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The Deep

May 17, 2013 by

BY EDWARD WEINMAN

Move over, Björk. With the blockbuster 2 Guns (Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg) set to explode across U.S. multiplexes this summer, renegade filmmaker Baltasar Kormakur (Contraband) is about to become Iceland’s most popular cultural export. But first, the man once called the “Mayor of Reykjavik” has just released The Deep, an intimate, Icelandic film exploring survival, miracles and the perilous life of fishermen.

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What constitutes a miracle?

This question runs through Icelandic director Baltasar Kormakur’s most recent film, The Deep, which chronicles the life of Gulli (played pitch perfectly by Olafur Darri Olafsson), a simple man who survives a night in the frigid North Atlantic Ocean after his ship sinks.

The Deep is based on the true story of the trawler Breki that capsized in 1984 off the coast of Iceland’s Westman Islands. Doctors speculated that Gulli, the lone survivor, stayed alive because he was, metaphorically, part seal due to his rotund frame being insulated by a remarkable amount of body fat. An object of fascination to Icelanders, Gulli quickly became a national icon and the subject of intense scientific investigation into why he didn’t die.

In a nation where the economy is tied so heavily to the fishing industry, Gulli’s miraculous story still resonates, even more so now that the country has been forced to redefine its cultural identity since the banking and finance industries precipitated Iceland’s economic collapse in 2008.

“Bankers are not our heroes. They didn’t give birth to our nation. Our fathers and grandfathers aren’t businessmen,” said Kormakur, currently in Los Angeles wrapping up post production on the blockbuster film 2 Guns.

“Our true heroes wear fishing gear and raincoats.”

Observing his country transform from one rooted in the blue collar fishing industry to one dominated by runaway capitalism, Kormakur “felt we had lost our way, so I wanted to make a movie that reminded us of who we are.”

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Blog, Other People's Books

JUNKIE LOVE by Joe Clifford

May 1, 2013 by

BY RO CUZON

In a spoon, mix some On the Road with a drop of vinegar and a squirt of water. Bring to a boil and let it cool, then add just the right amount of Catcher in the Rye. Suction through the balled up cotton of a cigarette Pulp/Noir filter. Find a vein. Inject and wait for the rush.

Junkie Love, Joe Clifford’s second novel (his third book if you include his great short-story collection Choice Cuts) is as raw and candid a story as you’ll ever experience. It’s a gritty literary memoir that reads like the fiction of a James M. Cain or Jim Thompson and will take you on a visceral trip down the darkest alleys of drug addiction.

Early in the novel, Joe wonders “how a good-looking, lapsed Catholic from Connecticut turned into a no-good, thieving junkie, homeless on the streets of San Francisco.” Junkie Love is, at least in part, the author’s attempt to answer that question. At this stage in the story, however, one of the explanations Joe offers us is that he may have read too many books. 

There aren’t many possibilities left for true adventure in our world today for a rebellious young man stuck in a small town, his mind ablaze with the stories of Conrad, Melville, and the spirit of the Beats, his dreams pulsing to a rock & roll soundtrack. There are no more riverboats languidly wheel-paddling up and down the Mississippi River, and hopping freight trains across America just doesn’t have the same romantic appeal it once had before the Interstate Highway System. In theory, one can still embark on a ship across the oceans, though it is hard to imagine anything more boring that being stuck on one of these storm-proof, container-laden supertankers for weeks on end with a foreign crew.

This, I believe, is one of the numerous reasons why the world of drugs can appear so seductive to many young people. Dark and dangerous, but still romantic—at least in an 18th Century Romanticism sense—drugs represent one of the last, readily accessible roads away from conformity and a square, boring life. For kids who may not fit in with the mainstream and polite society, kids who feel they are different, special even, drugs are the ultimate fuck you.

And they make you high.

They are of course also a trap.

Some, the lucky ones, will realize this and pull back in time. For others, it will be too late.

Joe Clifford belongs to the latter group, a young man who went to San Francisco with rock & roll dreams of making it as a musician, only to end up living on the streets, swallowed whole by a spiraling addiction to methamphetamines then heroin. Committing crimes to feed his habit, he ends up betraying and breaking the heart of everyone who ever loved him, as junkies are wont to do.

Very few people make it out of that world; fewer still end up creating art out of their experiences. Poignant, horrific, and at times uproariously funny, Junkie Love is not only a journey through hell and back but also a story of redemption and hope.

One must be careful not to glorify an addict’s ‘war stories’, Joe points out somewhere in the book. This is very true, for any junkie’s suffering is, at least originally, self-inflicted.

The fact remains that, in a roundabout, twisted, painful way ten years in the making, Joe Clifford may have achieved what he set out to do when he first hit the highway in search of adventure. “The best teacher is experience,” writes Jack Kerouac in On the Road. Joe Clifford embarked on a wild perilous trip, pushed his luck as far as it would go and almost didn’t make it back. But he did, and in the process found his identity and his own unique voice, creating music not out of notes but out of words.

Go west, young man, go west. It amazes me that Joe and I both headed that call the same year, in 1991. He was twenty-one at the time, I was twenty-two. He came from Connecticut and I from France, but we both ended up in the same place, physically and metaphorically. Although we never met back then, we lived in the same San Francisco neighborhood, and, to be sure, frequented some of the same places and characters.

Two decades later, we are both published writers. We both have families of our own.

Sometimes, real-life Noir stories have happy endings.

Ro Cuzon is the author of the Adel Destin crime series, including the critically acclaimed Under the Dixie Moon and Under the Carib Sun. Hailed by George Pelecanos, Sean Chercover, Laura Lippman, and James Sallis as a writer to watch, Ro’s novels are all available here at the Rogue Reader and at ebook retailers everywhere. 

 

 

 


Blog, Other People's Books

The Demonologist by Andrew Pyper

April 29, 2013 by

BY JIMMY FARRELL.

A demon puts on a scavenger hunt for a university professor, and the prize for winning is the chance to bring his daughter back from purgatory.

The one-sentence summary of Andrew Pyper’s latest novel, The Demonologist (Simon & Schuster: 304 pp., $25), doesn’t do it justice. The narrative of this Canadian native’s latest delves much deeper than one might expect from a such a high-concept thriller, and Pyper delivers an emotionally-charged, high-energy, spine-tingling story that brings you right into the mind of a skeptic faced with an unsettling truth.

Professor David Ullman, the novel’s well-educated and chronically-morose protagonist, is an odd combination of ardent atheist and scholar of biblical texts, and an enthusiast of John Milton’s Paradise Lost. When a disturbingly thin woman approaches David with an invitation to spend an all-expenses-paid weekend in Venice, he is unable to decline the generous offer. Taking his daughter Tess on the Italian excursion, he leaves her with a nanny one afternoon so that he can uphold his end of the bargain and witness whatever happening he was brought here to view.

The phenomenon – a man in a dark room, chained to a chair, with an unnatural voice and speaking of future events – horrifies David and begins immediately to corrupt his atheist beliefs. Back at his hotel and eager to return to his New York City home, David loses his daughter for a moment, only to find her on the roof of the hotel, standing on  its ledge and speaking in the same unnatural voice as the man in the dark room. Just before Tess’s possessed body plummets into the Venice canal, David hears Tess’s real voice utter, find me.

The experience leaves David broken and hollow, yet determined to carry through with his daughter’s request. Armed only with a video recording he made of the man in the dark room, his mastery of the mythology of Paradise Lost, and the conviction his daughter must still be alive, David tries to interpret the signs that have begun to pop up around him–signs that suggest there are more things in heaven and earth than he had dreamed of his philosophy, signs he hopes will lead to his daughter’s safe return.

David’s journey, like Milton’s hero’s, proves circuitous and difficult, and he’s without a kind guide to show him the way to hell and back. Instead, he stumbles forward into a paranoid-filled road trip across the U.S. in which he attempts to escape the forces pursuing him, and pursue the forces that have escaped with the thing in life he loved most. Along his journey, David comes across haunting examples of the demon’s handiwork, and with the help (and occasional ridicule) of his close friend, Elaine O’Brien, he tries to find place these strange encounters inside the larger puzzle, in order to understand what the demon wants–and why it wanted Tess.

The Demonologist is filled to the brim with disturbing images, exhilarating danger, and a provocative sense of the numinous. But where Andrew Pyper really excels is in his ability to convey the thoughts and feelings swirling around in the mind of his hero. Balancing bullet-fast pacing with internal struggle, Pyper gives us a thriller that’s as cerebral as it is muscular. David’s constant melancholy–his loving an unobtainable woman, experiencing an event that puts his entire belief system into question, being instantly driven into a state of urgency at the thought of saving Tess–somehow doesn’t spiral into indulgence, but instead raises the stakes even higher. (Pyper himself addresses this tactic in his recent piece in the Wall Street Journal.)

Pyper’s novel might be properly categorized not as suspense, but as horror, a genre that has proven again and again–from Poe to James to King to Cronin–that it can marry plot with a prose that reaches a higher literary register. With The Demonologist, Pyper has won himself a place on that list.

Despite its lovely prose and thoughtful execution, we offer a word of caution before you dive headfirst into Pyper’s latest: don’t plan on getting a good night’s sleep. Between your desperate attempt to finish it in one sitting and the novel’s abundance of absolutely frightening passages, you’ll be searching for sleep as desperately as Pyper’s hero searches for answers. And it will be just as difficult to find.


Other People's Books

The Dead of Summer

April 5, 2013 by

BY EDWARD WEINMAN

During the Scandinavian winters, the cold creeps into your bones. The sky is gray like a bullet. And snow dumps continuously, turning ashen as exhaust spews from cars and buses.

Winter’s attributes mark the perfect setting for Scando crime novels, where killers are on the loose, hiding out in the murky darkness of an urban cityscape. This bleak, mysterious setting is brilliantly turned on its head in The Dead of Summer, the fifth novel in Mari Jungstedt’s Gotland series, featuring detective superintendent Anders Knutas. In The Dead of Summer, Jungstedt once again sequesters her readers on Gotland and other Swedish islands located in the Baltic Sea–but this time during the height of summer.

Whatever the weather, islands are the ideal location for Jungstedt’s crime thrillers: tension rises when detectives Knutas and his protégé Dead of SummerKarin Jacobsson, meddling TV journalist Johan Berg and his photographer Pia, and we the readers are trapped in a claustrophobic space with an unknown killer, our only escape the odd ferry.

The Dead of Summer begins with the murder of a vacationing father on the beach, a summer idyll gone awry. In a city like Stockholm, the suspect could be anywhere in the city’s denseness, hiding out in alleys, underpasses or tenements rising high into the burlap sky. But on Gotland–or in this case Fårö, where the murder takes place–the perp is someone from the tented campsite where Peter Bovide was vacationing with his wife and small children.

In another twist, Jungstedt launches her novel without her protagonist. The murder occurs while detective Knutas is off island taking a much-deserved vacation, which means Jacobsson must handle the investigation on her own. But ever the workaholic, Knutas can’t stay away for long, and his return is met with mixed emotions by Jacobsson: she is glad to have him back, but frustrated not to sleuth out the suspects all on her own.

Jungstedt’s taut prose is gloriously deceptive. The Dead of Summer is not a fast-moving thriller, but the author’s storytelling delves briskly into her characters’ personal lives, a much-welcomed break from so many Scando crime novels that read too much like a screenplay–all action and zero interior motivations.

Without overloading the novel with action-packed set pieces, Jungstedt provides readers with enough bullet-torn corpses and mystery to keep us turning the pages. Eventually those pages lead lead to the docking of a Russian ship, and a second murder that sends Knutas and Jacobsson scurrying to find the missing link between the two deaths.

All month long, we’re celebrating the great books coming out of the upstart digital publisher Stockholm Text. And we’re pairing their best with ours. Right now, you can grab Mari Jungstedt’s latest novel Killer’s Art in a bundle with Edward Weinman’s debut Icelandic thriller The Ring Road.  Buy them both with one click below, and be transported to the chilly criminal landscapes imagined by two accomplished authors.

“Killer’s Art + The Ring Road” by Mari Jungstedt + Edward Weinman on Ganxy


Other People's Books

Roger Hobbs’ debut: Ghostman

March 7, 2013 by

R0213-ghostman-roger-hobbsoger Hobbs stunning debut thriller Ghostman is the story of five epic heists, four happening concurrently, between the sun-baked concrete and sticky waters of Atlantic City, and one occurring in a past that won’t stay gone. The full fist of heists are connected in ways apparent and hidden, and the consequences of each layer on top of each other to form a richly imbricated story world of crime and conscience. The novel itself is sheer pleasure, with Hobbs delivering details of armored trucks, guns, getaway cars with an easy expertise. Violent without being gratuitous, set in a character-rich world of high-stakes thievery, the novel employs the standard tropes of heist fiction to great effect. The valuable Macguffin. The thugs and goonies as expendable as the cars. The Nameless Hero with a hidden past and a brilliant, unquiet mind (he sometimes goes by the name of Jack, but if you think that’s really his name, he’s fooled you already). The ticking time bomb that injects urgency into every minute (in this book, it’s literal: the money will explode if not found in a day and a half, and the countdown begins by page five). In the hands of lesser writers, these devices would seem familiar and perhaps uninspired. But Hobbs is not a lesser writer (see Heist #5).

Heist #1: The Inciting Incident

In Hobbs’ explosive first chapter, two thugs lie in wait in a casino parking garage, counting down the nervous early-morning minutes before their target arrives–an armored truck scheduled to drop a platter of cash before the casino’s opening. It’s an operation that should have been simple–if not easy: a 40 second flurry of guns and blood, followed by a dash of heavy feet, a squeal of tires, and a sprint to the hideout with a federal payload. Its the kind of operation the distant and diabolically brilliant heistmaster Marcus once excelled at. But unlike a typical Marcus heist, it’s the kind of heist that was doomed from the start. A lone gunman watched the burglary from the back of the garage, his rifle aimed at the gunmen waiting for the armored car. Before the half-minute heist is done, one of the theives is dead, the other mortally wounded. Who the gunman was, how they knew, and what they want–these are why Marcus calls Ghostman out of hiding and back into action. That, and he’s got to get his money back, which is currently in the car of a dying thief hiding somewhere in New Jersey, waiting to blow up.

Heist #2: The Botched Job

That call wasn’t the first Ghostman had received from Marcus. A few years before the book begins Marcus tapped Ghostman to be part of an elite team that would target a high security bank, stealing millions in one of the most daring and inventive heists in bank-breaking history. Two days before zero hour, Ghostman makes the smallest of errors, setting into motion a chain of events that would leave the team broken, its members dead or captured or on the run, and force Ghostman to leave behind the only woman he’s ever loved. And it would put him in the debt of Marcus, a man who does not write off losses (for example, look for the shudder-inducing scene with the force-feeding of nutmeg…).

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Reviews & Press

Crime Fiction Lover Reviews Hogan’s SISTINE

February 28, 2013 by

This week our friends over at Crime Fiction Lover — hands-down one of the best suspense fiction sites we know — reviewed Michael Hogan’s Sistine. The verdict: 5 Stars.

If you love a comfortable murder-detection-solution book, then look away now…Sistine is edgy, lyrical, dark and sometimes downright peculiar…but after a while it becomes clear what Hogan is doing with his complex and innovative story structure. I judge this to be a brilliant book by a fine writer…

Read David Prestidge‘s full review here.

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Blog, Reviews & Press

The Art of Deceit

February 27, 2013 by

BY AGATHO of  Mysterious Matters

I love a good tagline. And The Rogue Reader‘s tagline, “Fiction from the bleeding edge,” is as good as it gets. I love a book that beats me up and leaves me bleeding. Sadly, there aren’t many of them. Too many novels (especially those with a darker edge) miss the balance, a phenomenon I call “working too hard to to be hard-boiled.”

Michael Hogan’s Burial of the Dead is one of those rare books that gets almost everything right. I discovered it a few years ago, and it has become one of my most-recommended books. I should mention that I am an editor at an independent publishing house, but I was not the editor who originally found and published Burial of the Dead. But I wish I had been.

I often think about, and sometimes blog about, the constraints of genre fiction.  On the one hand, we (publishers, that is) like books that fit COVER_Hogan_Burialinto a formula that is easily marketable.  On the other hand, editors (like me) seek books that push the limits of the genre, that seek to do something new, different, bold, brave, exciting.  It’s a tough balance to pull off, and it requires a special writer.

Burial of the Dead is such a book. Fans of the genre can be assured that it falls clearly into the “mystery” category. Every single page, chapter, and part of this book is suffused with mystery.  For every question that is answered, doubts are raised and new questions arise.  We almost never know who’s lying, who’s telling the truth, and who’s allied with whom. When those questions are answered, the only result is more mystery as the reader must adjust everything s/he thought s/he knew.

The plot is, on the surface, quite simple.  A wealthy older woman, owner of a successful funeral home and rich in her own right, has died.  Was it suicide, or was she killed? Throughout the pages of Burial of the Dead, we see a parade of characters, all of whom stand to benefit in some way by the woman’s death.  There’s her long-lost great niece; her late husband’s business partner; various employees; and various policemen and politicos, all of whom have a stake in finding out what really happened, or in trying to hide the truth.  Each chapter mystifies as much as it enlightens, and the result is a book that grabs you and won’t let you go, as layers upon layers are peeled back and revealed.

The setting is Connecticut, which is deconstructed in a rather alarming and brilliant way throughout. We’re treated to a slice of life in which every character is somehow linked to other characters in sometimes subtle and always mysterious ways.  Many books, I think, can be lifted from their setting and plopped down somewhere else with little damage to the story, but I don’t think that’s the case here, which is testimony to the author’s abilities as a writer and social observer.

I do not exaggerate when I say that Burial of the Dead is one of the most provocative, intense, mysterious books I have read in the last decade. In its pages the author has perfected the art of deceit: staying three or four steps ahead of the reader at every turn. I can’t remember the last time I so thoroughly enjoyed being so thoroughly deceived.

Agatho is an independent publisher of mystery fiction, and blogs at Mysterious Matters to educate and entertain writers and readers of mystery and suspense with tips, comments, and the inside story of the mystery publishing industry.

Reviews & Press

The sparsity of Hogan’s prose, it’s sheer economy, its simplicity and bull’s eye precision are awesome to behold.

November 23, 2012 by

BY PETE MORIN, from his precisely intoned Amazon review of Mike Hogan’s DOG HILLS.

It will be hard to write a review about this novel without sounding like a foolish acolyte.

If this novel were a human being, it would be a quiet, welterweight MMA fighter with less than 1% body fat.

The sparsity of Hogan’s prose, it’s sheer economy, its simplicity and bull’s eye precision are awesome to behold. Yet, Hogan mixes this brutal efficiency with the cadence of sentences peppered with “ands” that draw you short of breath until you delight in the pause to reread, just for the thrill of the second pass. For the first time since owning a kindle (2 years), I utilized the notes feature to save examples. A couple of them:

Describing the face of a hired killer:

It was more than just the absence of life, it was the presence of another life, the vacuum of the hatred he’d built up in himself over the years, living with his swollen head tottering like a party mask on his pencil neck.

From the perspective of a punk kid in the grasp of a hired killer:

And somewhere in the telling of it the kid realized that he was going to die, and like a wash of clarity wiping away all of the drug induced, alcohol induced semi-oblivion of lost youth, the kid knew it was over and tried to pull away.

This is noir in a way that Cormac McCarthy would write it. McCarthy or Hemingway, with a way Flannery O’Connor might have used her dark, sick humor to describe the depravity of man.

As another reviewer observed, Bollo Walsh is a beautiful man, a loser you can root for, because despite the hopelessness of his predicament, you know he is a man with a conscience and moral ethic who, when the moment occurs, will not hesitate to make use of his opportunity.

Mike Hogan is one of two of the debut authors of The Rogue Reader (the other Ro Cuzon), a product of the current publishing environment, where seasoned veterans of the traditional industry saw an opportunity to create their own brand and bring strong, fresh voices to the digital marketplace. I am a huge fan of Mike Hogan, Ro Cuzon and The Rogue Reader.


Reviews & Press

A no holds barred, sexy, violent noir with a liberal dash of NOLA

October 10, 2012 by

The latest review of Ro Cuzon’s Under the Dixie Moon:

“A no holds barred, sexy and violent noir with a liberal dash of NOLA, Ro Cuzon’s Under the Dixie Moon is one part Charlie Huston’s Hank Thompson novels, one part Lawrence Block’s Matt Scudder novels, delivering an unblinking look at the dirty underbelly of a corrupt society, complete with ugly consequences and melancholy endings. The plot hits all the right genre notes — corrupt cops, perverted serial killer, lesbian bartender — but Cuzon nails the relentless pacing and gritty tone, and creates a compelling ensemble cast that rises above their archetypes, led by the enigmatic Adel Destin, who’s absolutely begging for a turn on the big screen. An impressive debut and highly recommended.” – Guy Gonzalez

 


Other People's Books

Shake Off by Mischa Hiller

September 21, 2012 by

Just down the road from the White House, across the street from the grand art museums of the U.S. capital, you’ll find a small museum dedicated to espionage: the International Spy Museum. As museums go, the institution is an infant, barely a decade old. It’s a post-Cold War luxury, to turn our Berlin spy apparatus into an installation, our Cuban intelligence strategy into an interactive exhibit. The ASM doesn’t pretend to the formality of the Portrait Gallery or the Library of Congress; its charms are mostly in its accessibility, and its full awareness that, despite the fact that spying is not a game and government intelligence is a dangerous field, thinking about the world of espionage is just plain fun. In a city full of serious edifices, the museum is a lark for any visitor, though it’s probably most enjoyable if you go with a twelve year old boy–or are able to pretend you still are one.

Who, at some point in their childhood, doesn’t want to grow up to be a spy? Once we realize superhero is too supernatural a career goal, spy seems the next best option. To be smart, strong, slick, and gadget-equipped? If you can’t be Batman, be Bond.

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