Category Archives: Reviews

‘Judgment Cometh (And That Right Soon),’ by Scott Pratt

Judgment Cometh

It wasn’t until I’d finished Judgment Cometh (and That Right Soon) by Scott Pratt that I realized I’d read a previous book in this series. That was An Innocent Client, which introduced the continuing character of lawyer Joe Dillard of Tennessee. I clearly remember composing a review, but if it was ever posted, it’s disappeared altogether from the internet.

In this eighth installment, defense lawyer Joe Dillard takes the job of defending a young man accused of the murder of four judges. He was stopped for driving drunk, and a pair of coolers containing the disarticulated and frozen body parts of the latest victim were found in the back of his pickup. Joe believes the man innocent, and gets the case thrown out.

But that’s not enough for Joe. The real killer is out there, and is very bad news, so Joe starts looking for him himself. He uncovers a pair of the most monstrous murderers he’s ever encountered.

This is a compelling story, and Scott Pratt is a good author. He gives us interesting characters, good writing, and sharp dialogue. Joe’s dealings with his wife (who has been battling cancer) are presented with insight and empathy. His attitude toward religion, which comes up more than once, is hard to gauge – which is probably a good approach.

I disliked some elements of the first Joe Dillard mystery, and read no more. But I’ve picked the series up again with Book Number Two, which I’ll review soon. Scott Pratt has earned another chance with me. He’s good at what he does.

Cautions for language and intense cruelty and violence, though it isn’t overly graphic in presentation.

‘A View to Die For,’ by Richard Houston

A View to Die For

I was looking for something a little less intense than the books I’ve been reading recently, and A View to Die For, by Richard Houston, seemed to fit the bill. And it did, more or less. It was an amiable little mystery. A little too amiable, perhaps.

Jacob Martin is a recently divorced Coloradan, who lost his job in computer programming and has been getting with handyman work. When his mother calls and tells him his sister has been arrested for the murder of her husband, he sets out home for Missouri to help out, along with his golden retriever, Fred. His sister is a promising suspect, as her two previous husbands have both died suddenly. She is sure Jacob can help, because he always used to figure out the murderer when they used to watch “Murder, She Wrote”(!).

The story kept me reading to the end, but it seemed a little loose and meandering. The writing was generally OK, though artless, but occasionally words were misused (such as “prolong” for “postpone”).

There are a couple sequels out there, but A View to Die For didn’t grab me enough to persuade me to download them. Your mileage may vary. Cautions for adult themes and language.

‘The Viking Spirit,’ by Daniel McCoy

The Viking Spirit

For that matter, these two poles [of friendly and hostile magic] were often two sides of the same coin; to help one person often meant to harm another. This was especially the case for the Vikings, who believed in an “economy of fortune:” there was a fixed amount of luck in the world, and when one person’s luck changed for the better, someone else’s luck must have changed for the worse.

A Facebook friend asked me about this book, and I was embarrassed to say I’d never heard of it. So I acquired The Viking Spirit, by Daniel McCoy, and read it. I was impressed.

Kevin Crossley-Holland’s The Norse Myths has long been a standard introduction to the subject, and it remains valuable, but I think The Viking Spirit might supersede it. The book is divided into two sections – first an overview of the sources, scholarly views of those sources, and the nature of the Norse world view. The second section provides short synopses of the myths that have been preserved to us. The author attempts to strip them down to something like their “original” essences, while making it clear that much has been lost, that it’s possible to have more than one “original” version, and that our critical editing is necessarily a matter of guesswork.

My chief fear when I started the book was that it would be full of New Agey spiritual fluff, but nothing could be further from the case. Author McCoy is very hard-headed about his scholarship. He makes some fresh contributions that will be surprising even to old Viking buffs – for instance his view that the Norsemen did not see history as a cyclical phenomenon, but as linear. That contradicts a lot of 20th Century scholarship, but he makes a good case.

I caught McCoy in a few small errors, I thought, especially in his descriptions of Viking life. But I’d be hesitant to challenge him, because he clearly knows his stuff (and I’ve been known to be wrong).

If you’re interested in Norse mythology, I highly recommend The Viking Spirit. Not for young kids, if you want to shield them from some of the earthier facts of life.

Imminent Islam

I have a vague idea I may have written on this subject here before. But the scenario looks even more likely to me today than it did then (whenever that was).

I consider it highly probable that the mainline Protestant churches will convert, en masse, to Islam. Very likely within my lifetime.

Here’s my reasoning. Continue reading Imminent Islam

‘Murder Upstream,’ by Mark Hazard

Murder Upstream

If you think a book is well written, but it still didn’t work for you, do you give it a positive or negative review?

I guess I’ll go negative, because I’m a small, vindictive man. But I’ll be honest about my reasons, so you can make adjustments for that.

Murder Upstream is set in a small fictional city called Harding. The rich people live upstream, on the high ground, and the poor people live downstream, where it’s flooding right now, after a period of heavy rains. A beautiful young woman, heir to one of the city’s top real estate developers, is found bludgeoned to death outside her family home. Detective Kyle Villante is sent to investigate, getting assistance from Det. Solomon Aduwo, on loan from the state police. Their investigation pokes into social tensions, environmental concerns, and local organized crime (with which Kyle has connections thanks to prolonged work as an undercover officer).

Murder Upstream was competently plotted and well written (though there were too many typographical errors). My only real objection was that I didn’t care much for the hero. Kyle Villante is metrosexual in his personal grooming, arrogant in his musical tastes, promiscuous in his sexual habits, and inclined to cut legal corners on the job. In real life, I think, a guy like this wouldn’t last long on an honest force, even if his motives were good.

I should mention in his defense, though, that the author inserted one or two of what I’d call “moments of grace,” where he showed real compassion and human empathy. But – for a stuffy moralist like me – it just wasn’t enough. Your mileage may… you know.

Cautions for language, violence, and sexual situations.

‘Mortom,’ by Erik Therme

Here’s a weird book. Mortom by Erik Therme shows signs of promise, but I found it ultimately disappointing.

Andy Crowl is kind of obsessive-compulsive about puzzles. So he’s hopelessly hooked when his cousin Craig, whom he didn’t even know all that well, died and left him his house, complete with a mystery. The house, in a tiny town called Mortom, isn’t worth much, and it looks as if Craig’s debts and the house value will just about balance each other out.

But Craig leaves a clue behind – a gruesome one. Under the refrigerator Andy finds a decomposing rat, and in the rat’s mouth are a note and a locker key. This starts him on a quest for a series of obscure clues, impelled by his cousin’s promise that there’s a prize at the end – and a penalty if he should fail the test. Andy’s sister has come with him to help him close out the estate, but she isn’t enthusiastic about the treasure hunt.

I finished the book, so I’ll give it credit for keeping me interested. But overall I found it kind of disappointing. The plot is improbable, and the characters aren’t very well developed – their words and actions don’t always seem plausible. Andy is kind of a jerk, and doesn’t learn any lessons. And I found the final resolution, personally, unsatisfying.

I’ve read worse, and abandoned worse than that. But I don’t really recommend Mortom. Cautions for language.

‘Thread of Danger,’ by Jeff Shelby

Thread of Danger

I was almost surprised there was a new installment in Jeff Shelby’s Thread series. Thread of Danger is a well done, exciting book, though it seems to me the series is looking to find a new direction.

Years ago, Joe Tyler’s daughter Elizabeth was kidnapped. He left his job as a Coronado, California policeman and devoted himself to hunting for her, financing his existence by searching for other missing children as well. He succeeded well (except, for a long time, with his own daughter), but his marriage fell apart.

Over the course of several books, he finally located Elizabeth, and managed to bring her home and reestablish a relationship. Now he’s adrift in life, not looking for work, caring about little except his daughter, who – he can hardly bear to think about it – will be going to college soon.

So he gives in when she asks him to help him look for her boyfriend. The boy went camping in the mountains with a friend, and now the friend says he’s disappeared. Without enthusiasm, Joe drives to the camp site and starts searching with the two young people – and soon discovers something that puts them all in imminent peril.

Thread of Danger is a well done novel, like all Jeff Shelby’s books. Joe’s scenes with Elizabeth are especially memorable and poignant. But Shelby is either going to have to find a new direction for the series, or leave his characters in peace. A new character who appears in this installment may provide a way for him to do that.

I recommend Thread of Danger (though you ought to read the series in sequence. Don’t start with this one). Very little objectionable content.

‘Mine,’ by Brett Battles

Mine

I’m fond of Brett Battles’ Jonathan Quinn novels, so I bought Mine. It wasn’t what I expected – I think of Battles as a thriller writer. But this is a science fiction/coming of age story. Nevertheless, I read it to the end and enjoyed it.

One night years ago, seven teenagers took an illicit forest hike, away from their summer camp. Only three came back, and they were changed. Joel and Leah were suddenly off-the-charts intelligent, sucking up knowledge like vacuum cleaners. They also became stronger and faster than normal people. The third camper, Mike – well, he adjusted less well than the others, who made efforts to disguise their unusual gifts. Each of them forgot most of the events of that awful night, even one another’s names.

But Leah, now a young woman, discovers a clue, which leads her, eventually, to Joel. But Joel doesn’t want to remember what happened. He wants to drop out of sight and live in obscurity. They gradually realize, however, that they’re not alone in their own heads – someone or something is using them. And they finally agree that the only way to get their freedom is to return to the place where it all started.

Mine was tightly written, well charactered, and compelling. I recommend it. I don’t recall much in the way of objectionable material.

My only quibble is an epilogue the author felt it necessary to include. Such epilogues show up again and again in SF stories, and they’re all the same and totally predictable. I wish he’d done something else.

But that’s a small thing.

Video review: ‘The Last Kingdom’

The Last Kingdom
Note the back scabbard. Also the inauthentic two-handed grip on the sword.

Someone on Facebook told me The Last Kingdom, the BBC TV adaptation of Bernard Cornwell’s series of novels about the days of Alfred the Great, was really good. So I watched one episode. Then someone else on Facebook said that it was all right, but Cornwell’s antipathy toward the Christian church was implicit throughout. So I decided I wouldn’t watch any more.

But that won’t stop me reviewing what I saw.

First of all, it seemed to me superior, from a historical perspective, to the execrable Vikings series on the History Channel. Cornwell is a serious historical novelist, and so the story bears some recognizable resemblance to real events and conditions. The picture of the Danes in England follows reality to an extent.

I was mostly troubled by the design of the production – the kind of muddy look that is so characteristic of the Vikings series. Everybody dresses dull, in browns and grays. In fact, the Vikings (as well as the Anglo-Saxons) loved bright colors, and chose them whenever they could afford them.

And the armor. Mostly leather armor, and helmets that seem inspired by real Viking stuff, but are oddly… vestigial. As if manufactured for Wal Mart. Where are the bright corselets, the gilded shields, the boar-crested helms of Beowulf (a roughly contemporary poem)?

And back scabbards. I am so sick of back scabbards. The Vikings didn’t use them, the English didn’t use them. The only way to make a back scabbard work is to strap it real tight, so it doesn’t shift around, and that will chafe you very efficiently after a few hours’ march, believe you me.

The Danes’ hall wasn’t bad, except for the upper gallery, which has no archaeological warrant. But I could forgive that, I guess.

Still, all and all, The Last Kingdom wasn’t appealing enough to persuade me to endure the ecclesiophobia of the overall production.

‘The Officers’ Club,’ by Ralph Peters

The Officers' Club

I could have listed a hundred things I liked about her and valued in her. But I knew I would never love her. The Newtonian universe doesn’t seek justice, only equilibrium.

I’ve come to admire Ralph Peters as a top-flight novelist, but I’m just too shell-shocked, after reading Hell to Richmond (reviewed down the page), to try another of his big Civil War novels. So I thought I’d try a smaller book, The Officers’ Club. This is another fine story, but it left me with questions.

Lt. Roy Banks is an officer with Military Intelligence in 1981. But he’s not exactly in the center of the action. He’s drafting training exercises at Fort Huachaca, Arizona. This is the end of the Carter era, and the country’s malaise is even worse in the Army. Bored, undertrained, and undersupplied soldiers fake their work, and party hard after hours. Roy is part of a small group wryly called “The Officer’s Club,” an alternative to the bland pleasures of the real facility on base. They like to run down to Mexico, drink themselves sick, have lots of sex, and sometimes do some drugs. Worse things go on too, but Roy tries to keep clear of that. He’s also having an affair with a married female fellow officer.

Then Jessie Lamoureaux is murdered. There’s no shortage of suspects. Beautiful, seductive, and devious, Lt. Lamoureaux worked her way through most of the males in Roy’s circle – except for Roy himself. For some reason he found her repellant.

Very little of this book is devoted to the mystery of Jessie’s murder. Most of it traces the course of events that led up to the crime. The plot reminded me of nothing so much as one of those cable miniseries where soap opera combines with sex and violence. However, Peters’ writing is on a much higher plane. Aside from his elegant prose, he creates well-rounded characters who (in many cases) surprise you.

I’m not sure I entirely understood The Officers’ Club. I think there’s a metanarrative here, related to conditions in the Carter era, that I never quite grasped. And a couple plot details never got resolved – I wonder if the answers were hidden and I just missed them.

I should caution you that the voice of morality in this book is a sympathetic homosexual record store owner whom Roy befriends. And one of the few cardboard characters is a born-again Christian (this is a little surprising, coming from the author who created the Abel Jones novels).

But I still enjoyed The Officers’ Club immensely, and got entirely caught up in it. Recommended, if you don’t mind a lot of profanity, sex, and a certain amount of violence.