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gregbrown's review against another edition
5.0
Astounding achievement, and a much-needed course-correction from the suffocating racism and aimlessness of the second entry, THE COLD SIX THOUSAND. Not quite as staccato as the first two entries, Ellroy still has his pleasurably dense style here but in a way that, to me, read more enjoyably.
Helping matters are several strong plot through-lines: for the first two Ellroy could let looming assassinations carry the action through to the end, but for this one it's a big, superbly-constructed mystery that does the job. Helping and hindering the reader are the most varied set of characters in the series, including the most fleshed-out women so far.
It doesn't quite have AMERICAN TABLOID's vibe of grappling with capital-H History writ large, but I think BLOOD'S a stronger book on the whole. And while SIX THOUSAND was kind of a misfire, the other two are some of my favorite novels I've ever read, and Ellroy long overdue for critical elevation.
Helping matters are several strong plot through-lines: for the first two Ellroy could let looming assassinations carry the action through to the end, but for this one it's a big, superbly-constructed mystery that does the job. Helping and hindering the reader are the most varied set of characters in the series, including the most fleshed-out women so far.
It doesn't quite have AMERICAN TABLOID's vibe of grappling with capital-H History writ large, but I think BLOOD'S a stronger book on the whole. And while SIX THOUSAND was kind of a misfire, the other two are some of my favorite novels I've ever read, and Ellroy long overdue for critical elevation.
jakewritesbooks's review against another edition
4.0
The conclusion of James Ellroy’s Underworld USA trilogy is probably not the best work of is but it may be one of my favorites.
If you haven’t followed along with my reviews, allow me some framing: I have a weird relationship with James Ellroy’s books. LA noirs and overarching American conspiracy are definitely my thing. But for years, I wasn’t able to connect with Ellroy’s style. Not necessarily his writing style, per se, though that often leaves something to be desired. Rather, Ellroy reads were tough for me because of their rampant, unapologetic cynicism. Every character was little more than their motives and entire people seemed to exist to sprout exposition and then be killed or do something transgressively sexual.
But then November 8, 2016 happened. And I gave into a heavy dose of cynicism myself. Last summer, I picked up The Cold Six-Thousand and was surprised at how quickly I devoured it. I then switched to Perfidia, which was one of the best things I read last year. Furiously, I made my way through his original LA quartet and now back to this in order to finish both.
This is no different from other Ellroy’s in terms of plot: the peek behind the curtain of the compromised men and women who do bad things for those with more power than they have. But there is a maturity to Ellroy’s style that wasn’t here in TC6T. It’s almost as if he wants us to appreciate these characters in a way he hasn’t otherwise done so before. Because I was able to connect with them, feel their joys/pains/struggles. Perhaps it’s because rigging the 68 election or an attempt to build mob casinos in the DR isn’t as compelling as political assassination but by having lesser stories, I became closer with the people who lived them. There’s a lot of tragedy here and Ellroy deals with it honestly.
Of course, this is still Ellroy so racism and homophobia are rampant, as well as a plot that hurtles itself off the interstate at every opportunity (though this one is easier to follow than others). Still, I appreciated what he was doing here and the stories he told through these people.
If you haven’t followed along with my reviews, allow me some framing: I have a weird relationship with James Ellroy’s books. LA noirs and overarching American conspiracy are definitely my thing. But for years, I wasn’t able to connect with Ellroy’s style. Not necessarily his writing style, per se, though that often leaves something to be desired. Rather, Ellroy reads were tough for me because of their rampant, unapologetic cynicism. Every character was little more than their motives and entire people seemed to exist to sprout exposition and then be killed or do something transgressively sexual.
But then November 8, 2016 happened. And I gave into a heavy dose of cynicism myself. Last summer, I picked up The Cold Six-Thousand and was surprised at how quickly I devoured it. I then switched to Perfidia, which was one of the best things I read last year. Furiously, I made my way through his original LA quartet and now back to this in order to finish both.
This is no different from other Ellroy’s in terms of plot: the peek behind the curtain of the compromised men and women who do bad things for those with more power than they have. But there is a maturity to Ellroy’s style that wasn’t here in TC6T. It’s almost as if he wants us to appreciate these characters in a way he hasn’t otherwise done so before. Because I was able to connect with them, feel their joys/pains/struggles. Perhaps it’s because rigging the 68 election or an attempt to build mob casinos in the DR isn’t as compelling as political assassination but by having lesser stories, I became closer with the people who lived them. There’s a lot of tragedy here and Ellroy deals with it honestly.
Of course, this is still Ellroy so racism and homophobia are rampant, as well as a plot that hurtles itself off the interstate at every opportunity (though this one is easier to follow than others). Still, I appreciated what he was doing here and the stories he told through these people.
heavenlyspit's review against another edition
dark
funny
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
monty_reads's review against another edition
4.0
Ellroy needs to be experienced by everyone at least once. His prose is like a shot of pure adrenalin – it makes the hard-boiled noir of Hammett and Chandler look as ornate and ostentatious as Austen and Brönte. The plot of Blood's a Rover is almost beside the point – it's the third part of a trilogy that does audacious, exciting things with American history. In this case we get Howard Hughes' takeover of Vegas; the aftermath of the JFK, RFK, and MLK assassinations; political revolution in the Dominican Republic and Haiti; J. Edgar Hoover's paranoia of Communists and black militant groups; and a little dose of voodoo to spice things up. Ellroy's stuff is as thrilling as anything I've ever read, and this book is another in his unbroken string of unqualified successes.
jasonchamb's review against another edition
4.0
Not for the fainthearted. Brutal but pretty damn great.
grs909's review against another edition
2.0
This book was a chore to read. Ellroy's writing style wears me out.
captainfez's review against another edition
4.0
Well, JFK, MLK and RFK were all dead by the time this book began, so I was wondering where it would go. Who else could be offed? Thankfully, foreign casino insurgency and a gem heist gone to shit allow Ellroy the chance to work some of his favourite characters (requisite dirty cops, Sal Mineo and Sonny Liston, mysterious double agents, the Mob) into something which isn't quite as weighed down by history as the preceding books in the trilogy.
The gem heist - and where the gems lead - provides a neat small-scale tableau to provide a break from the Nixon and Hoover machinations. As with the search for rogue drug dealer Durfee in a previous volume, the smaller crime has echoes in the larger political sphere. This time around though, it seems more - human. There's a very penitential streak running through the book, with both Dwight Holly and Wayne Tedrow Jr seeking some kind of forgiveness for the heinous shit they've wrangled over the last couple of decades.
The text is as telegraphic as ever, but enlivened by a greater black cast: it's almost blaxploitation at times - what it is, brother! - but it's less caricatured as portrayals elsewhere in Ellroy's work. There's a neat study of black power movements here, even if they end up looking almost as big a bunch of dickheads as the chaw-spittin' Klan members do. It's an interesting change.
Also of interest is the portrayal of the decline of J. Edgar Hoover. You could argue that Hoover has been the main character of the Underworld USA trilogy - all roads lead to him. He is the invisible hand behind the work of the main characters, and he's a national-importance character. He's a terrible bastard, but by the end of this book I found the portrait of his frailty and his diminishing powers quite touching. I suspect Ellroy had a soft spot for the guy after so long crafting a crew to do his bidding.
Perhaps I'm reading a little much into it - probably understandable after shotgunning the autobiographical My Dark Places and The Hilliker Curse in one go - but there seems to be much more of Ellroy in this book. Sure, the whole cherchez la femme thing is here. But that's usual. What I'm talking about is the figure of Don Crutchfield, a pimply wheelman who comes of age through some truly heinous banana republic tasks. He's a peeper, a spy, looking for an elusive mother. He watches, he steals, he plans. He wants something better than he is. It just feels like Ellroy - Peeper Crutchfield, who knows much more than he's saying.
I can dig it.
The ending of Blood's A Rover was both satisfying and unsatisfying. It completed its own story arc pretty well - messily, but well. There's even elements of hope, of human perseverance which are a new note in the Ellroy songbook. But in terms of the Underworld USA trilogy, it seemed more of a whimper than a bang. Lots of stuff happens, but there's a real sense of... fizzling, I suppose.
But I guess that feeling of ennui, of things lost and a grim future is what Ellroy has in mind. It's certainly not accidental. Let's face it - we're leaving the story in a world where Nixon is prez and Watergate is just around the corner. Figures of control are losing their collective grip, and the general tone is grim. Given the times and the players, how could it be otherwise?
It's been a long, grim ride where men are men and women are dispensable - assuming they're not cooze or operatives, though that's no guarantee - and I guess I'm a bit sad it's all over. It feels like I've had almost thirty years of bloody US history uploaded to my brain... and I suppose that's not far from the truth.
The gem heist - and where the gems lead - provides a neat small-scale tableau to provide a break from the Nixon and Hoover machinations. As with the search for rogue drug dealer Durfee in a previous volume, the smaller crime has echoes in the larger political sphere. This time around though, it seems more - human. There's a very penitential streak running through the book, with both Dwight Holly and Wayne Tedrow Jr seeking some kind of forgiveness for the heinous shit they've wrangled over the last couple of decades.
The text is as telegraphic as ever, but enlivened by a greater black cast: it's almost blaxploitation at times - what it is, brother! - but it's less caricatured as portrayals elsewhere in Ellroy's work. There's a neat study of black power movements here, even if they end up looking almost as big a bunch of dickheads as the chaw-spittin' Klan members do. It's an interesting change.
Also of interest is the portrayal of the decline of J. Edgar Hoover. You could argue that Hoover has been the main character of the Underworld USA trilogy - all roads lead to him. He is the invisible hand behind the work of the main characters, and he's a national-importance character. He's a terrible bastard, but by the end of this book I found the portrait of his frailty and his diminishing powers quite touching. I suspect Ellroy had a soft spot for the guy after so long crafting a crew to do his bidding.
Perhaps I'm reading a little much into it - probably understandable after shotgunning the autobiographical My Dark Places and The Hilliker Curse in one go - but there seems to be much more of Ellroy in this book. Sure, the whole cherchez la femme thing is here. But that's usual. What I'm talking about is the figure of Don Crutchfield, a pimply wheelman who comes of age through some truly heinous banana republic tasks. He's a peeper, a spy, looking for an elusive mother. He watches, he steals, he plans. He wants something better than he is. It just feels like Ellroy - Peeper Crutchfield, who knows much more than he's saying.
I can dig it.
The ending of Blood's A Rover was both satisfying and unsatisfying. It completed its own story arc pretty well - messily, but well. There's even elements of hope, of human perseverance which are a new note in the Ellroy songbook. But in terms of the Underworld USA trilogy, it seemed more of a whimper than a bang. Lots of stuff happens, but there's a real sense of... fizzling, I suppose.
But I guess that feeling of ennui, of things lost and a grim future is what Ellroy has in mind. It's certainly not accidental. Let's face it - we're leaving the story in a world where Nixon is prez and Watergate is just around the corner. Figures of control are losing their collective grip, and the general tone is grim. Given the times and the players, how could it be otherwise?
It's been a long, grim ride where men are men and women are dispensable - assuming they're not cooze or operatives, though that's no guarantee - and I guess I'm a bit sad it's all over. It feels like I've had almost thirty years of bloody US history uploaded to my brain... and I suppose that's not far from the truth.
thomasroche's review against another edition
1.0
So... what started off as a brilliantly innovative storytelling style in [b:American Tabloid|36064|American Tabloid (Underworld USA, #1)|James Ellroy|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1403181563s/36064.jpg|35975] has become a spoogy mess. As far as I can tell, Ellroy no longer cares about creating characters I give a shit about. Worse, as he loses all creative speed, he tries to liven up the dull slog of his faux-poetic crime-novel patois by inserting diary pages in the voices of a female character and a black character. Both are nothing short of hideously offensive in their tone-deaf attempt to recreate the internal landscape of classes of people I increasingly gather Ellroy really does hold in contempt. I'm a bit embarrassed, frankly, for having tolerated what I now suspect is sub rosa racism and misogyny for so many years, writing it off as an attempt to engage in authoritative storytelling about a racist, misogynist world. Now, after experiencing this overwrought apocalypse, I'm left with the horrible realization that maybe James Ellroy's recent books really are about finding excuses for him to say the N-word. He's like Quentin Tarantino without any joy de vivre. It's gotten old.
richardwells's review against another edition
3.0
Some kind of cross between William S. Burroughs and Hunter Thompson, James Ellroy is possessed by the devil of genius. Part three of his American Gangster Trilogy might even be uglier than parts one and two. Characters return, as do crosses, double-crosses, grand-guignols of torture and murder, and half-assed attempts at redemption that only Old Nick would really appreciate. Ellroy's world is a mess, and though the book goes on way too long, and though I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, it's worth the read as a bit of Americana gone berserk.
mitvan's review against another edition
3.0
Part three in the American Tabloid trilogy. Not quite as good as the other two as the story seems to run out of steam but still an interesting tale set around Haiti, LA, Manson, Nixon, Civil Rights and the Mafia.