Book Review: "The New Iberia Blues" by James Lee Burke

"For good or bad, my preoccupation with death and the past had defined much of my life, and a long time ago I had made my separate peace with the world and abandoned any claim on reason or normalcy or the golden mean. Waylon Jennings said it many years ago: I've always been crazy but it's kept me from going insane."

World-weary New Iberia Police Detective Dave Robicheaux returns in James Lee Burke's 22nd book in this series, The New Iberia Blues. Dave is visiting local boy-turned-film-wunderkind Desmond Cormier at his waterfront estate, looking at the water through binoculars, when Dave thinks he sees a body tied to a giant cross, floating on the waves.

As Dave is more than prone to seeing things that don't exist, like the ghosts of soldiers he fought with and those he killed in Vietnam, he asks Cormier and his odd friend, Antoine Butterworth, what they see. Both claim to see nothing, yet Dave was right: there was a woman floating on the waves, and she has been crucified to a wooden cross.

The woman had apparently worked for The Innocence Project, but was recently more interested in a career in film. Cormier and Butterworth both claim never to have seen her before, but how did she wind up in the water near his house? Meanwhile, Clete Purcel, Dave's loyal yet troubled best friend and former partner, witnessed an escaped death row inmate from Texas running for shelter, and no one is quite sure whether he is guilty of the horrible crimes of which he is accused, or if he happens to be the victim of his overzealous nature.

The crucified woman's murder is just the tip of the iceberg in a series of increasingly ritualistic, grotesque murders which rock Dave and his colleagues. They don't know whether these crimes are the act of a deviant killer who believes in the occult, or if they're simply being staged to appear that way. And as Dave's suspicion of Cormier and Butterworth and their movie-making colleagues grows, he and his colleagues also run afoul of the mob, corrupt cops within their own parish, and a deranged man with a strange honor system. It's more than enough to make Dave question everything he believes in, including his hard-fought sobriety, and puts at risk everyone and everything he loves.

James Lee Burke is one of the finest living writers today. I have been reading his books for 30 years now, and not only is his storytelling top-notch, but few match his talent for imagery and setting as well. When I first started reading his books, he described New Orleans so vividly that when I made my first trip there, I was amazed at how spot-on what I pictured in my mind was to the reality I saw. Here's just an example of his poetic imagery:

"The sunrise was striped with pink and purple clouds, the live oaks a deep green after the rain, the bayou high above the banks, the lily pads and elephant ears rolling with the current. It was a study in the mercurial nature of light and shadow and the way they form and re-create the external world second by second with no more guidance than a puff of wind."

Burke's books are brooding and atmospheric, meditations on good and evil (and man's penchant for both), and the demons that haunt us. They're also stories about fierce love, friendship, and loyalty, and how sometimes our need for self-preservation leads us down paths we'd be better off avoiding. The New Iberia Blues is trademark Burke—full of twists and turns, tremendously thought-provoking and dense with philosophical and psychological insight, and a sometimes troubling look at the horrible things people do to one another, sometimes for no reason at all.

These books aren't as fast-paced as typical crime novels, but they're just so well-written I enjoy the time to marvel at Burke's language and the complexity of his flawed characters. Reading this series for as long as I have always feels like reuniting with old (yet troubled) friends, and I am so grateful to have discovered Burke all those years ago.

Book Review: "The Silent Patient" by Alex Michaelides

I read a lot of thrillers, so I tend to be pretty hard on them. Because, as I've mentioned, I have this tendency to suspect every single character that appears in a thriller, I'm often not as surprised as many others are when authors throw in twists and turns, or when the perpetrator is finally revealed.

While I had some suspicions about the way things in Alex Michaelides' terrific debut, The Silent Patient, might go, I will admit he pulled one over on me at one point. I really enjoyed the way he kept me guessing and was completely hooked on this story of murder, infidelity, psychological instability, and the desire to be a savior.

Alicia Berenson was an artist of some renown, but these days she's more infamous than anything else. Married to a handsome photographer for whom she is consumed by love, they seem to be the picture-perfect couple, at least to anyone on the outside looking in. One night, her husband came home late from a shoot. Moments later, he was shot five times in the face and killed, and the police found Alicia covered in his blood, as well as her own, as she attempted to slit her own wrists.

From that moment on, Alicia hasn't spoken a word. Her trial for her husband's murder was a hotbed of rumors, innuendo, and media sensationalism, but no one ever finds the answers they seek, no one understands what would have made Alicia kill her husband so brutally and then try to take her own life. With no other real choice, the judge sentences her to treatment at the Grove, a forensic unit for dangerous patients, in North London.

"And so, with no further revelation forthcoming, the disappointed media eventually lost interest in Alicia Berenson. She joined the ranks of other briefly famous murderers; faces we remember, but whose names we forget."

But psychotherapist Theo Faber continues to be fascinated by Alicia's case, and he believes that only he can reach her, can delve down into her psyche to uncover the secrets that have kept her silent for six years now. When a position opens at the Grove, he is quick to jump on it, and it isn't long before he has convinced the clinical director, Dr. Lazarus Diomedes, to let him begin treating Alicia, even if she hasn't spoken a word to any other doctor, and has displayed sometimes self-harming and sometimes violent behavior toward others.

Theo does want to help Alicia and perhaps find out the truth behind her husband's murder and the events of that fateful night. But he's also drawn to her because he believes they share a troubled childhood and even a history of emotional challenges. Theo has struggled with depression throughout his life, yet he believes he's uniquely qualified to help Alicia, and perhaps, himself.

"The real motivation was purely selfish. I was on a quest to help myself. I believe the same is true for most people who go into mental health. We are drawn to this profession because we are damaged—we study psychology to heal ourselves. Whether we are prepared to admit this or not is another question."

As Theo attempts to connect with Alicia, he faces challenges from his colleagues and the management of the Grove, who are considering closing down the aging facility, and from Alicia herself. Is she really mad, or is the silence an act? Is she a violent murderer or a misunderstood, grieving widow? Theo seeks answers as his own life seems to be imploding at the same time.

The book's narration shifts between past and present, from Theo's endeavors to treat Alicia to Alicia's reflections of the past expressed through her personal journal. I really wasn't sure what to believe about her, and I kept waiting for some surprise to come bursting out of the woodwork. Michaelides does an excellent job teasing out the suspense in small doses, making you suspect different characters along the way, while you race to figure out the truth as Theo tries to do the same.

In a sea full of thrillers, I found The Silent Patient to be a really strong one that stands apart. There were a lot of layers to this book, and Michaelides was like an orchestra conductor, making sure all of the pieces worked together. If this was his debut, there's no telling what he will come up with next. I know I'll be watching.

Book Review: "You Know You Want This" by Kristen Roupenian

Wow, what a crazy collection of short stories this was!!

Kristen Roupenian's debut collection, You Know You Want This, is at turns frank, brutal, disturbing, kinky, poignant, emotional, and eye-opening. Her stories are about relationships of all kinds—parental, romantic, sexual, those between friends and lovers, and even those between relative strangers. The relationships are rarely equal, in that most often, someone has the upper hand, although it might not always last for long.

This collection reminded me a little of Carmen Maria Machado's fantastic collection Her Body and Other Parties, in that they explore imbalances of power between the genders, and a number of the stories have some sort of erotic charge. A few of the 12 stories in this book are a little weirder than most, with violence, fear, and even the supernatural at their core, while some take a more traditional route.

Among my favorites in this collection were: "Bad Boy," in which a couple starts out wanting to help their friend get over a dysfunctional relationship, only to create an even more dysfunctional relationship with him; "The Boy in the Pool," about childhood best friends who had grown apart, and a teenage crush on an actor from that same period; "The Matchbox Sign," which tells of a couple struggling with problems real and imagined; "Scarred," about a woman who conjures her heart's desire, a naked man, after finding a book of spells in the library; and "Cat Person," in which a young woman finds herself in a relationship with a man for whom she's not sure how she feels.

Roupenian has a vivid imagination, a talent for evocative imagery, and she creates characters which, for the most part, seemed like everyday people trapped in some unusual situations. (Obviously that doesn't apply to every story.) While a few of the stories were a little too bizarre for my tastes (and she's unflinchingly graphic with her descriptions of violence, blood, gore, and a little bit of the macabre), overall, I found this a fascinating collection, one that will definitely stick in my mind for a long while.

This is the first short story collection I've read in 2018, and I hope it signifies that this will be a year of fresh stories from writers new and seasoned, full of memorable characters and situations that make me feel, make me think, and at times, make me a little uncomfortable.

Book Review: "The Breakdown" by B.A. Paris

As Kermit the Frog is fond of saying, it's not easy being green. It's also not easy being a voracious yet all-too-human of a reader, who tries desperately not to let the hype of all of my Goodreads' friends five-star reviews creep in and color my expectations of a book. Sometimes immovable Robot Larry wins, and sometimes the flawed mess more commonly known as Larry does. Apologies in advance.

Cass seems to have it all—a loving husband, a job she enjoys, a secure financial position, and good friends. One night in the middle of a huge rainstorm, she takes a shortcut home through the woods (in her car, not with her picnic basket), even though she promised her husband she would avoid that route. When she's nearly home she comes upon a car on the side of the road, in the midst of the storm, and she sees a woman sitting in the car.

Cass should stop and see if the woman needs help, right? But the woman doesn't have her flashers on, and didn't honk her horn—wouldn't she do that if she needed help? Then Cass realizes this could be a scam of some sort, one which might leave her vulnerable in the middle of the woods on a rainy night, with no mobile service to call for help. Since the woman must already be waiting for help, Cass decides to drive home and alert the authorities afterward, but when she arrives home she forgets about it.

The next morning, Cass is distraught to find out a woman was found murdered in her car in the woods the previous night, the woman she saw. But she was fine when she drove by, wasn't she? Or was the killer still in the woods, waiting to see if Cass would stop so he could kill her, too? Cass is utterly wracked by guilt, but she can't admit to her husband that she took the shortcut. As the days following the murder pass, Cass is barely able to function—she's consumed by the thought that she could have helped the victim, and she's growing increasingly more afraid that the murderer saw her stop that night, and is planning to silence her.

Cass' days are spent feeling convinced she's being watched, worrying that someone is trying to break into her house, and someone keeps calling her house but not saying anything. She's coming utterly unglued, and to make matters worse, she's starting to forget things—plans she's made, occasions she's planned—even whether she took her pills or activated the burglar alarm. The only way she can seem to cope is by taking pills to calm her anxiety, but they leave her in a drugged stupor, much to the chagrin of her husband.

Why can't she get past the murder? What is happening to her that she can't remember anything? Will she wind up alone, unaware of what is going on around her?

The Breakdown took a while to build up speed and tension. Obviously you know something will happen, but you don't know what or when. For a while, Cass' character really started grating on my nerves because she was just a sniveling mess, falling to pieces at the slightest thing, yet taking all sorts of risks. And then...BOOM. B.A. Paris throws in a twist which, while not utterly surprising, really turns the plot on its ear and sends the book careening to its conclusion.

I haven't yet read Behind Closed Doors so this was my introduction to Paris' storytelling. Once the book hit its stride, I really enjoyed it, and found myself reading it quicker and quicker, so I could see how everything panned out. While it took a little while for the tension to build, once it started she didn't let up, which is the mark of a good thriller.

I tend to be really hard on thrillers, so I can totally see why others fell so hard for this one. I still have Behind Closed Doors on my to-read list, and I have little doubt that The Breakdown will be seen on beaches, airplanes, and e-readers once it is released this summer, and deservedly so.

NetGalley and St. Martin's Press provided me an advance copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks for making this available!

Book Review: "A Place Called Winter" by Patrick Gale

Full disclosure: I received an advance copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review. Many thanks to NetGalley and Grand Central Publishing for making it available.

This was a lovely, beautifully written, poignant book, that reminded me a little bit of John Boyne's The Absolutist in its tone and subject matter, although the former left me more of an emotional wreck than this one did!

Growing up a child of privilege, Harry Cane was shy, ill-at-ease in social situations, and more than happy to blend into the scenery than be noticed. His financial situation left him able to live a life of leisure, and if he could interact with no one but his more gregarious younger brother, Jack. But when Jack meets an outspoken young woman, Harry comes along to meet her sister, and before he knew it, finds himself happily married to a woman whose social discomfort is similar to his own, and they are proud parents of a baby girl.

Despite some financial challenges, life is peaceful for Harry, and he is able to live the life he wants. But when he finds himself drawn into an unlikely affair, it changes him completely—and its discovery threatens to ruin his marriage, his comforts, and even his life. With nowhere else to turn, Harry decides to join the crush of people migrating to the Canadian wilderness in the hopes of settling a homestead there. Life is bleak, and the work is even harder, but he learns that he is far stronger than he ever thought, and can handle adversity better than he imagined.

Living in the harsh landscape brings him face-to-face with a menace both attractive and ruthlessly dangerous, and two relationships which will change his life in similar but different ways. Harry realizes that he is willing to fight for what he believes he deserves, and he is worthy of love. But he must face occasional isolation, harsh elements, the threat of war, even madness.

Patrick Gale is a terrific storyteller. This book captures perfectly the tone and feel of its time in history, its setting, and the conventions of the world in which his characters live. While at first Harry's passivity is a little frustrating, you watch him discover his inner strength and you find yourself rooting for him. A Place Called Winter is loosely based on a mystery within Gale's own family, and that makes what transpires in the book even more aggravating and upsetting.

While I found the book moved a little slower than I would have liked from time to time, and found the continued return of one of the book's villains to be a little improbably after a while, I really enjoyed this book, and found myself very emotionally invested in what happened to the characters. This is the second of Gale's books I've read and he again dazzled me with his writing—this is book of sensitivity, emotion, a little suspense, and a lot of heart.