5 out of 5

HCC-012

I sorta knew after a few pages that this HCC was going to be a 5 crampon one.  Having read enough of them to get an overall flavor for the series (although part of the reason I do dig the publication is because its rather widely varied within its genre), Dutch Uncle has the harder-boiled flair I’m into but with its eye on character and not just on crackin’ you over the kneeskull with a blackjack – not that the crackin’ books can’t be 5 crampons also, but I digress…  The thing is (AS WITH ALL THINGS YAYY), despite my building love for Pavia’s structure and writing style, chapter to chapter, there’s always the opportunity for the last minute curveball where it just falls apart.  And it almost happens.  Pavia gives us two potential curves toward the book’s tail end, and I must believe that they’re purposeful, but in a totally believable manner, he walks us to the light.

Dutch Uncle – which I’m told (via my brain by looking it up) is a slang term for someone who lords over you with derisive comments – and then in-book, as an over-arching joke, in a way, or perhaps even a meta-commentary on assumptions (?), the Dutch Uncle in this book is really just someone’s, eh, Dutch Uncle.  I mean, not really, but he’s not the slang version either, and no one really cops to why they call him that, and there’s a vague relation somewheres…  The “Uncle” is Manfred Pfiser, aging gay living in Miami who sometimes helps to broker some drug deals, but is pretty well liked, jovial and friendly.  And damn, he ends up dead.  Harry Healey has just finished a jail stint with Leo, and Leo asks Harry to do a favor for this Dutch Uncle, and Harry… well, now it looks like he done killed Manfred, only he didn’t.  Cue some cops and robbers, cons and mobsters, cat and mouse.  And some great characters, and a story that somehow manages to build without actually doing too much of anything beyond its initial murderous deed…

Let’s step outside of the story for a moment to just focus on Pavia’s style.  Apparently he used to be cop, and I don’t know what it would’ve been like working with a cop like Pavia, but dammit if he doesn’t have the know-how down to stringin’ an entertain’ sentence on the typed page.  A lot of these guys are ex-somethings – ex-lawyers, ex-cops, ex-whatever that gives them insight, and they fill their books with that goodness, but Pavia somehow gets the swagger of both the good guys and the bad guys down without over-criminalizing or over-glorifying either side – the story shows through every action the good and bad that exists on both sides of the line, and though the person we root for ends up “winning,” you can still draw your own conclusions about what’s worth it in this little crime-ridden world.  The other thing Pavia adds to the story makes me bias – it’s my favorite version of multi-character stories, where each chapter chooses a principle to follow and sticks to them, not cheating, and goes in order – character 1, 2, 3, and moves the story forward with each installment.  A lot of writers will either mix up the 1, 2 3 which – noting that there are always exceptions – doesn’t work for me because, while I understand that sometimes you’re following the story, it tends to make me skip ahead to the start of the next chapter to see if we’re with a character I like.  If not, I know I have to slug it through until – flip flip flip – chapter X where we’re back with Tom, Dick or Jane.  By staying in order, maybe you don’t like character 2, but you know when it’s coming.  The other thing writers will do that bugs the shit out of me – and Mr. Neal Stephenson I’m looking at you – is introduce a new character late in the game.  This feels like cheating.  Is it a narrative style that can be used effectively?  Of course, but often it just takes you out of whatever consistency was being built.

Now going back in to the story, Pavia pitches each of his characters – Harry, the con trying to do right, Leo, the pretty-boy trying to get away with doing wrong, and Martinson, the aging cop struggling with concepts of justice – as mostly likeable, surprise surprise.  Likeable, but flawed, or spiraling forever in one direction, as all noir characters are.  And “likeable” in the sense that you don’t mind reading their chapters.  There was not a moment of this book I dreaded, not a day I didn’t feel like cracking it open to continue.  Even some of my favorite books I get a little tired trudging through some portions, but not so with this one.  Leo, for example, is not a good dude by any means – pretty loathsome – but I believe in him as a human, which is to say – he’s not completely evil.  And Pavia makes us understand that his logic is flawed, and that he is, by degrees, stupid, but again – still human.  It was really a great twist or a character trope that I haven’t experienced before.  And Healey, sorta similarly, fits the bill as the anti-hero, but Pavia doesn’t make him too tough or too good or too anything.  He can be brutal, and he can also be stupid, but he is most importantly a relatable human being.

Obviously I can’t glow enough.  Pavia digs in deep into the culture when needed – the first few pages just fucking bristle with street charm – but otherwise steps back and just lets us experience it.  He seeds in those noir elements that make us feel horrible inside – the need for money, the need for justice – the things that let us know it might not be roses for everyone at day’s end, but he chooses to focus on taking his characters through this one aspect of their life, and let’s us figure out how we want their stories to end.

Just a great book, genre aside.