The Hanging Club by Tony Parsons

First published in the U.K. in 2016; published by Minotaur Books on November 1, 2016

“What’s wrong with a bit of revenge?” asks a curator at the Crime Museum who keeps track of the ropes that were used to hang shoplifters and more nefarious criminals before England did away with capital punishment. That’s also the question on the minds of Londoners as they watch bad guys being executed on YouTube.

In the prologue to The Hanging Club, a small group of men execute (by hanging) a Pakistani taxi driver who just finished a relatively light sentence for his role in a gang that sexually assaulted young girls. A video of the hanging, accompanied by the hashtag #bringitback, goes viral. A good share of London’s population believes that the cab driver had it coming.

DC Max Wolfe, who has a little girl of his own, is assigned to investigate the hanging. He’s soon investigating additional hangings, some of the victims less obviously deserving of public outrage — although it doesn’t take much to stir outrage, even in stoic England.

The theme of retribution also shows up in a couple of collateral plotlines. One involves a man who was beaten to death by two young men as a third recorded the crime on his phone. The assailants receive an improbably short sentence (hence the desire for retribution). The other involves a police detective whose son was blinded by thugs. Both plot threads seem forced — contrivances that advance the plot rather than realistic events.

Another subplot involves Wolfe’s childhood BFF who is now living on the street. The reader is asked to decide whether the friend is a good guy or a bad guy, or a mixture of both. That subplot is also a bit forced, but it serves to personalize the retribution theme for Wolfe. A final subplot involving Wolfe’s attraction to a deaf specialist in voice analysis adds moderate interest to the story.

Vigilantism is often the product of fear. Unfortunately, fear and vigilantism both destroy the bonds that hold a civilized society together. “It was as if nobody could be trusted any more, as if the world had gone insane, as if you never knew who might want to dance on your grave.” Those thoughts are in Wolfe's head as London anti-terrorist police refuse to take their boots off the back of his neck, even after he has identified himself as a Detective Constable, because they fear he might be a terrorist.

The world of thrillers makes heroes of vigilantes, but too few thrillers spotlight the hypocrisy of people who think murder is justifiable if murders are committed for the right reasons. The story invites readers to consider whether private retribution is acceptable when vigilantes are dissatisfied with the punishment imposed by the criminal justice system. A shocking number of people seem to believe that trials and due process are “politically correct” values that shouldn't apply to people they categorically dislike. Defenders of vigilantism used to form lynch mobs. How much progress society has made (British or American) is a question the book invites readers to ponder.

I’m not sure The Hanging Club tackles these issues with much depth, but it does explore both sides by demonstrating that the rule of law is what saves society from anarchy, while acknowledging that people become understandably frustrated when they feel that the rule of law has let them down. The story gives readers the chance to make up their own mind about whether lynch mobs have anything to do with justice. It also allows readers to appreciate the conflict that Wolfe feels as he upholds the law in the face of angry people who think he’s on the wrong side when he pursues vigilantes.

Apart from its interesting development of a timely social issue and a multifaceted protagonist, The Hanging Club delivers an entertaining action story that is peppered with intriguing conflict among key characters. The ending contains a nice surprise. This isn’t an “edge of my seat” thriller, but it’s worth reading both as an engaging story and as a novel that makes readers think about important questions.

RECOMMENDED

The Obsidian Chamber by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child

Published by Grand Central Publishing on October 18, 2016

The last Pendergast novel ended with another cliffhanger, as Pendergast was swept out to sea. Since the series didn’t end, it isn’t a spoiler to suggest that Pendergast might still be alive, perhaps held captive by smugglers who pursue an improbable scheme to trade Pendergast for a prisoner in FBI custody. Of course, the smugglers don’t realize just how formidable Pendergast might be.

Much of the story focuses not on Pendergast, but on other characters. The Obsidian Chamber begins with the kidnapping of Constance Greene from Pendergast’s home. Characters in a Pendergast novel seem to have trouble staying dead, as evidenced by the character, presumed dead, who takes Constance. In the absence of Pendergast, it falls to his loyal servant Proctor to give chase.

And give chase he does, first by plane and then by Land Rover, using wits and a bag full of cash to stay, it seems, on the heels of Constance’s captor as he travels between and across continents. The fun factor triggered my willingness to suspend disbelief of the events described in those chapters. They are, in fact, by far the best chapters in the book. Unfortunately, when the chase peters out, Proctor disappears, leaving Constance to carry the story. That was a disappointing choice.

Pendergast, Constance, and Proctor are apparently the smartest and toughest people in the world. To a degree, they are intriguing because they are so far removed from common experience, and their knowledge of history and science and unusual meditative practices adds intellectual interest to the story. At the same time, Proctor is the only character I care about, and his role in the novels is limited. For that reason, while I generally enjoy the series, I lack the emotional investment in the Pendergast novels that I have made in other crime novels with recurring characters.

There is more melodrama in The Obsidian Chamber than I expect from a Pendergast novel. By the time the predictable ending rolls around, melodrama has overwhelmed the story. While The Obsidian Chamber doesn’t end in a cliffhanger, it does leave an issue unresolved that might tempt the authors to continue a disappointing storyline at some point in the future. I’d be happier if they killed Constance, cut out the family melodrama entirely, and returned Pendergast to a crime fighting role with an able assist from Proctor. I liked some of The Obsidian Chamber, but not enough to give it an enthusiastic recommendation. Preston and Child do marvelous research and fill their novels with interesting factoids, so I will keep reading them, but with the fond hope that the authors have put silly storylines behind them and are preparing to venture into more gripping territory.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Loner by Teddy Wayne

Published by Simon & Schuster on September 13, 2016

David Federman, a newly arrived freshman at Harvard, quickly finds a girlfriend who is perfect for him (i.e., she is capable of tolerating him) and just as quickly takes an interest in her beautiful roommate. David uses tactics to get close to Veronica that could be characterized as stalking, but it takes some time before Veronica even notices that he exists. When she does notice, she realizes that she can use him to write her papers. And so we have a classic relationship involving a user and a person who wants to be used (albeit in a different way), the kind of relationship that never ends well.

The story is told from David’s perspective, as if he were telling it to Veronica. It doesn’t build suspense in the traditional way, but it does create a sense of foreboding. Neither David, who mistreats his girlfriend and cares only about himself, nor Veronica, who seems to cultivate a tragic air when she’s not manipulating people, are particularly likable characters, so the reader might look forward to something bad happening to one (or preferably both) of them.

The story takes a smart twist near the end as David gains insight into Veronica and fails to gain insight into himself. The ending isn’t as powerful as I was expecting, but it is true to the story that precedes it. Sensitive readers might find it disturbing.

Teddy Wayne’s prose is graceful, but the novel’s real strength lies in its psychological exploration of David, a loner who is so stuck on himself that he has no clue how he is perceived by others. His sense of entitlement might make him a good fit for Harvard, but he is a misfit in any setting, socially awkward and completely invisible to the smug students who surround him. His story opens a window to other young men who derive a misplaced sense of entitlement from their intelligence while lacking the empathy and humility that would help them understand their true place in the world.

RECOMMENDED

Warp by Lev Grossman

First published in 1997; reprint editon published by St. Martin's Griffin on September 20, 2016

Young Hollis Kessler spends much of his time arguing with his friends about the science of Star Trek and saying clever but pointless things like “Lies are like these little peepholes into a better world.” He also has random thoughts, generally in the form of quotations from works he’s read or seen, all of which he inflicts upon the reader. That’s sort of interesting -- the world in Hollis’ head is certainly more interesting than the world he barely inhabits -- but clever writing and a series of references to pop culture aren’t enough to sustain a novel.

Trading on Lev Grossman's success with The Magicians trilogy, the publisher describes Warp as Lev Grossman’s “lost origin novel.” Had it not been for Grossman’s later success, this book would have stayed lost, and deservedly so. Grossman even admits to posting fake reviews on Amazon to boost the average star rating when it first came out, presumably because actual readers know a bad book when they encounter one. It strikes me as self-indulgent and pointless, although the prose certainly evidences a writer who knows how to craft an entertaining sentence.

NOT RECOMMENDED

The Story of a Brief Marriage by Anuk Arudpragasam

Published by Flatiron Books on September 6, 2016

Like any account of war, particularly a civil war that arises out of ethnic conflict, brutal images dominate The Story of a Brief Marriage. Dinesh is in a refugee camp with other Sri Lankans, including children and adults who have lost limbs to shelling and mines. Bombs have flattened the hospitals, so doctors without surgical instruments or anesthetics perform swift amputations with kitchen knives. Dinesh transports the wounded and buries the dead. Staying in the camp, he hopes, will help him avoid involuntary recruitment by the movement.

The camp’s de facto administrator is a former school principal who lost his wife and son in the war. Since life is precarious, he feels a duty to arrange the marriage of his daughter, assuring that someone will take care of her in the event of his death. He decides that Dinesh has the intelligence and character to make him a good match for Ganga. Dinesh is not certain that he is in a position to take care of anyone, but he swallows his reservations and accepts the marriage as a matter of duty.

Humans are capable of astonishing horrors. It is always worth reading books like The Story of a Brief Marriage to be reminded of the senseless, wasteful, and tragic nature of ethnic conflict. The novel is relatively short, which I appreciate when the subject matter is so depressing. It is nevertheless important for people who have no personal exposure to ethnic conflict to gain an understanding of those conflicts from the personal accounts of others, fictional or otherwise.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere created in The Story of a Brief Marriage is stronger than the story it tells. In fact, the title tells the story -- more an incident than a story -- and much of the book’s content seems like filler as the reader waits for the inevitable end to arrive.

Some of the author’s choices of content are strange. The pages devoted to Dinesh’s effort to take a satisfying dump, like the pages devoted to Dinesh’s memories of a dying gecko, I could have lived without. A long stretch during the middle pages, during which Dinesh walks around in the dark and washes clothes while thinking about his life, is inexplicably dull. This is followed by two chapters that are only slightly less dull as Dinesh lies next to Ganga and wonders about their future. Writers can use soaring prose to make contemplative passages memorable, but the simple elegance of Anuk Arudpragasam’s writing style isn’t enough to overcome the weakness of the storytelling.

Any honest book about ethnic content (and The Story of a Brief Marriage is undeniably honest) is enlightening, to a degree. I am tempted not to say anything bad about a novel that addresses such an important subject. Still, this novel struck me as less enlightening than others of its kind. I can recommend the first half for its compelling atmosphere but the second half failed to sustain my interest.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS