Fall Preview 2014: Part Ten

There are too many good books due out this fall for us to tell you about all of them, but let's take a look at the ones I have for today.

The Front Seat Passenger (translated from the French by Jane Aitken; Gallic Books, September 9) will be my first book by the late noir writer Pascal Garnier. It looks like a gem for fans of Patricia Highsmith.

Fabien Delorme returns from Normandy to his home in Paris to discover his wife, Sylvie, and her lover were killed in a car accident. The existence of an affair is a shock to Fabien. He spots the wife of Sylvie's lover, Martine, leaving the morgue and, feeling vengeful, decides he needs to get close to her. Insinuating himself into her life is a little difficult due to the presence of her best friend, Madeleine. This is noir, so I'm betting all of the characters do not have a jolly good time.

John Darnielle's Sean Phillips was severely disfigured in an accident when he was 17 and rarely leaves his southern California home. Sean designed and operates a text-based role-playing game, Trace Italian, set in a future post-apocalyptic America and played through the mail. The reader knows a woman was somehow killed when she obsessively played Trace with her boyfriend. It's no wonder Sean takes steps when two Florida teenagers, Lance and Carrie, decide to play the game in the real world.

Darnielle is the singer-songwriter of the Mountain Goats, and his Wolf in White Van (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, September 16) is saturated in pop culture and shifts around in time.

Marilynne Robinson's books are powerful––yet quiet and moving––meditations on faith and descriptions of life and death in the rural American Midwest. Lila (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, October 7) follows Gilead and Home, continuing the three-generational saga of Congregationalist minister John Ames and his neighbors in tiny Gilead, Iowa.

Lila is a homeless stranger in Gilead when she steps into John's church, seeking shelter from the rain. She returns every Sunday thereafter, and, when he's age 67 in the mid-1950s, the widower John marries her. She begins a new life as wife and mother of their son. In Gilead, we learn about John and his forebears. Lila now tells Lila's story.

Wow, I didn't intend to embark on a reading journey about faith and redemption, but here we are, following the gentle Calvinist Marilynne Robinson with Michel Faber, whose highly anticipated fall novel, The Book of Strange New Things (Crown/Hogarth, October 28), is about a missionary named Peter. USIC, a global corporation, sends Peter to the planet Oasis. The Oasans seem very receptive to Peter, so that isn't the problem. Peter's wife, Bea, lives on Earth, and Bea's letters report an Earth wracked by typhoons and earthquakes. Peter is now torn.

Anyone who read Faber's The Crimson Petal and the White, featuring a 19-year-old prostitute in Victorian London, knows that this writer is impossible to pigeonhole. This latest book should be good.

I have a difficult time passing up novels about the rural American West. Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and early reviewers think very highly of this one. They call Braden Hepner, first-time author of Pale Harvest (Torrey House, distributed by Consortium, September 9), a masterful story-teller with "a starkly poetic voice."

Hepner's Jack Selvedge grew up working on his family dairy farm in Juniper Scrag, Utah. He's now 20, and the farm is a shell of its former self. His dreams for the future change when he takes up with the beautiful Rebekah Rainsford, who's reticent about her past.

While I was researching Jane Smiley's Some Luck (Knopf, October 7), it cracked me up to see Kirkus refer to her A Thousand Acres as "Lear in Iowa." Yep, that's it in a nutshell.

Smiley returns to Iowa with Some Luck, the first book in a planned trilogy. Instead of the raging Larry Cook and his conniving daughters of A Thousand Acres, we have Rosanna and Walter Langdon, a loving couple who live on their Denby farm with five very different children: first-born Frank, animal-lover Jo, sweet Lilian, bookworm Henry, and Claire, her father's favorite. This book covers the 1920s through the early '50s, while the children grow up and leave or stay home on the farm. Later books will take the family into the 21st century. I don't expect Smiley to be overly sweet or sentimental.

I'm always interested in what Urban Waite is writing, because he sets his crime fiction in the Pacific Northwest, where I grew up, and he does a bang-up job with a man on the run.

His Sometimes the Wolf (Morrow, October 21) involves a couple of characters whom we met in Waite's first book, The Terror of Living: Deputy Sheriff Bobby Drake and his dad, Patrick Drake, a former sheriff turned drug smuggler after his wife died and he fell on hard financial times, now out of prison on parole. Bobby's marriage is in poor repair so he only reluctantly offers his dad a place to stay. Bobby is still angry at Patrick and doesn't know whether he can trust him. Washing up from Patrick's past is a threat neither man can ignore. Then there's the wolf, the first one to be seen in these parts for 50 years; Bobby joins efforts to rescue it before it is killed by ranchers worried about their livestock.

All of us have our eccentricities, and one of mine is an interest in sieges. Here's an international best-seller about the 1714 Siege of Barcelona written by the Catalonian anthropologist and writer Albert Sánchez Piñol. Victus: The Fall of Barcelona (translated from the Spanish by Daniel Hahn and Tom Bunstead; Harper/HarperCollins, September 9) is historical fiction illustrated with diagrams, portraits, and maps. According to reviewers, this isn't dry history; Piñol brings the siege to life in this novel.

Upon the death of the Spanish king at the turn of the 18th century, Bourbons and Castilians are warring against Catalonians in the War of the Spanish Succession. Maneuvering like a Machiavelli among them and fighting on both sides is Martí Zuviría, a military engineer and tactician charged with the defense of Barcelona against the Bourbons.

In recent years, Chicago writer Libby Fischer Hellmann has concentrated on non-series crime fiction that explores the effect of strife or revolution on the human spirit. Set the Night on Fire involves present-day multiple murder rooted in Chicago's turbulent late-1960s. A Bitter Veil is a thriller set against the backdrop of the Iranian Revolution. Havana Lost, set in Cuba, Angola, and Chicago, examines what violence has cost the Pacellis, a Chicago Outfit family.

Hellmann's most recent book is the fourth in what one reviewer calls her "medium-boiled" Georgia Davis series, although it can be read as a standalone. Georgia is a former Chicago cop who is now a private detective. In Nobody's Child (The Red Herrings Press, September 2), Georgia discovers she has a half-sister, Savannah, who is caught up in a human trafficking ring led by a very dangerous old enemy.

For a Western take on Homer's Odyssey: Lin Enger's The High Divide (Algonquin, September 23). Reviewers say they love this book. Publishers Weekly calls it "reminiscent of John Ford's classic The Searchers."

One early morning in 1886, Ulysses Pope grabs a chicken, tucks it under his arm, and leaves his family on the western prairie of Minnesota. He hopes to save his soul by coming to terms with his past. His wife, Gretta, and their two young sons, Eli and Danny, have no idea why he's left or where he's gone. Eli and Danny take off after their dad, hopping trains and following clues to Montana. In a while, heading after her sons and Ulysses, Gretta makes it four Popes on the road (well, okay, five, if you count the chicken, assuming Ulysses hasn't eaten it, and its last name is Pope). All right!

That wraps it up for me today. Tomorrow, we'll see what Maltese Condor has to show us.

The Naughty Take Their Lumps

It's a lump of candy cane coal,
not a mouse dropping.

Yesterday, while shopping at Trader Joe's, I came across the perfect holiday gift for someone who's been naughty this year: little pieces of minty candy cane drenched in rich dark chocolate so that it resembles lumps of coal. You may have a person on your shopping list who deserves such a gift. God knows the world of crime fiction is replete with characters for whom such a gift would be appropriate.

Now, I'm not talking about villains so nasty their own mothers, if sensible, would shriek and run at the sight of them: Not Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter of Thomas Harris's Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs or the serial killer of T. Jefferson Parker's The Blue Hour. Not the criminal masterminds Professor Moriarty (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) and the Deaf Man (Ed McBain). Or the psychopathic lawmen of Jim Thompson's The Killer Inside Me and Pop. 1280.

And certainly not the vicious albino hit man Grady Fisher in Urban Waite's The Terror of Living. The word is "naughtiness," not "depravity." Hand the coal to the decent-but-flawed Phil Hunt, who spent 10 years imprisoned for the shotgun killing of a bait-shop owner during a robbery that netted him $40 when he was a young man. He straightened out after prison and married a good woman, but their lives are a constant quiet struggle. To supplement the income they make raising and boarding horses on a small farm in northwest Washington State, Hunt occasionally smuggles illegal drugs by riding one of his horses into the mountains and fetching a package dropped out of an airplane. Hunt should have quit while he was ahead. His last job is interrupted by off-duty deputy sheriff Bobby Drake, who struggles with emotional baggage involving his father, a disgraced ex-sheriff. The novice smuggler accompanying Hunt is caught, and the drugs are lost. Suddenly, Hunt's life, never easy, is made a heck of a lot harder now that he has Drake, the DEA, and Fisher, who's been hired by a drugs kingpin, hot on his trail.

The Terror of Living is Waite's 2011 debut, a book that straddles literary and mystery fiction. If you only read cozies, it's not for you; rather, it's for people who like Cormac McCarthy, Robert Stone, Graham Greene, Dennis Lehane or George Pelecanos. It's about how bad things happen to good people or how good people make bad decisions, setting them on a train going too fast for them to leap to safety. Waite's tale isn't entirely unpredictable, but his characters are eloquent, the setting is beautifully described, and the writing is assured. I look forward to this young writer's books in the years ahead.

Let's now stop gazing ahead and take a look back over our shoulders and across the pond (I have a crick in my neck just writing that), where another man merits a piece of our coal for naughtiness: Margery Allingham's Magersfontein Lugg, sleuth Albert Campion's second banana. Has there ever been a fictional character more aptly named than the lugubrious and vulgar Lugg? A Cockney who was once a cat burglar, Lugg now functions as Campion's loyal manservant, heavy, and expert on England's criminal underworld. Lugg is no better than he has to be. The first book in this Golden Age classic mystery series is The Crime at Black Dudley. In that book, Campion investigates the death of his host at a weekend house party without Lugg's assistance. He meets Lugg in the second book, Mystery Mile, while looking into all the deaths and close calls that occur around Judge Crowdy Lobbett. The most energetic, light-hearted, and creative wordplay in the series is found in More Work for the Undertaker, in which Campion and Lugg become involved with the extremely eccentric and literary Palinode family while searching for a multiple poisoner. The most serious and beautifully atmospheric book is The Tiger in the Smoke, featuring the escaped prisoner, sociopath Jack Havoc. (Allingham is wonderful with names.)

Like Lugg, E. W. Hornung's A. J. Raffles is a talented detective when tracking a man responsible for crimes other than his own. He is England's best cricketer and a sociable gentleman who lives at a prestigious address: The Albany, in Piccadilly. He's patriotic and once sends the Queen a gift. But Raffles receives a lump of coal because he's a daring and cynical thief who steals for the challenge and excitement in addition to the money, which he occasionally gives away. (That gift to the Queen was stolen.) He's a safe cracksman and a master of disguise.

Raffles appears in a novel and more than 20 stories chronicled by his old school friend Bunny Manders. (All of Hornung's short stories featuring Raffles, written from the 1890s to the 1920s, can be found in the 1984 book, The Complete Short Stories of Raffles--the Amateur Cracksman. After Hornung, other writers continued the series.) Bunny loves Raffles and is ambivalent about his criminal career.  Hornung's friend and brother-in-law, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, also didn't entirely approve of anti-hero Raffles. Although these stories exhibit the prejudices of their time, they are classic adventures that are a pleasure to read. You can also search for a play, several films, a radio series, and a British TV series that feature Raffles.

More idealistic and romantic than Raffles is Leslie Charteris's Simon Templar, a dashing figure whose true name is unknown and whose nickname is "The Saint." His calling card, which he leaves at scenes of his activities, features a stick figure with a halo. The Saint earns his coal by operating as "the Robin Hood of Modern Crime" outside the law to right wrongs and avenge innocent victims by stealing, killing, and helping people. He's a master of disguise, a skilled knife thrower, and an expert fighter. Danger is good for you, he says, because it makes you feel intensely alive. The tales are of all sorts: character studies, whodunits, ghost stories, science fiction, or straight adventures. We first meet The Saint, who has barely arrived in the small town of Baycombe on the coast of England before an assassin appears, in the 1928 book Meet the Tiger. Following that first appearance are portrayals in more novels (written from 1967 to the end by people other than Charteris), short stories, radio programs (Vincent Price is the best known Saint), several TV series (Roger Moore became internationally famous in this role), films (George Sanders in the 1930s and 40s), comics, plays, and magazines.

Before heading back to the United States, let's pay a visit to Colin Watson's Miss Lucilla Edith Cavell Teatime, who well deserves her lumps because she's an endearingly genteel criminal who specializes in con games and theft. Miss Teatime appears in Lonelyheart 4122 and all subsequent books in the Flaxborough Chronicles series except Blue Murder. In Lonelyheart 4122, Inspector Purbright investigates the Handclasp House, a matrimonial bureau that may be involved in the disappearance of two women. Purbright runs across Miss Teatime and warns her about the bureau, but she pays no attention. In Just What the Doctor Ordered, three Flaxborough women are attacked by elderly men (one man threatens to "pollinate" one of these women). The men escape from the scene by running sideways in a crab-like fashion. Purbright suspects an herbal elixir for virility. He doesn't know what to suspect in Six Nuns and a Shotgun, because all he has is a telegram about two naked nuns in Philadelphia. In all of these books, the clever and enterprising Miss Teatime is a thorn in Purbright's side. Watson's Flaxborough books are filled with eccentric characters; they are clever and amusing. I highly recommend them.

We'll have to catch Simon Brett's Melita Pargeter, a gentleman crook's widow who often turns her hand to investigations, and Jonathan Gash's shady antiques dealer, Lovejoy, later. Let's return to the States, where our next coal recipient is Donald E. Westlake's John Dortmunder, a determined and good-hearted man who has no pretensions to a life outside of crime. Dortmunder isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, however, so the plots he masterminds are invariably foiled by his scruples, his inept colleagues, or plain rotten luck. There are fifteen books in this entertaining series, which opens with the newly paroled Dortmunder's attempt to steal the Balabomo emerald in 1970's The Hot Rock. These books feature masterful plotting, great small-time crooks' lingo, fine suspense, twists and turns, and a delicious sense of irony. I enjoyed all of them. Here are a couple: Bank Shot, in which the bank is in a mobile home, so stealing the money means stealing the bank; What's the Worst that Could Happen? features the theft of Dortmunder's lucky ring by a well-to-do businessman, so Dortmunder assembles a team to seek revenge; Bad News involves the taking over of an Indian gambling casino. For a list of the books in the series, see Westlake's page on Stop You're Killing Me.

We could drop off coal to John D. MacDonald's adventurer Travis McGee, but that will take a separate trip. Instead, we'll make a quick visit to Bernie Rhodenbarr, Lawrence Block's genial New York City burglar. The first book in the series is Burglars Can't be Choosers, in which Rhodenbarr is caught burgling an apartment. He pays off the cops, but then things change when they find a body, and Rhodenbarr has to run. Among good books in this series are The Burglar Who Painted Like Mondrian (Bernie's friend Carolyn's cat is kidnapped, and a Mondrian painting might be the ransom) and The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams (Bernie has opened a used bookstore in an attempt to go straight. When his landlord's demands return him to a life of crime, a dead body in the apartment he's burglarizing and a frame job involving a stolen baseball card collection give him a headache).

Our coal all delivered to its worthy recipients, let's relax with some Speculoos Wafers (from a Washington Post recipe based on a thin, spiced French cookie) and some strong coffee. While we're relaxing, we can talk about other characters who require our coal and the gifts we're going to give those who are nice.