Hunting A Detroit Tiger
Troy Soos
(Book 4 of the Mickey Rawlings baseball mystery series)

I love baseball. I love mysteries. Put them together in one novel and I’m in literary nirvana.  Troy Soos’ Mickey Rawlings series is just the ticket. Mickey Rawlings is a journeyman utility infielder (the longest he’s spent with any major league club is 3 years) who keeps stumbling onto mysteries.  Intriguingly, in this novel, he’s the killer.

It’s Detroit in 1920, just before the season is about to start.  The papers are splashed with the news that Rawlings shot and killed Emmett Siever in self-defense.  Siever was a former ballplayer who, more recently, was trying to organize the players into a union.

Other union representatives are angry with Rawlings for killing Siever.  Some even want him dead.  Rawlings also becomes persona non grata with his teammates, even the ones who aren’t necessarily interested in a union.

On the other side of the coin, representatives of the owners are pressuring Rawlings to make an official anti-union statement and stance.  Some of these representatives are, uh, less than scrupulous.

Rawlings is interested in neither side of the issue — he just wants to play ball.

Oh, one other complication.

Rawlings didn’t kill Siever.

So, who did?  And why?  And why is Rawlings taking the rap?

Parental Guidance:  I’d probably put language at a PG, and violence at a soft PG-13 (nothing really graphic, just kinda icky and scary).

Well, all the cool kids are doing it, so I guess it’s time for me to dip my big toe in the podcasting waters. Let me know what you think of the inaugural edition of Two-Sheds Radio.

Topics:

• Short book review
• Mini-rant on personal responsibility
• Why it is so not about you

Links to stuff that I mention:

• The Red House Mystery — e-text by Project Gutenberg
• The Red House Mystery — audiobook on Librivox
• The Red House Mystery — buy it from CBD or Amazon
• My posts on the Ellise family
• Andy Ellise’s response to the second post
• The Ellise family’s blog

You can listen with the inline player above, or download the file here: Two-Sheds Radio #1 [16:55m]

The Eyre Affair
Jasper Fforde
(book 1 of the Thursday Next series)

In this book, Jasper Fforde creates an alternative world that is often more believable (or at least, more enjoyable) than our reality. In Fforde’s creation, the dodo has been brought back to life (and is fast becoming a common pet), time travel is tricky but quite natural, and literature is paramount. The importance of literature can be summed up by several instances, only a few of which I list here:

• Children trading bubble-gum cards of authors, not athletes
• Will-Speak vending machines which quote a bit of Shakespeare for a small price
• A performance of Richard III enacted weekly entirely by attendees
• Discussions, arguments, and downright religious fervor over several issues of literature, perhaps none so strident as those surrounding the true authorship of Shakespeare’s plays

Perhaps the most revealing point of the importance of literature, though, is given by the occupation of the heroine, Thursday Next. She works for Special Operations in England, specifically SpecOps 27, the Literary Detective Division. As part of her duties early on, she assists in the investigation of the theft of a first-edition Charles Dickens book.

The thief becomes evident quickly — Archeron Hades — Thursday’s former college professor, and an almost comically evil bad guy (he does bad things for the sheer joy of them — any monetary advantages are merely ancillary). But the motive is not known at first. As it turns out, one of Hades’ henchmen enters the book, pulls a minor character out of the book, and kills him. As he did this to a first edition, all copies of the book are thereafter irrevocably changed to the omission of that character.

Hades then threatens to start stealing other first editions and killing off major characters, thereby stripping the world of much of its great literature. Much of the remainder of the plot involves Hades’ entrance into Jane Eyre and Next’s attempts to foil his schemes and (hopefully) capture him.

In addition to having to chase down Hades, Thursday also has to deal with the Goliath Corporation, which claims to be a benevolent weapons contractor, but in reality, has a financial strangehold on England. Whether they’re just a pain in the neck or truly one of the bad guys remains to be seen as the book unfolds.

As you can probably tell, it’s hard to classify The Eyre Affair. It blends so many genres — literature, mystery, detective, science fiction, fantasy, and humor. Some of the references and humor are fairly Anglo-centric — I only “got” them after some online investigations — but don’t diminish the story that much for the non-UK reader. Often this is seen in characters’ names — apparently Fforde delights in puns — such as Thursday’s uncle Mycroft (named after Sherlock Holmes’ brother) or her boss, Braxton Hicks (named after the contractions that occur during pregnancy). Other non-name references come to mind, but they border on spoilers, so I won’t go into detail. Suffice it to say that the more well-informed you are, the more you’ll probably enjoy this book. I’d count myself as “not very”, but I still enjoyed The Eyre Affair immensely.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now for the parental guidance and/or offense section of the review: There’s a handful of bad language peppered throughout the book. In addition, a primary character has the bad fortune to have a last name that is a homonym of the s-word. The f-bomb gets dropped a few times, but (if I recall correctly) it occurs within one 3-page span, and is actually somewhat in context.

The only other thing that bugged me was multiple references to a war that England had been in for over 100 years, and more specifically the opposition to the war that Thursday and most other veterans have to it. Although I don’t think that Fforde was trying to draw a parallel to the US presence in Iraq, and the MSM’s incessant implications that the President is the only person in the world that thinks the US should be there, some of the statements and attitudes were too familiar. However, as the book unfolded, I saw that this issue was not even just character-development for the heroine, but a bona fide part of the story, so it grew less and less irksome.

Why Is the Foul Pole Fair?
(Or, Answers to the Baseball Questions Your Dad Hoped You Wouldn’t Ask)
Vince Staten

I picked this book up at a clearance/used bookstore for $3. Having read it, I think I would’ve paid full price. (But don’t tell the store owner.)

At first blush, it looks like a book that would appeal to a baseball fan, like myself. And one would (somewhat, but not entirely) surmise that it is full of trivia. But this book is largely not about the game, but moreso about the things that surround the game.

In the book, Staten chronicles a Reds game that he and his college-age son attended, but that game is mostly a framework around which the book is built. The book is mostly about the origins/evolution of everything around the game. Staten even spends 3 pages on the origin of the turn-stile (after noting his trip through one at the ballpark) — and makes it interesting! I don’t even particularly like history, and I still found this book fascinating.

Staten covers the history of the tools of the game — ball, bat, glove, uniform, catcher’s equipment. He also describes the evolution of baseball cards, vendors (both stationary and those that roam the stands), and press coverage — just to name a few of his topics. He even spends a bit of time on queueing theory, a passage the Reds may want to read, as they apparently do it wrong when you pick up tickets at will call.

Several of the passages also recall the days of his youth — either as he played the game or the pro stars that he admired. This part especially appealed to me, as one of many curmudgeons out there that feel that pro sports have changed a lot — and not for the better — “since I was a kid”.

Baseball fans and history buffs will definitely enjoy this book, but I think many others would, too. I wouldn’t recommend it to David Wayne, but he’s one of only a few.

By the way, the answer to the titular question is found on page 223 — the foul pole is on the foul line, which is actually fair. Why the foul line is fair is left as an exercise for the reader.

(that I’ll read, anyway)

The Last Goodbye
Reed Arvin

(2 out of 10 stars)

Reed Arvin’s The Last Goodbye is his third novel. The main protagonist (who tells the story in first person) is Jack Hammond, an Atlanta lawyer who through a couple bad decisions went from hot-shot attorney in a powerful firm, to the guy that often gets turned to when a defendant hears the words “if you cannot afford a lawyer.” Doug Townsend, a former client and college friend of Hammond’s turns up dead. Given Townsend’s past and where he lived, local police chalk it up to a drug overdose. However, given Townsend’s more recent past (he had cleaned up), and the fact that he was terrified of needles, an injected drug overdose doesn’t ring true with Hammond.

Though not a private investigator (and not having nearly enough money to hire one), Hammond sets out to prove that Townsend’s death was not suicide, but murder. In the process, he meets and interacts with a wide range of people, from the man who runs the drug trade (and everything else illegal) in one of Atlanta’s housing projects to a couple who are potentially the most powerful and influential couple in Atlanta. As Hammond delves deeper into what exactly happened, he uncovers evidence that point to several murders, possibly committed by wealthy people, possibly for nothing more than financial gain. Arvin also delves into corporate espionage, social engineering, and pharmaceutical companies. Although this seems like a lot for one novel, Arvin works it in well, rounding out the story in the process.

So, why didn’t I like this book? Fasten your seatbelt.

(Before you think this is just another case of a Christian getting fed up because “one of their own” has disappointed them — e.g. the SBC’s “boycott” of Disney — hear me out.)

As noted in his profile in the back of the book, Reed Arvin was a musician and producer. He produced many of the albums by the late Rich Mullins. His first novel, The Wind in the Wheat was released in the Christian market and saw some pretty good popularity. His second novel, The Will, was for the secular market and a book that I thoroughly enjoyed, as it was a legal drama in the vein of Grisham or early Bernhardt. However, I warned in my Amazon review that this was not your father’s Reed Arvin, as “language alone would merit it a PG-13, were it a movie” as well as other potentially objectionable content.

Well, folks, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

It would seem that Arvin is going out of his way to not be “pigeon-holed” as a Christian novelist. To some degree, I understand the discomfort. It seems that those who shy away from such a definition do so for one of three reasons:

1. If, as an artist, you are defined as a “Christian artist”, you’ve automatically lost your platform to 99% of the population, which (obviously) can be a hindrance if you believe that God wants you to use your art to reach the lost. This, to me, is a valid reason (though definitely one that needs a lot of prayer cover as the artist goes out into the “mission field”).
2. If the definition is removed, the artist (who’s any good) can probably sell more product.
3. If the definition is removed, the artist can start being cool (because in many circles Christianity is considered uncool).

With The Will it seemed that Arvin was standing in category #2, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and leaned him (in my mind) toward category #1. With The Last Goodbye, Arvin has clearly entrenched himself in category #3. So why would someone comfortable with (and often enjoying) secular novels and coarse movies be so upset about this book? Again, it is primarily not because Arvin is a professing Christian. In comparison to novels by artists who don’t name the name of Christ, this book is a disappointment.

• Hammond deals with a lot of really bad people, so it’s somewhat expected that their language would be peppered, sometimes heavily, with cursing. However, of all the characters in the book, Hammond’s mouth (or his “voice-over” as he tells the story) is the worst.
• The bad decision that led to Hammond’s original downfall was that he (supposedly in a couple days) fell in love with the girlfriend of a jailed client and slept with her.
• Half-way into the novel, Hammond again “falls in love” in a matter of days, this time with a married woman and sleeps with her several times. While the fact that this will probably burn him again is made clear, the relationship is played mostly as a tragic, star-crossed lovers affair. References are made to Romeo and Juliet — the references are in another context, but clearly are meant to apply to Hammond and his lover, too.
• Though, admittedly, Hammond has had some very bad breaks in life (usually brought about by his own bad decisions), his outlook on life is so bleak, it’s a wonder he didn’t slit his wrists a long time ago. Though many popular novelists are dark these days (Dennis Lehane springs to mind), the thought processes behind The Last Goodbye are darker than an underground cave at midnight, as seen by a blind man. Compared to Arvin, Lehane is writing 1960’s-era Disney movies.

With these and similar issues, Arvin turned a well-told, great story into a very depressing and disturbing novel. I’m not even sure I want to sell my copy of this book to a used bookstore, for fear that it’d be bought by a depressed person and drive him to suicide. I realize that a good writer can create a protagonist without any of the writer’s life philosophy “leaking” through, but if any did leak through to Jack Hammond, it must really stink to be Reed Arvin.