LAST GREAT READS FOR JUNE, 2017
The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas Young Adults
So. Here she is, minus the white boyfriend, naturally. Everyone ignores her, until she sees her childhood friend, Khalil, seventeen now and wearing some VERY expensive gear. Diamond studs in the ears, too. Starr’s happiness at seeing him after several months is spoiled by worrying where he got the money for these things. It’s a well-known fact that his mother is a crackhead and his grandmother with whom he lives has cancer and has been sacked from her job – at a hospital! – because she is too ill to work. There can be only one answer: Khalil is selling drugs for King, Kenya’s father. But when fronted about it Khalil tells Starr to butt out – he OK! The situation is not improved when the party turns into the exact reason why her family would never knowingly allow her to go there: shots are fired and everyone hits the floor – it’s time to go!
Khalil offers Starr a ride home, which is great; she might even get in the door without anyone knowing where she went! Instead, the worst happens, and her life is changed forever.
A white police officer stops them as they drive through one of the worst parts of the Hood; Khalil supposedly has a broken tail-light. Starr is terrified. She remembers the instructions her Daddy has given them all: show your hands at all times; don’t make any sudden moves; be polite – directions that Khalil should know but is not following. Ordered out of the car, he attempts to lean back in to ask Starr if she is OK – and is shot to death by Officer 115.
That number will be engraved on Starr’s consciousness for a lifetime. This is the second time she has lost a loving childhood friend to murder; her friend Natasha was killed in a drive-by shooting when they were 10. Now Khalil has met the same fate. Black Jesus, where are You?
This wonderful book should be read by ALL adults, not only the young. This is Angie Thomas’s first novel, a fact I find hard to believe, for it is written with a maturity and assurance that more experienced writers can only dream of. She explores through Starr’s narration of events the endless connotations of a single cowardly act and the repercussions that ripple outwards from the decisions, right or wrong, that people make to stand against abuse, racism and tyranny of every stripe.
The novel’s title is taken from a Tupac Shakur Album that Khalil loved: T.H.U.G. L.I.F.E. The Hate U Give Little Infants F---s Everybody. And that’s the truth. This book is totally badass, cool and dope. SIX STARS!!!
The Thirst, by Jo Nesbo
Harry Hole suffers from all the fictional detective’s usual demons: alcoholism, nightmares, ghosts of murder victims from previous cases who visit to torment him – but he is currently ‘dry’ and a loving husband to Rakel and thrilled that his stepson Oleg is a student at Police College where Harry now lectures. Life is as good as it is going to get. Until two grisly murders take place within days, shattering the calm, not just of Harry’s world, but of the entire city of Oslo, for both women had met their assailant through the Tinder website, and both women had been drained of blood through terrible wounds to their throats – caused by a set of iron teeth. And there are no clues.
Police Chief Mikael Bellman wants this monster caught as quickly as possible; he has political ambitions and a speedy resolution will cement his reputation as a fearless and effective future Minister of Justice, not to mention silencing the yammer of the tabloid press: yes, even though Bellman hates Harry Hole, Hole and his rat trap memory and vastly analytical mind is the best man for the job – but has to be blackmailed to do it. Harry doesn’t want to be plunged into the maelstrom again, but when his family is threatened he has no choice.
Back in the saddle once more: back to sleepless nights for everyone, consultations with behavioural psychologists and various other experts and all that is initially learned is that the killer is a ‘Vampirist’, a murderer who loves drinking blood. And the Vampirist keeps on killing. Oslo is in an uproar and Harry’s life plunges further into chaos when his beloved Rakel is struck down by a mystery illness which puts her into a coma.
Jo Nesbo drags the reader kicking and screaming through every blood-drenched chapter; he is merciless in his portrayal of human depravity and because he is such an excellent writer we are must tolerate all the gory details, BUT! To dilute all the violence, there is a fine vein of comedy introduced whenever Mr Nesbo judges that the reader needs some light relief. And about time, too, I say! My nerves were in shreds. I have to say that I never guessed the identity of the killer, for Mr Nesbo is adept in casting Red Herrings throughout his plot; I headed off entirely in the wrong direction – as I was meant to do.
Sadly, the only criticism I have is quite a big one: when the killer is finally revealed he is (naturally) the last person anyone (except Harry Hole) would suspect – BUT! (Yet another one) – said killer takes Harry hostage, forcing him on a long car trip across the city, all the while revealing his reasons for his almost-perfect crime rampage with such hysterical glee that I expected him at any moment to start twirling his moustaches or, when justice finally triumphed, shout ‘curses, foiled again!’
Still, Harry survives – just – to battle his own demons and everyone else’s in the next book, for this particular episode is not over: not every villain has been caught. I just hope that the plotting will be more plausible and less farcical next time. FOUR STARS
Blood on Snow, by Jo Nesbo
Olav Johansen is dyslexic. He has had trouble reading all his life, but it hasn’t stopped him trying. His memory for what he so painstakingly absorbs is razor-sharp, as he reveals in his first-person narrative – except that he is self-deprecating whenever he shares with the reader a little morsel of his vast knowledge on myriad subjects – ‘but what do I know?’ He is also a romantic, and inclined to donate money anonymously to down-and-outers; he falls in love with fallen women – and he is also a hit man, a ‘fixer’ for one of Oslo’s bigtime gangsters.
He sees nothing incongruous in his coldblooded dispatching of whoever his boss tells him to remove, and the soft side of his nature which exhorts him to care for the exploited prostitutes his boss employs, particularly Maria, a deaf-mute with a limp: he still can’t understand why Maria works as a prostitute, until he finds out that she is paying off her junkie boyfriend’s drug debt.
Olav’s life is fairly predictable, and he doesn’t expect it to change in any dramatic way – until his boss tells him that his next ‘assignment’ is to remove the boss’s faithless wife. Olav feels a sense of awful forboding with regard to this new task, especially when he stakes out the rich apartment in which Mrs Boss spends her ineffectual days and learns that she has a young man who visits her every day at the same time to beat and rape her. True to form, Olav’s warped sense of chivalry rears its mutant head and he decides to rescue Mrs Boss – and ‘fix’ her tormentor.
And that is just the start of Olav’s life-threatening problems. Life goes pear-shaped and remains so, despite his best attempts to resolve his situation so that he may be the White Knight for Mrs Boss. Maria has been entirely forgotten and while many people will die because of his actions, he will learn yet again that the people he most trusts are capable of the worst betrayal.
Once again, Jo Nesbo has created an anti-hero that every reader backs to the hilt. As always Mr Nesbo makes each sentence do the work of ten, giving this story a huge impact in relation to its size, and the bloody imagery of the title is never more appropriate than in the final pages. FIVE STARS