April Smith, “Judas Horse”

It’s very clear from April Smith’s White Shotgun that she’s a talented writer with a gift for plot, setting, and character. It was thus interesting – and a little disappointing – to learn from her preceding novel Judas Horse that these gifts alone aren’t quite enough to build a satisfying suspense novel. The two missing elements were organization and narrative voice. (Happily, White Shotgun puts these essentials in place.)

Not a Judas horse but a wild mustang

Judas Horse introduces us to Ana Grey, an FBI agent whose half-Salvadoran, half-Anglo heritage makes her a misfit in any setting and thus, in a twisted way, an ideal candidate for undercover work. Judas Horse is deeply concerned with questions of loyalty – guess you can tell from the title, huh? A Judas horse is actually a tame mare who is used as a decoy to lure herds of wild mustangs into corrals to be culled. In Smith’s novel, Ana Grey goes undercover to join a group of eco-terrorists who turn out to be … well, read it and see.

The problem is that Smith has enough material here for a novel and a half. I had a hard time keeping track of all  the characters, let alone keeping track of which side they were on. (Sometimes I had that woozy, baffled feeling you get in John LeCarré’s Tinker, Tailor series – but Smith isn’t quite in that league.) What’s more, Ana Grey dives into her cover character before we really grasp who she is as Ana, and the flashbacks to her unhappy youthful relationships feel cursory. If you can’t follow the characters you can’t follow the plot, though it was always clear something was going to blow up.

And then there’s the aforesaid voice. Judas Horse is narrated by Ana, in the present tense. But from time to time, Smith shifts away from Ana, and even into the past. This may be a conscious attempt to break away from the conventions of the thriller. But Smith, according to her website, is a screen writer and I wonder if she isn’t more accustomed to a narrative form that relies heavily on images to convey information. Her visual imagination means that the settings in rural Oregon are vividly described, but I’m literal-minded enough to feel unmoored when a first-person narrative leaves the reliable and familiar “I” to visit another character’s experience and thoughts. Of course it’s sometimes difficult to provide your readers with essential information when you’re writing in the first person – but isn’t that why they pay us the big bucks? (Joke, OK?)

And while I’m griping, I agree with Chelsea who pointed out on the White Shotgun post that “Sterling McCord” is a terrible name for Ana’s  fellow spy/love interest (is that the name of a car? perfume? preppy clothing brand?). But this is just nitpicking. I’m certainly going to keep my eye on Ana Grey.

Stieg Larsson, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”

December 6, 2008

So I bought this on Amazon, tacked it onto another purchase because they suggested I would like it.  Affinity marketing is getting better and better, right?  Besides, the cover is gorgeous—and it’s selling really well.  And the last best-selling mystery I bought at Amazon’s suggestion was the glorious In the Woods by Tana French.

First of all, it’s in hardcover.  Not a dealbreaker but an annoyance since I do much of my reading on the subway.  Fortunately I got through most of it on the plane from San Diego to New York.

Second, the translation’s bad.  I’ve made it through a few of Henning Mankell’s mysteries and I’m now hacking my way through  Per Petterson’s Out Stealing Horses and I wonder what it is about Scandinavian translators.  Is it that they all learn very correct but lifeless English?  And I suppose we  native English-speakers just don’t learn Swedish or Norwegian, assuming (perhaps correctly) that there’s not much of a living in translating Scandinavian fiction.

Except in this case.  It takes Larsson (a former journalist) close to 100 pages to set up his plot in all its complexity.  The protagonist is a financial journalist, the girl of the title is a waiflike computer hacker with Asperger’s.  This unlikely duo – can’t you just see the movie posters? – unmask a mass murderer and bring down a corrupt financial empire but it all seems to happen under water, somehow.  My favorite part was a few pages at the end when the waif performs some legerdemain involving bank accounts in Zurich: but then I realized I really prefer John LeCarré anyway.