Maslin Watch: At Least She Doesn't Call It Noir Again

Maslin's contribution today is less a review than a fan letter to George Pelecanos, "one of today's most stellar writers of hard-boiled crime fiction" (thanks to Sarah for pointing out her longstanding admiration for his work). Not that that's a bad thing; I think Pelecanos is pretty swell, too.

It is a book that bears out Mr. Pelecanos's often-repeated conviction that the moral lessons of youth shape the destiny of a man.

As much as I like his novels, though, I have to say I'm reasonably certain this theory didn't exactly originate with him. And I'd have to point out to Maslin that a fictional story doesn't quite bear out any conviction of this sort, no matter how often repeated, except entirely by the author's design, which doesn't really do anything for the conviction's status as an independent hypothesis.

Maslin's right to point out, however, that Hard Revolution (which I started reading after hearing Pelecanos the other night) is probably best appreciated as an introduction to Derek Strange, who features prominently in the author's most recent crime novels, adding some much appreciated backstory to the character. She indulges in a lot of synopsis, though she's a close enough reader of Pelecanos to be able to point out his use of recurring characters, which surely must count for something. On the other hand, there's clunkers like:

Darius works in a Greek-owned restaurant. (There is a strong Greek component to the cultural mix of Mr. Pelecanos's world.)

Surely Maslin knows that Pelecanos is a Greek-American whose father owned a diner in D.C.; she certainly could have fleshed out that component of his writing more effectively. Perhaps, instead of lumping him in with "the crime-fiction peer group that includes Michael Connelly, Ian Rankin, Peter Robinson and others," it might be more interesting--and critically useful--to compare him to authors like Madison Smartt Bell and Richard Price, two white-skinned writers who have grappled with contemporary race relations throughout their fiction. To be honest, I can't see all that much common ground, other than the superficial genre boundaries and a shared publisher, between Pelecanos, Connelly, and Rankin, or for that matter Robinson (though I think a reasonable argument could be made for linking Connelly and Robinson thematically). It's easy to say you like crime fiction and leave it at that, but when you can make an argument that somebody like Pelecanos is doing more with the genre, I think you should go the extra distance and talk about what that is.

And what she does say these crime writers all have in common--a fetish for pop music references--seems a rather skimpy hook on which to hang a literary movement. I'm pretty sure she just brought it up as an easy way to gloat over having gotten a free "limited-edition CD with a soundtrack to accompany this novel. And it's a beaut." I haven't heard the disc, but it certainly looks good on paper: an effective sampling of the Time Warner music group's archives, with liner notes by Pelecanos and Peter Guralnick.