Trash Lit: 'Nine Dragons' is trustworthy
Editors note: Bay Guardian Executive Editor Tim Redmond has a bad 30-year addiction to mystery/crime/thriller books. He's decided that he might as well put this terrible habit to productive use by writing about these sometimes awful, sometimes entertaining and -- on rare occasion -- significant works of mass-market literature. Read his last installment here.
Nine Dragons
Michael Connelly
Little, Brow;, 374 pages, $27.99)
By Tim Redmond
Harry Bosch, Michael Connelly's fictional detective, is the best continuing-series character in the genre (well, there's Spenser, but he's a special case). Bosch lives in L.A., where he's a cop. He's a little bit tortured -- what can you say about a guy named Bosch whose dad thought it would be funny to name him Hieronymous? -- but not so bent that it takes over the storyline.
And there's always a good storyline. Connelly, a former newspaper reporter, knows how to work the real world into top-fight fiction, and his books give you a great feel both for the seedy side of Los Angeles and the world of a police detective. He doesn't glorify cops -- they come with plenty of warts, and some of them are sleazebags and some are thugs and some are crooks. And he doesn't make violence seem anything but ugly, pathetic and painful.
Nine Dragons takes on a scene that Connelly doesn't know that well -- Chinese gangs and the Hong Kong underworld -- but instead of pretending to be an expert, he works his learning curve into his hero's head. Bosch, after all these years, has never quite recovered from his time as a tunnel rat in Vietnam, and is painfully nervous that his attitude toward Asians remains colored by that experience. From the first chapter, he's having trouble with his partner, Detective Chu, someone he desperately needs but can't entirely trust.
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