The Feral Detective
Some days, there’s the notion, “I wish I thought of that.” The press-release, online-review material, cf. Amazon, suggests that the novel was a liberal, knee-jerk reaction to recent politics, like, within the last two years.
Dark, supposedly a spin on the noir detective serial, with an added layer of extreme contemporary snark factored in, seems fitting enough.
“Nancy Drew was defunct, replaced by Joan Didion—a female Reporter from the Outer Limit, whose meekness in the given moment would be revenged in sublime verbal retrospect.” Page 88.
Dancing prose, at times, and other times, sparse, and stripped. Perhaps we all aspire, as part of the genetic markings of humankind, to a feral existence and such roots.
Drop a latte liberal — full disclosure, that’s me — drop an educated liberal in deep Southern California, the hinterlands, the Mojave, &c.?
Some frankly twisted material, sex, drugs, and contemporary music. Doesn’t seem like anyone is left off the hook.
“It featured a comic illustration, showing the man I now had to call president sawing an elephant in half, like a stage magician. The elephant was the Republican Party. How we wanted him to do it!” Page 205.
Lamentable loss of liberal life?
The Feral Detective
There is a inherent problem with one structural aspect of the novel. It features a female protagonist, although, more along the lines of an anti-hero, but the author is male.
Just sayin’ — guys don’t belong writing females.
More than once, it seems to slip up in the narrative, with the female doing a distinctly male action in parts of the narrative, but doesn’t detract from the novel as a whole, or as a piece of art.
The Feral Detective
Good book, timely, and retrospective, with that extra layer of the smart-aleck, wise-cracking persona on a rescue mission. Doubt she can save the world, and I doubt the voice is more than the thinly veiled voice of the author, but who knows, for sure?
I liked it, but I’m far from normal.
