Clawback by Mike Cooper

Published by Viking on March 1, 2012

Clawback refers to "the mandatory return of compensation paid on a deal that later goes bad." Silas Cade collects clawback from hedge fund managers and other bigwigs of the financial world who might not otherwise be inclined to pay. His logo, if he had one, would be "a green eyeshade crossed by a 9 mil." When Cade's latest client is murdered, a new client -- after concluding that the deaths of two other spectacularly unsuccessful money managers might be connected to the most recent murder -- hires Cade to find the killer. Notable contributions to the plot come from a female financial blogger (beautiful, of course), a disgruntled forger, and a couple of tough guys who have surprisingly well rounded personalities.

Cade is the kind of action hero I like. He lives in the shadows, "in circumstances of tenuous legality," yet is endlessly frustrated by the impossibility of living off the grid in an urban environment. He's tough but not sadistic; moral but not obedient to inconvenient laws. Unlike any number of one-note buffoonish vigilantes who populate thriller world, Cade has intellect, an interesting personality, and a self-deprecating sense of humor. Unlike his wealthy clients, he's well grounded. His running commentary on life, sardonic yet perceptive, is reason enough to read Clawback.

Clawback is intelligently plotted. The motivation for the various murders is plausible. The solution to the mystery is clever. And oh happy day, Cade manages to make it through the novel without once turning to a gifted computer hacker for assistance. That in itself makes this thriller stand apart from its contemporary competitors.

Mike Cooper's lucid prose contributes to the novel's rapid pace. He manages to make the world of finance accessible to folks like me who can barely balance a checkbook. Some of the action scenes elevated my adrenalin levels. Yeah, Cade at one point leaps onto a helicopter as it's taking off and later chases a boat on a jet ski -- yeah, we've all seen those scenes on bad TV shows a hundred times -- but Cooper managed to write them in a way that made them fresh and credible. He also created a believable romantic entanglement, one that depicts the love interest's reaction to the hero more realistically than most thrillers manage.

Clawback isn't deep but it's fun, engaging, escapist fiction, the kind of book most thriller fans should enjoy.

RECOMMENDED

Archive 17 by Sam Eastland

First published in the UK as Siberian Red in 2011; published in US by Bantam on February 28, 2012

Shortly after he offers to tell the commandant the location of Col. Kolchak, a man named Rybakov is murdered in a Siberian prison camp. Stalin, believing that he watched Kolchak die, is alarmed to learn that he might still be alive. Stalin assigns Pekkala to investigate Rybakov's death and to find Kolchak. Pekkala was the Tsar's most trusted investigator before the Revolution, a unique position that carried an insignia and title: the Emerald Eye. Despite his connection to the Tsar (which resulted in years of imprisonment after his post-Revolution arrest), Pekkala now works for Stalin in the Bureau of Special Operations.

Posing as a prisoner, Pekkala returns to the Siberian camp where he survived years of forced labor in the frozen wilderness, marking trees for cutting. Pekkala's investigation of Kolchak's murder is hampered by an unfriendly camp commandant, a hostile guard, and a troika of prisoners who are all that remain of the Comitati, Kolchak's loyal followers. Pekkala soon realizes Stalin's true agenda: the hope that his investigation will lead Pekkala to the supply of Imperial gold that Kolchak was hiding for the Tsar's family. Yet the answer to the Kolchak mystery may lie in Archive 17, where inconvenient information goes to die.

Archive 17 blends riveting action with psychological tension as characters are forced to confront current threats and terrors from their past. There is a subtlety to Sam Eastland's characterizations that isn't a common feature of modern thrillers. Even characters who aren't at the forefront of the novel -- including Stalin's personal assistant and a sadistic prison guard -- have well-formed personalities.

Eastland peppers his story with atmospheric detail that contributes to its illusion of reality. His writing style is economical, resulting in a narrative that is rich but short. Layers of intrigue rise to a dramatic pinnacle as the story progresses. The novel's conclusion is surprisingly satisfying.

This is the third Eastland novel to feature Pekkala. It isn't necessary to read the first two (I haven't) to understand this one. I nonetheless intend to place the first two novels on my reading list. Pekkala is a fascinating creation of a skilled writer.

RECOMMENDED

Dogma by Lars Iyer

Published by Melville House on February 21, 2012

Lars and W., two friends last seen wandering through life in Spurious, return in Dogma. The end is still near. Lars is still the butt of W's scathing criticism and the recipient of his opinions on subjects ranging from courtship to capitalism. Lars' flat is still damp. Lars and W. are still loyal to their idealistic vision of an unspoiled Canada. They are still fond of Kafka and Plymouth gin. They are still trying to understand religion and Rosenzweig. They still embrace life while feeling defeated by it, no more consequential than "leaves swept up in an autumn storm."

New in Dogma: W. images himself as Diogenes while visiting Nashville ("the Athens of the South"), while deeming Lars "a Diogenes gone mad"; Lars and W. compare the British to Americans (who can't make true distinctions, particularly when it comes to gin); Lars writes poetry of despair; W. takes Lars on a pointing tour of Plymouth (where Lars photographs W. pointing at architecture he admires).

Also new is the intellectual movement that W. and Lars decide to christen. They call it Dogma. Dogma has rules. Dogma is spartan, full of pathos, sincere, and collaborative. Ironically, W. and Lars are none of those things, making them poor standard-bearers for the movement they invent. They are, however, according to W., "the last friends of thought." It is up to them to keep thought alive. That effort is slightly hampered by a new rule: "The Dogmatist must always be drunk" because "who can bear the thoughts that must be thought?" Fortunately they think just as much, and about as clearly, when they are drunk as when they are sober, although after drinking they have trouble remembering the other rules (not that it matters, since they add new rules on a whim).

In my favorite section of Dogma, Lars and W. travel to America on a lecture tour (their lectures, unsurprisingly, are sparsely attended). As the best and (mostly) worst of America rolls past -- novelty motels, "huge crosses looming over nowhere," miniature golf courses -- I was reminded of Humbert Humbert in Lolita. W. is as acerbic as Humbert but funnier; his commentary provokes chuckles and occasional belly laughs ("They've made a Disneyland of Armageddon!").

When a sequel is more of the same, a reader probably shouldn't complain if it is a sequel to something wonderful. Dogma gives us more of the same biting humor, more of the same maddening characters, more of the same nutrition for our minds. Still, one of the things I loved about Spurious was the sense that I'd never read anything like it. That magical feeling was missing while reading Dogma, because I've read something exactly like it: Spurious. And that, really, is one of my only two complaints about Dogma: the feeling that I was reading outtakes from Spurious. The second is that Dogma has more philosopher in-jokes than Spurious (at least I think they're in-jokes; not being a philosopher I can't pretend to understand them). I think Spurious is a bit more accessible to those of us who aren't intimately acquainted with the history of philosophy.

Those mild criticisms aside, Dogma is just as funny and provocative and stimulating as Spurious. These books are as much about friendship as anything else, and reading Dogma is like visiting old friends (albeit the kind of friends you want to keep at a distance lest they begin to annoy). I'll therefore look forward to the third book of Lars Iyer's trilogy, but with the hope that Iyer finds a way to differentiate it from the first two.

RECOMMENDED

The Technologists by Matthew Pearl

Published by Random House on February 21, 2012

In 1868, the navigational instruments on every ship in foggy Boston Harbor go haywire at the same instant, causing a disastrous series of shipwrecks.  Soon thereafter, all the glass along a Boston street liquefies.  The baffled authorities, fearing that “the darkest reaches of science and mechanical arts” are responsible for the disasters, need expert assistance to find an explanation.  Will that help come from venerable Harvard or its fledgling rival, the Institute of Technology?  The conflict pits a professor at Harvard against the president of MIT, and William Blakie, a leading Harvard student and pompous moralizer, against Marcus Mansfield, a working class kid who was plucked from his job as a machinist to become one of MIT’s first students.  Mansfield and two fellow students turn to practical science to solve the mystery.  The call themselves the Technologists.

At times The Technologists seems like an extended science lesson, but it is never dull.  There are moments of wicked humor; college students and pranks go hand-in-hand while making fun of the pretentious is always good sport.  The possibility of romance arises with each appearance of the frosty Ellen Swallow, MIT’s lone female student, although not with Mansfield; Agnes the chambermaid is more his speed.  Flashbacks to the Civil War add another layer of interest.  The novel eventually mixes elements of a thriller with an intriguing whodunit that invites the reader to puzzle out the identity of Boston’s saboteur.  Matthew Pearl employs misdirection to good effect, yet still plays fair:  there are subtle clues to the culprit’s identity planted along the way.  Shrewder readers than I might identify the villain before his or her identity is finally revealed.

The Technologists pursues a number of interesting themes, many centering around educational models that were undergoing a revolution in the latter half of the nineteenth century.  Harvard represents the “classic education” that values tradition and faith while upstart MIT favors factual accuracy and scientific investigation.  There is no room for the “new sciences” -- chemistry and physics -- at Harvard while they are the bread-and-butter of MIT.  Academics and politicians debate the wisdom of teaching science to women, of educating students who are not “morally fit” (i.e., are not devout Christians), and of waiving tuition for students from the lower classes (who, in the view of some, will never be the sort of gentlemen who can benefit from their studies).  Should education remain entirely in the lofty realm of theory or should students get their hands dirty performing experiments?  Although the reader knows which side prevailed, the debates offer a fascinating look at the evolution of modern education.

Sometimes the characters in The Technologists seem a bit too Dickensian, but that’s also part of the novel’s charm.  I prefer characters with greater depth and endings that are a bit less formulaic (even the last chapters are a throwback to Dickens), but I can’t fault Pearl for writing a novel that is exciting, interesting, and fun.

RECOMMENDED

The Coward's Tale by Vanessa Gebbie

First published in UK in 2011; published by Bloomsbury USA on February 28, 2012

When we take the time to look beneath the surface, people are not always what they seem to be.  Sometimes those who seem cowardly are not cowards at all.  Sometimes atonement is mistaken for guilt.  In her unapologetically humane novel, Vanessa Gebbie reminds us of the patience and effort that is required to understand another person, and of the rewards awaiting those who make the effort.

Eccentric doesn’t begin to describe the characters in The Coward’s Tale.  In Chaucer-like fashion, their stories are related by Ianto Passchendaele Jenkins, the town beggar, in exchange for coffee and toffee.  Some of the stories teach lessons; some are gossipy; some are funny and some are heartbreaking.  Occasionally it’s difficult to grasp the point of a particular story, but getting to know the peculiar characters is reason enough to read The Coward’s Tale.

Jenkins has a story about everyone in town, as well as their ancestors.  A few examples will give a flavor of Gebbie’s creations:  Icarus Evans, the shop teacher, is consumed by the challenge of making a wooden feather that will float on currents of air; he never stops trying to achieve the impossible.  Jimmy Half (for halfwit or half-alive) Harris, born dead and buried before coming to life, cannot speak, although he was born to be a poet.  Factual Philips, a deputy librarian who covers his walls with diagrams, maps, charts, and lists, with particular attention to the clues and deductions that lead Sherlock Holmes to the truth that lurks behind mystery, finally gets a chance to solve a mystery of his own.  Also obsessed by maps is the town undertaker, Tutt Bevan, who revisits his childhood as he walks through the town in a straight line.  Touching stories explain why the son of a man who died in a coal mine became a window washer, why the son of a thief sneaks into houses at night, why Ianto tells stories while others toil.

In addition to Ianto, a boy named Laddy Merridew furnishes a common thread to bind the stories together.  Laddy wanders about the town, observing and interacting with its inhabitants, feeling lost and unsettled, worrying about his divorcing parents and trying to decide where he should live, listening to Ianto’s stories and wondering whether they are true or just more lies told by an adult.  In many respects Laddy is a young version of Ianto, while Ianto sees his lost brother in Laddy.

As they progress, Ianto’s stories become more serious.  They begin to echo each other:  broken windows and shadows and reflections are recurring images.  The stories share and develop themes.  Maps are bad because “they stop us from finding new places” or they “make places different to how they are in our heads,” although a self-made map can help you confront fears and find your own path.  A nearby coal mine inaptly named the Kindly Light appears in many of the stories, eventually becoming the novel’s central focus.  It is the site of a disaster that worked unexpected changes upon the town and its people -- Ianto most of all.

Witty, wise, and charming, intense and powerful, The Coward’s Tale offers a remarkable blend of humor and pathos.  The novel illustrates the importance of storytelling as an instrument of healing and community bonding.  Ianto’s stories inspire hope even in their saddest moments.  They encourage forgiveness and understanding as they reveal the frailties and faults of the townspeople.  The sad but perfect ending is the final knot that ties the stories together.

Gebbie writes musically rhythmic prose, forming sentences as sharp and shimmery as broken glass.  Both in style and content, The Coward’s Tale is an outstanding novel.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED