Critical Mick

Reviews Free of Rules.

Reviews by the Clown that All Other Critics Want to Strangle with a Black Turtleneck

Every Dead Thing
John Connolly
Coronet Books, 1999

Book 'Em, Johnno

Prior to 1999, Rialto-native John Connolly had no criminal fiction record to speak of. Then, in one bold stroke, this otherwise mild-mannered Dublin journalist hit the big time. The evidence: Every Dead Thing.

Fact #1

Like many first-time novelists, Connolly follows a common MO:

Critical Mick's Patented Hardboil Checklist Alcoholic Ex-Cop Hero? Serial Killers? Wisecracks? Wiseguys? Dead Bodies? Loads! Interesting Locations? Redhead Love Interest? Oh yeah!   Spooky Shit?

Any sleazy lawyer could object, "Hundreds fit that profile! Why is this novel singled out for a Critical Mick working-over?" What set Every Dead Thing above its street-level peers?

Fact #2

Connolly writes with style. Touches are cinematic. Best: there are legitimately unsuspected turns. Where other likely suspects stick close to the ages-old formula, Connelly surprises. Every Dead Thing does not end where grizzled crime veterans see it ending. The killer proves elusive. The second half is whole new territory, basically a bonus second novel. Different.

Charlie "Bird" Parker's known associates are worth a mention. On second thought, nope. You're a keen detective, at least when thumbing pages. Investigate for yourself. Consider this a shout-out.

Crimes Most Heinous

Pet Peeve: part of this debut is set in Louisiana. That Louisiana feels borrowed from James Lee Burke, not the real thing. I lived in Terrebonne Parish. There's a hell of a lot more to Cajun Country than New Orleans' French Quarter, spooky bayous, mobsters and voodoo. My critical, cliche-hating cakehole will puke up a beinet or two if I see one more character breakfast at Cafe du Monde. 

And, 2. Seasoned investigators have lectured: there's no such thing as coincidence. So I'll address the court one final point, though I am probably addressing out my ass. Connolly's 1999 debut is similar to a graphic novel that appeared three years earlier. Preacher: Gone to Texas likewise introduces a series character, includes the supernatural, is set in the South and in New York City. Both have a small band of colorful good guys who are not necessarily good. Both stories pursue a serial killer who cuts off victims' faces. Preacher's also a clear two-parter. And both villains turn out to be... well, there was enough deja to get me scratching my vu. I won't give any more away.

Is this a tribute, the same way Quentin Tarrantino dips into the pulp racks? More likely, it's typical Critical Mick waffle. Like so many comic books, recently, Preacher is soon to be made into a movie. Probably a bad one. Have a look and see what you think.

Still, that's all misdemeanor. Normal readers would call both points inadmissable in court.

Sentence:

Critical Mick says: .357 calibre. Though Every Dead Thing is small enough to be tucked in a waistband, this paperback is heavy hitting. John Connolly joins Colin Bateman on Critical Mick's Most Wanted Young Irish Crime Writers list.

Well worth a plug: www.johnconnollybooks.com. Connolly, damn him, has had the good fortune to interview some of Critical Mick's literary heroes. George Pelecanos, John le Carré, Kinky Friedman, Michael Connelly. James Lee Burke invited Connolly up to his Montana ranch for his 31st birthday, the lucky bollocks.

OK, so luck has nothing to do with it. Connolly delivers a hell of a good interview, as well as numerous no-bullshit articles on aspects of his craft. The man is a pro, and his site an excellent showcase. Check it out.

Secret message here! Hurrah! Maybe a detective will discover it! Like Charlie Bird Parker from John Connolly's Every Dead Thing! Or maybe not!

Yo! This review and all content on the DFA Guide site are copyright 2005 Mick Halpin. All links to other sites and documents are copyright to whatever source wrote something cool enough for Mick to give it a referral. Try to claim them as your own work and bad karma will catch up with you, baby. Believe it.

Irate, huh? Managed to piss off another one? Direct your hatemail to mick @ mickhalpin dot com.

This Page Was Last Updated On 9 September, 2005.