Picking up where I left off yesterday, still droning on about mysteries, here are some from the menfolk that I really enjoy.
In the hard-boiled private investigator genre, you can’t go wrong with the Patrick Kenzie/Angela Gennaro series from Dennis Lehane. Kenzie and Gennaro operate out of a down-on-its-heels Boston neighborhood and run afoul of all manner of gangsters, psychopaths, and other urban detritus. Like all good noir, these novels put the characters in situations where they run the risk of becoming what they despise. How many moral compromises can you make before you’re just as bad as your opponents? And how do you move on from mistakes and traumas that haunt you? Lehane is also the author of Mystic River, and if you haven’t seen the movie, I’d suggest you read the book. It’s a lot more affecting on paper than in Clint Eastwood’s overwrought movie version.
Another P.I. favorite is Donald Strachey, the sleuth in a series by Richard Stevenson. Strachey is smart, sexy, and gay, and works out of Albany, N.Y. Stevenson’s stories are often topical (or were when they were published), always slyly funny, and have enough of a noirish edge to keep the stakes high and the suspense humming. Strachey’s longtime companion, Timothy Callahan, is a treat. Educated by Jesuits and a Peace Corps veteran, he tries to keep Strachey’s unethical impulses in line, with varying degrees of success. Their relationship is a highlight of the series; it’s a pleasure to watch a loving, functional couple hash out differences of opinion like adults. The appallingly named Death Trick is the first in the line. Less luridly titled but equally entertaining are Ice Blues and On the Other Hand, Death.
The Four Corners region of the American Southwest is one of my favorite places on the planet, so it’s no surprise that I’m crazy about the Joe Leaphorn/Jim Chee mysteries from Tony Hillerman. Methodical Lieutenant Leaphorn and impulsive Officer Chee try to keep the peace in the Navajo Nation. Leaphorn is a skeptic, and Chee is deeply spiritual, but they share a commitment to their community, constantly under assault from outside opportunists, internal malaise, and, worst of all, bureaucrats. The Nation is a nightmare of overlapping jurisdictions, which adds a wonderful underlying tension to the investigations as tribal, state, and federal law enforcement bring their own agendas to the table. Hillerman beautifully captures the setting and its disparate cultures. He also crafts memorable characters, from his central cast to the suspects and sources that pass through.
From the Book Week News Desk, Dr. Scott at Polite Dissent offers up some of his favorite mystery series and confesses his fondness for hapless bounty hunter Stephanie Plum. (I share that fondness, though I don’t recommend reading a stack of Plum books in a row.) At the Low Road, Ed Cunard admits that he’s kind of a voyeur. (Aren’t we all?)