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A review by grifen87
The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton
3.0
Despite my efforts to be well-read, this was my first Crichton novel, and I finally gave in to the Crichton allure more in search of heist stories than anything else. I think I have often confused him with Tom Clancy who I found to be a bit shallow in The Hunt for Red October (though still a classic of Cold War submarinery (I declare that a word)). As heist stories go, this wasn't too elaborate, but it was interesting in its differences from modern heisting and in the history lessons Crichton provided along the way.
As for differences from modern heists, the interpersonal nature of their thievery was intriguing. For example, today's heists consist mostly of bypassing technology and avoiding the liability of human interactions, but in Crichton's less automated world of Victorian England, the only obstacles to theft are simply locks and people. For the locks, one must simply obtain the keys or make copies (often easier said than done), but the human gatekeepers can be distracted, manipulated, offered generous compensation, etc. So the masterminds of this great train robbery leaned into their acting abilities to conduct their gradual, calculated preparations and ultimately to carry out the great theft.
As far as the history lessons, Crichton offers his piece in a sort of hybrid writing style split between the actual narrative, forward-flashes to the court hearings following the theft, and history lessons about the socioeconomic and moral workings of Victorian England. While I found these historical expositions to be relevant and usually quite interesting, they did take away from the usually immersive nature of fiction. Even so, to me this split style would have been worth it if he had made the narrative sections a bit more riveting such that the reader is more drawn into what's happening. There were certainly plenty of charged, dynamic, and even salacious scenes, but despite the descriptive tools he used, they still felt a bit external or not as entertaining as they could have been.
As the novel was structured around Pierce, the criminal mastermind, I naturally found him and his mistress, Miriam, the most intriguing. He's something of a Gatsby figure, a product of the time, in the sense that he has manners and some wealth, even if more in appearance than reality, and we don't really know how he rose from his apparent lower origins. I appreciated his thorough, conservative planning but found it a bit odd that he threw this to the wind (literally) when deciding to "mountaneer" the moving train to unlock the car door and access the loot.
A major qualm was the very clear references to child sex. Surely he could have maintained historical accuracy without touching this topic at all. Maybe he was trying to play some sort of modern Charles Dickens by revealing the social issues of the time, but we're at the point in society when fictional authors should avoid this topic altogether.
As for differences from modern heists, the interpersonal nature of their thievery was intriguing. For example, today's heists consist mostly of bypassing technology and avoiding the liability of human interactions, but in Crichton's less automated world of Victorian England, the only obstacles to theft are simply locks and people. For the locks, one must simply obtain the keys or make copies (often easier said than done), but the human gatekeepers can be distracted, manipulated, offered generous compensation, etc. So the masterminds of this great train robbery leaned into their acting abilities to conduct their gradual, calculated preparations and ultimately to carry out the great theft.
As far as the history lessons, Crichton offers his piece in a sort of hybrid writing style split between the actual narrative, forward-flashes to the court hearings following the theft, and history lessons about the socioeconomic and moral workings of Victorian England. While I found these historical expositions to be relevant and usually quite interesting, they did take away from the usually immersive nature of fiction. Even so, to me this split style would have been worth it if he had made the narrative sections a bit more riveting such that the reader is more drawn into what's happening. There were certainly plenty of charged, dynamic, and even salacious scenes, but despite the descriptive tools he used, they still felt a bit external or not as entertaining as they could have been.
As the novel was structured around Pierce, the criminal mastermind, I naturally found him and his mistress, Miriam, the most intriguing. He's something of a Gatsby figure, a product of the time, in the sense that he has manners and some wealth, even if more in appearance than reality, and we don't really know how he rose from his apparent lower origins. I appreciated his thorough, conservative planning but found it a bit odd that he threw this to the wind (literally) when deciding to "mountaneer" the moving train to unlock the car door and access the loot.
A major qualm was the very clear references to child sex. Surely he could have maintained historical accuracy without touching this topic at all. Maybe he was trying to play some sort of modern Charles Dickens by revealing the social issues of the time, but we're at the point in society when fictional authors should avoid this topic altogether.