Scan barcode
zzzrevel's review against another edition
3.0
I made the big mistake of reading this one immediately
after John Blake #1. Some distance between the two
reads would have been better, because this way I
just saw that #2 was SO SIMILAR to #1 that it
really made me quite angry. In #2 once again
a girl Blake loved is dead, once again he has to
avenge her death, once again there is the big bad
hulking bad guy(s); once again he gets beat up,
captured, let go. It's all like in #1.
Another problem I had is that there are several
references to #1. Not quite spoilers but I would
not want to have ever read #2 before going back
to read #1.
The difference between the two is the ending,
except (as in #1)you can predict most of what
happens BEFORE the author (and narrator) tip to it.
I gave 3 stars to the first one, and almost did
not give three to the second just because of
the redundancy of plot. In the end I let it go.
after John Blake #1. Some distance between the two
reads would have been better, because this way I
just saw that #2 was SO SIMILAR to #1 that it
really made me quite angry. In #2 once again
a girl Blake loved is dead, once again he has to
avenge her death, once again there is the big bad
hulking bad guy(s); once again he gets beat up,
captured, let go. It's all like in #1.
Another problem I had is that there are several
references to #1. Not quite spoilers but I would
not want to have ever read #2 before going back
to read #1.
The difference between the two is the ending,
except (as in #1)you can predict most of what
happens BEFORE the author (and narrator) tip to it.
I gave 3 stars to the first one, and almost did
not give three to the second just because of
the redundancy of plot. In the end I let it go.
jakewritesbooks's review against another edition
3.0
There’s a reason why I don’t often revisit books I liked once upon a time: they’re probably not as good as I remember. When I reread stuff, it’s usually to either confirm or satisfy some sort of curiosity about the first dance I had with a book. Otherwise, I’d just as soon let it sit in my memory as I’d prefer.
I’ll probably never revisit “Richard Aleas”‘ (Charles Ardai’s) Little Girl Lost. It was one of my favorite books from 2010. I remember it being a thrilling mystery read as a lone detective scours the streets of Manhattan, protecting and defending female/femme sex workers along the way. I recall that I wanted to write books like that.
As much as I continue to try and look at that one through a sepia tone, my views on masculinity and sex work have change the last few years. I now realize that good intentions can still reinforce stereotypes and prejudices. Which is why my subconscious has probably prevented me from reading the sequel, as I’ve owned it for probably the better part of this decade as one in my Hard Case Crime collection.
However, I’m keeping to my once-a-month rule with HCC novels and since I’ve had a recent yen for New York stories, I decided to stop putting this one off.
The results are about what I expected. John Blake is a loner who mysteriously draws attractive women to him. Attractive women who also happen to be sex workers. He gets involved in a case of men doing dirty deeds to these women and needs to avenge them.
The worst version of books like this are the lantern jawed male PI a-holes who treat prostitutes as fallen angels and decry the system that grinds women to such a job without examining the male’s individual complicity in the system. A lot of those books exist.
This is almost the anti version of that, but in a similarly obnoxious way. It’s so try-hardy with how proud it is of its reformed views on sex work that it still can’t really see its female characters as anything more than pawns in a game. Tragedy is drawn to this man who has to do this thing and it involves this woman and blah, blah, blah. It’s better than the book I described in the last paragraph but it’s contributing to the same problem.
Especially with how it’s resolved. Don’t even get me started.
Ardai is a talented writer and there is one twist that happened which I genuinely did not see coming. He gets a lot of grace from me for making Hard Case Crime a thing. The label is one of my great joys as a book reader. But this one is a clunker.
I’ll probably never revisit “Richard Aleas”‘ (Charles Ardai’s) Little Girl Lost. It was one of my favorite books from 2010. I remember it being a thrilling mystery read as a lone detective scours the streets of Manhattan, protecting and defending female/femme sex workers along the way. I recall that I wanted to write books like that.
As much as I continue to try and look at that one through a sepia tone, my views on masculinity and sex work have change the last few years. I now realize that good intentions can still reinforce stereotypes and prejudices. Which is why my subconscious has probably prevented me from reading the sequel, as I’ve owned it for probably the better part of this decade as one in my Hard Case Crime collection.
However, I’m keeping to my once-a-month rule with HCC novels and since I’ve had a recent yen for New York stories, I decided to stop putting this one off.
The results are about what I expected. John Blake is a loner who mysteriously draws attractive women to him. Attractive women who also happen to be sex workers. He gets involved in a case of men doing dirty deeds to these women and needs to avenge them.
The worst version of books like this are the lantern jawed male PI a-holes who treat prostitutes as fallen angels and decry the system that grinds women to such a job without examining the male’s individual complicity in the system. A lot of those books exist.
This is almost the anti version of that, but in a similarly obnoxious way. It’s so try-hardy with how proud it is of its reformed views on sex work that it still can’t really see its female characters as anything more than pawns in a game. Tragedy is drawn to this man who has to do this thing and it involves this woman and blah, blah, blah. It’s better than the book I described in the last paragraph but it’s contributing to the same problem.
Especially with how it’s resolved. Don’t even get me started.
Ardai is a talented writer and there is one twist that happened which I genuinely did not see coming. He gets a lot of grace from me for making Hard Case Crime a thing. The label is one of my great joys as a book reader. But this one is a clunker.
chaos13delirium's review against another edition
4.0
This was a really fun book, written in the style of 50s pulp detective novels - only more so. This was a pretty sordid tale, not for the faint of heart;) It is a well-written mystery, the plot twists totally caught me off guard. The cover art is done in that style as well, very cool.
paperbackstash's review against another edition
5.0
Songs of Innocence is the first of the hardcase crime novels I have read, a flashback to the days of old where crime noir with pop-up style covers populated the streets. I doubt I'll read another I enjoyed as much as this one for a long time coming.
As a mystery, it's rich. The unlucky protagonist, still carrying baggage from trauma three years ago (covered in the prequel Little Girl Lost), has been taking creative writing classes for journalism in order to rest and recover. His former life of private investigation has been lost to him as he felt suffocated from real life's invasion.
He meets another disturbed woman living two lives, someone who he can retreat from the world with and share his own troubles, but finds her dead in her apartment when she won't return his call. Since she didn't honor their pact of calling before suicide - as they both had discussed before - he's convinced she's been murdered and takes up his past detective life to bring justice to her name.
Entering the streets, he's soon threatened, beat up, framed for a vicious murder, and must fall into an unsettling underground sex ring to find out the truth. What he uncovers is not only surprising, but the guilt he's been carrying around with him never gets relieved. It ends with a final slap of the face, something that will be remembered by most readers for awhile to come.
Edgar Award Winner Richard Aleas creates a world that may as well have been in the fifties, even if the scene is placed in the modern world. The gritty feel easily seeps through the pages, and the story - while not overly fast in pace - is gripping and doesn't let up once you start reading. There's of course a jumbo pot of characters, but unusually the emphasis is on Blake, which isn't always common in detective novels of this sort.
This is one of those books where it's difficult to pinpoint brilliance and likability factor, because in books as well as in life - either it's just there or it just isn't. This is one of the cases where it just IS, between flaw-ridden characters, scenes brimming with angst, and tragically wasted life.
Tension is fierce where it's needed, and while the novel contains a fair share of suspense, it was never meant to be about that. Instead it's more a mental deterioration in the face of loss. A nihilistic book where violence never stops, and just when you think you may have it figured out, another dead end is around the corner. This is no average crime noir detective, and as a result Songs of Innocent stands out proudly among the crowd.
As a mystery, it's rich. The unlucky protagonist, still carrying baggage from trauma three years ago (covered in the prequel Little Girl Lost), has been taking creative writing classes for journalism in order to rest and recover. His former life of private investigation has been lost to him as he felt suffocated from real life's invasion.
He meets another disturbed woman living two lives, someone who he can retreat from the world with and share his own troubles, but finds her dead in her apartment when she won't return his call. Since she didn't honor their pact of calling before suicide - as they both had discussed before - he's convinced she's been murdered and takes up his past detective life to bring justice to her name.
Entering the streets, he's soon threatened, beat up, framed for a vicious murder, and must fall into an unsettling underground sex ring to find out the truth. What he uncovers is not only surprising, but the guilt he's been carrying around with him never gets relieved. It ends with a final slap of the face, something that will be remembered by most readers for awhile to come.
Edgar Award Winner Richard Aleas creates a world that may as well have been in the fifties, even if the scene is placed in the modern world. The gritty feel easily seeps through the pages, and the story - while not overly fast in pace - is gripping and doesn't let up once you start reading. There's of course a jumbo pot of characters, but unusually the emphasis is on Blake, which isn't always common in detective novels of this sort.
This is one of those books where it's difficult to pinpoint brilliance and likability factor, because in books as well as in life - either it's just there or it just isn't. This is one of the cases where it just IS, between flaw-ridden characters, scenes brimming with angst, and tragically wasted life.
Tension is fierce where it's needed, and while the novel contains a fair share of suspense, it was never meant to be about that. Instead it's more a mental deterioration in the face of loss. A nihilistic book where violence never stops, and just when you think you may have it figured out, another dead end is around the corner. This is no average crime noir detective, and as a result Songs of Innocent stands out proudly among the crowd.
psteve's review against another edition
For the first half, this one felt like a retread of the first book, Little Girl Lost. That book was really terrific, so I was a bit disappointed. But the ending here is just devastating, one that I won't soon forget.
More...