Book 2 of the ‘Penguin 60s’ collection and six stories from the archetypal fairy-tale-teller. Born in 1805 in Denmark, Andersen is clearly of a different time and yet his stories have been adopted by many countries and revered as classics. That is certainly true of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, which continues to speak to the folly of outsized vanity and weakness in the face of unrequited truth.
The other five tales were more obscure and new to me, but equally charming. Clearly written for children, in the style of parables, what the stories have in common are the important lessons to be drawn from characters who submit to negative human traits such as greed, vanity, or profligacy. Look out for the titles:- “The Bronze Pig”; “Little Claus & Big Claus”; “The Flying Trunk”; “The Bottle”; and “The Girl Who Stepped on Bread”. Improbably effective, such tales should not be underestimated, as they continue to convey morals, which resonate two hundred years on. Quite a legacy.
Back in the saddle at the LAPD, after a short-lived retirement, Harry Bosch reboots some ground rules with his erstwhile partner, Kizmin Rider and tries to avoid the impression that he’s a dinosaur. But, though some faces have changed in the Robbery Homicide Division, Deputy Chief Irvin Irving’s presence lingers like a bad smell and he’s lying in wait for Bosch, confident that the errant detective will make a mistake. By contrast, the ‘Open-Unsolved Unit’ is where the new Chief of Police is hoping Bosch will make his mark and help address the rhetoric around his department’s ‘greatest shame’. “A city that forgets its murder victims is a city lost…”
The murder of teenager Becky Verloren in 1988 is the first investigation allocated to Bosch and Rider in their new assignment and with the scientific advances made in the interim, on the face of it, the forensic possibilities of DNA might just make the case a slam dunk formality. Only Bosch and Rider also need to overcome errors in the original investigation and the apparent loss of key evidence from a secure police archive. Notwithstanding the ‘newbies’ have been allotted the period with the most unsolved cases, Bosch is content and almost reverential in the realisation that he is back, in his most natural environment, immersed once again in what amounts to a ‘blue religion’.
The original detectives in the Verloren case had surmised the hallmarks of a murder disguised as suicide, but the challenge for the current investigators is to revisit the evidence and generate more, despite the passage of years. Yet, while the machinations of the investigation are compelling, what makes the series of books stand out, for me, are the story arcs that link key characters and other books in the series. For example, Kizmin Rider has helped facilitate Bosch’s return to duty, but whilst an admirer of his skills as a detective, she has also taken a risk with her own career and is nervous about her partner’s capacity to attract trouble. There is also an awkward reunion with Jerry Edgar, Bosch’s former partner and a passing reference to Cassie Black (key character in “Void Moon”, published in 2000). In that sense, the reader is invited to consider this next piece in a far grander puzzle, created by Michael Connelly. Each piece/book can stand alone, but it also fits neatly into a larger examination of Bosch and his contemporaries across an impressive sweep of time.
Intriguingly the author adds familiar and obscure markers to the passage of years, through his reference to real-time events and developments. In this case, not only the emergence of DNA as a forensic tool, but also the changed regulation of wire taps. Thus, Connelly’s attention to detail has contributed to another graphic snapshot of his hero that can also be appreciated in the evolving ‘scrapbook’ that is emerging within the Bosch series. Albeit this is the eleventh book in the sequence, there is also no sign that the series is losing any of its pace or momentum. “The Closers” is another in the quite prolific output of an author ‘in the groove’, another page-turner that impels the reader inexorably on to the next book (“Echo Park”). Michael Connelly continues to consistently deliver a refreshing brand of crime novel that may well push Harry Bosch into the pantheon of iconic detectives, with the likes of Holmes, Poirot and Morse.
During ‘Indie April’ this year, I alighted on this debut novel by P.J.Sky, published in 2020. The book is set in a post-apocalyptic Australia, which was a bold choice and chimed absolutely with the story that unfolds, though in some respects the author has clearly intended the book for a ‘YA’ readership. Of course, such genre labels are merely a guide and the presence of a main character capable of extreme violence (necessary for the plot) is only partially offset by the absence of ‘bad language’. In fact, I found the reliance on “Dag it” as the expletive of choice for the youthful characters rather euphemistic, but ironically this quaint touch may equally find favour with an older reader resentful of more colourful, but accurate language. In any event, I believe the book might be best described as an ‘adventure / thriller’. Certainly the presence of complex themes such as identity; loyalty; power; betrayal; revenge; and social order command broad appeal, whatever the age of the reader.
The novel centres on two female characters from very contrasting situations. Starla Corinth is the daughter of the political leader of the sole walled city. The elite population within the enclave enjoy high living standards, derived from monopolised resources and a culture ‘protected’ from those unfortunate enough to find themselves existing in the surrounding wastelands. Moreover, for the city dwellers, “ The ultimate penalty and punishment was exile,” from which there was no return. Such is the destiny of Ari, once a child of the city, but ejected with her parents for reasons unknown and now alone but well-versed in the ways of survival in the wilderness.
Still, when Starla finds herself mysteriously removed from her gilded cage, but hopelessly equipped for ‘freedom’ in the wastelands, Ari just might be her only ticket home. Of course the malevolent forces that conspired to make the leader’s only daughter disappear in the first place cannot afford to see their skulduggery uncovered and thus the stage is set for the chronicling of the attempted ‘home run’.
Within the the plot I enjoyed very much the development of the titular character particularly . Ari has endured a tough life, which has conferred resilience, self-sufficiency and ruthlessness. She is a young woman of action, able to look after herself. Yet, her solitary existence has also created a hard shell through which Ari finds it difficult to trust anyone. By contrast, in the wastelands, Starla is immediately confronted by her vulnerability in such an alien environment, but she does have skills to bring, not least the ability to reach out, on a human level, to her companion.
In this exciting and compelling debut, P.J.Sky has created an interesting dystopian world, with contemporary echoes and two strong female characters with lots of mileage for further exploration. I look forward to the sequel (“Ari Goes to War”) with some relish.