
Showing posts with label irish independent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label irish independent. Show all posts
Thursday, January 10, 2013
I Hear The Sirens In The Street: First Newspaper Review

(be warned this review is spoiler heavy. it's a really nice, well written piece though, so perhaps the best thing to do is to read it fast and then forget everything they said...)
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Adrian McKinty has done it again. In the second episode of a promised trilogy on the exploits of Sean Duffy, a Catholic policeman in the RUC at the height of the Northern Troubles, he maintains the tension, the sense of period and the quirks of character that made The Cold Cold Ground such a compelling read.
Having emerged from that adventure sadder, wiser and more cynical, with wounds to show and a Queen's Police Medal, he has gained promotion from sergeant to detective inspector.
It proves to be a short-lived distinction since his congenital insubordination and a chronic inability to give up the chase even when he has been taken off the case and the file closed leads, in the present instalment, to a reduction in rank and the humiliation of return to uniformed duty.
McKinty catches the atmosphere of the time with great accuracy, especially for a serving policeman living in the community, the sense of being under threat all the time, whether on or off duty, the daily look under the car for a bomb with a mercury tilt-switch, the heavy drinking and drug taking, and the wary relationship even, perhaps particularly, with colleagues.
There are too for the CID man the daily turf-wars with special branch and the mysterious interventions of army intelligence, who spirit suspects out of custody and destroy evidence.
At a time when the report on the murder of Pat Finucane and the release of the papers on DeLorean make the headlines, there is little need to question the verisimilitude of the fictional presentation.
The chase begins, on this occasion, with the discovery of a headless, limbless torso crammed into a battered travelling-trunk on waste ground near the site where an American adventurer John Zachary DeLorean is engaged in developing and building an exotic new car which is to cost the British taxpayer many millions of pounds.
From the unpromising start of a fragment of readable tattoo,Duffy and his team are able to identify the victim as a US army veteran who has been working for the federal drugs agency.
The subsequent investigation leads Duffy into the hostile and suspicious dereliction of Islandmagee, a couple of other apparently unrelated murders, an attractive and lonely widow and an eccentric landowner down on his luck.
It involves conflict with his superiors, with special branch and military intelligence and, more brutally, with the FBI and US treasury agents. He loses his pathologist girlfriend from the earlier episode, but not before she had identified and explained the toxicology of an obscure drug which could be obtained from a hothouse plant with an innocent name.
The story unfolds of drug-smuggling and tax-evasion, vain attempts by the government to provide jobs, and more successful ones by DeLorean to screw as much as possible out of the British Treasury before the inevitable collapse.
Duffy's bohemian lifestyle, his uneasy relationship with his loyalist paramilitary neighbours, his forays among the suspicious poteen-makers of Islandmagee and his preference for gathering information in the beds of the widow and an attractive American PA add spice to the narrative.
There are cameo appearances by Jack Hermon as chief constable and John DeLorean as conman in chief, and a picture of a sadder, wiser Duffy, reduced in rank and humbled in having to man a road-block in the middle of nowhere in the wake of a mass escape from the Maze Prison.
His search carries him to America (at his own expense and in his own time) and fairly rough handling from the authorities there. An odd case of urgently booking a direct flight from London to Boston on one day and then travelling Aer Lingus by Dublin and Shannon the next may be an example of devilish deviousness in covering his tracks. More prosaically it might just be a case of poor proof-reading.
Either way, it does nothing to lessen the tension or the tautness of the narrative, which proceeds at breakneck pace to a final denouement with a twist in the tale – the ultimate whodunit.
Even in the humiliation of road-block duty, there is a signpost for the next Duffy engagement. It should be worth waiting for.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The Critical Consensus On Falling Glass
When you've finished writing a novel you have no idea how it's going to be received. It's definitely not like the moment when Paul McCartney played Hey Jude for the rest of the Beatles and everyone in the room knew that they were listening to a classic. No, books are much more subjective. For every person who loves Naked Lunch and thinks it's a masterpiece there are ten who hate it. There are exceptions...I've yet to find someone who hates Charlotte's Web but I'm sure there is a nutter out there somewhere who doesn't dig it. (Apologies if you are that nutter.)...
When I finished editing Falling Glass last October I hated the bloody book. I'd read it through half a dozen times and that was enough to kill any love I had for the jokes, the set pieces, the characters etc. I was also discouraged by the rejections I was getting from American publishers who felt it "wasn't commercial enough." My old house, Scribner, passed, Henry Holt passed, St Martin's passed. We started showing it to smaller presses who often boast about publishing "outsider voices from different perspectives" etc. and they all said no too. My Australian publishers didn't even tell me when the book was coming out and I only knew it was out here because I happened to chance upon it in a shop.
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My UK publishers Serpents Tail liked it but they've always been very supportive of me and I did wonder if secretly they hated it and just wanted to spare my feelings. I'll chalk it up to experience I thought. No one wants to read a noir story about Irish Travellers in contemporary Ireland. I'll know better next time...
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But then the reviews started coming in...And the reviews told a vastly different story from what the voices in my head were saying. Spinetingler Magazine was one of the first out of the gate and they loved the book. Spinetingler ran a review and an extract and an interview. The next review I read was in The Guardian newspaper and the Guardian loved it too. Next came an extremely positive review in the Irish Times (and this from a paper who have sent me a few rockets in the past). Last week I got a lengthy write up at The Crime Of It All and just yesterday I got a great review in the Irish Independent from Declan Burke - a man who knows his onions where crime fiction is concerned. Declan's review was interesting because Falling Glass got the lead in the paper above John Banville's latest novel. There have been other reviews along the way on blogs, in newspapers and on Amazon. The only people I've come across who really disliked Falling Glass were a couple of listeners on Audible who couldn't get into the story or "found the narrator dry" whatever that means. My old pal Bookwitch wasn't convinced by the ending and I've had a few emails from people who also felt the same...In general though, as I said in a blog post last week, this is the best reviewed book I've had since Dead I Well May Be.
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Johnny Foreigner has also gotten on board. Serpents Tail have sold the rights to Germany, France and a couple of other EU countries which means that you can get Falling Glass in the entire British Commonwealth and most of Europe but, crucially, not North America. I have to say that I beg to differ with all the American publishers who claim that the book is not commercial in the US market. There is one place and only one place where Falling Glass is available in the US and that's on Audible.com. On Audible, as of today I've had 132 ratings, an average rating of 4.11 (out of 5), and twenty one written reviews. By way of comparison, despite heavy advertising, a recent profile in The New Yorker, radio and TV interviews and a book tour, the latest John Banville crime novel has 10 ratings, 1 customer review and an average rating of 3.30. I'm not knocking Banville but I am knocking the US publishers who think there is no market for me or my novels. The listeners and - a fortiori - the readers are out there!
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Before I get off this solipsistic topic forever I would like to thank EVERYONE who has written a review of any of my books on Good Reads, on a blog, on Audible, in print, on any of the Amazons etc. I do read all the reviews and I take seriously what people say. I often completely disagree with you but if you've taken the trouble to review my book I will read it. And even if the corporate suits in mid town Manhattan don't want to take a chance on me, well there's nothing I can do about that, but I sure do appreciate your support. Go raibh maith agaibh
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