![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connolly
This book was mostly excellent and I devoured it, but it failed to stick the landing (for me, personally) in a way that makes me suspect I am unlikely to enjoy the rest of the series. In fact, I have two of them, picked up recently from the local used bookstore, and I tried the other one and found that I was right; the shine wore off when the first book did what it did. (What it did, exactly, is discussed at the end of this post.)
I've seen Connolly's name near the top of a number of "best crime/mystery writer" lists, but had never read any of his books, so I picked these up to give them a try. This book is an excellent case study in how to make a book about a basically unlikable narrator riveting. Mickey Haller, the protagonist, is a defense lawyer of the bottom-feeding ambulance-chaser variety. He takes clients on the basis of how much they can pay (and therefore frequently ends up representing career drug dealers, who tend to have a lot of ready cash around), and pulls any dirty trick he can think of to win, including emotionally destroying witnesses, lying to judges/prosecutors/his own clients, confidence-man tricks, suppressing evidence, and anything else he thinks he can get away with that won't cross the disbarment line.
The result is a fascinating read for the same reason heist and mobster fiction is. The author pulls you straight into Haller's vivid and well-depicted world. He's scum, in some ways, but he's extremely good at what he does; it's fun watching Haller pull the gears of the justice system, even if you occasionally want to punch him in the face, and the book also makes you think about the exigencies of the criminal justice system. Haller is scum, but he's necessary scum, because even the worst offenders need someone representing them. And the book draws you into the psychological underpinnings of what makes someone who really isn't a terrible guy (which Haller isn't) do what he does; as well as viewing his own role in the system as a necessary one (with justification), he's fascinated by the puzzle-solving aspect of his cases. It's a big game -- with each new client he looks for which levers he can pull to get them off.
Then, somewhere around the midpoint of the book, it begins to shift gears as Haller is brought face to face with the consequences of his own lack of scruples, and is forced to begin making moral decisions involving actual guilt and innocence, with potentially devastating consequences for the handful of people he actually cares about.
As a thriller, this book is really, really good. It hooks you with a vividly detailed portrait of Haller's wheeler-dealer world, and then at some point actually makes you start caring about him as a human being. When the pieces of the puzzle start clicking together, everything is fast-paced and well-crafted. I devoured most of this book in a single day.
And yet.
The entire book is not precisely Haller's redemption arc, but it is at least partly about Haller examining himself and trying to decide if this what he wants to do with his life, and then the ending ...
.... the ending is a total reset to zero and "well, hey, I guess this is the first book in a series so we can't let anyone grow or change, can we?"
I'm not saying I expected the book to end with Haller becoming a better person; it could just as easily be part of a Walter White-style downward spiral. It's that kind of book. But it doesn't even read like that. It simply reads like no one in this book is allowed to grow or change because we've got X books under contract and therefore the next book needs to be able to pick up in roughly the same place as this one did so people can read them independently. And it frustrated me exceedingly because the rest of the book had read like a semi-realistic psychological portrait of a particular kind of person that then pulled the rug out from under me, as a reader, by not actually being that at all.
I read the first couple chapters of the other book I have (several books later in the series) which cemented for me that regardless of whether Haller is improving or devolving as a human being, the fact that he's changing is one of the things that appealed to me in the first book. Without that psychological aspect -- which was so fascinating, up until it wasn't -- my interest in watching Haller badger witnesses and play dirty tricks to get off his mostly guilty clients is ... not really there.
I've seen Connolly's name near the top of a number of "best crime/mystery writer" lists, but had never read any of his books, so I picked these up to give them a try. This book is an excellent case study in how to make a book about a basically unlikable narrator riveting. Mickey Haller, the protagonist, is a defense lawyer of the bottom-feeding ambulance-chaser variety. He takes clients on the basis of how much they can pay (and therefore frequently ends up representing career drug dealers, who tend to have a lot of ready cash around), and pulls any dirty trick he can think of to win, including emotionally destroying witnesses, lying to judges/prosecutors/his own clients, confidence-man tricks, suppressing evidence, and anything else he thinks he can get away with that won't cross the disbarment line.
The result is a fascinating read for the same reason heist and mobster fiction is. The author pulls you straight into Haller's vivid and well-depicted world. He's scum, in some ways, but he's extremely good at what he does; it's fun watching Haller pull the gears of the justice system, even if you occasionally want to punch him in the face, and the book also makes you think about the exigencies of the criminal justice system. Haller is scum, but he's necessary scum, because even the worst offenders need someone representing them. And the book draws you into the psychological underpinnings of what makes someone who really isn't a terrible guy (which Haller isn't) do what he does; as well as viewing his own role in the system as a necessary one (with justification), he's fascinated by the puzzle-solving aspect of his cases. It's a big game -- with each new client he looks for which levers he can pull to get them off.
Then, somewhere around the midpoint of the book, it begins to shift gears as Haller is brought face to face with the consequences of his own lack of scruples, and is forced to begin making moral decisions involving actual guilt and innocence, with potentially devastating consequences for the handful of people he actually cares about.
As a thriller, this book is really, really good. It hooks you with a vividly detailed portrait of Haller's wheeler-dealer world, and then at some point actually makes you start caring about him as a human being. When the pieces of the puzzle start clicking together, everything is fast-paced and well-crafted. I devoured most of this book in a single day.
And yet.
The entire book is not precisely Haller's redemption arc, but it is at least partly about Haller examining himself and trying to decide if this what he wants to do with his life, and then the ending ...
.... the ending is a total reset to zero and "well, hey, I guess this is the first book in a series so we can't let anyone grow or change, can we?"
I'm not saying I expected the book to end with Haller becoming a better person; it could just as easily be part of a Walter White-style downward spiral. It's that kind of book. But it doesn't even read like that. It simply reads like no one in this book is allowed to grow or change because we've got X books under contract and therefore the next book needs to be able to pick up in roughly the same place as this one did so people can read them independently. And it frustrated me exceedingly because the rest of the book had read like a semi-realistic psychological portrait of a particular kind of person that then pulled the rug out from under me, as a reader, by not actually being that at all.
I read the first couple chapters of the other book I have (several books later in the series) which cemented for me that regardless of whether Haller is improving or devolving as a human being, the fact that he's changing is one of the things that appealed to me in the first book. Without that psychological aspect -- which was so fascinating, up until it wasn't -- my interest in watching Haller badger witnesses and play dirty tricks to get off his mostly guilty clients is ... not really there.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I hate those!
no subject
no subject
On which note, per Walter White: the other trend I don't love, relentless grimdark, and the persistent downward trend of a major character who's already gotten pretty damn terrible long before the halfway point in the series, in a cast full of also vile people who often aren't even likable villains, just giant jerkasses. (Jessica Jones, looking at you). I know a lot of people I respect who liked Breaking Bad, I was just like...I can see where this is going, kind of done already.
I've never read Michael Connolly. I keep almost reading him because I'm reaching for John Connolly instead.
Which, or rather who, speaking of "dark, granted, gets pretty fucking dark. Yet really well written, and I like supernatural in my mystery, anyway. And there's at least some character development, although after over a dozen books in the Charlie Parker series, there's a certain amount of diminishing returns to some of the plot, I find.
no subject
YES. In fact, I think that one reason why this threw me for a loop is because I just spent late summer/fall rereading the entire Matt Scudder series of murder mysteries, and one of the things I loved about it is that despite the formulaicness of the genre, it did allow the hero to grow and change and evolve out of his original status as a one-note hardboiled, hard-drinking private eye. I started off expecting this book would be similar, especially because I've heard so many good things about Michael Connolly as a writer. I went in with expectations that the book was delivering nicely, right up until it didn't, and then I ended up both annoyed and mildly betrayed.
I also haven't heard of John Connolly, so I will check those out! I, too, like supernatural in my mystery. :D
On which note, per Walter White: the other trend I don't love, relentless grimdark, and the persistent downward trend of a major character who's already gotten pretty damn terrible long before the halfway point in the series, in a cast full of also vile people who often aren't even likable villains, just giant jerkasses. (Jessica Jones, looking at you). I know a lot of people I respect who liked Breaking Bad, I was just like...I can see where this is going, kind of done already.
Ha. Yeah. I guess I should say, I'm familiar with Breaking Bad mainly because my husband loved it; I was mostly just around for osmosis. (Though actually we've watched a couple seasons of the prequel series and I do like it.) In general, it's not that I hate it in all cases, it's that I need to be in the right headspace for it. I appreciate well-written, twisty writing regardless of where it ends up. It's just that the last few years, particularly given real life developments, I've been more in the mood for fiction that has a general upward trend. The downbeat nature of the last couple of seasons of Jessica Jones (and the last season of Luke Cage) was very disappointing to me, especially after the first season seemed to promise something different.
no subject
I could not get into Breaking Bad even a little bit because I don't like supposedly intriguing male antiheroes, I lived for too long in Albuquerque and my family has terrible addiction issues. It was just three strikes no thanks.
no subject
no subject
no subject
One thing I really like about the Matthew Scudder books is that he changes. I remember my mind being blown over him starting out actively alcoholic and then joining AA and then being sober, because I was so accustomed to mystery series characters never changing.
no subject
no subject
I actually read The Brass Verdict (#2 in the Mickey Haller series that you are talking about) before I read the Lincoln Lawyer, because Harry Bosch is in it. He and Haller are half brothers who hardly know each other. However, with Harry being a detective and Haller a defense lawyer, they don't think very much of each other to start. Over the several books where they somewhat work together, they develop a grudging respect and then a more familial relationship. The Reversal, where Haller becomes a prosecutor and works more closely with Bosch was a favorite, as I DID see the psychological changes you were hoping for in the books you have.
It is totally possible that I liked the Haller books better because I read many of the Harry Bosch books first. Since Harry is such a stand-up guy, I figured Haller had to have SOMETHING going for him--even if it was buried deep down inside somewhere. LOL
Good luck with your reading! I always enjoy reading your opinions even though I don't often comment.
no subject
I think it might just be a case of not clicking with this series in specific, as opposed to not enjoying the author. I absolutely adored my reread of the Matt Scudder books, but suspect I might bounce off Block's other series, because from what I remember -- having read a bunch of them in my teens -- they're entertaining but formulaic/unchanging in the exact way I had a problem with here; Scudder is an exception. So the problem might just be that I started at a bad point in Connolly's ouevre to fit with what I want to read right now. He's an excellent writer, and I admired the craft in this book very much; I just didn't get the arc I wanted out of it. But from the sound of things, I might find his other books much more to my liking. I will check them out!
no subject
no subject