Pulitzer Prize-winner Whitehead’s second Ray Carney book begins in the 1970s, when Ray’s Harlem furniture shop is firmly established. But, given the chaos that it engendered in Harlem Shuffle, his stolen-goods—sorry, “previously owned merchandise”—sideline is no longer. Readers of the previous book will find the setup turned inside out: instead of conquering Harlem, Ray has been ground down by it. He now sits precariously atop his small empire, the relentless engine that is the city seeming to churn the ground beneath his feet. Also different: this time Ray endures the relentlessness of several decades of upheaval compared to the relatively short and, in retrospect, gentle, time when he was a striving young man in the ‘60s. The neighborhood doesn’t want to let him retire his fenced-goods work and the Black Panthers and Black Liberation Army are competing for dominance, a fight Ray wants to sidestep. A crackdown on police corruption sees him dragged into worse and worse actions as his former associates get desperate. Ray’s troubles and determination mirror the fighting spirit of his neighborhood; his saga is New York City’s, with the shocking and sad tale displaying moments of hilarity alongside heartbreaking lows. Whitehead’s writing is fantastically evocative as usual, and his rebuilding of recent decades of New York City life, and of the unforgettable Ray Carney, is a treat to read.
Historical
Set in post-Civil War Philadelphia, this is historical crime fiction that goes deep into the many strata of society, from recent immigrants to medical students, from the police to the very rich. At its heart is Dr. Lydia Weston, practicing medical doctor and professor at the Women’s Medical College. When Anna Ward, a patient of Lydia’s, is found dead in the Schuylkill River, Lydia refuses to believe she died by suicide. Instead, Lydia manages to become part of the police investigation. Fortunately, Anna kept a diary, and by examining the patient’s writings and her cadaver, Lydia is able to begin to piece together some of what happened. Anna’s story takes us all over the city, displays the antipathy so many had for women doctors, and exposes the risks Lydia took to solve the murder. For readers who love to be transported to another era. Fans of Jacqueline Winspear and Victoria Thompson will love this book.
Flower does a magnificent job of opening up the world of mid-19th century Amherst, the Dickinson family, and especially young Emily, who has yet to become the eccentric recluse of her later years. In this volume, Austin and his wife have returned from their wedding trip and moved into the mansion next door to the family home, just in time to welcome their houseguests Ralph Waldo Emerson—who has come to lecture at Amherst College—and his secretary, Luther. Narrated by Emily’s maid Willa Nobel, we’re privy to all the family gossip, while Emily seeks a way to share her writing with Emerson. But the death of young Luther, who’s found in a bed of black-eyed Susans, sets Emily and Willa on a path to satisfy the great Emerson’s questions, quell the vociferous speculation, and clear the Dickinson name. This series is historical crime fiction at its best, balancing insight into the past with a fast-moving investigation into the crime.
Terrible accusations against women who lack a man to give them standing are mainstays of history and literature, and Virts’s spellbinding work brings to mind related tales by Anita Shreve, Margaret Atwood, and, of course, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Emily Lloyd is a widow and childless since her children have died; the last one, Maud, was the final straw for her Reconstruction-era Virginia neighbors. She’s now accused of killing little Maud, Annie, George, and Henry, as well as her husband and aunt. What transpires is a medical and legal drama, based on a true story, that pits affable lawyer Powell Harrison against a prosecutor and a town that hates his client. It doesn’t help that Lloyd’s uncle was an outspoken abolitionist, nor that she lives next door to two mysterious sisters, one of whom is known to take gentlemen callers. But Powell just might be able to free Emily using his wiles and openness to scientific methods of finding the truth, both of which contribute greatly to creating an excellent read.
What the world needs now is a great, queer detective, and Rosen is well on his way to creating him. The second in the series—the first was fun but also a bit idiosyncratic—this has the makings of a classic detective novel with a strong supporting cast. It’s San Francisco in 1952, and we’re back with struggling detective Andy Mills, whose home and office are above Ruby, a gay bar. Ex-navy and an ex-cop, Mills is still struggling to gain acceptance from the queer community. But along comes a case that may help him turn around his image. First one, then several people, it turns out, are being blackmailed—sex photos taken in a hotel, holes drilled through the wall—and Mills is on the case. But as with any good crime novel, the story isn’t what you first expect, and soon Andy is reunited with his Navy flame who disappeared seven years ago. Set against the queer bars of the city, the continual raids orchestrated by the police, and the foggy bay itself, this book is powerfully atmospheric. It ends leaving Andy free from the past and ready for the future. Exactly what most readers will be waiting for.
I’ll be 51 this Sunday and I read two books a week. It adds up, and this is the best I’ve ever read. As it’s very far from an ordinary read , I can’t write a review as I normally would. The plot and characters are fantastic, compelling, memorable, surprising…but the book is more than anything a magic box. Trussoni also has an unsettling ability to mention everything of interest and everything that has come up lately. I thought about making a website that would emulate the ability of a pile of transparency sheets to create a composite image, and that process is mentioned. I learned about the idea of the singularity this week–the possible future time when technological growth becomes uncontrollable–and it’s there. A central theme is a kind of mythical creature I had mentioned to me recently. And the characters, and of course the author, see into the reader in other ways, with the bizarre turns in the tale perfectly allowing every nuance of the strange folks within to emerge, but also startling the consumer of this sorcery on every page. What’s the book about? Everything, but there’s a framework. A puzzle maker, who, through a brain injury, gains the remarkable ability to see “that particular kind of order that [distinguishes] a puzzle from everything else on the planet,” meets a prisoner who hands him a drawing, a puzzle he can’t even begin to unlock. It leads him to letters and a diary that describe a dangerous quest to “lift the veil between the human and the Divine and [stare] directly into the eyes of God.” There’s homework before you read this so that you can be in the right frame of mind to take in its wonder. Read Brian Selznick’s The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Shaun Tan’s The Arrival, Stephen King’s Pet Sematary, Aimee Pokwatka’s Self Portrait with Nothing, and Ray Kurzweil’s The Singularity is Near. And then clear a weekend.
Depression-era San Francisco’s Claremont hotel is a wonderful playground for sisters Isabella and Iris Bainbridge Stafford, six and eight years old, respectively, who roam through it while their wealthy mother plays tennis. The luxurious hotel has a seven-story-long spiral slide that guests can use as a fire escape, one that Iris might think she’s entering to play when she fatally plunges down a laundry chute. Years later, tragedy visits the hotel again—many say it’s been cursed all along—when Presidential candidate Walter Wilkinson is found murdered in his room (murdered twice, in fact—the book explains all). Police officer Alejo Gutiérrez, passing as Al Sullivan, is the slightly jaded, but still caring, investigator who must sift through the jumble of rumors, racism against Asian hotel workers and city residents, and secretive behavior by rich characters who think the law doesn’t apply to them in his efforts to discover who killed the politician. This saga—the story has as many twisting corridors as the hotel–allows Chua to dig deep into the privileges and invisible barriers at work in any haves-and-have-nots meeting, with memorable results. Pair this with the information on the treatment of San Francisco’s Chinese citizens in David Quammen’s excellent Spillover for a sobering and enlightening view of that community’s history.
Devil-may-care heiress Ruby Vaughn has just sent the latest of her boss’s housekeepers running, with the woman on the way out muttering something about “a den of sin and vice.” Ruby does like to knock back a few drinks and scarcely cares about propriety, having planned, while a nurse during the Great War, to set up home with her fellow nurse and lover, Tamsyn. When that antiquarian-bookseller boss announces, “I’ve been thinking,” Ruby knows it doesn’t usually bode well, but this time there’s an upside. The trip he wants her to undertake, delivering mysterious books to a Ruan Kivell in Cornwall, brings her back in contact with Tamsyn, now Lady Chenoweth. Penryth Hall, Tamsyn’s miserable home with her abusive husband, only makes Ruby long all the more for the life she could have had with Tamsyn. When awful Lord Chenoweth is found dead, his body slashed as though by animals, the area’s depths of superstition and past misdeeds begin to reveal themselves, as do the powers of Ruan, the local Pellar, a powerful folk healer. Ruby refuses to believe in the curse that the locals say Chenoweth perished from, pursuing instead the help of the fledgling science of forensics to figure out what happened and restore Tamsyn’s happiness. This debut won the Mystery Writers of America/Minotaur First Crime Novel Competition, a well-deserved honor for a book whose gutsy main character and immersive world-building will remind readers of Margaret Dove in Evie Hawtrey’s And By Fire.
A supernatural mystery—part Stranger Things, part Enola Homes, but very much itself—set in 1909 Boston. Young Artie Quick, a Filene’s basement “shopgirl” by day, is fascinated by criminal behavior and signs up to study Criminal Investigation at the YMCA’s Evening Institute for Men. One problem? Artie is a young woman, and to pass, she has to adopt male drag and attempt to alter her voice. While she still lives with her working-class family, most of her time she’s at well-off Theodore’s digs—her charming if awkward best friend. Theodore is as obsessed with magic as Artie is with crime, and the two take on a case: the investigation into unnatural screams heard at night in the Boston Common by homeless men and petty criminals. What seems like a minor quest ends up taking the two on a sojourn that reveals the abduction of young women, a cover-up by city officials, and the existence of a spirit underneath the city, ready to wield even greater destruction. This book is way, way over the top—and is sure to delight its intended audience. Artie grows to love her menswear, and seems to love women as well, and her embrace of her queerness is just one of the many transformations in the book. For young adults on up.
Edgar Award-winning Hirahara’s first novel in this series, Clark and Division, was a New York Times Best Mystery Novel of 2021, among many other accolades; this follow-up will please fans with more thoughtful, poignant, and historically accurate investigations of Japanese American life after World War II.
After leaving the Manzanar camp in the first book and moving to Chicago, nurse’s aide Aki Nakasone and her parents have returned to California, where they prospered before being imprisoned, and where her father and others desperately hope to reclaim their land and businesses. Aki’s husband, Art, gets work at the Rafu Shimponewspaper (where Hirahara has worked), but his after-work drinking with other journalists leaves Aki feeling she saw more of him when he was in the army. She’s distant from her parents, too, despite sharing their home, with Hirahara portraying the generational difference as part of the estrangement that is the central theme of the book. Her characters raised in the camps display a kinship that transcends other bonds and leaves them markedly and painfully adrift from their parents.
When Art’s army buddy Babe goes missing after his father’s battered body is found, Aki sets out to find Babe and restore balance to her own unsettled life. This quest sees her explore elements of postwar life such as the competition between returning Japanese and Black Americans for housing and the effects of “shell shock” (PTSD) on a community. A must-read.