/employer interactions don't generally permit.


Robin's Perspective (Entitlement?)


Robin's fiancé is resentful.  He doesn't like her working long hours for less pay than she could readily get at another job.  Nevertheless, in spite of him, Robin continues to work loyally for Strike.  I have a sense that they live farther away from the workplaces than they would like, partially due to their collective salaries.  Robin goes far above and beyond what should be expected of an office assistant.  She's always willing to do whatever task Strike sets for her.  In return, she has not received the type of training she understood he promised her, and he's using her more and more as an office assistant and less as an investigator.  When Strike starts talking about hiring an investigator, Robin starts getting resentful.  As a result of his lack of appreciation for the extra work she does, she starts to cease work on the dot to get home at a decent hour, since if she's not happy at work she might as well make things better at home.  She expects significant praise and recognition when she goes beyond her job description, particularly since Strike is not recognizing her significant contributions as an assistant investigator.


Strike sees this as a sense of entitlement.  Robin does probably feel entitled, but in a manner which she believes is justified.  Not, in my mind, different from many employees.  Those who remain with a company out of their sense of loyalty, expecting that loyalty to be rewarded, but instead find themselves taken for granted, and promises of the employer (express or implied) get deferred and forgotten.  Employees who love their job and don't want to leave, but feel that their loyalty isn't reciprocated.  Employees who expect recognition and appreciation for the good job they do (whether rewarded at the time or not), but who expect that their accomplishments and the times they went above and beyond will be remembered at the next promotion opportunity.


Strike's Perspective (Unreasonable Expectation?)


Robin initially seemed enthusiastic about the job.  She was working for a temp agency, now she has regular employment in a job she likes to do.  She's his office assistant, and from time to time he sees that she gets an opportunity to participate more directly in his business.  His business is on a shoe string at best, he's living at (or over) the office, does not have a lot of money to spare for raises and promotions (as Robin well knows, and knew when she took the job).  He works evenings and weekends, frequently all night, maintaining surveillances on his own without back-up.  Robin doesn't volunteer to work any time outside the 9-5 and expects to work primarily or exclusively during office hours.  Investigative surveillance (as Robin knows) doesn't just happen during the working hours.  Increasingly he's noticed Robin is intent on leaving right on the dot of closing, and that she's uncomfortable with being asked to put in any extra hours or time, needing to clear it with her fiancé.  As a result, Strike concludes Robin's making a clear choice not to be an integral part of the business, not to share in the highs and lows, but just to draw a salary.  He needs someone who is prepared to actively participate in the business, and be vested in outcomes, not merely their paycheck.  If that's not Robin, he'll find someone who is.


Robin thinks Strike's expectations are unreasonable and don't take into account her past service and her dedication to the job.  Strike bases his conclusions on his needs for the business and what he sees her do, not what she's giving up to do it, or her difficulties at home that make it an accomplishment to participate to the extent she does.  Strike needs to be able to get someone who can increase the revenue of his business or make it easier for him to operate his business on his own.  He doesn't need someone who's just another cost centre.


In the result, each is looking at the role of the employee from their own vantage.  Robin looks at how employment fits into her life, and choices she makes to be able to be Strike's employee.  Strike is looking at how employment helps him and fits into his model for his business.  Each wants the most for and from what they are doing. 


So who's unreasonable here?  As I say, it's fascinating to get a truly empathic understanding of each perspective, and I commend Ms. Rowling (aka Mr. Galbraith) for being able to show it so clearly.  I think as a reader my sympathies lie with Robin, though it's close. 


From a broader perspective, where would my sympathies lie?  It's a tougher question.  For myself, I think employers underestimate the value of loyalty, and the value driven by someone who loves their job and will go above and beyond their job role.  I suspect too often employers seek the new, the flashy, the lateral hires, always looking to the other side of the fence without giving sufficient weight to the value of happy, loyal and dedicated employees, even if they aren't performing in each and every respect an employer could dream up.  From the employee's perspective, I think too often employees allow resentment to build up without reminding employers of the value they have.  Employers have short memories, and good work will either be forgotten by the next crisis or become part of the baseline expectation.  Employers who are challenged in meeting their employee costs will wonder why they should thank employees for merely doing their job, and take as a given that the employees should have the best interests of the business at heart.  Sometimes perhaps, employees need the opportunity, like Robin, to sit down with their employer and remind them of instances where they went above and beyond, tell them how loyal they are and their love for their job, but also point out when that is being jeopardized by employers taking them for granted or forgetting commitments and promises the employee was counting on.

The Fall, Episode One

I watched the first episode of The Fall yesterday.  I don't think I can recall seeing a show with such an implausible initial premise.  It's hard for me to get into the show because it's so ludicrously unrealistic.  I can suspend disbelief in lots of areas for entertainment, but this show is supposed to be taking place in our world, not some bizarre utopian world for serial killers.


As best I can tell, I am supposed to believe that one of the principal characters, Paul Spectre, is potentially a serial killer.  He's married, with two active children and a full time job.


Leave aside for the moment the question of why he would develop these criminal obsessions.  Sure, he's got a lot of frustration with the kids, doesn't like his job.  Okay, I'll accept the idea that could build to a violent , unquenchable rage that can only be temporarily sated through killing women who fit his victim profile  (though I think we'd have a lot more serial killers around if that were the case).


But when does he find time to stalk these women?  He's got a diary with all kinds of entries on it tracking their movements.  Sure, they show him bringing his kids or his wife along on the stalking missions, but does he think he's so non-descript that his daughter can run around in an arboretum pulling up plants and no one will remember him four hours later? 


Maybe I'm just self conscious.  When I'm out with my kids, whether they're pulling up public flowers or whether they're well behaved but talking in their usual tone of voice (i.e. can be heard across a playground without difficulty), I think people notice the parents and wonder about them.  Maybe not a lot, but enough that if they see the same guy at their local bar that night, and driving by their house and following them when they jog, that they might make a connection.


The show appears to imply that as a grief counselor he has pretty flexible hours, but at the same time, it appears he's a major, if not primary caregiver for one or both kids.  It's unclear why he's out with just the daughter at the greenhouse, but the son seems to be home alone in the evening and relying on Dad if he wakes up and needs a glass of water or something.  If his wife (who I gather is a nurse) has irregular shift work I don't see how he can count on regular surveillance activities to plot out his victim's schedules.  The show explains that by assuming that he can sneak out when his wife is working the night shift.   Have you ever tried to schedule something for "after the kids are asleep"?  In my house, that's a revered, mythical time, much talked about but never actually occurring.  Even if you think they're asleep, they'll be up again, you can bank on it.


Mr. Serial Killer Dad's kids are no different.  As soon as dad heads out to rifle through some woman's underwear drawers, the son wakes up and wants to know where Dad is.  He figures out how to call Dad's mobile and Dad doesn't answer.  I suspect that's because he's been called in the middle of creeping someone's house more than once before. In any event, I know my son would then promptly call Mom, even if she was at work.


The daughter regularly wakes screaming in the middle of the night from dreadful nightmares.  Does that sound like it creates a perfect opportunity for him to go out at night and take photos of himself standing in his victim's bathroom?  Is it a really good plan to keep his secret serial killer backpack hidden in his daughter's room, so he can sneak in and out at night whenever he needs to look at his gruesome pictures?


I don't see how he could arrange his schedule to find the time to devote to stalking and planning his murders. 


But even leaving aside the schedule, how could he develop the focus, the intensity needed to be a truly creepy serial killer?  Yes, he has these diaries with creepy pencil drawings of the women he plans to kill.  When would he work on a diary at all?  After the kids are asleep I guess (insert knowing parent laugh here). Have you ever tried drawing on a pad of paper while you have a six year old and a four year old around?  All of my paper writings have scribbles on them, additions to the artwork, food and beverage stains, rips and crumples.  I didn't even see any crushed cheerios in his serial killer diary.  In our "off limits" home office I have several tax forms with superhero and smurf stickers on them, the remains of a lollipop stuck to a business continuity plan, some chewed up cat treats, toy cars and half eaten candy that is being "saved" in my filing drawer (I just hope the cat treats were eaten by and are being saved for the cat, but I'm afraid to ask).


Can you maintain your focus to learn about the locks on your victim's back door while your daughter is in your lap asking questions about how whether she'll grow up to be a giant?  Can you be planning your next break-in while she's gotten into her mother's make-up case to make herself look like a singer and is showing you how good she can dance?  Could you make notes about your murderous fantasies while you're listening to "Dad. Dad. Dad.  Are you listening Dad?  Look at me Dad. Dad I'm doing stuff."  Maybe your answer is yes.  But are those murderous fantasies directed at female victims who fit your profile? 


And what about your energy level?  Yes, I get that these are young parents. That's the rationale for everyone who has more energy than I do, I guess.  But serial killer Dad is working a day job, picking up the daughter and looking after her after work, being awakened in the night to deal with nightmares and (since the wife is working shift work) probably making breakfasts and lunches too.  It's unclear at this time, but his alleged volunteer job at the suicide hotline may even have some basis in fact as well.   I have to say, I found it hard to believe he even maintains an exercise regimen in the face of all that.  The one part that rang true was Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson's (Gillian Anderson) analysis that the prolonged strangulation endured by the victims may not have been the result of torture, but may have been that the killer had gotten too tired to sustain a hold on their throat.  No kidding.  I'm surprised he didn't fall asleep in their beds after creepily laying out their underwear.


I could see how the lack of sleep could be driving this man to making poor decisions, exercising poor judgment.  I could even see his desire to set up that secret lair in the basement of an abandoned building, where he can work out and have a few minutes of quiet for himself.  But if most dads had a secret lair that they could sneak out to in the middle of the night I think they'd spend  the time there sleeping, maybe having a drink in peace, not making duplicates of keys to break into houses or standing outside to stare through someone's window.  Could you even stay awake to make creepy looking faces at them?  If it was me, I'd be found sleeping in their backyard the next morning I think.

Turn to Stone by Brian Freeman

Turn to Stone is a novella by Brian Freeman, but also featuring detective Jonathan Stride.  I found Brian Freeman at my local library... somewhere on the walk between Linda Fairstein and Stephen Frey, and decided to pick up Immoral.  I think part of the reason I became so enamored of his writing was the joy of discovery.  I had never heard of him before; never talked to anyone who read him and it all seemed very new.  The quality of the writing was (to my mind) exceptional and I've recommended him consistently since.


His novels are, for the most part, set in Northern Michigan, and usually in the winter.  He has a wonderful way of writing that sets the tone of the cold and desolate feeling of winter in the north.  Since that time I've avidly followed Mr. Freeman, and eagerly await his novels.  That being said, I have some difficulty finding them in my local bookstores.  I have yet to see The Cold Nowhere and have not found Season of Fear either.  So I turned to ebooks for short stories, and Turn to Stone was good to fill the time while waiting for his next one.  (I should mention I also read Spitting Devil, a kindle short story by Brian Freeman.  It was fine too... good to pass the time, and a clever premise about a woman who may be living with a serial killer). 


I like Jonathan Stride as a protagonist.  His past isn't unusually strange or tortured... he's just a widower trying to move on after his wife died of cancer, and throwing himself into his work initially as a way to deal with it.


I'd probably say this novella didn't have the same level of depth as his novels (and I'm not sure I would expect that), but was still very effective.  Good at evoking the place, the horror and the sense of cold and isolation.  He's heavy on the descriptive words, and a little heavy handed at working in the title as a bit of a twist, but it all works very well together.  Like Mr. Freeman's other books, he has a way of explaining evil while still making it suspenseful, unknowable and terrifying.


I really liked Stride's interaction with his uncle.  We haven't seen much of his family before and it was nice to see something of that relationship.  Most exciting to me though was the possibility that Stride may be thinking about getting back together with Serena again.  I really liked her as a character... and while I liked her better in Vegas, Stride needs his wintry home.  I still like the idea of their relationship, even though I can't really see how it can work.  Thinking of it, I guess I like reading stories featuring Serena.  I don't need her to be with Stride, but I like the idea Mr. Freeman may be at least re-connecting with her, which may lead to having her own stand-alone story.


I find Stride's attachment to Michigan very effective.  He's in the cold, understands it, and loves it without needing to say so.  His love for the winter and the Great Lakes wouldn't be able to be summed up as "Stride likes winter".  I'm not even sure that he'd describe himself that way.  But the winter there is a part of him, in a way that makes him unable to survive in Las Vegas or, perhaps, anywhere else in the world.  That sense of belonging to his city or state rings true in a very natural way, that's hard to put a finger on, but is an indelible characteristic of those who live in places with harsh climates.   


I think Maggie Bei doesn't feel that she's a part of the community in the same way... perhaps because she seems to be denying the existence of winter or defying the effect of the cold on her.  This novel sees Stride very lightly working through some of the issues between he and Maggie, and I think underlying their relationship is that Stride is a part of Michigan and a part of the winter, and though he'd be the first to tell Maggie that she's not an outsider, he has an implicit recognition that this is his home, his community and he can't leave.  I think he'd have a subconscious fear that Maggie would, at some point, want him to leave his home. 


That's what I like so much about Mr. Freeman's writing.  In the course of the novella, in the space of perhaps one verbal exchange and a paragraph of internal (superficial) thought, I can read in to Jonathan Stride motivations he (as a character) may not even be able to recognize in himself.  It's very effective and I can't think of many authors who can create characters with such depth and realism.  I'd strongly recommend Mr. Freeman's novels for those interested in police procedural mystery with a strong element of suspense.

The Burning Room by Michael Connelly

As attentive readers will note, I have a lot of authors I like.  I have a lot of authors I like a lot.  But if pressed to name a favourite, I would usually say Michael Connelly.  I thoroughly enjoy the Harry Bosch novels and the Lincoln Lawyer novels.  Although I'm eager to get them as soon as they're released, I also want to hold onto them to build the anticipation and wait for just the right time to read them; when I can devote to them the attention they deserve.


I also find that I tend to read them almost too quickly, and very soon thereafter want to do a re-read.  I've enjoyed following Harry's progress through the role of private investigator (which I greatly enjoyed) and onto the cold case squad.  I've always felt, however, that it would be nice for Harry to have a true partner, so he doesn't feel like the last coyote.  I've been worried it was going to need to wait until his daughter was ready to join the force.


The Burning Room sees Harry teamed up with another new partner.  I liked Jed as a character, and while I can see Iggy and Chu as perhaps being representative of different types of cops, I never really warmed to them, and never really viewed them as partners with Harry.  (At least with Jerry I liked the partnership dynamic between them, even if Harry didn't view him as a true partner in detecting).  Kiz Rider falls into a bit of a different category. I always had a harder time putting my finger on her character.  I guess I couldn't picture her like I can picture most of the other characters in Mr. Connelly's novels, and similarly couldn't always perceive her motivations.  I liked her role in The Drop however, and thought it was a good way to provide some closure to that relationship.  I have never warmed to Rachel Walling, though I thought for a while that's where Mr. Connelly was leading Harry.  Eleanor Wish has been close to the type of partner I thought Harry needed; so has Nancy Mendenhall (had to look it up, but she was the professional standards investigator) from The Black Box, but based on their roles and relationships with the LAPD, neither would have worked as a partner for Harry. 


In The Burning Room, Harry's partner is Lucia Soto, and I really like her.  She's the first partner of Harry's that I've really enjoyed reading about to the point I'd be interested in seeing her own novel since Eleanor Wish. Lucia's character can still be fleshed out a little more (in some ways she seems perhaps like a female Harry), but it took a while for Harry to fully emerge as well, and I trust Mr. Connelly's patience in developing her.   The Burning Room sees Harry working on multiple cases at once, in a way that's very deftly handled from a plot perspective.  It's not unusual to see Harry working on, or running into multiple aspects of cases, but this is one of the more segmented investigations I recall.


I really enjoyed the ending.  I've been worried about Harry retiring, or moving on (and by extension, Mr. Connelly) since 9 Dragons, and I haven't felt like there's been a worthy successor to take over the series.  Mr. Connelly's relentless aging of the character has been getting me increasingly nervous, and I've felt the ticking of the clock just like Harry since The Drop.


This book finally brought to me a sense of relief.  I haven't been able to be comfortable with Harry being without a partner who understands his motivations and is driven by the same ones.  I think for closure, Harry needs a true partner in his mission.  With Lucia, I think Harry will be able to find someone that can carry on his mission in a way more meaningful than making it a campaign slogan.  I liked the way the book ended; I like where I think things will go.  I guess I could leave Harry here if I had to... but I'm looking forward to the next Michael Connelly novel anyway.

Jackpot by James Swain

I recently wrote about True Detective, and that I thought it would be fun if Hart and Cohle formed a private investigation firm that worked on missing children, much like Jack Carptenter of the James Swain novels. 
Read While Walking: True Detective (Spoilers) an alternative theory


Perhaps what brought that to mind was my current James Swain novel, Jackpot.  Jackpot is not part of the Jack Carpenter series, but is part of Mr. Swain's Tony Valentine series.


I find these novels an awful lot of fun.  They're light and fairly bright and upbeat.  They tend to take place in Las Vegas or other gambling meccas, but take the most positive view of those places that I've ever read in fiction.  The Tony Valentine novels provide Mr. Swain with an opportunity to showcase and explain con games, illusions and tricks used by cheaters to swindle (or beat) the casino, and Tony Valentine or his assistants figure out the swindles and catch the con men.  It's easy to see the enjoyment Mr. Swain takes in describing these cons, and there's always a bit of a temptation for the description of the swindle to overwhelm the story.

However, one of the things I enjoy more than a good heist plot is a good con-man story, and the rarity of the Tony Valentine novels is that the con man is not the protagonist.  So it makes an opportunity to watch and appreciate the con without the guilt or noir aspect of feeling conflicted over the guilty getting punished in one way or another. 


The Tony Valentine novels (like Perry Mason novels) accord the greatest respect for authority.  In these novels he (as a former Atlantic City copy) shows a great deal of respect and deference to casinos, casino security and gaming commission agents.  It's quite a different perspective than I usually see in novels relating to casinos and I find I really enjoy it.  That being said, these novels don't usually treat, nor do they look at, social ills related to or resulting from gambling.  Quite the reverse, they tend to have the perspective that casinos can save or significantly improve the quality of life for aboriginal peoples... but I wouldn't say there's a lot of depth in that analysis or review, it's pretty incidental.


This particular novel, Jackpot deals with a con man/cheat who appears to have figured out a way to predict or cause electronic gaming machines to pay out a jackpot.  While the earlier Valentine novels still dealt with mechanical slot machines, this is one of the first to address ways in which people could cheat the modern, computerized method of gambling.  Again, I found it fascinating to read about potential ways to cheat the machines, and had a strong sense that Mr. Swain enjoyed writing about them.


In this book, Tony is partnered with his son Gerry, and I really liked it.  In most of the novels, Gerry appears to be a bit of an embarrassment to Tony, who wants to separate himself from his son, the ex-con.  In this one Gerry does some maturing, and is able to bring his own abilities to the table to work together with his dad.  As such, I found I enjoyed the characters, and was much more invested in the plot than I sometimes am with the Tony Valentine novels.  It was still light and fun, and a good read, and it was nice to see Mabel get to do some investigating on her own as well.

True Detective (Spoilers) an alternative theory

My sister liked the ending of True Detective.  Spoilers will follow.


She liked the character growth for Rustin Cohle and his new view of the world.  I liked that too (though I found it a bit reminiscent of Tommy Lee Jones' voiceover at the end of No Country for Old Men).  Like her, I'd also love to see a sequel or series about the new adventures of Hart and Cohle Private Investigators.  Particularly if they made their focus child abductions.


(As a side suggestion, I like the Jack Carpenter books by James Swain, (Midnight Rambler etc.) about a cop turned private investigator who investigates missing children... might work perfectly for the series).


So while I agree with her about that, and I agree I still like the series, I continue to struggle with all the loose ends and perceived inconsistencies of the ending.  Accordingly, I have an alternative theory about the ending.


Have I left enough room for those who want to be warned of spoilers?


I continue to cling to my idea of a greater conspiracy surrounding the child abductions.  While I can recognize that banality of evil may be an underlying message, I don't think it fits with what we saw on this show.


But what if Russ was right not to trust the two interrogating detectives?  They're the ones who called the case wrapped with the death of the maintenance man, they're the ones who didn't investigate his father any further, and also seem to have closed the case on the suspicious death of Billy Tuttle.  Although they pulled it out to threaten Cohle, they didn't seem to have any interest in pursuing it after the death of maintenance man.  And while the closing of the file and the death of maintenance man gave Cohle the closure he needed to be able to let the case go, was there legitimate ground for investigating him in the first place?


Assume for the moment that there is a conspiracy.  Hart and Cohle get called in for questioning to find out how far they got in their earlier investigation, particularly whether there was information that didn't make it into the file.  They investigate what, if anything, Cohle may have learned from or about Billy Tuttle before he died.  They find he's investigating on his own and may have been continuing to harbor suspicions about Billy Tuttle and the governor and the role the state police may have played in covering up and failing to link the child abductions.


They can't hold him, let him go.  Hart gets close to the investigation (my original theory, posted here http://readwhilewalking.blogspot.com/2015/02/true-detective.html posited that Hart could have been involved in the child abduction ring or conspiracy, though I thought it was a stretch.  I like his character, don't want to think he was involved (and I still think it's a stretch), but if he was, they have an inside man to the investigation, who then points Cohle at the maintenance man and finds tax records supporting this approach.  If Hart's not involved, then the death of maintenance man was just fortuitous for them to wrap the case.


So was maintenance man involved?  Perhaps... probably in working with Reggie Ledoux and perhaps the killing of Dora Lang.  But not necessarily in the abduction of children or the killing of Marie Fontenault.  The same problems identified in my earlier post about the conclusion of the show
(Read While Walking: True Detective Conclusion (spoilers). Review and commentary.) apply here to the access and ability of maintenance man to effect these crimes, to tape them and to justify Billy Tuttle's access to the tape, as well as the inconsistency of one serial killer ritually killing adult women 17 years apart and the balance of the time killing children according to a different ritual.  My recollection is what tied maintenance man to Dora Lang was the finding of a knife consistent with her knife wounds, but I don't recall hearing anything about DNA, fingerprint or other evidence.  If Carcosa was the site for keeping trophies, I'd expect to find trophies of the killings, but it doesn't necessarily mean maintenance man was responsible for those killings.


So the interrogating detectives can gloss over all of this, and send Cohle on his way by simply telling him maintenance man was connected to all the crimes, Cohle got the killer and no need to ask any further questions.  Cohle's free to go and they won't ask any more questions about Billy Tuttle.


Although I still like the idea that Cohle's been undercover investigating the child abduction ring, it's not essential to this theory (though again, potential spin-off series could be other cases Cohle was working in the last 8 years).  Just that Cohle was a threat, and the case had to be closed.  Interrogating detectives did that, Cohle has moved along and (perhaps) the abductions continue unabated.


In that case, the "true detective" shouldn't stop investigating when he or she reaches what appears to be a tidy conclusion with the perpetrator dead.  A true detective needs to keep asking questions until all the loose ends are tied up, because a true solution fits all the pieces together.  That's what haunted Cohle for 8 years, because it was what he and Martin did in 1995.  By failing to follow the clues to their conclusion another woman and a number of children died.  Now he's doing it again.

The Armageddon Rag by George R.R. Martin

I really enjoy A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin.  As a result, in between and while waiting for new volumes to appear (and since I can't just keep re-reading that series over and over) I've been working my way through some of Mr. Martin's earlier works.


I have enjoyed his short stories (I read Dreamsongs vol. 2  a few months ago, though not reviewed on this blog) but was curious to try out one of his longer works.  Mr. Martin seemed to think highly of this book, judging by his comments in Dreamsongs, though he acknowledged it did not perform well.  Between that and the Stephen King endorsement on the cover, I had high hopes of discovering a lost treasure. 


Unfortunately I'm left looking for positive things I can say.  The book starts off fairly slow, and I suspect Mr. Martin felt a little too close to the protagonist, Sandy Blair.  A number of the conversations and interactions between characters feel like conversations with straw men to make the point the narrator wants to make.  A number of the characters speak in the same voice, and the "bad guys" in the book are for the most part evil for the sake of being evil, without other reasons for it.


The book is good in that it shows how far Mr. Martin has come to reach the A Song of Ice and Fire series, but it takes pretty careful searching to find elements to enjoy in it.  I guess I have three particular areas worth comment and which have given me something to think about.


Firstly, I like the relationship between Sandy and his real estate agent partner.  Although I think she's being described as almost artificially cold (much like the Butcher is almost artificially violent and cruel), there are aspects of that relationship that ring true.  I guess that applies to most of Sandy's interactions.  All characters are portrayed wholly as Sandy perceives them, and entirely from the perspective of the effect they have on Sandy, often caricatured for the dominant way they affect him.  It's an interesting technique to demonstrate the completely self-absorbed narrator, I'm just not sure at this stage that Mr. Martin had the craft to pull it off without seeming to be a self-absorbed author himself.  However it serves as a good precursor to his use of the unreliable narrator in later works.  I think of nuanced villainy as one of the hallmarks of Mr. Martin's writing, and it's hard to see here.  I think some of his villains (The Butcher in particular) have rationales for what they do and why they do it, but looking only through Sandy's eyes makes it hard to see. 


Secondly, I'm reminded somewhat of a comment either made by or about Stephen King, that anything he tries to write turns into horror and suspense sooner or later.  I felt that way about this book.  The journalistic investigation combined with a rolling stone magazine style history of music and events of the 60's was probably where Mr. Martin set out to go, but (for me) it just wasn't working.  Once we get to the idea of the undead, and possession and possibly vampiric spirits, that's when the book starts to be enjoyable reading.  But it takes a long time to get there, and it's a bit of a slog until it reaches that point.

Finally, I think Mr. Martin is trying to imbue the passion he has for the music into the book.  There's an awful lot of descriptive language about the music played by the Nazgul, the way the drums and guitars sound, the anger and fury to it.  I'm not a music critic by any means.  The descriptions seemed convincing of someone who enjoys very hard rock, on the verge of death metal.  But is that the music that's representative of the 60's?  To the extent it is, I'd expect the protagonist to be listening to the Stones, which is probably as close as it comes.  Black Sabbath, the Ramones, the extreme heavy metal was all later than the 60s.  Guitarists playing loud and shirtless and raging, I don't associate with the 60s.  But even if I did, I'm not sure that Sandy, so passionate about the band, would be listening to Simon and Garfunkel in his car and play the Beatles all night long amid these Nazgul tapes. 


I think it goes back to the original intent of the plot.  Mr. Martin wanted a historical look at the 60s and how the music influenced the movement.  But his story wandered into satanic cults and the undead and he needed something harder.  The anger of the 60s and protests of war were expressed more by Credence Clearwater Revival and Barry McGuire and folk singers, but that doesn't line up with the driving anger of the music Mr. Martin wanted to represent to channel the vampires and evil forces, so he needed to make the Nazgul into a hard rock, Black Sabbath style band.  While justifiable from a literary licence standpoint, it made the book hard to place in time, which made it harder to get into the story completely.  It also made the coming of age aspect difficult to place.  Sandy was doing lots of pining for his lost youth, and the poor quality of music kids these days listen to... but he's supposed to be in his early thirties, not his early forties, and the music kids would have been listening to in 1981 would have been pretty consistent with the sound described for the Nazgul I think, though far removed from the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel or the Beatles.


In all, I think it's a book that doesn't quite work, but gave me a few things to think about and some things to watch for in Mr. Martin's writing.  And even a lesser George R.R. Martin entry is good to read while waiting for the next entry in his opus.

True Detective Conclusion (spoilers). Review and commentary.

I completed watching True Detective this weekend.  I decided I just couldn't wait for my wife to catch up and had to finish it on my own.  I'm not sure if that speaks to my impatience or is a testament to my patience that I waited so long before giving in.


In any event...


I had proposed, in an earlier post, certain ideas relating to the nature of Rustin Cohle's investigation and where I thought it was going.


http://readwhilewalking.blogspot.com/2015/02/true-detective.html


I continued to pat myself on the back throughout episode five and six, and up until the last five minutes of episode 7  (though I became a bit concerned at Russ' intentional cruelty towards criminals).


Have I left enough space for those worried about spoilers to move on?  Probably.


I didn't like the ending.  I was kind of annoyed.  I'm capable of pretending to be mature enough to recognize that it's partly sour grapes, because I think my theory was better.  But I still didn't like it.


Instead of a conspiracy involving the governor and his family, the master plot connected to the revival churches and the schools started by the governor's family, the secret abductions and cultish significance of it all was an inbred maintenance man who happened to work at the schools where the abductions occurred.  My first response was "rrrrrright."  (Times like these I wish I had sarcastic font).  So the resolution is the maintenance man, happens to be related to a sheriff (now deceased) who covered up one of his abductions and he just managed to avoid any state police intervention or awareness of all the others.


What about all the plot holes that leaves unaddressed?  Both subjective and objective evidence seems to be ignored with this answer, and I have a number of areas where I felt as though the show was looking to wind-up quickly with a cheap apparent answer that is ultimately unsatisfying.  (Perhaps that's unfair... I'll post another entry where I consider the actual intention of the show's creators).


Firstly, the facial scarring of the perpetrator.  Described as having a spaghetti beard, and sufficiently recognizable to be a face of horror, to cause screaming fits of "the scars, the scars" on the girl he abducted and to be an easy point of reference to identify him after 17 years or more.  I thought it looked like a beard.  I didn't really recognize it as scarring at first, despite viewing in hi-def.  This is the basis of my "cheap" shot above.  Have they seen the Hound on Game of Thrones?  I think this would have been more plausible with significant and noticeable scarring.  The only reason not to is that they wanted to have Russ kicking himself for speaking to the guy and not recognizing him when he was identified.


Where was Russ for the past eight years?  He says Alaska, but doesn't really say why, nor why he comes back.  What prompted his return at this time?  He comes back just in time for the Lake Charles murder.  An unusual coincidence if he did, and he's not involved.  Why was the Lake Charles murder the first one publicly staged in 17 years?  What prompted the change in pattern by the maintenance man (from burying bodies or preserving them at Carcosa) with Dora Lang in 1995 and what prompted it now?  Recall that a fire was set where Dora Lang was staged to be sure attention would be drawn to the body, and it looked like the Lake Charles one drew attention as well, for the lead detectives to have captured a picture of Russ in a crowd (though despite that, media on this murder was almost completely suppressed).


How about the green ears?  Has anyone ever accidentally spraypainted both their ears?  I'm not even sure I saw this as a plot point that needed to be connected.  It could easily have "fit" as an example of local sheriffs not taking abduction reports seriously, and didn't have to be the same perpetrator.  i.e. spaghetti beard monster with green ears could have been overlooked and forgotten.  In my view, that would be a lot more plausible than spraypainting green ears leading to a business record search that took them to the guy's home.


What about the "dream" that Marie Fontenault's friend had, of men in masks taking pictures and assaulting him in the children's residences in the night?  I described the alleged perpetrator as a maintenance man, but should perhaps have clarified that's outdoor maintenance.  No indication he would have had keys to student residences or an ability to appear on premises outside of working hours.  And why would the school authorities not take that seriously, or try to suppress it?  No answer.


How did maintenance man (a Mr. Childress, but didn't catch his first name) make contact with Reggie Ledoux?  What was the connection?  How did Reggie Ledoux become fixated on the same cult aspect of staging the crimes?  Because it was clearly Ledoux that was tied to Dora Lange.  So they did it together?  Then why didn't they wear their animal masks when abusing the kids Reggie had abducted?  (The survivor didn't indicate they wore masks, and nothing indicated they found animal masks at the scene).  If Reggie wasn't into the cult aspects of the crime, then who killed Dora and staged the scene with the antlers? 


What about the video evidence of  the six or seven men abusing Marie Fontenault while wearing masks?  Why did Billy Tuttle have that video? Russ seems sure the video was filmed at maintenance man's house... was Tuttle there?  Is that house the home of the Yellow King?  Is that the place "down south" where the missing and murdered women and children go? I don't even recall if they said there was evidence he was responsible for the Lake Charles murder as well (don't even recall if that victim had a name).  It also doesn't explain the lack of media on the Lake Charles murder.


What was with the tied up dead body in the shed, maintenance man's dad?  Did he just die moments before Martin found him?  Because he didn't look like Mama Bates (petrified and preserved).  I don't recall any statement by the two lead detectives about an investigation into him.  Was he the mastermind behind the abductions?   Did he have the connections with the governor?  If so, what was his job and his connection to the schools?  When did maintenance man take over?  What prompted him to be tied up now?  Or is he supposed to have been tied up for 17 years?  Or since Lake Charles? Was he keeping a rein on maintenance man, and those two occasions he slipped the leash?  Then why so many abductions at other times, and how did maintenance man build Carcosa with all the bodies etc. under his nose?  And why would the governor/police authorities suppress evidence and investigations into child abductions and suppress media awareness of a serial killer?  As I understand it, maintenance man is an illegitimate son of an illegitimate son of the governor's grandfather or uncle.  I don't see that connection being important enough to cover up for a bunch of crimes.  Unless the resolution put forward by the show is that there is no cover-up, just lazy police work and people who don't care about missing kids. 


I guess that's supposed to be the answer.  Even though Martin is a "people person" and makes investigative leaps equivalent to those made by Russ, it's Russ that can make the connection with these families of victims because he can't let the victims go either, and his quest for resolution includes vengeance and retribution to the criminals (as evidenced by covering up Martin's murder of Ledoux and his various statements to criminals confessing their crimes, like suggesting suicide for the Munchausen syndrome woman).  So Russ is a "true detective" because he doesn't let a case go until it's solved, but that for those who do not have the true calling, they just let victims go forgotten and uninvestigated.


And the answer to all those other avenues of investigation which were left unpursued is given by the two lead detectives, that sometimes in reality things just don't get wrapped up.  Bah.  I still don't like it.