Every Dead Thing

Charlie Parker, where have you been all my life? And that is Charlie Parker the New York City police detective not Charlie Parker the jazz saxophonist, (who I also love.) I don’t know why I I have never heard of John Connolly‘s writing or his detective Charlie Parker, but I finally heard about it and I read this first book. There’s nothing like it that’s in print as far as I’m concerned. The writing is tremendous, the characters are fully formed, the bad guys are super bad and all the other people are real people and believable. The book is violent for sure, but the violence doesn’t seem overdone—at least not to me, because it is so well written. Charlie Parker is a retired New York City police detective who quit the force show more after his wife and daughter were killed in a very dramatic fashion. Since he’s been off the force, he’s been trying to track down his wife and daughter’s killer. as he tracks a sadistic killer, he actually stumbles upon the solution to another serial killer who has operated in the New York area for a number of years. At much risk to himself, he does finally uncover who that killer was who had been abducting and killig young children in New York State. His search for his family’s killer takes him down to New Orleans and into the heart of the steamy, swampy Bayou. But there he finds something so completely different that depraved doesn’t even fully describe it. Charlie feels like he's walking around in circles and he’s not sure where to look next and while gathering information, he becomes involved in a violent gang war. Putting himself and his friends at risk through this whole search doesn’t make him stop though. Parker’s crew consists of only two but two is more than enough because Louis and Angel are the best at what they do. Both Louis and Angel are black, gay, ex-cons. Louis is a trained assassin and Angel is a break and enter artist. Following these boys on their bloody hunt was a lot of fun and it kept me turning pages. I couldn’t put this book down and I’m already looking forward to reading the second book in the series. This series has gone up to the top of my favourites list as of right now. show less

Well written but with a few flaws that gave me pause.


A good first impression

After having hung around outside, listening to other people having fun at the Charlie Parker party, I finally decided to head inside and see for myself what the appeal was Even though I'm two decades late, I started with the first Charlie Parker book, 'Every Dead Thing', published in 1999.

When I started the book, I thought - 'So this is what the fuss was about.' The writing was accomplished and vivid. The storytelling was skilfully non-linear, with past and present swirling together in Parker's mind like water from different streams hitting a river. It was effortless, vivid, and compelling. It was also gruesome, violent, seedy and soaked in despair and ripe with show more regret.

On first meeting, Parker struck me as a strange narrator. He was a man whose history won him some sympathy but whose feelings, motivations and values are obscure. From the start, I saw everything through his eyes, either as it happened or as a memory. I saw it up close and in detail and with, apparently, very little being hidden, although some of it is artfully revealed. Yet, even when I knew his tragic backstory, I still had no feeling for who Charlie Parker was. He seemed to keep his emotions locked in a steel box somewhere at the back of his mind. Occasionally I thought I heard something rattling back there but I didn't know if it was trying to get out or just settling in place.

A tasty meal of a story but with a taint that spoiled the after-taste.

By the time I finished 'Every Dead Thing', my opinion of the book had shifted. I felt as though I'd eaten something that I liked but which had had a background flavour that was a little off and which clung to the palette after I was done

There were some very good things here. Things good enough to make me want to read more of John Connolley's books.

I loved the quality of the writing. It's measured and careful and changes in texture to match the content.

I remain impressed by how well and how effortlessly the beginning of the book braided the two threads of current action and Parker's backstory, making both stronger.

The regular, bloody, fatal violence was vividly described and the action scenes were full of tension and suspense.

Perhaps best of all was the sparkling depiction of Parker's two 'Associates' Louie and Angel. The novel was worth reading just to meet these black gay men, one a master thief and one an assassin, who I think are one of the most believable and intriguing couples in crime fiction. The depiction of their relationship with each other felt authentic and intimate. Their relationship with Parker was unusual but plausible. Their dialogue was perfect.

So what's not to like?

Although the book was full of action and had a twisting plot that kept hiding the bad guys, I felt that it meandered too much. We reached a false climax when the first killer is disposed of about half-way through the book. That felt like reaching what you thought would be the top of a hill only to find it was a ridge and there's a bigger climb ahead.

Then we had so many gun battles. It felt like bullets had replaced interrogation as an investigative tool.

Then there is the way women were portrayed - as if they were a species Parker has admired from afar but never actually met. Yes, the main woman is bright and independent and even shoots someone but I didn't believe in her as a person. She remained a plot device.

These are things that I could imagine John Connolley getting better at in later books.

The two things that left me with a sense of reading something tainted.

The first is the fascination with vivisection as art and the serial killer as an artist. It was probably a nineties thing - Val McDermid's books did the same sort of thing - which is why I stopped reading them. I found this repulsive not because of the violence but because it seemed an invitation to voyeurism. I don't want to watch this and I resent the sly admiration for the serial killer and torturer that comes from their transformation into an artist or wannabe artist.

The second thing is Parker. And this is why I can't make my mind up. Is the fact that I dislike him so much a problem with the book or a tribute to John Connolley's writing?

Parker is a drunk and a murderer. He's a man who could only love his wife fully after she'd been killed. He pumps out testosterone, creating violence wherever he goes. He makes Reacher look like a diplomat. He's dressed as a cultured man who loves poetry and cajun food and intelligent women. He has people who are loyal to him. And yet, his first solution to any problem is violence. We know he's had suicidal thoughts and overcome them. I'm not sure that that was the right decision.

So, what next?

People whose tastes I normally share have told me that they love the Charlie Parker series that I'm going to give the next book in the series a try and see if Parker becomes someone I'm more enamoured with. show less

Not the best start to the reading year! Following a recommendation for Connolly's latest Charlie Parker novel - there are now fifteen in the series - I went back to the beginning to see if I liked the books and the character. I eventually decided that I don't. Charlie Parker is a checklist of detective clichés, the writing is horribly dated, even for the late 90s, and the action - when the author takes time out from describing what everybody is wearing and going on Hugo-esque ruminations about evil - revolves around guns and macho violence. There are also two separate plots crammed into 500 pages, like Connolly couldn't decide which to use and went with both.

I will admit that the first chapters, describing the elaborately vicious and show more grisly murders of Parker's 'wife and child', who were never anything more than a backstory to the main character, hooked me in and kept me reading. The main story is Parker's hunt for the 'Travelling Man', the pretentious serial killer who poses his victims like the subjects of Renaissance anatomical paintings (of course he does). Then there are two vaguely connected subplots about children being abducted and killed in Virginia and a missing woman from Louisiana, which leads Parker to the Travelling Man's lair. The only problem is that Connolly takes what should have been a standard length novel and pumps the pages full of unnecessary descriptions of passing characters and backstory, like Stephen King at his drug-addled best. I started skimming through waffle to get back to the actual plot, or would still be reading this book now.

Also, not to sound like a Twitter review, but Connolly has a passive aggressive obsession with portraying black characters and 'homosexuals' as either victims or deviants - apart from the utterly unconvincing pairing of Angel and Louis, who are now regulars of the series. And don't get me started on Rachel, the beautiful and intelligent criminal profiler who joins Parker in Louisiana to look up stuff in books, and naturally falls in love with the tortured yet uber-masculine former detective. I was kind of hoping that she was the Travelling Man, which would have been an epic twist, but I knew who the killer was from the midway mark.

Fifteen books testifies to the success of this series, and I hope that Parker's narrative now lives up to the reviews, but this book just wasn't for me, sorry. show less

Y'know, I'm a pretty flawed person. I know it. I like my fantasy books, I like my science fiction books, and that's generally where it ends, no ifs ands or buts. It used to be, too, that I couldn't read anything in first person. Stout third person book thumper. Just couldn't, no sir, read first person. That was nine or ten years ago, and like any 89 year old trapped in an early 30's body, I drug my slug first person reading prejudices out of the gutter of my grumpy front law mind and made myself read through some well recommended first person.

Shock. Gasp. Surprise.
I liked them.

But crime books? Thrillers? Horror (that wasn't Stephen King?) , mystery? FICTION?! Nope. Couldn't do it.

And then two days ago I sat down with Every Dead show more Thing and said, "come on you old bastard. Give it a chance. Let's do it."

I am both partly ashamed at what I have missed, and elated at finding this book. It was so god damned good I couldn't put it down and was finished it within two days. I'm now a few chapters into Dark Hollow and I refuse to put it down. John's writing, his descriptions, his blatant poetic look at the down and dirty things we humans can do to each other, and have done, blow me away. I'm not real good like with describing the descriptions, or the clear cut, brutal honest look at humanity and the characters in John's books...But I can say I loved them. I love these. I love Birdman--because he's like me. He's like everyone else. Intensely flawed, intensely human, and desperate to change something, even when some things never change anyway.

Not sure how I could eloquently put it any better than, "BUY THESE. READ THESE. LOVE THEM." show less

Oh boy, I can tell that I am going to read every one of this series. Starts out dark and somehow gets darker and even more compelling. Not only are we treated to two separate mysteries in this first installment, I was fascinated by all extras----little vignettes that are fleshed out enough and so well done that they stand as short stories included in the overall work. Some may have found this distracting---I considered it a bonus.

Mr. Connolly can sure write. Take the noir and darkness of Elroy and Lehane and add a supernatural twist and you have an original series by a singular voice.

Can’t wait to read Dark Hollow.

“I believe in evil because I have touched it, and it has touched me.”

The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of this book is: beautiful writing. Seriously. We all read books and write reviews that may say a book is well-written, sometimes penned as a mere afterthought, but rarely do I read a book that uses such beautiful turn of phrase that sometimes I just sat there in awe absorbing it. I came away from reading this being impressed by characterization, mystery technique, tension and storyline - but the beautiful writing and way with words John Connolly has is what impressed me the most. Sometimes poetic forms of writing overwhelm themselves and become more about the ramble than the stories focus and point - thankfully show more that's not the case here. While Connolly writes beautiful paragraphs that can sometime bring about philosophical ponderings, he sticks the point of the story and keeps things slowly but carefully paced.

“We’re the world’s leading producer of serial killers. It’s a sign of sickness, is what it is. We’re sick and weak and these killers are like a cancer inside us: the faster we grow, the quicker they multiply.”

Serial killer stories are a dime a dozen, and I grew bored of them over ten years ago. I never understood America's obsession with them, and I definitely didn't want to watch repeat stories on the big screen where the same plot kept regurgitating. Books haven't been much kinder - I shudder at the word thriller half the time before I make sure it's not more formulaic killer drivel. There are exceptions, of course, and this turned out to be one of them. This DOES have a serial killer but it ties into the detective's life story. Okay, so that's not new really, but it's okay since John Connoly does it the way he does - it just is. Somehow it works without being too tired or beaten on.

The crime is vicious and opens the novel as the already existing and driving force for the main character Charlie Parker. It's about six months after the fact and shows through flashbacks and recollections (beautifully written, of course, and seamlessly flip-flopped between) that time has passed and his life is forever changed. He's hunted down the killer before, but its become a period of stalemate until the next big thing happens. Enter new story for new book.

Charlie's life may suck but he's enjoyable to have as a lead for a novel. He's good at his job but he's imperfect. He trusts the wrong people and life has carved a grim negativity in his personality. He has one of those noirish detective familiarities with the street, settling into a private detective role where he knows everyone who knows everyone, works his magic at undercover sabotage, gets out of sticky situations without batting many eyelashes in the face of danger, and somehow always knows a little more than the opponent he's facing. Okay, again not overly original but - it just works again.

I enjoyed the side characters who accompanied Charlie to New Orleans. One was a semi-retired assassin, the other...well, I'm not sure but he used to be in prison. Bonding with that pair was a different touch. Throw in cops too - old partners who can only deal with the past Charlie while kicking out the present. New Orleans FBI who doesn't trust. Cops who go the extra illegal mile to help the case get solved. That kind of thing. It works.

Every Dead Thing is almost too long, but the book combines two mysteries in one. The first mystery is to find a missing woman, and the second is to find the demented serial killer who destroyed Charlie's life and family. The two tie into each other later. The weight of the long book was lightened when the author split half the time in one town, half the time in another. Changing the setting and the playing cast worked wonders to make it seem less overwhelming and trying. The serial killer wasn't really that unique - he was interesting as far as that goes but it's sort of been seen before - but the characters who are tracking him down keep the story fresh.
If I had to have a fault, I'd say the therapist wasn't needed. She seemed a convenient romantic line to help save Charlie and bring him back up to the surface. It was a little too convenient on her expertise and career when it came to figuring out killer clues. Still, plot pieces and formulas can again be forgiven - since this book just works.

I also am a bit confused on whether this book or series is supposed to have paranormal elements. For some reason going in I got the impression it was a paranormally influenced detective story, but I threw that idea out of the bag as I kept reading it. Eventually some psychic stuff came in, though, and even I questioned where there were real ghosts involved at the end. I'm not sure if it's a one-time deal for the series and was just part of being haunted by tragedy, or if it's going to have a paranormal vibe to it throughout.

There's not a lot of new stuff here but it's still good - that's my argument and I'm sticking with it. show less

I have long wanted to read John Connolly’s Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker series so I joined several Good Reads readers in a group read of this first book in the series of 12 (so far) thrillers featuring a former NYPD detective tortured by the brutal murder of his wife and daughter.

What struck me first about Every Dead Thing is the writing. Connolly writes with a deep and lyrical style that is not only engaging but forges a bond between the reader and the characters. Not only are we told about the loss Bird has suffered. We feel it along with him. Connolly also does a great job of developing his characters, not just Bird but the large cast of ancillary characters instead. Chief among the secondary characters are Parker’s sidekicks Louis show more and Angel, a shady pair of killers who deserve a series of their own. They are like The Odd Couple if Felix and Oscar were gay career criminals who entertained themselves by serving as guardian angels to an ex-cop with a taste for pissing off killers.

The plot itself is engaging although it does tend to wander on occasion and there are so many side characters that more than once I found myself wondering where that character came from. Connolly does do a good job of tying things up in the end and I confess that, even though I knew that there was still another shoe left to drop, I was blindsided by the conclusion.

Bottom line: Every Dead Thing is a darker story than I usually read and it took me deeper into the abyss than I would like. Even so, I am fascinated by Bird Parker’s character and look forward to finding out what happens to him in his next book. show less