P.I.

Mark Arsenault
§ Speak Ill of the Living
Linda Barnes
§ Heart of the World
Michael Bartoy
§ The Devil's Only Friend
Cara Black
§ Murder in Belleville
Sean Chercover
§ Big City, Bad Blood
Michael Connelly
§ The Narrows
John Connolly
§ The White Road
Robert Crais
§ The Forgotten Man
§ The Last Detective
§ The Watchman
Barbara D'Amato
§ Hardball
Loren D. Estleman
§ American Detective
§ Nicotine Kiss
§ Poison Blonde
§ Retro
§ Sinister Heights
Steve Hamilton
§ A Stolen Season
Libby Fischer Hellmann
§ Easy Innocence
Lynn Hightower
§ Fortunes of the Dead
Naomi Hirahara
§ Snakeskin Shamisen
David Housewright
§ Madman on a Drum
§ Pretty Girl Gone
§ Tin City
D. Daniel Judson
§ The Poisoned Rose
Jonathon King
§ The Blue Edge of Midnight
§ Shadow Men
§ Visible Darkness
Michael Koryta
§ Sorrow’s Anthem
§ Tonight I Said Goodbye
§ A Welcome Grave
William Kent Krueger
§ Blood Hollow
§ Thunder Bay
Laura Lippman
§ By a Spider's Thread
§ Charm City
§ Every Secret Thing
Lisa Miscione
§ The Darkness Gathers
Sara Paretsky
§ Blacklist
P.J. Parrish
§ A Killing Rain
§ South of Hell
§ A Thousand Bones
§ An Unquiet Grave
Steven Sidor
§ Skin River
Lono Waiwaiole
§ Wiley's Lament
§ Wiley's Shuffle

 


The White Road, John Connolly, Pocket, $7.99.

At the beginning of The White Road people are rushing to see "the burning man", and at first I thought John Connolly was referring to the famous Burning Man festival in Nevada. I should have known - in his books the burning man is going to be an actual person, not an effigy, and the reader will see, hear and smell flesh sizzling. Connolly's books are about as far from cozy as they can get, their world of depravity and violence matched in darkness only by Andrew Vachss. Unlike Vachss, whose prose is spare and telegraphic, however, Connolly has a lyrical and expansive writing style and the gruesome happenings seem to unfold in an aestheticised slow motion, kind of like a Peckinpah movie.

In The White Road, Connolly's fourth novel, the result is a deeply unsettling examination of the sins of the American South from the lynchings of the old days to the less obvious but no less hateful discrimination of today. Connolly's hero, Charlie Parker, travels to Charleston, South Carolina at the behest of an old friend, a lawyer who believes his young, black client is innocent of the murder of the daughter of a powerful, white family. Things, of course, are a lot more complicated and nasty than they seem, and he's soon drawn into a tangled, devious web of bloody history and an even more bloody present. This is the sort of thing James Lee Burke has written masterfully about, but Connolly, an Irishman, is also in a position to understand the curse of ancient enmities and long standing blood feuds.

As is only too often the case in today's "supersized" novels, The White Road is too long, but if you like your mysteries strong and dark and your body count high you might want to take a ride on it.

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