ANGELS FLIGHT by Michael Connelly

 Finished Th 6/19/25 at the tail end of a very bad cold. This was a hardback that Janny loaned me and I put off reading it, but it hass become one of my absolute favorites from the Harry Bosch series. 

From Kirkus Reviews:

"The murder of a high-profile civil rights lawyer is just the trigger for another far-ranging case for L.A. cop Harry Bosch (Trunk Music, 1997, etc.). Howard Elias was widely known as the man who made a good living by suing the LAPD. So now that he's been shot, along with inoffensive cleaning woman Catalina Perez, aboard an otherwise empty inclined railway car, cops all over the city are cheering. What's not to like? wonders Bosch. Only two things: the likelihood that Elias was helped to his grave by one of the hundreds of officers now toasting his death, and the certainty that the public will scream coverup and react in riotous fury if Bosch turns up anybody but a fellow cop as a suspect. Under pressure to satisfy Deputy Chief Irvin Irving, who's determined to put his own Rainbow Coalition p.r. spin on every development, and to work peacefully with the Internal Affairs officers he's been saddled with, Bosch soon focuses on Elias's latest client: Michael Harris, the scruffy suspect who maintains that his confession in the murder of pre-teen Stacey Kincaid had been beaten out of him by cops who jumped on their first slim lead that came their way. But even as Bosch is turning up evidence that indicates Harris might be innocent after all—many sordid, though unsurprising, revelations here—the net is closing around his former partner Frankie Sheehan, a Robbery-Homicide detective on the Harris case who'd already caught the eye of Internal Affairs when he killed a suspect in an earlier case. Bosch sweats to exonerate his old friend and find a substitute killer, but Deputy Chief Irving, who can't forget O.J. and Rodney King, is just not that interested in getting Sheehan off the hook. Reliable suspense on a grand scale, though the half-hearted attention to the suspects and Harry's perfunctory domestic troubles, as well as the lack of a powerfully mysterious center, make this the most routine of Connelly's eight world-class thrillers."

DR. JOHN: Under A Hoodoo Moon by Mac Rebennack with Jack Rummel

 Reread over sunday and monday during a very bad cold June 15-16, 2025.

From Kirkus Reviews:

"This unflinching autobiography by Mac Rebennack, aka Dr. John, with Rummel (Malcolm X, 1989) gives a firsthand account of New Orleans street life and musical history in the last few decades. Rebennack began frequenting New Orleans music clubs at an early age. In the '50s he dropped out of high school and devoted himself to playing the piano and guitar. While developing his music he also developed a taste for heroin and other drugs. Musicians in the New Orleans scene provided entertainment for ``turistas'' and, in the early morning hours, for pimps, prostitutes and thieves. To supplement their income, musicians also engaged in some of these vocations. Rebennack admits to participating in many shady dealings: He disposed of fetuses for an abortionist, held stick- ups, and conspired to, but evidently did not, murder. After a stint in prison on narcotics charges, he cast himself as Dr. John, based on the 19th-century conjurer by that name, and played distinctly New Orleans music in a wild stage show that featured snake handling and black magic. Dr. John's music became popular with the '60s counterculture. Rebennack also played as a sideman throughout his career with a catalog of music greats—some obscure and some well- known, such as Little Richard and Professor Longhair; considering the ``narcotic haze'' in which he often found himself, he remembers many details from sessions. Rebennack, however, has no respect for fame without musical skill—he refers to the group Iron Butterfly as ``Iron Butterfingers.'' Taken advantage of by unscrupulous music business executives and strung out on heroin for 34 years, he tells a tough tale. A life this varied and chaotic is hard to translate into a linear story. Though Rebennack's prose sometimes rambles, he gives the reader a perspective that most tourists to Bourbon street never see."

I wonder what he might have accomplished if his thirty year dope addiction had not been a factor in his career.

THE JUDGE'S LIST by John Grisham

Finished Su 6/15/25

This is a paperback that Janny loaned me. I loved the book and I read nearly all of it yesterday because I was sick as a dog with a very bad cold. 

It's about a crooked judge who gets back at every person who ever wronged him. It might take 20 years, but he will kill his victim with a crushing blow to the head and then he strangles them.

'The Plot' from Wikipedia:

"Three years after the events of The Whistler, Lacy Stolz is tired of her work as an investigator for the Florida Board on Judicial Conduct. But when a woman named Jeri Crosby nervously approaches her, Lacy discovers that a sitting judge, Ross Bannick, is a murderer. She's reluctant to get involved, but Jeri is obsessed with bringing the man to justice.

Jeri's father was one of Bannick's victims 20 years earlier, although his case has never been solved. She has studied Bannick for two decades, and has discovered other victims in the process.

While Bannick's guilt is never really in doubt, finding evidence to convict him is a much bigger challenge, because he knows the law, and is always one step ahead of law enforcement. He has a list that includes the names of all his targets who have wronged him in some way, and Lacy must help Jeri establish his guilt without either of them becoming his next victim.

At the climax of the book, Jeri is kidnapped by Bannick, but is rescued by police. Lacy and her brother Gunther force Bannick to flee. Before they can catch him, however, he overdoses at a rehab facility after mutilating his fingers with acid. Jeri manages to find Bannick's truck, which has a fingerprint that Lacy can use to prove two of Bannick's murders."

THE CRY OF THE HALIDON by Robert Ludlum

 This is one of my ancient paperbacks that I I couldn't finish.

Robert Ludlum wrote this before he was famous and this was released under a pen name.

It involves a corporation buying up land in Jamaica for development. I got to about page 186 and I had to give it up. 

I just couldn't get into it.

From AI Overview:

""The Cry of the Halidon," written by Robert Ludlum under the pseudonym Jonathan Ryder, is a thriller set in Jamaica. While the book starts with promise, the plot often deviates into what some consider silly and dragging. However, it does maintain a consistent and descriptive writing style. 

Some reviewers find the storyline complex and stretched, with some even saying it makes no sense. The plot can feel a bit "out there" and deviate from Ludlum's typical suspense. Some readers found the book slow to pick up, with the plot not generating sufficient interest until a significant portion of the book had been read. "

SPY HOOK by Len Dieghton

Finished We 5/28/25

This was one of my ancient paperbacks that I had never read. However, I was familiar with a few of his novels; BERLIN GAME, MEXICO SET, LONDON MATCH. I had either read the books or seen the film adaptations.

Bernard Sampson works for British intelligence and was stationed in Berlin. His wife Fiona defected to the Soviets and Bernard was not overtly blamed, but he was deemed 'tainted' (behind closed doors) by the bosses. 

This novel concerns missing millions that Fiona probably took with her when she split. The book is not so much about what happened, but more of a character study of people in the 'world of spooks'. 

The book ends with no resolution and things are left in the air. Probably how things work in the real world of spycraft. {I didn't realize that this was the opening novel of another trilogy} 

From Publishers Weekly:

"Initiating a second trilogy, Deighton mesmerizes the reader with the ongoing trials of Bernard Sansom, British intelligence agent who survived perils in Berlin Game , Mexico Set and London Match. Sansom's story begins with a fruitless meeting in Washington with former colleague Jim Prettyman, who denies any knowledge of the slush fund Sansom has been ordered to trace. Over half a million pounds is missing from money allocated to Bret Rensselear of the German desk by London Central before he was shot in Berlin. Later, in London, Sansom learns at a briefing that Prettyman has been killed, another ``incident'' pressuring Sansom's superiors to widen his investigation in East and West Berlin and eventually in France. All the people he questionseven trusted friendsdeepen Sansom's fears that Central is using him to bait their own hook. Persistent rumors about his wife Fiona, long since a defector to the Soviets, magnify his suspicions, particularly in view of Fiona's links to Rensselear and the vanished fortune. The suspense is inexorable, ensuring readers' anticipation of projected sequels, Line and Sinker."

MEDIEVAL IN LA by Jim Paul

 Finished Sa 5/24/24

This was one of my ancient hardbacks and according to the flyleaf note I spent a few days with the book in December of 1998 and I got to page 131 and then stopped. This time I enjoyed the book and read it completely. 

It's about a man who goes on a weekend getaway with his girlfriend and he envisions what it would be like to view the modern world with the perspective of a person from the middle ages. The book is a random collection of essays of these observations. 

William of Ockham was mentioned; 'Ockham's Razor'

From Publishers Weekly:

"Even in the sprawling modern megalopolis of contemporary Los Angeles (or perhaps especially there), people somehow manage to live their daily lives in stubborn denial of the most profound, transforming revolutions in human thought since the Middle Ages. So proposes the thoughtful narrator of this entertaining and whimsical meditation that convincingly juxtaposes the events of a weekend visit to L.A. with key developments in Western thought. People are still, at heart, ""pre-Copernican,"" living ""mostly in the old realm, at the center of our own universe, finding our significance, manifesting our intentions."" Jim, a medievalist by profession, spills tomato juice in his lap on his flight to L.A. from San Francisco. The mishap sends him spinning into contemplation of a dazzlingly varied assortment of personalities and phenomena. From Thomas Aquinas to Bob Fosse, Galileo to John Cage, Moses and Aaron to Jessica Lange, Brecht to King Kong, Jim takes the reader on a lively philosophical ramble as he and his significant other, Les, rejoin old friends for a fresh look at L.A. Nonfiction writer Paul, a medievalist himself (Catapult: Harry and I Build a Siege Weapon; What's Called Love: A Real Romance) strikes a winning balance of humor and erudition in his first novel. He effectively packages sophisticated insights in a breezy, seemingly casual narrative that could not be less pedantic." 

DOORWAYS IN THE SAND by Roger Zelazny

 Finished Tu 5/20/25

This was one of my ancient paperbacks and there is no date of purchase. 

A difficult read, but it wasn't really a 'serious' work. The tone reminded me of the novels of Donald Westlake.

Earth has been contacted by an advanced intersteller alien 'United Nations'. Earthlings must give the aliens some of the world's most precious art works, and the aliens give 'us' a strange arifact. This turns out to be some form of alien intelligence that is activated by human blood (?). Humans and aliens can appear in 'costume'. Fred has conversations with various animals; cats, kangaroo, and a 'wombat'. I had always thought that a wombat was some kind of flying animal or insect. It's actually very close to a racoon or a ground hog. And, can never be a pet. It's a wild animal that can't be tamed- like you couldn't have a fox as a pet.  

The main character, Fred Cassidy was addicted to climbing tall buildings and he must stay in college for as long as possible to continue the inheritence from his uncle. He has accumulated enough credits for numerous doctorates even though he is the poster child for 'slacker'. 

From Goodreads:

"I had forgotten this gem until a question on a Zelazny recommendation sent me to my shelves to rediscover this blend of Alice in Wonderland and crime caper. Set in an Earth very similar to our own, aliens have made contact and invited us to join the galactic federation. As a token of sincerity, we're participating in an artifact exchange, lending them culturally significant objects such as the Crown Jewels and the Mona Lisa, and receiving ambiguous alien artifacts in return. Meanwhile, Fred, a perpetual university student with an affinity for heights, is unwittingly pursued by various groups looking for a missing alien artifact. Thankfully, he remains calm, even when he's under duress staked out in the desert to contemplate a future as a raisin, he is rescued by a pair of intergalactic policemen. They've chosen to blend into the Australian scenery dressed as a wombat and a kangaroo.

"So I shshed while he worked on the strap. It was the most interesting hallucination I had had in a long while." (Like Ford Prefect, the aliens seem to have mistaken the dominant life form).

Although it perhaps sounds a little silly, and occasionally even a little absurd (there's a professor who reoccurs "despite his departure from the university long ago under the cloud of a scandal involving a girl, a dwarf and a donkey"), it never goes so far afield that it can't be reeled in with real life dangers and consequences. Zelazny's writing is truly inspired. Clever wordplay based on both real life observations (the quality of coffee in the student commons), absurdity (aforementioned alien disguises), and crazy levels of creativity (stereoisotropic brandy, anyone?) and deadpan delivery combine to alternatively cause giggles and awe.

Then he challenges any absurdity with poetic imagery:

"I was taken by a glorious sensation doubtless compiled of recovery from my earlier discomforts, a near-metaphysical satisfaction of my acrophiliac tendencies and a general overlay of fatigue that spread slowly, lightly across me, like a delicious fall of big-flaked snow."

Narrative style is somewhat unusual, but Zelazny is kind enough to provide variety of well-written transitions. And in these modern times of multiple viewpoints and post-deconstructed novels, a simple scrambled timeline should be readable.

Our lead, Fred, happens to be one of my favorite types of narrators, the knowledgeable eccentric. Of course, it's a lot easier to be knowledgeable when you've spent thirteen years in university classes while avoiding a degree, much to various advisers' chagrin:

"Clocking his expression, I noted disbelief, rage and puzzlement within the first five seconds. I was hoping for despair, but you can't have everything all at once."

Fred's lengthy and varied university education gives Zelazny a chance to play with a wide range of intellectual references and ideas. I thoroughly enjoyed all of them, except perhaps the mathematical poem. References are woven in seamlessly, almost throwaway at times. There's the time Fred says at the end of a drinking binge:

"'Let there be an end to thought. Thus do I refute Descartes.'

I sprawled, not a cogito or a sum to my name."

Then there's Zelazny's brilliant creation of the Rhennius machine inversion program--first run through inverts the object left to right (a key chemistry concept made amazing) and the inspired scenes that follow Fred's inversion are madcap genius. There are anthropological references to toilet cave paintings and bead exchanges, analysis of government bureaucracy, naming of the stars of the Big Dipper, stereoisomers from organic chemistry and musings on philosophy. While I know I enjoyed reading this book in high school, more years of education and experience have given me even greater appreciation for the casual and wide-ranging references--surely that is a book that stands the test of time.

In the tradition of the caper, Fred's methods are occasionally questionable (although his ethics are solid):

"Time means a lot to me, paperwork wastes it, and I have always been a firm believer in my right to do anything I cannot be stopped from doing. Which sometimes entails not getting caught at it."

Altogether and enjoyable fun read. As I waver between a 4 and 5 star rating, I realize it's rather irrelevant. I happen to enjoy it's timeless references, sophistication and breezy tone. Definitely hardbound library-worthy. Crud. Now I'm going to have to search out a better copy than my worn, cheap 1977 paperback. Note: Hugo, Locus AND Nebula nominee."