Magic.

Magic. Pure magic.

A few themes were gleaned within the pages of Spoonbenders. Magic tricks come with a cost. True magic is often times pure luck. Case in point. Daryl Gregory shows that plot can outweigh craft as there is no special legerdemain present with his phrasing, his descriptions. But the story? The characters? Magic.

Spoonbenders follows the Amazing Telemachus Family, a one-time TV sensation of psychics and con artists who are now all older, sadder, and defeated. Irene, the eldest, is a single mother in a dead-end job. Frankie, who is always looking for the Next Big Thing, owes money everywhere, including the mob. Buddy is a clairvoyant basket case. Mattie, a teen barely coming into his own. And Teddy, the patriarch, who might be pulling one last confidence game in hopes to save everyone.

Gregory wisely turns away from setting up yet another X-Men style situation of freaks banding together outside of society in order to save it. Instead, he focuses on the normalcy, the relevancy, of the family dynamic and all its wonders: puberty, unemployment, sickness, marriage, failed dreams. He asks how can fame, something that was once briefly tasted, be regained? He sets up a ticking clock and a countdown to one glorious dénouement of card sharking, astral projection and, perhaps, with some luck, a little spoonbending as the reader is treated to a story full of amazement and wonder. And why not? Magic.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Knoff for this entertaining, magical read.


As Always,
theJOE

Compelling Mystery; Cliché Drama

Initially reading through Everything I Never Told You, those other players in the American family drama genre game come to mind. And not those pseudo-comedic slices of live stories that Parenthood and Grand Canyon were so fantastic at portraying, rather, something much more Americana – the family tragedy. Like Ordinary People, or American Beauty to be slightly more contemporary, where the family bond is decapitated by one destroying event.

The event within Celeste Ng’s book is the death of teenager Lydia Lee. Ng unfolds the mystery surrounding such – was her death a murder, a suicide, or simply a terrible accident – while revealing  the secrets, both personal and, more often than not, trite, of the entire Lee family. The Lees, a typical Chinese-American family living in Ohio in the late 1970s you see, are not so typical, as Ng presses to expand upon. And she mostly succeeds.

Those initial genre reactions degrade as the Lees, it is realized, are typical. They run through the same fears and desires and stresses of every other family, albeit without ready access to SSRIs. That normality that has been promoted to the super-normal becomes super-annoying as the novel digresses into a downward spiral of complaining, whining, and ungratefulness. James, the patriarch and provider, is stuck in a standard job. Marilyn, the Anglo-wife, who dreams of being more than a mom. The siblings, all three of them, are normal, and boring, and ignored, and invisible. Everything I Never Told You, builds on the compelling mystery of Lydia’s death on top of all the clichés of a standard drama yet is providential enough not to collapse.

Perhaps the most surprising theme uncovered is that Ng almost wants this mixed-marriage to fail. As if this novel were a thesis on how inter-racial marriages cannot, and maybe should not, succeed – a theme that when using a 21st Century vantage is most absurd. To her credit, however, she does emphasis the difficulties such a family dynamic would present, especially in 1970s Ohio.

Ng has a pleasant, accepting writing style and plots the story with a progressive pace aptly exploring each personality. Unfortunately, the deeper those characters become, the more vexing they are revealed to be and the easier to ultimately forget. The emphasis of a family tragedy is to grieve when these characters befall a certain fate. Otherwise, all you get is Hamlet. Everything I Never Told You is more akin to a sigh of relief.


As Always,
theJOE

May Da Force Be With You!

Aside from being a Don Winslow fan and looking forward to reading his latest, having a cover blurb from Stephen King, the grandmaster of all, likening the book to The Godfather, well, that was one helluva an endorsement. And folks, Uncle Stevie’s assessment ain’t wrong.

Winslow’s The Force, set in a present day, post 9/11 NYC, is an in-your-face lesson of the realities of life and politics in the Big Apple so vivid you can smell the garbage. And if anything, The Force has a lot of it, including, at times, the book’s protagonists. Winslow, by way of Manhattan North Special Task Force lead Det. Sgt. Denny Malone, plays host and opens a tour of Harlem - the eateries, the theaters, and also the projects, crack houses, safe houses, hospitals, and precincts - all through a clipped, narrative slang that would make Raymond Chandler proud were he alive and reading in the 21st Century.

The Force, consisting of NYPD blue bloods Malone, Russo, and Montague, play kings of their kingdom. Tolerated by those they seek to protect, hated by the skells they are up against. They rule by fear, by strength, and sometimes are even in alignment with the law. They seek power by taking power, as well as few token items as spoils of war, being victors and all that. Yet they are brothers. Family men. Lovers, and jesters. They want to do right for their kids and succeed enough to shower off the filth of the day. But things go wrong and kings often become conquered. Think The Shield but East Coast style.

Winslow does more than simply present another tale of cops gone bad. He tells how. He tells why. And he even attempts to provide justification, albeit through the Hollywood convenience of showing others as more reprehensible than those of the hero cops. The Force does question the blatant lack of values, demanding a return to uphold a higher honor in truth and justice. A theme that Winslow sidesteps, proclaiming instead that the end justifies the means. Except it often doesn’t. In life anyway. In Winslow’s New York? Being a bad ass with a shield of gold and fists of tempered steel? Might just be the coolest cat this side of Vic Mackey.


As Always,
theJOE