Strip for Murder features Shell Scott, private detective. I like the Shell Scott books. They tend to be a lot of fun, pretty campy and over the top and a bit of a send-up of the hardboiled detective novel.
Richard S. Prather imagines a world where the criminal underclass is identifiable by their nicknames and their Dick Tracy-like villainous physical identifiers. They speak in hood-speak, a linguistic code known to few outside of criminals, tipsters and our hero, Shell Scott.
I mentioned earlier that Donald Lam's weakness seems to be a good book
Read While Walking: Why Donald Lam is my favourite detective. Shell Scott has a weakness for women. It's done in a humourous, bordering on ridiculous manner, but it usually draws a laugh, since he can't seem to think straight or keep his mind on his objective when there's an attractive woman in close proximity.
Strip for Murder involves Shell Scott investigating a nudist colony. A surprising number of Shell Scott novels involve the detective being obligated to be around women with clothing deficits, and it usually means our detective is unable to make his brain fully function. He gathers clues through his criminal underground telegraph, and blunders around until he solves the mystery and saves the day.
A couple of elements from Strip for Murder seem a bit recycled, and the mystery isn't much of a trick for those who can decipher hood-speak, but it's still fun. Richard S. Prather tries to include a little more characterization than usual for the love interest, having her demonstrate a few emotions from time to time, but quickly breezes past that to get on with the plot. The big set pieces, involving a knight in armor, and the finale with the balloons had me chuckling out loud, and that's why I like to pick up the Shell Scott books.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Friday, June 19, 2015
Why Donald Lam is my favourite detective
I've been re-reading a few of the A.A. Fair novels of late. Once I started Turn on the Heat
Read While Walking: Turn on the Heat by A.A. Fair I just started to run through all of them.
I like the humour. I love the titles (Some Slips Don't Show is probably one of my all time favourite titles). I like the attempt to write in a hard boiled style, without making it all about the style. I like the cleverness of the tricks used to uncover clues. But most of all, I like Donald Lam. He's smart, he's loyal, he puts women on a pedestal, he's tricky, but from the standpoint of a reader who likes to identify with a protagonist, I love how much Donald likes to read.
In Double or Quits a client needs to step out for a couple of minutes, tells Donald to make himself comfortable and enjoy a paperback, but that he'll be back in twenty minutes. Two and a half hours later, Donald looks up from his book and realizes the client hasn't come back. (Unfortunately for our detective, his client is dead).
In Kept Women Can't Quit, Donald picks up a magazine in an apartment to flip through, and then naturally hangs onto it. When left with nothing else to do, he reads and re-reads and re-reads it almost obsessively, and in the end finds a clue.
In Some Women Won't Wait, Donald is on a cruise to Hawaii, and is supposed to make contact with a woman seated at his table for dinner. Donald has been told she'll make the approach. Donald doesn't talk to her much at dinner, and following dinner he heads back into his stateroom to settle down with a book. Bertha asks Donald why he isn't with her, and Donald says he was waiting for her to make the contact. Bertha points out she isn't likely to come down to his stateroom, tear the door off its hinges and pull his nose out of his book.
But my favourite instance of Donald compulsively reading is in Bedrooms Have Windows. Donald skulks around the back of a house searching for a woman who had tried to frame him earlier. He sees the woman in her bedroom in the process of getting dressed. She invites him in, then she suggests he wait in her sister's bedroom while she finishes getting dressed. Donald sees a book and settles down to read. An hour later, the sister comes in to see him sitting there reading, thinks he's an intruder and starts to scream. Of course, the woman has been murdered in her own bedroom, and Donald didn't hear a thing because he was absorbed in the book.
It's not overdone in the series, but since hardboiled private detectives rarely have hobbies or much of a social life, I really like that Donald's off-duty entertainment seems to center around reading mystery novels. Lots of mystery fans can probably relate to that.
Read While Walking: Turn on the Heat by A.A. Fair I just started to run through all of them.
I like the humour. I love the titles (Some Slips Don't Show is probably one of my all time favourite titles). I like the attempt to write in a hard boiled style, without making it all about the style. I like the cleverness of the tricks used to uncover clues. But most of all, I like Donald Lam. He's smart, he's loyal, he puts women on a pedestal, he's tricky, but from the standpoint of a reader who likes to identify with a protagonist, I love how much Donald likes to read.
In Double or Quits a client needs to step out for a couple of minutes, tells Donald to make himself comfortable and enjoy a paperback, but that he'll be back in twenty minutes. Two and a half hours later, Donald looks up from his book and realizes the client hasn't come back. (Unfortunately for our detective, his client is dead).
In Kept Women Can't Quit, Donald picks up a magazine in an apartment to flip through, and then naturally hangs onto it. When left with nothing else to do, he reads and re-reads and re-reads it almost obsessively, and in the end finds a clue.
In Some Women Won't Wait, Donald is on a cruise to Hawaii, and is supposed to make contact with a woman seated at his table for dinner. Donald has been told she'll make the approach. Donald doesn't talk to her much at dinner, and following dinner he heads back into his stateroom to settle down with a book. Bertha asks Donald why he isn't with her, and Donald says he was waiting for her to make the contact. Bertha points out she isn't likely to come down to his stateroom, tear the door off its hinges and pull his nose out of his book.
But my favourite instance of Donald compulsively reading is in Bedrooms Have Windows. Donald skulks around the back of a house searching for a woman who had tried to frame him earlier. He sees the woman in her bedroom in the process of getting dressed. She invites him in, then she suggests he wait in her sister's bedroom while she finishes getting dressed. Donald sees a book and settles down to read. An hour later, the sister comes in to see him sitting there reading, thinks he's an intruder and starts to scream. Of course, the woman has been murdered in her own bedroom, and Donald didn't hear a thing because he was absorbed in the book.
It's not overdone in the series, but since hardboiled private detectives rarely have hobbies or much of a social life, I really like that Donald's off-duty entertainment seems to center around reading mystery novels. Lots of mystery fans can probably relate to that.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Shut Your Eyes Tight by John Verdon
Shut Your Eyes Tight is the second novel I've read by John Verdon, after Think of a Number. Both novels featured retired police detective Dave Gurney.
I didn't enjoy Shut Your Eyes Tight as much as the first novel. In Think of a Number, I found Dave Gurney an interesting character, relatively young to be in retirement, adjusting to both that and his attempts to deal with grief from the death of his four year old son a number of years ago, which he has been able to suppress to this point by immersing himself in his work.
So when Gurney was self absorbed, and not paying attention to his wife and able to enjoy his retirement, I felt like he had a built in excuse that was being resolved over the course of the novel.
In Shut Your Eyes Tight, I found the character much less likable. He barely referred to his four year old son at all. Instead he dealt with issues with his semi-estranged adult son from his first marriage (I hadn't recalled the earlier novel indicating this was a second marriage for him, or anything about a grown son, though it could be I've forgotten). To me, this seemed much more like immature angst, and his willingness to completely ignore his wife's happiness, concerns and requests didn't frame the character as a driven man, obsessed with his work, but instead as a selfish jerk looking to escape from his marriage. His inability to acknowledge that he was in any way in the wrong is not the character I remember from the first book.
Stripped of its elements, the mystery was fairly standard locked room stuff, and I didn't find the solution surprising. That being said, it was well written, and very readable. If I was describing a comparative author, I'd probably say it's like Karin Slaughter. The plots are intense, gory and grim. The characters are not entirely likable, there's no humour or lightness, and you know it won't be an entirely happy ending, but it is compelling reading.
My concern with Mr. Verdon (based on this novel) is that he views his characters not as real people, but as constructs to move his plots forward. As such, consistency in motivation and action, particularly across novels, may not be his priority. I think I'll need to read another to determine if this assessment is fair. So I'd try another by John Verdon, but I'm a bit wary, and if I like Detective Gurney any less on the next try, I may not continue with his series.
I didn't enjoy Shut Your Eyes Tight as much as the first novel. In Think of a Number, I found Dave Gurney an interesting character, relatively young to be in retirement, adjusting to both that and his attempts to deal with grief from the death of his four year old son a number of years ago, which he has been able to suppress to this point by immersing himself in his work.
So when Gurney was self absorbed, and not paying attention to his wife and able to enjoy his retirement, I felt like he had a built in excuse that was being resolved over the course of the novel.
In Shut Your Eyes Tight, I found the character much less likable. He barely referred to his four year old son at all. Instead he dealt with issues with his semi-estranged adult son from his first marriage (I hadn't recalled the earlier novel indicating this was a second marriage for him, or anything about a grown son, though it could be I've forgotten). To me, this seemed much more like immature angst, and his willingness to completely ignore his wife's happiness, concerns and requests didn't frame the character as a driven man, obsessed with his work, but instead as a selfish jerk looking to escape from his marriage. His inability to acknowledge that he was in any way in the wrong is not the character I remember from the first book.
Stripped of its elements, the mystery was fairly standard locked room stuff, and I didn't find the solution surprising. That being said, it was well written, and very readable. If I was describing a comparative author, I'd probably say it's like Karin Slaughter. The plots are intense, gory and grim. The characters are not entirely likable, there's no humour or lightness, and you know it won't be an entirely happy ending, but it is compelling reading.
My concern with Mr. Verdon (based on this novel) is that he views his characters not as real people, but as constructs to move his plots forward. As such, consistency in motivation and action, particularly across novels, may not be his priority. I think I'll need to read another to determine if this assessment is fair. So I'd try another by John Verdon, but I'm a bit wary, and if I like Detective Gurney any less on the next try, I may not continue with his series.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Turn on the Heat by A.A. Fair
Since I recently read The Stranger by Harlen Coben
Read While Walking: The Stranger by Harlen Coben, I thought I would re-read one of the A.A. Fair books that addressed the more classic Harlen Coben scenario where someone disappears then makes a reappearance many years later.
I love the A.A. Fair novels. They feature Erle Stanley Gardner's protagonists Bertha Cool and Donald Lam, private detectives. Turn on the Heat is one of the earlier novels, with Donald not yet a partner in the agency and getting beat up all the time. The book also makes oblique reference to how little Bertha or anyone knows about Donald (in The Bigger they Come Bertha divined that "Lam" was not Donald's real name).
Turn on the Heat has Donald pull a couple of clever tricks, turning the tables on someone who is trying to frame him, and keeps Donald's character closer to the early books, where he holds a grudge and will find a way to get back at those who wrong him. I'm not convinced the end solution resolves the problem for his client beyond election day (he's still a politician who has been in a bigamous marriage for years), but perhaps Donald's frame up of some of the corrupt elements is sufficient to carry things through for him.
The central question of why a person disappeared, and why they chose to reappear now is resolved nicely, and in a manner I think Harlen Coben would endorse.
Turn on the Heat is a fairly quick read, fun (as I find all the A.A. Fair novels fun), and works in some hard boiled sounding prose here and there. There's no need to have read other Cool & Lam novels to follow along, but for someone just starting out, I find the later novels a bit lighter and would perhaps make a better starting point (for example, Up for Grabs is a lot of fun, and shows off some of Donald's better tricks).
Read While Walking: The Stranger by Harlen Coben, I thought I would re-read one of the A.A. Fair books that addressed the more classic Harlen Coben scenario where someone disappears then makes a reappearance many years later.
I love the A.A. Fair novels. They feature Erle Stanley Gardner's protagonists Bertha Cool and Donald Lam, private detectives. Turn on the Heat is one of the earlier novels, with Donald not yet a partner in the agency and getting beat up all the time. The book also makes oblique reference to how little Bertha or anyone knows about Donald (in The Bigger they Come Bertha divined that "Lam" was not Donald's real name).
Turn on the Heat has Donald pull a couple of clever tricks, turning the tables on someone who is trying to frame him, and keeps Donald's character closer to the early books, where he holds a grudge and will find a way to get back at those who wrong him. I'm not convinced the end solution resolves the problem for his client beyond election day (he's still a politician who has been in a bigamous marriage for years), but perhaps Donald's frame up of some of the corrupt elements is sufficient to carry things through for him.
The central question of why a person disappeared, and why they chose to reappear now is resolved nicely, and in a manner I think Harlen Coben would endorse.
Turn on the Heat is a fairly quick read, fun (as I find all the A.A. Fair novels fun), and works in some hard boiled sounding prose here and there. There's no need to have read other Cool & Lam novels to follow along, but for someone just starting out, I find the later novels a bit lighter and would perhaps make a better starting point (for example, Up for Grabs is a lot of fun, and shows off some of Donald's better tricks).
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Identical by Scott Turow
I always try books by Scott Turow, since I tend to enjoy legal mysteries. I liked Presumed Innocent, both the novel and the film (I think I saw the film first, though I can't recall for certain) and so pick up his books when I see them.
I didn't think I would enjoy Identical. Based on the back of the book, it looked like one of those highly improbable identical twin mysteries that would have me rolling my eyes. Ultimately, that's not fair to the book. The resolution doesn't depend on identical DNA, and (it appears to me) explains and explores that issue in some detail, as well as discussing the reason for identical twins having different fingerprints.
I kept thinking I had solved the mystery (and tended to be correct), but to my surprise, the various mysteries kept being resolved by the protagonists, and leading to more to discover (though the ultimate conceit is fairly well telegraphed).
A couple of legal issues to be addressed had me thinking I would be upset with an unrealistic and improbable outcome, but (as is consistent in Mr. Turow's novels) the legal arguments seem valid and the legal conclusions seem consistent with the law.
Like most of Mr. Turow's novels, the pacing of Identical can seem slow, based in large part on his use of language to slow things down, and explore diversions. Often there are little pieces of sentences or commentary here or there that are worth pausing to think about.
I can recall being somewhat fascinated when Mr. Turow dealt with Sandy Stern's relationship with his wife, and how he adjusted to her death in Burden of Proof. Identical doesn't place the same degree of focus on that, but one of the characters is still dealing with the death of a spouse, and the other is dealing with the end of a relationship. Both aspects are dealt with in a way that seems important to the characters, and they work at solving the mystery to escape from their personal lives, but also as a way for them to learn more about themselves. I really like the way Scott Turow is able to bring that element into his novels, and it's what keeps me reading him.
The mystery in Identical is okay, though not difficult to solve, and the ending is a bit pat. But the examination of relationships and how to re-evaluate a relationship after a death or break-up is the aspect that will stick with me and will be the reason I remember the novel.
I didn't think I would enjoy Identical. Based on the back of the book, it looked like one of those highly improbable identical twin mysteries that would have me rolling my eyes. Ultimately, that's not fair to the book. The resolution doesn't depend on identical DNA, and (it appears to me) explains and explores that issue in some detail, as well as discussing the reason for identical twins having different fingerprints.
I kept thinking I had solved the mystery (and tended to be correct), but to my surprise, the various mysteries kept being resolved by the protagonists, and leading to more to discover (though the ultimate conceit is fairly well telegraphed).
A couple of legal issues to be addressed had me thinking I would be upset with an unrealistic and improbable outcome, but (as is consistent in Mr. Turow's novels) the legal arguments seem valid and the legal conclusions seem consistent with the law.
Like most of Mr. Turow's novels, the pacing of Identical can seem slow, based in large part on his use of language to slow things down, and explore diversions. Often there are little pieces of sentences or commentary here or there that are worth pausing to think about.
I can recall being somewhat fascinated when Mr. Turow dealt with Sandy Stern's relationship with his wife, and how he adjusted to her death in Burden of Proof. Identical doesn't place the same degree of focus on that, but one of the characters is still dealing with the death of a spouse, and the other is dealing with the end of a relationship. Both aspects are dealt with in a way that seems important to the characters, and they work at solving the mystery to escape from their personal lives, but also as a way for them to learn more about themselves. I really like the way Scott Turow is able to bring that element into his novels, and it's what keeps me reading him.
The mystery in Identical is okay, though not difficult to solve, and the ending is a bit pat. But the examination of relationships and how to re-evaluate a relationship after a death or break-up is the aspect that will stick with me and will be the reason I remember the novel.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Linda Fairstein and too much realism in fiction
I recently posted on Notorious by Allison Brennan
Read While Walking: Notorious by Allison Brennan, and was wanting to draw a parallel to Linda Fairstein's Alex Cooper character (whose name I was having trouble placing.
In looking it up, I learned that Linda Fairstein was actually a real lawyer (which I never would have guessed from her novels alone) and appears to have been partially responsible for a wrongful conviction. (I have to think not all of that appeared on the book jacket under the author picture... but note to self, read book jackets.)
The Alex Cooper involve prosecuting attorneys mixing themselves into the investigations, finding and manipulating the facts rather than sitting back and bringing to trial the cases as brought to them by the police. Not very realistic as I understand court processes, but I sort of liked the throwback to Perry Mason, how he wouldn't sit in his office and wait for clients to come to him, but had to be on the firing line, personally solving the mystery before the case was even brought to trial.
I recognize that's a romanticized view of the practice of criminal law, but sometimes that's what makes fiction fun.
So I'm a little shocked, and a bit disturbed to read that Ms. Fairstein was actually a prosecutor in New York, who (according to the Wikipedia entries) appears to have participated quite actively in the building of cases against potential defendants. I'm going to need to give some thought to how comfortable I am continuing to read books by Ms. Fairstein. What is fun in fiction can sometimes be troubling in reality.
The idea that a prosecutor might picture herself in the role of a romantic, fictional heroine who has to take it upon herself to solve cases because she's the only one smart enough, capable enough and willing enough to do so is not fun and exciting to me, but scary and troubling. It kind of takes the fun out of the fiction for me I think.
I had kind of been off Ms. Fairstein for a while, finding the characters just a little too unrealistic. It's ironic that I'm now off Ms. Fairstein because some of the characters may have been a little too realistic.
Read While Walking: Notorious by Allison Brennan, and was wanting to draw a parallel to Linda Fairstein's Alex Cooper character (whose name I was having trouble placing.
In looking it up, I learned that Linda Fairstein was actually a real lawyer (which I never would have guessed from her novels alone) and appears to have been partially responsible for a wrongful conviction. (I have to think not all of that appeared on the book jacket under the author picture... but note to self, read book jackets.)
The Alex Cooper involve prosecuting attorneys mixing themselves into the investigations, finding and manipulating the facts rather than sitting back and bringing to trial the cases as brought to them by the police. Not very realistic as I understand court processes, but I sort of liked the throwback to Perry Mason, how he wouldn't sit in his office and wait for clients to come to him, but had to be on the firing line, personally solving the mystery before the case was even brought to trial.
I recognize that's a romanticized view of the practice of criminal law, but sometimes that's what makes fiction fun.
So I'm a little shocked, and a bit disturbed to read that Ms. Fairstein was actually a prosecutor in New York, who (according to the Wikipedia entries) appears to have participated quite actively in the building of cases against potential defendants. I'm going to need to give some thought to how comfortable I am continuing to read books by Ms. Fairstein. What is fun in fiction can sometimes be troubling in reality.
The idea that a prosecutor might picture herself in the role of a romantic, fictional heroine who has to take it upon herself to solve cases because she's the only one smart enough, capable enough and willing enough to do so is not fun and exciting to me, but scary and troubling. It kind of takes the fun out of the fiction for me I think.
I had kind of been off Ms. Fairstein for a while, finding the characters just a little too unrealistic. It's ironic that I'm now off Ms. Fairstein because some of the characters may have been a little too realistic.
Notorious by Allison Brennan
Allison Brennan is a new author for me. Notorious is apparently the first novel featuring Max Revere.
Max Revere is an investigative journalist, with a trust fund and her own television show. At the behest of the sister of an old friend, she returns to her high school town for a funeral and to investigate an alleged suicide.
The suicide question is solved and resolved very rapidly, thanks in part to a suicide note the police failed to find. However, it re-opens the question of a murder that took place many years before.
Overall, the novel reminded me quite a bit of Linda Fairstein, and the Alexandra Cooper novels. However, one of the things I really like about the Linda Fairstein novels is that they each showcase an interesting and historical aspect of New York, frequently one that I wasn't aware of before. As such, I can put up with the protagonist being impossibly gorgeous, rich, brilliant and talented because I'm not reading it for the realism of the characters, but for the interest generated in relation to the city and the history.
Hmmmm. That sounded a bit catty. Well. I like to read mystery novels for the characters and character interactions. Purely plot driven mystery holds less interest for me. When characters are so blatantly matters of cardboard wish fulfillment, I get less out of them (says the reader who loves James Bond, Perry Mason and other hardboiled detective novels).
Notorious has as its setting a wealthy town or suburb, which seems fictional in all its respects, and doesn't act as its own character in the novel.
In any event, the plot was okay, and I tend to enjoy mysteries that seek to solve long buried murders. I guessed the villain relatively early on, but overall it was competently written. I'd probably give Allison Brennan another chance, since sometimes first a new character takes some time to establish, but I'm not sure I'd seek out the series in order, and may be more inclined to try a stand-alone novel.
Max Revere is an investigative journalist, with a trust fund and her own television show. At the behest of the sister of an old friend, she returns to her high school town for a funeral and to investigate an alleged suicide.
The suicide question is solved and resolved very rapidly, thanks in part to a suicide note the police failed to find. However, it re-opens the question of a murder that took place many years before.
Overall, the novel reminded me quite a bit of Linda Fairstein, and the Alexandra Cooper novels. However, one of the things I really like about the Linda Fairstein novels is that they each showcase an interesting and historical aspect of New York, frequently one that I wasn't aware of before. As such, I can put up with the protagonist being impossibly gorgeous, rich, brilliant and talented because I'm not reading it for the realism of the characters, but for the interest generated in relation to the city and the history.
Hmmmm. That sounded a bit catty. Well. I like to read mystery novels for the characters and character interactions. Purely plot driven mystery holds less interest for me. When characters are so blatantly matters of cardboard wish fulfillment, I get less out of them (says the reader who loves James Bond, Perry Mason and other hardboiled detective novels).
Notorious has as its setting a wealthy town or suburb, which seems fictional in all its respects, and doesn't act as its own character in the novel.
In any event, the plot was okay, and I tend to enjoy mysteries that seek to solve long buried murders. I guessed the villain relatively early on, but overall it was competently written. I'd probably give Allison Brennan another chance, since sometimes first a new character takes some time to establish, but I'm not sure I'd seek out the series in order, and may be more inclined to try a stand-alone novel.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
The Stranger by Harlen Coben
The Stranger is unusual among the Harlen Coben books. (See, I can avoid saying it's one of the stranger novels because I'm not Myron Bolitar). It's a standalone novel, but doesn't feature Lauren Muse, Cindy Shaker and the others from the New Jersey DA's office. There is actually one rather subtle reference to Myron Bolitar when one of the characters playing basketball is having a great game, and is even able to outplay the former Duke star who wears a knee brace.
Many of Harlen Coben's novels involve a disappearance or a missing person, and some years after the fact there is an indication that the missing person may still be alive. Generally the novel involves solving the mystery of how someone can still be alive, and why there was the period of non-contact.
The Stranger is a missing person story told in a much more conventionally chronological manner. A stranger whispers a secret. The subject of the secret is confronted. The secret seems to go deeper than initially indicated, and then the subject of the secret disappears. All of this usually comes out in the backstory of a Harlen Coben novel, so it's a lot of fun to see him build suspense in a more traditional story telling fashion.
I'm not sure if I would have had as much fun with The Stranger if I wasn't familiar with Mr. Coben's plot patterns. Somehow it made the more conventional tale seem fresh and exciting because it was unexpected from him.
As with many of Mr. Coben's recent novels, The Stranger shifts perspective, at its convenience, into a second-person style of narration, just to bring home that you, the reader, are no different than these specimens of suburbia on display. He goes back to his tagline question of how far you would go to protect your family, and whether we are all Raskalnikov at heart, particularly when it comes to our own children's welfare.
I found that aspect a bit heavy handed, but I liked the analogies about how easy it is to fall into stealing, or cheating a bit here and there. I also liked the slightly more subtle aspects of how sometimes the dream of living in the perfect suburb is suffocating and crushing. More than one character in this book was prepared to seek relief in life insurance proceeds. The concept that providing for your family, and the need to keep up appearances and participate in the community and maintain your children in the school is of such importance that even if it's not achievable financially, it must be done at any cost.
The offhanded, casual way that idea was introduced; that your life insurance policies can maintain the suburban dream for your family, and if all you have to do is die, then it's well worth it, I found to be the most chilling aspect of The Stranger. As a side note, the main character, Adam Price is a lawyer who deals with eminent domain (how to hold onto your house when the government is trying to kick you out). While I think that ties into his character, and the overarching themes of the book about holding on past all reason, I couldn't help but think that it might have been more fitting if the protagonist was an insurance broker.
Many of Harlen Coben's novels involve a disappearance or a missing person, and some years after the fact there is an indication that the missing person may still be alive. Generally the novel involves solving the mystery of how someone can still be alive, and why there was the period of non-contact.
The Stranger is a missing person story told in a much more conventionally chronological manner. A stranger whispers a secret. The subject of the secret is confronted. The secret seems to go deeper than initially indicated, and then the subject of the secret disappears. All of this usually comes out in the backstory of a Harlen Coben novel, so it's a lot of fun to see him build suspense in a more traditional story telling fashion.
I'm not sure if I would have had as much fun with The Stranger if I wasn't familiar with Mr. Coben's plot patterns. Somehow it made the more conventional tale seem fresh and exciting because it was unexpected from him.
As with many of Mr. Coben's recent novels, The Stranger shifts perspective, at its convenience, into a second-person style of narration, just to bring home that you, the reader, are no different than these specimens of suburbia on display. He goes back to his tagline question of how far you would go to protect your family, and whether we are all Raskalnikov at heart, particularly when it comes to our own children's welfare.
I found that aspect a bit heavy handed, but I liked the analogies about how easy it is to fall into stealing, or cheating a bit here and there. I also liked the slightly more subtle aspects of how sometimes the dream of living in the perfect suburb is suffocating and crushing. More than one character in this book was prepared to seek relief in life insurance proceeds. The concept that providing for your family, and the need to keep up appearances and participate in the community and maintain your children in the school is of such importance that even if it's not achievable financially, it must be done at any cost.
The offhanded, casual way that idea was introduced; that your life insurance policies can maintain the suburban dream for your family, and if all you have to do is die, then it's well worth it, I found to be the most chilling aspect of The Stranger. As a side note, the main character, Adam Price is a lawyer who deals with eminent domain (how to hold onto your house when the government is trying to kick you out). While I think that ties into his character, and the overarching themes of the book about holding on past all reason, I couldn't help but think that it might have been more fitting if the protagonist was an insurance broker.
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