Review of Mucho Mojo by Joe Lansdale (1994, Indigo)

When Charlie Pine dies, his nephew Leonard Pine, a black manual labourer in East Texas, inherits his house and estate. Leonard moves into the property, asking his white best friend, Hap Collins, to join him. The neighbourhood has gone to seed and the next door property is a crack house. Leonard and Hap get off to a rocky start, tangling with drug dealers, but worse is to come when they discover the skeleton of a boy and child porn under the floorboards. Over the years a number of children have gone missing and the police have Charlie pegged as their abductor and killer. Leonard and Hap are not convinced. They think that Charlie had fulfilled his lifelong ambition to play detective, but had died before he could pin the crimes on the real perpetrator. They start to investigate, swapping information with a black detective who sees an opportunity to put a feather in his cap by apprehending a serial killer. But catching the real killer is not straightforward. And it’s a good job that Leonard and Hap can take care of themselves as this case might otherwise be the death of them.

I first read Mucho Mojo in 1996. I picked it up in a bookshop in Carryduff in Northern Ireland. I read it in a couple of sittings, captivated by the tale of Hap and Leonard turning detectives in an East Texas town, and by Lansdale’s storytelling style. The tale is told from the perspective of Hap Collins, a middle aged, white field worker, who is best friends with Leonard Pine, a tough, queer black man. The style is as a reminiscence, a kind of porch-told recounting of a mystery adventure. The story is infused with dark humour, with a nicely spun plot that has a mix of detection, romance and lost love, violent confrontations, and social commentary on race, religion, family and poverty in the Deep South. Reading it again more than twenty years later it has lost none of it vitality or social relevance, the storytelling and plot are still captivating, and Hap and Leonard are alive on the page; in my view one of the best double acts in contemporary fiction. A wonderful, entertaining read.

Review of Rusty Puppy by Joe R. Lansdale (Mulholland, 2017)

With his partner, Brett, and his newly discovered daughter, Chance, bed-bound with flu, Hap is hoping to continue recovering from a near fatal stab wound in peace. However, that proves a short-lived hope after Louise Elton visits the private investigation firm owned by Brett. Louise wants the firm to investigate the death of her son, Jamar, who she believes was beaten to death by rogue cops who also abused her daughter. Hap heads to the local projects to investigate, joined by his old-time partner, Leonard Pine. While Hap likes to try and be diplomatic when poking around, Leonard has a short fuse that tends to quickly escalate to violence. The locals are not happy with their presence, but the cops are even more hostile. It appears that Louise’s fears are well-founded, with the local police chief not only administering the law but also running organized crime. Which means seeking justice is going to be far from straightforward.
Rusty Puppy is the twelfth instalment of the Hap and Leonard series set in East Texas. In this outing they investigate the death of a young black man and tussle with a set of rogue cops who like to run both the law and crime. As usual, the pleasure of the read is the camaraderie and banter between two tough guys - Hap, a poor white man and his best friend, Leonard, a black, gay man with a trigger temper - who fight the battles of people who’ve been wronged; the larger-than-life characterisation in general (in this case, Reba – the four hundred year old vampire midget locked in the body of a child is a wonderful creation); and Lansdale’s voice and sparkling dialogue. As with each tale, Hap and Leonard trade insults and blows with their adversaries, as well as anyone else who finds themselves in the way, eventually reaching a bloody and hard-won, though rarely neat, resolution. In this sense, Rusty Puppy has all the usual Lansdale ingredients. However, the mystery in this outing is very straightforward and the conspiracy at the heart of the tale is so wide-open, involving dozens of people, one wonders why it wasn’t common knowledge beyond the local community and already being tackled by the media and wider law-enforcement. And there’s an inevitability about the denouement. Nonetheless, it’s still a fun read that rattles along to entertaining effect with all the usual Hap and Leonard wit and scraps.

Review of Honky Tonk Samurai by Joe Lansdale (2016, Mulholland Books)

Always ready to stand up for those that need help, Hap and Leonard intervene to save a dog from a beating.  From across the street an old woman films them letting the owner know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a thrashing.  Their friend and employer, Marvin, shows up and reveals he’s the new chief of police.  Given his new job he needs to sell on his private investigator business and he figures Hap and Leonard are the perfect buyers.  Having worked manual, casual jobs for years they’re not so sure, but Brett, Hap’s partner is fed up of nursing and wants to give it a go.  Their first day as the new owners the old woman who filmed them shows up wanting them to find her granddaughter, Sandy, who disappeared five years earlier, using the film to negotiate a hefty discount.  After taking a journalism degree, Sandy went to work at a classic car dealership that appears to be a front for organised crime.  Hap and Leonard take on the case and soon stir-up a hornet’s nest.  This time they might have taken on more than they can chew, but as usual their determined to administer their own brand of justice.

Honky Tonk Samurai is the eleventh book in the Hap and Leonard series.  It has the same hallmarks as the earlier books: a witches brew of colourful characters, crackling dialogue, strong action sequences, and a decent sense of place and context.  And as usual, the real pleasure is in the likeable characters of Hap and Leonard and their relationship, and Lansdale’s unique voice.  However, for me, the tale and the telling didn’t quite live up to earlier outings, especially the first few books.  The story was linear and involved little detective work, and elements of the plot didn’t seem to sit quite right.  Whereas the other books are tightly paced in this outing there are some sizable chunks of dialogue that little move the story forward (even the characters tell each other to stop rambling).  The result is an undulating plot of lulls between some nice action set pieces.  Moreover, some main characters and key aspects of the story remain off-stage.  My sense was too much of the plot was about setting Hap and Leonard up in the private investigation business, moving new characters into their personal lives, and reuniting them with characters from earlier in the series.  Nonetheless, Lansdale’s brilliant way with words and the usual hallmarks makes Honky Tonk Samurai an entertaining and enjoyable read.

Review of A Fine Dark Line by Joe Lansdale (Phoenix, 2003)

The summer of 1958, Dewmont, East Texas, and thirteen year old Stanley Mitchel is about to graduate from being an innocent boy who spends his days reading comics and playing with his dog, Nub, to murder detective.  Whilst playing behind the drive-in movie theatre recently purchased by his parents he discovers a metal box half buried in the soil next to a burnt down mansion.  Inside are letters between J and M.  Stanley learns that thirteen years earlier, on the same evening, two young girls died: Margret, the daughter of a prostitute was beheaded on the nearby train tracks, and Jewel, the pregnant daughter of the richest man in town, died when her house was set on fire, the rest of her family, including her brother, James, surviving.  Enlisting the help of Buster Lighthorse Smith, a retired Indian Reservation policeman, who works as the drive-in projectionist and lives in the black part of town, Stanley starts to investigate the two deaths.  His actions, however, set in motion more than he bargained for, leading to a set of terrifying events that will live long in the memory.

A Fine Dark Line is a coming of age tale set over the summer of 1958 in town of Dewmont, East Texas, and if I read a better book this year it’ll be an exceptional tale.  I’m a long time fan of Joe Lansdale.  His writing is consistently good and he regularly hits it out of the park.  This is one of those occasions.  The story is told as a reminiscence, the text effectively the script of a porch-told tale.  The voice is pitch perfect and Lansdale drops the reader into the world of an innocent thirteen year old boy living in a liberal family in a socially and racially divided society as he learns of the world’s various vices, some of its terrors, and how to survive them.  The characterisation is excellent, especially Stanley, his older sister, Callie, the black housekeeper Rosy Mae, and the projectionist and former cop, Buster Lighthorse Smith, and there’s a clear sense of character development as the story unfolds.  Where the tale really excels is the sense of place and time, and the plot.  The initial hook is strong and Lansdale then reveals a number of monsters, each of whom is a credible murderer and threatens Stanley and his family.  The result is a taut, tense mystery that is vividly told and keeps the reader engaged and guessing until the final page.  I thought it was a wonderful, poignant and riveting read.

Review of The Thicket by Joe Lansdale (Mulholland Books, 2013)

Jack Parker has just turned sixteen when his mother and father die from small pox on their East Texas farm.  His grandfather arrives to take him and his younger sister, Lula, to an aunt in Kansas.  Not long after setting off they run into Cut Throat Bill and his gang, who have just robbed a bank.  The gang murder Jack’s grandfather and kidnap his younger sister.  Jack makes his way to the nearest town to find the sheriff, who killed when the bank was robbed.  Determined to rescue his sister he turns to two bounty hunters, the charismatic dwarf, Shorty, and his partner, Eustace, the son of a slave, offering them the deeds to his parent’s and grandfather’s land in return for help.  The three of them set off in pursuit, picking up Jimmie-Sue, a young prostitute seeking to leave the profession, and Winton, another sheriff interested in the bounty on capturing Cut Throat Bill’s gang, dead or alive.  Tracking, Fatty, one of Bill’s gang, they home in on their quarry, hoping that Lula is still alive and they can rescue her whilst maintaining their own health.

Set just as oil is being discovered in Texas and the first cars are bumping along unpaved roads, The Thicket is an adventure yarn that is a mix of Tom Sawyer, Stand by Me and True Grit, with a solid dose of the comic, dark humour that populates Lansdale's Hap and Leonard books.  The strengths of the tale is its voice, characterisation, sense of place and time, and plot.  The story is told as a form of a reminiscence through a very engaging narrator’s voice that makes it feel as if it’s the transcript of porch-told tale.  Jack Parker is a wonderful character, just on the cusp of becoming an adult, but still naive and unworldly, though brave and determined.  And Lansdale puts in his company a colourful band of bounty hunters, who are ranged against an equally colourful band of dispicable villians.  The plot is a boys own adventure with a large dose of spice and grit, that is perfectly paced with the right balance of action and reflection, and the reader is placed into the landscape of East Texas in the early twentieth century and its social relations and rhythms.  Overall, Lansdale is on fine form and The Thicket is a thoroughly enjoyable escapist yarn.

When I grow up I want to write like ...

Joe R Lansdale.  I'm presently reading Edge of Dark Water, Lansdale's latest book.  It is very much in the mold of his excellent, The Bottoms.  The prose is simply mouthwatering.  The man writes as if he's telling a yarn on the back porch.  To you personally.  He writes great dialogue and drops you right into the landscape.  And he can do a sense of foreboding very well.  I've been looking at his writing and it's deceptively simple.  There's few fancy words, the sentences are short and tight and it's all show and no tell.  I should be able to write like this.  Yet somehow there's more going on.  I think what it is, is that he writes in a very verbal way.  He has a very strong, engaging voice.  I'm sure the audio version would be excellent.  If you haven't given him a go, you should.  Start with The Bottoms.  Definitely one of my top five favourite authors.

Review of Devil Red by Joe Lansdale (Knopf, 2011)

Marvin Hanson has started a private investigation company employing Hap and Leonard as operatives, with the hope that they might work their way up to detectives. Mostly he has them doing odd jobs, supplying muscle and heat where required. When an elderly lady commissions Hanson to investigate the cold case of her murdered son, Hap and Leonard are charged with sticking their noses where they’re not wanted, a task they are more than qualified to undertake. What they discover is a series of murders connected by a red devil motif and a whole lot of trouble.

Devil Red has all of Lansdale’s trademark writing – cracking dialogue, fast pacing, a motley crew of colourful characters, a dash of slapstick, and a hook and drag ‘em storyline. And it has, for my money at least, the most enjoyable double act in contemporary crime fiction, Hap Collins and Leonard Pine. The start to Devil Red is excellent as usual, and the narrative rattles along from there. The end, however, comes too soon and too easily, and the book felt about 30-40 pages too short, missing a couple of twists and turns along the way. This was a shame as it really was a five star read up until the closing scenes, with the pages flying by. That said, Devil Red does little to alter my opinion that Lansdale is one of the best crime writers plying his trade at the minute and if he keeps writing them, I’ll keep reading them.

Review of Vanilla Ride by Joe Lansdale (2009, Vintage Crime)

One of Hap Collins and Leonard Pine’s old friends needs a favour – his granddaughter has fallen in with a gang of drug dealers and her boyfriend beats her. He’d snatch her back and put her in rehab himself except for his health and the fact that he’d be taking on a gang of much younger and fitter men. Hap and Leonard might be getting on themselves, but they’re still reasonably fit and they have the confidence of surviving for years through their wits and violence. Grabbing the girl is eventful, but works out fine. Unfortunately, by flushing a valuable the drugs down the toilet, they annoy those above the bottom feeders – the Dixie Mafia. To assert their authority they need to make an example of Hap and Leonard, only they’ve badly under-estimated the task. After a bloody street battle, Hap and Leonard find themselves in jail facing charges, but there’s an offer on the table – to track down the wayward son of a Dixie member. They agree to the job, but it’s soon clear that they are not the only ones seeking the son, the Dixie Mafia still want them dead, and the legendary assassin, Vanilla Ride, is on their trail.

If Lansdale could churn out a daily dose of Hap and Leonard stories, I could quite happily read nothing but them and be satisfied. In my view, Hap and Leonard are the best double act in crime fiction today, and Lansdale the best proponent of comic crime. I loved Vanilla Ride from the first page to the last - my jaw ached from grinning so much. The writing is excellent – expressive, taut, quick paced, funny – and the dialogue is first class. The characterisation is a little caricaturish at times, but that goes with the territory with these kinds of novels. The plot is well constructed and it would easily translate to the big screen. I’ve nothing bad to say about it. If you have a rough and ready sense of humour then read this book – you won’t regret it.

Saturday Snippet: Vanilla Ride by Joe Lansdale

I picked up a copy of Vanilla Ride by Joe Lansdale this afternoon and boy am I looking forward to reading it. Hap Collins and Leonard Pine are two of my favourite characters. If you haven't tried one of their stories then make haste to your nearest store or fire up Amazon, Book Depository, or whoever you use and get your mitts on one. The man sure can write. Here's the opening few lines of Vanilla Ride.

I hadn't been shot at in a while, and no-one had hit me in the head for a whole month or two. It was kind of a record, and I was starting to feel special.

Brett and I were upstairs in our little rented house, lying in bed, breathing hard, having just arrived at the finish line of a slow, sweet race that at times can seem like a competitive sport, but when played right, even when you're the last to arrive, can make you feel like a winner.

In that moment, life was good.

Brett sat up and fluffed her pillow behind her back and pushed her long bloodred hair to the side with one hand, shoved her chest forward in a way that made me feel mighty lucky, said, "I haven't had that much fun since I pistol-whipped a redheaded midget."

I'm only a few pages in, but the writing is tight, dry and witty, with great banter. A couple more lines.

Used to, you could leave your wallet on the porch swing and no one would bother it. These days, you left a cheese grater out, someone would steal the holes.

And:

Leonard said, "Man you could have at least put on pants. That robe is a little too peekaboo."

"My motto," I said, "is if you've got it, flaunt it."

"What you're flauntin' is enough to make a man turn a gun on himself," Leonard said.

Opening lines

This post was prompted by a piece yesterday by Jose over at The Game's Afoot about opening first lines. I thought I'd post some opening lines by one of my favourite authors, Joe Lansdale, who always has strong openings to his novels.

It was July and hot and I was putting out sticks and not thinking one whit about murder.
Mucho Mojo (1994)

When I got over to Leonard's Christmas Eve night, he had the Kentucky Headhunters turned way up over at his place, and they were singing "The Ballad of Davy Crockett," and Leonard, in a kind of Christmas celebration, was once again setting fire to the house next door.
The Two-Bear Mambo (1995)

When you grow up in a place, especially if your childhood is a good one, you fail to notice a lot of the nasty things that creep beneath the surface and wriggle about like hungry worms in rotten flesh.
Leather Maiden (2008)

On the afternoon it rained frogs, sun perch, and minnows, Sunset discovered she could take a beating good as Three-Fingered Jack.
Sunset and Sawdust (2004)

It was mid-April when I got home from the offshore rig and discovered my good friend Leonard Pine had lost his job bouncing drunks at the Hot Cat Club because, in a moment of anger, when he had a bad ass on the ground out back of the place, he'd flopped his tool and pissed on the rowdy's head.
Bad Chilli (1997)

Bill Roberts decided to rob the firecracker stand on account he didn't have a job and not a nickel's worth of money and his mother was dead and kind of freeze-dried in her bedroom.
Freezer Burn (1999)

Review of Leather Maiden by Joe Lansdale (Vintage Crime, 2008)

Cason Statler was nominated for a Pulitzer for his journalism but indiscretions with the newspaper boss’ wife and step-daughter led to the door, and after a bit of bumming around he joined the military post 9/11 and ended up in Iraq. Discharged he’s drifted back to the small East Texas town of Camp Rapture to take up a post as columnist for the local paper. Still haunted by the ghosts of the past, he drinks too much and stalks his ex-wife, trying to find a rhythm to a life out of sync. On the computer he’s inherited from the previous columnist he finds a story concerning a beautiful college student who disappeared six months previously on a late night run to a fast-food restaurant. Sensing possibilities for a couple of follow-up columns he starts to investigate the young woman’s life to find himself soon drawn into a web of deceit, blackmail and murder.

Joe Lansdale has long been one of my favourite authors and Leather Maiden confirms why. His stories are earthy, fecund, and often dark, exploring the underbelly of society. Delivered in a back-porch storytelling style, he expertly immerses the reader in East Texan landscape and its peoples. There’s no better person at writing noir with a comic twist. He’s particularly good at portraying colourful characters that teeter on the edge of normality, yet making them seem everyday rather than caricature. And the dialogue, as per usual, is to die for: the conversations crackle off the page (the verbal battles between Cason and his editor are particularly entertaining). The pacing is spot-on and the plotting well conceived, although it gets a little pedestrian after the halfway point and the ending was a little telegraphed and flat. Whilst not quite as strong as some of his other works (the bar is set damn high), this is nevertheless superior stuff. I can’t wait now to get hold of Vanilla Ride in which Hap and Leonard, the most compelling partnership in contemporary fiction, return after a number of years.