Review by New York Times Review
Here's a (real) tip about that (hypothetical) book in your hand: if the precinct cops in the story are more interesting than the criminals, then you're holding an authentic station-house procedural. But with crime novels increasingly dominated by superhero cops and out-of-this-world villains, who's writing traditional police procedurals anymore? Joseph Wambaugh is, and let us give thanks for that. A former detective with the Los Angeles Police Department, Wambaugh published his first cop-shop novel, "The New Centurions," in 1971, packing it in 25 years later after a string of terrific books about the boys and girls on the beat. Then there were no more novels for 10 years - until he came roaring back with "Hollywood Station," a triumph in the old style of heightened realism that he followed up in 2008 with "Hollywood Crows." HOLLYWOOD MOON (Little, Brown, $26.99), the third novel in this series, is set at the L.A.P.D.'s Hollywood Division and features a roster of believable, if idiosyncratic, police officers. Before activating his anecdotal plot, Wambaugh makes sure we know who the heroes are, by sending his cops out on assignments that turn into grotesquely sad and funny street scenes. Revealing themselves in these dramatic vignettes are winning players like the rookie Harris Triplett, a ,"cute little puppy" way out of his depth working undercover vice; handsome Hollywood Nate Weiss, clutching his SAG card and forever chasing elusive dreams of stardom and his female partner, Dana Vaughn, "the smartest mouth at Hollywood Station"; and the uproariously entertaining surfer dudes known as Flotsam and Jetsam, who shred the language as fearlessly as they cut the waves at Malibu. Once we've bonded with the cops, no criminal, no matter how quirky or crazy, can shake that allegiance. Not even villains like Dewey Gleason and his monstrous wife, Eunice, enterprising con artists with a flair for the intricate mechanics of identity theft who make the fatal mistake of inviting a teenage psychopath into the business. For all the personality they bring to the plot, these crooks can't alter the dynamic because there are no gray patches of moral ambiguity or conflicted loyalties in Wambaugh's world. Here, cops rule. Charles Lenox, the amateur detective in Charles Finch's beguiling Victorian mysteries, is finally given the chance to pursue his dream of becoming a member of Parliament in THE FLEET STREET MURDERS (Minotaur, $24.99). But the hastily called election in far off Stirrington comes at a most inopportune moment, just as this amiable gentleman sleuth (who is cut from the same fine English broadcloth as Dorothy L. Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey) has involved himself in the baffling murders of two politically adversarial Fleet Street journalists. Being compelled to divide his time between London and the rural town where a local brewer is giving him a run for his money seems to sharpen Lenox's ratiocinative skills even as it broadens his character. And character is very much at the core of these whodunits, which are seen from the perspective of an educated gentleman born to wealth and power. Lenox not only has access to the great homes, the private clubs and the inner political circles of his aristocratic society, but he also has the kindness to use these privileges for the public good. Let others rail against the decadent upper crust; Finch's genial hero curls up by the fire in his library, sipping his tea, reading his books and indulging his many hobbies, including the detective work to which he brings a sense of duty and honor. You can't fake the stuff that Stan Jones pulls off in VILLAGE OF THE GHOST BEARS (Sono, $24), the fourth mystery in his series about Nathan Active, an Eskimo state trooper whose beat covers the most remote regions of Alaska. A writer of muscular words and stark images, Jones sets up his scenes like film shots: the daredevil maneuvers of a bush pilot landing on a lake; herds of caribou crossing the mountains to winter grounds; a body floating gently on the current of a stream, its flesh eaten by pike. This kind of writing makes for strong reading, especially with a sturdy murder plot to give it structure. Make that two plots: one involving the unidentified corpse, the other an arson case that claims the lives of eight citizens of Chukchi, a frontier town of wooden houses and steel backbones. Active knows the territory and understands the regional psychology. What he can't grasp is the brute instinct that makes people destroy the peace of such a majestic environment. Slim as it is, P. D. James's TALKING ABOUT DETECTIVE FICTION (Knopf, $22) has biblical heft. Like her own novels, the style is clean, thoughtful and full of grace. In expounding her ideas on how detective fiction works, James makes fearless reference to everyone from Jane Austen to Evelyn Waugh. While she is gracious about the appeal of the tough guys ("The hard-boiled detectives are not introspective; it is through action and dialogue that their story is told"), she is more incisive about the work of her favorite classic authors - Dorothy L. Sayers chief among them. Perhaps not unaware that she herself is our great modern classicist, James speaks of her own methods, telling a wonderful anecdote about a blunder she made in writing about a motorcycle. She's also up to date on current authors, saluting their contributions to a genre that supplies "unpretentious celebrations of reason and order in our increasingly complex and disorderly world." There are no gray patches of moral ambiguity in Joseph Wambaugh's world. Here, cops rule.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [December 13, 2009]
Review by Booklist Review
In 2006, the Bodleian Library at Oxford University asked celebrated novelist P. D. James to write about British detective fiction. Had they requested this of James 20 or even 30 years ago, the result would have been much the same. James pontificates on detective fiction, primarily British but with an occasional nod to American writers, as if she has just emerged from the 1950s or1960s. Except for a reference to Sara Paretsky, which sticks out like a body in the library, this overview is decidedly old school. What makes her fairly conventional history worthwhile, however, is the personality of James herself. She talks about her own methods for coming up with ideas and for plotting. She talks about how Agatha Christie broke some of the most cherished rules of crime fiction. And the book is filled with quirky asides for example, James holds that the formation of a British police force in 1842 made detective fiction possible. It's like sitting across from James over tea, and that, naturally, is a delight.--Fletcher, Connie Copyright 2010 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
One of the most widely read and respected writers of detective fiction, James (The Private Patient) explores the genre's origins (focusing primarily on Britain) and its lasting appeal. James cites Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone, published in 1868, as the first detective novel and its hero, Sergeant Cuff, as one of the first literary examples of the professional detective (modeled after a real-life Scotland Yard inspector). As for Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, James argues that their staying power has as much to do with the gloomy London atmosphere, "the enveloping miasma of mystery and terror," as with the iconic sleuth. Devoting much of her time to writers in the Golden Age of British detective fiction (essentially between the two world wars), James dissects the work of four heavyweights: Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, Margery Allingham and Ngaio Marsh. Though she's more appreciative of Marsh and Allingham (declaring them "novelists, not merely fabricators of ingenious puzzles"), James acknowledges not only the undeniable boost these women gave to the genre but their continuing appeal. For crime fiction fans, this master class from one of the leading practitioners of the art will be a real treat. 9 illus. (Dec.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
James, who turns 90 in August, wrote this Edgar Award-winning book on the history, development, and craft of detective fiction as a charitable contribution to the University of Oxford's Bodleian Library. Exploring the genre in great detail, she begins with Wilkie Collins's seminal 1868 novel, The Moonstone, also discussing the Golden Age of British detective fiction that gave us the works of Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, among others. James additionally addresses her own contributions to the genre; namely, her Adam Dalgliesh series. Throughout, her prose is as clear and precise as her readers and listeners have come to expect. Actress/writer Diana Bishop does an extraordinary job of narrating this material; her British accent is crisp and lucid, and her pacing is perfect for optimal understanding by American audiences. Highly recommended for James's fans as well as anyone interested in fiction writing and literary history. The Knopf hc was described as being "entertaining [and] approachable.an appealing read for a wide audience," LJ 1/10.-Ed.]-Barbara Valle, El Paso P.L., TX Copyright 2010 Reed Business Information.
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