A Time of Torment by John Connolly (Hodder & Stoughton, paperback/hardback)
What can I say?
That I’ve read every one of John Connolly’s Charlie Parker books?
That I await the new ones avidly?
That I’m a fan?
I guess that last one is self-evident, given the truth of the first two statements.
Including this new one and a novella, there are fifteen Charlie Parker stories. I’ve liked them all, some – it has to be said – more than others.
This one, for me, is up there with the best of them. Way up there.
And not just books in Connolly’s own canon. This, for me, is one of the best in the genre I’ve read in a long, l-o-n-g while.
I’m on record as saying that many crime novels – and this is crime, don’t let that supernatural stuff fool ya – are simply too damn long. There are times when I feel as if I’m wading through more padding than the Playtex stockroom. I’m not going to name names here, so don’t ask.
I did not have that problem here, despite this book being almost 500 pages long.
Okay, let’s accept that there are themes at play through the series. If you were unkind you might say there’s a formula. An isolated community. Really bad villains. Something nasty not just in the woodpile but lurking behind every page.
But I don’t care.
And anyway, the same accusation can be levelled at us all.
Connolly’s books have an epic quality to them that others lack. His characters step off the page and walk around the room while you read. You can almost see Louis running his fingers along the dust on your bookshelves.
And Connolly can write.
Oh, boy, can he write.
I hate him.
Let me give you an example of how good it is. There’s a long section well into the book where Connolly takes us into his isolated community – in this case The Cut – and introduces various characters, some villainous, some not.
So?
The point is, Charlie Parker – Connolly’s hero, our guy, the central character – vanishes from the story for the entirety of that section.
Some writing tutors tell you that’s as big a no-no as saying that you admire Trump’s hairstyle. You do not move your protagonist – look at me, talking like I know something – from the spine of your story. And yet, here’s Connolly doing just that.
And you know what?
It works.
Because the writing, the storytelling, is so damn good.
I mentioned I hate him, didn’t I?