A school shooting in fictional Charon County, VA, reveals horror and catalyzes reckoning in S.A. Cosby’s eagerly awaited follow-up to Razorblade Tears. This is, unsurprisingly, a masterpiece of Southern noir, but that’s selling it short: it’s a fantastic novel, period. The first responders to the shooting are led by Sherriff Titus Crown, a Black man who won a contentious, racist battle for his seat and who now safeguards Klan members and kind neighbors alike. Titus is able for them all, alternating deep kindness with cutting, politically savvy one-liners that put racists in their place. (Appropriate, given his lack of fondness for “stand[ing] there like an extra in Gone with the Wind.”) But even he is thrown when the investigation into the school shooter—a Black man killed at the scene by white cops—uncovers a grisly secret. Join Titus and his meticulously drawn, flawed family, colleagues, and townsfolk for a deep introspection on how evil begets evil and good begets good. And watch for the gripping movie that’s sure to spring from Cosby’s pages.
Book of the Week
“The only way to survive a whirlpool is to let yourself be dragged along by it,” realizes Evelyn, the confused daughter of an accused murderer. The murderer, Hugo Lamadrid, has been missing since a Buenos Aires train crash killed and maimed scores of passengers. Readers know that Hugo escaped the wreckage, where bodies are “piled up, jumbled together, crushed against the walls of the carriage, spilling out the window, dislocated, broken, busted.” But the police don’t know and have just been to his house about the murder. What the authorities do know is that Evelyn and her mother, Marta, suddenly and mysteriously got the urge to leave town after the police’s visit, and now the national media is fixed on the shrine they’ve set up at the home of Marta’s sister that begs the wounds “ofourlordjesuschrist” to help find poor, hapless Hugo alive on the train. A whirlpool indeed, in a book whose baroque abundance of language, strange observations, and even stranger ending are memorable and striking. For those who loved Julie Otsuka’s The Buddha in the Attic.
I hesitate to review this novel—which is quite fantastic in every sense of the word—for fear of giving away one iota of the plot. Fran and Ken Stein (get it?) are a Manhattan-based brother and sister duo, in their mid-twenties, who operate a private-investigation firm. Having lost their parents when they were babies—or did they?—they focus on helping adoptees find their birth parents.
Whether their mom and dad are alive or not, the two have good reasons to be obsessed with their parentage, since they’re not exactly 100 percent human (let’s just leave that alone for now), stand well over six feet tall, and have the physical prowess of junior superheroes. The real delight is our narrator, Fran—equal parts snarky, witty, and loving—who agrees to find a client’s missing father, with only a rare ukulele for a clue. Ken is more of a bro, a frat boy who’s packing major muscle. But as trying as he might be, the siblings stick together because, well, there’s no one quite like them in the world.
The little ukulele caper becomes so much more, and before you know it, the two are running all over New York City, whether in pursuit or in hiding. This book is a total delight. But more than that, I’m obsessed with the storyline (it ends on a big of a cliffhanger) and if the next volume in the series isn’t released soon, I’m heading to New Jersey and downloading it from the author’s computer myself.
Laura Lippman’s standalone novels are tremendously smart, descend deeply into the lives of a small cast of characters, and slowly build the readers’ anxiety to a nearly unbearable level. Prom Mom doesn’t disappoint.
Amber Glass left Baltimore decades ago, and for a good reason. The night of her prom, Amber gave birth, alone and without fully understanding she was pregnant. The baby died, and Amber, burdened with the tabloid moniker Prom Girl, was briefly incarcerated. Meanwhile, her prom date and crush, Joe Simpson, escaped largely unscathed, free to pursue the girl of his dreams.
When circumstances align to bring Amber back to Baltimore, she can’t stop thinking of Joe. Both have full lives. Married to a plastic surgeon he adores with a younger girlfriend on the side (yes, he’s that guy), Joe runs a busy commercial real estate firm, while Amber is using an inheritance to create a surprisingly successful gallery. Yet encounters are inevitable—Baltimore’s a small town—and slowly the two are drawn into a relationship they seem powerless to stop.
Set during 2020-2021, when the pandemic was at its peak and so many lives were being upended, Prom Mom brings us somewhere so shocking, yet so credible, we’re left contemplating this story for days to come.
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.