I Just Finished Reading...

My humble reading list for May, 2025:

A Walk Among the Tombstones – Lawrence Block A Matt Scudder book, of course. Yes, the burglar books are good, too, but they don’t come close to this series. Generally the endings are all good: no shootouts, no car chases, no silly explications while the murderer holds a gun on our protagonist. Also, Block’s dialog is the best in the West. The fact that I read this for the eighth time says it all. Forget the movie.

The Wood at Midwinter – Susanna Clarke A quaint little standalone story that will have to do while I hold my breath for a follow up to Piranesi. I want more Piranesi.

Ice Trilogy – Vladimir Sorokin (Bro, Ice, 23,000) I am pleased with myself for having read this trilogy. It was all good, don’t get me wrong. The first one is there to weed out the unserious readers, and I can see how some people whine about it and did not finish it. But for me it laid the ground for the following two books, and it manages to end on a subdued note. Again, no shootouts and no car chases. That’s all in the body of the books, where it should be.

The Devil Knows You’re Dead – Lawrence Block The next installment in the series. This one is even more subdued. This book is revenge on all the people who think there has to be action scenes in crime fiction. There doesn’t.

No Exit – J. P. Sartre This is the first I’ve read of Sartre. It’s good, of course. If you want to know what it’s about, go read it.

The Crystal World – J. G. Ballard I was hoping for better prose, as I always do, and didn’t really get it, as is often the case. And one could criticize the story, but the concept and the imagery make it all worth it. More Ballard, please.

Goodbye, Columbus + Five Stories – Philip Roth This is my first Roth, and it was not what I had expected. I didn’t realize going in that it would focus so much on the Jewish American experience, but that was just fine with me, since in these early stories Roth’s dismay and pride both come across strongly, all tempered by humor. These stories are good. Do I read more Roth? Maybe someday, though realist fiction is not always my thing.
 
I've read Roth and Satre. No Exit is a classic. Best punchline ever. Nausea is excellent too. I started Being and Nothingness but never finished it.
 
A "horrid book"

Parsons, Eliza - The Mysterious Warning

Ferdinand, impetuous youth, marries the impoverished yet lovely Claudina, against the expressed wishes of his father, the Count.
He is swiftly disinherited, casting he and Claudina adrift in the cruel world.
The best course of action seems to join the Emperor’s regiment against the Turks.
Where, he is injured and imprisoned.
Meanwhile, half-brother Rhodophil pleads his case, or so he says, all while seducing the lovely Claudina, causing servants to whisper, “she’s now a-breeding”.
Sprawling novel thumps across the continent from manor to castle.
Barons and counts, thieves and rogues, misunderstood hearts and treachery.
While not what I would call a thumping good read, it does entertain, amidst a lot of soap opera revelations and tangled relations.
I blame Jane Austen for this, my initial entry into her “horrid novels”.
Read, if you have leisure, and a taste for extended prose.
Note: the observation of ancient Rome is unsettling.
 
Necronomicon Three

Various (Editor: Black, Andy) - Necronomicon Three

Following Vol 01 and 02, this shows a change of publisher, and two aspects are immediately apparent. The type is larger. Same amount of pages, but with larger type the word count will be less. In addition, many images are iffy. Several are so poor as to resemble Xerox copies. Lastly, the typos are off the scale. Where is the editor throughout?

Alright, the good stuff: Opening with a humorous interview with Brian Yunza (Necronomicon, The Dentist, Dagon, From Beyond, Re-Animator), who doesn’t take his output too seriously.

Back to back articles on Scream And Scream Again (stylistically all over the place), and Baron Blood (now on my list) and others.

“The Modern Fantastic” roves from Carpenter’s The Thing to Lynch’s Fire Walk With Me, studying both films in depth.

Editor Black offers a nice remembrance of Soledad Miranda.

Essay on Herzog’s Nosferatu will be a must for fans of the film or director. Likewise another chapter on Rodriguez’s From Dusk Till Dawn, with emphasis on colleague Tarantino.

As always with this collection, a few resemble overwritten college papers, fine for those who long for additional psychological explanations for their Slashers.

There is an excellent argument for Stivaletti’s Wax Mask, another one that passed below radar, both mine and the public’s it seems.

Should I mention Wicker Man, Eyes Without A Face, Faceless? Final chapters conclude another strong group of film essays.

Here’s hoping Black will rein in the typos by volume 4, and quality proof those images.
 
Jose Donoso - Hell has no limits - 4/5
In a whorehouse located in a decrepit village that is eternally waiting for electricity, tensions build with the arrival of a violent truckdriver, who threatens Manuela, a trans woman, with violence and violation. Repressed desires, prejudice, shame and the always huge gap between the powerful and the powerless will explode in a night of atonement. Reminded me of Onetti, one of my favorites. Will surely look for other books by him.
 
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Gardner, Erle Stanley - The Count Of 9

Private eyes Cool & Lam are involved in another mystery.
Bertha, less so much in this outing.
While she provides security for a shindig, guarding the penthouse elevator, a second jade statue is still stolen, along with a six foot blowpipe.
Donald Lam is a charmer, though, and soon sweet talks a bevy of lovelies.
Extremely fast moving read filled with arrogant boasters and brawny cops.
Did I mention the females? Ripe curves who find testosterone the greatest aphrodisiac.
Overall mystery is pretty fair, and Gardner keeps one guessing throughout.
The writer also plays fair and never cheats or adds revelations.
Typical of 50’s innuendo, don’t expect corks to pop in your presence.
 
Rick Harsch

Harsch, Rick - The Periphus Of Spur Tank Road

Hotel Ganesh, India, evening, sultry outside, bordering on stifling.
Character Rick relaxes on the terrace, trying to enjoy, appreciate, think.
When a monkey, a Bonnet Macaque to be precise, hisses, “Hey Mac.”
Rick, being a creative sort, doesn’t find a talking monkey so unusual, and the two begin a conversation.
From here, gentle reader, drop any preconceptions. Just switch off the damn TV and hang on.
Exchanges range from lurid history, to volleys against the preening indecency of humanity.
Yes, yes, I know, we mean well. Yet, when we do what we do – oops, sorry.
Vasco da Gama may get singled out, but he is merely a stand-in for the horde.
Our monkey, soon calling itself Pagan, speaks a fractured English.
For the best, as our author has not included dialogue markers (he said, Pagan replied)
We navigate a jungle of words, often confused or meandering.
Very enjoyable, if you have a taste for this, although I often suspected the author was on a bender, free-styling impressions while his hallucinations were fresh.
 
Charles Willeford

Willeford, Charles - Understudy For Death

Richard toils the graveyard shift at the small town rag in Florida.
He has a wife, a son, yet he works nights so during the day he can polish his play.
Been working on that play five years already.
The managing editor assigns him a story about a local murder / suicide.
Young mother, who killed her two children before herself.
Richard is a piece of work, antagonizing most everyone he encounters.
Likely his wife Beryl most of all. Beryl is Southern belle down to her heels and wonderful to read.
The book is another left field title from Hard Case Crime, as there is no crime, aside from suicide which generally distresses most folks.
Lot of carnal bouncing in this, although not graphic (originally published in 1961).
Similar to John Dexter fare, or titles from Candid Reader or Late-Hour Library.
While the narrative meandered and muddled along, I did enjoy it.
Not necessarily main character Richard, but the supporting characters and especially his sly bride.
 
Mad Max Collins

Collins, Max - Quarry’s Vote

Professional hitman Quarry is retired, comfortably off, living in seclusion.
He encounters a girl half his age and eventually marries, a turn I found contrived.
Turning down a lucrative contract leads to those nearest him being killed.
Another annoying coincidence, I suppose necessary to kick the revenge plot in gear.
Once underway, Quarry locates his adversaries, observes, ingratiates himself to innocent helpers.
Even though he is middle-aged and overweight, ladies stare and flirt.
Maybe that will subside when he hits 80. Or he’ll be chased by gals in wheelchairs and walkers.
Formula all the way, but if you appreciate this efficient killer, you should enjoy this.
 
Alan Ayckbourn

Ayckbourn, Alan - The Divide

A lethal STD pandemic is annihilating humankind. Women carry, exposed men perish. Within a few generations, adios folks.
Solution: divide the genders. Men in the North, women in the South. Wait for the disease to die out.
Generations play out; now young male Eilhu and female Giella discover hormones and libido.
Epistolary novel, set in the near future, predominantly in the female South, is NOT a dystopian saga.
Society works fairly well, although there are glimpses of discontent. Attitudes are divided between Orthodox, Moderates and Progressives.
Being epistolary, the narrative is carried by diaries, letters and memorandums.
Because so much of this is told by young Soween, I am putting this into Young Adult reading, despite some of the spicy activities.
Main characters are teenagers, yet they seem like teens from the 1940’s or much earlier.
I had trouble buying them.
There are four seasons. Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn. Each season has 30 days. (?)
After 200 pages, the adults predominate and the energy boosts.
By using different fonts, each character their own handwriting. That was a creative touch.
Fans of the playwright might be tempted, but this not a comedy of manners. It is an old-fashioned, VERY old-fashioned love story.
 
Marquis de Sade

Thomas, Donald - The Marquis de Sade

Informative biography of a rather irritating soul.
The aristocrat and his litany of complaints, like so many of the rich.
Cautious souls or folks who slow down to giggle at traffic deaths, there is little of de Sade’s celebrated pornographic fantasies in this.
There ARE drawings and plates from various editions of his work, as well as voyeuristic art during and following his era.
I had no idea that de Sade had joined the other team, the Revolutionaries, following the great purges.
Being literary, being able to write, had its advantages.
This also dashes cinema presentations where the roué suffers in squalid misery.
No. By the end he was pretty much a country club prisoner.
For those who put their faith in karma, Life is ever disappointing.
An enjoyable book that I’ve owned for decades, only now reading.
I shall likely put this in the box of Salvation Army donations. I imagine de Sade would be amused.
 
Reggie Oliver

Oliver, Reggie - Wings Of Night

Forty years on, John recollects his youth, early theatre work.
Wales, Llandrudion Bay, where the Grand Theatre may be haunted.
It certainly is troubled, with a shady history, locked rooms, half heard whisperings.
Nonetheless, the show must go on. In this case, three plays of questionable merit.
Oliver seems inspired here: delicious characters, tedious rehearsals, forced camaraderie.
For theater people, for fans of not-so-quiet hauntings, this will be hard to put down.

.

If you are reading, meaning if you are a consistent reader, I hope you try to attend theatre, as well.
Not exclusively high ticket musicals on Broadway or the West End. But local theatre, amateur theatre, shoot, college productions. Live, onstage, there is almost always something to enjoy or appreciate.
If you are a habitual reader, you are already rebelling against the decline of culture.
Support theatre, embrace reading. Resist the herd, friends.
 
Max Collins

Collins, Max - Quarry’s List

Hitman Quarry (no real name) is sorta retired, sorta out of the whack-job business.
Until a pair of assassins arrive to plant him six feet under.
Neither star in their own books, so they are soon cold as chilled duck feet.
Leaving Quarry to ascertain who paid for the hit and why.
Think tying up loose ends, and you’d be thinking Quarry’s way.
Usual Collins formula. Hard boiled page turner, peppered with sex and violence.
Harks back to Quarry's period working for the Broker, yet looks forward to his freelance period.
Very quick read. Two days for me.

Bought from Hard Case, back when I bought every new publication.
Eventually, more than anything, I disliked the larger size (miss the Dorchester era, although I know Charles was boxed into a corner) and stopped buying altogether.
 
Brian Evenson - Father of Lies - A little too long although it's less than 200 pages. Hilarious at times and not scary at all. Rather, It is dry and unforgiving in its depiction of succumbing to our temptations until we are reborn unto them. Unfortunately, there are countless people like our protagonist, Provost Fochs. They are legion, for they are many. This one and Last Days (about a sect of amputated people) are good little books.
 
Fleur Jaeggy - Sweet Days of Discipline - Her prose is so icy and sharp. Each phrase cuts like paper. No, paper is too soft. her prose is like a Waterjet cutting machine. A master of representing stillness and also a meticulous documentist of the passage of time. It´s wonderful to read a prose so precise. I wonder how hard(or easy) she might work this pieces. Highly recommended.
 
Guillermo Rosales - Boarding Home(The Halfway House) - 3.5/5 - a very bleak novella that sometimes tends to some sort of a self pity piece. There is also a rape scene, just like the one in Mike Leigh´s Naked. Like that film, it sinks the protagonist even deeper in our hatred for him ...
It reminded me of "Benedetti`s La tregua. The ever present and sort of overused latin american theme that love for a woman can save a man's life, no matter how wretched he is. But it can´t. Fate always proves them wrong. Fate spits in your face, fate kicks you in the teeth, fate digs your grave and winks.
 
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