Can the Consumer Protection Agency Recall a Book? Start with this One!
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Author: Sara Paretsky
Title: Total Recall Genre: mystery It takes a while - something like eighteen months, give or take - for most popular authors to bring a manuscript from conception to printed page. That's why so many current novels have a chapter or two of the author's next release tacked on after the ending; the books' already written (or at least mostly so). A noticeable effect of the production time span is a staleness of subject matter: take a look at a new release and you just might recognize the headlines, given about a year and a half's time lag. Sometimes that temporal gap is almost imperceptible; other times the effect of a "blast from the past" is complete incongruity. One would think today, for instance, that a novel about the high jinks of dot-com millionaires might seem dated; nostalgic even. A light-hearted tale of a novice priest's dalliances with his altar-boy friends, if published last month, might well hit the remnant shelves within a matter of weeks. In popular novels, it seems, timing is more important than one might suspect. Consider this little factoid: the first printing of Sara Paretsky's Total Recall was released in September, 2001. I don't know about you, but I wasn't paying much attention at the time... And when I did stumble over a remaindered copy, somehow the story line seemed as if glimpsed through the wrong end of a telescope. Perhaps that's why it seemed muddled and murky, although maybe itwas muddled and murky. See for yourself: Where in the World is Sofie Radbuka? The issue of the month - what, two? Three years ago? - was reparations: reparations for the descendants of slaves in America, reparations for the survivors of the Holocaust in Europe. The intrepid V I (Vic) Warshawski's involvement in the subject comes, as it usually does, by a circuitous path that begins with a simple investigation. In Total Recall, the case is apparent insurance fraud: the insurance company claims it paid her client a death benefit almost ten years ago, even though her husband was alive and kicking up until last week. At the core of a labyrinthine plot lies a single name: Sofie Radbuka. The name belongs to a decades-old past; the name connects the young Lotty Herschel - Austrian refugee grown into a Chicago surgeon - to a childlike fifty-something calling himself Paul Radbuka and claiming Sofie as his mother. Radbuka, he tells the world, was a concentration camp orphan kidnapped by a Nazi as an "immigration ticket" to the States. Radbuka asserts that his identity is a recovered memory, supported by documents found in the papers of his late "father," Ulrich. None of these people has anything to do with the late Aaron Sommers, an African-American factory worker from Chicago's near south side. Through some unknown (and poorly outlined) connection, Radbuka attaches himself to Vic's friend and mentor Lotty, her companion Max Lowenthal, and their childhood friend Carl Tisov. How and why he chooses these three from among millions of Chicagoans isn't very clear. What is clear is that Radbuka is one unstable puppy; demonstrating mood swings worthy of a menopausal she-bear. He's also slippery as the proverbial eel, changing stories to suit the situation and forever hiding behind the skirts of his therapist, the monolithic Rhea Wiell. Greatly disturbed by Lotty's reaction to the name Sofie Radbuka - she fainted dead away upon hearing it - Vic takes it upon herself to figure out who this woman is (or was), and why Paul is so adamant that he's somehow related to Lotty. Or to Max. Or maybe to Carl; Radbuka's not very particular. Luckily for Warshawski's bank account, she's able to combine her legitimate investigation with her search for the Radbuka family secrets. Naturally, she trips over a dead body or two; finds cryptic, coded papers, makes an intuitive leap or six, and ultimately ties all the disparate parts into a single neat package. Not bad for a day's work, eh? Muddy and Murky, Indeed One cannot deny the topicality of Total Recall's subject matter: Paretsky trotted out not just slave reparations for African Americans, but slave-labor reparations and the return of the savings and valuables of the European Jews (though she left out Japanese-American internees). She also tossed in the controversy over recovered memories, though that little issue got lost in the shuffle. Still, she gives all those issues short shrift, with only token discussion of the facts and figures concentrated in the rhetoric of a pair of flat characters who lead the two bands of protestors (an Orthodox rabbi and a Chicago Alderman). But Why? These days, it seems that every "serious" mystery writer needs to inject social commentary into his or her work. Often it's barely discernible, as in Jonathan Kellerman's subliminal politco-religious messages. Other authors are more overt about their views - one of the kitchen mystery series is particularly obnoxious on that score. Not every writer does it, not every reader catches it (you're less likely to notice if you're in agreement with whatever point's being made). In her eleventh V. I. Warshawski novel, Paretsky certainly has a tale she needs to tell: it's the story of the kindertransport, by which a few eastern European Jews sent their children to safety in England before the expanding war made such journeys impossible. It's a glimpse at untold treasures looted from holocaust victims by the Nazis, of billions in life insurance unpaid because "there is no death certificate." It's a tale of banks grown fat on deposits they know will never be paid out. It's a tale that needs to be told. It is, sadly, a tale poorly told, a saga forced uncomfortably into the mold of a mystery novel, even though it's a shockingly poor fit. Warshawski's case involves an African-American family from Chicago: the path from this simple investigatino to a megalithic conspiracy comprises fantastic leaps of coincidence; enormous gaps in time and space resolve themselves as if by miraculous fiat. Effecting the Plot The most confusing aspect of Total Recall is the character of Paul Radbuka. Not that he's obviously unstable, but that he so miraculously appears in the midst of Vic's circle of friends, that this off-beam intellect is apparently more capable detective than the professional V. I. seems to be. Paretsky has seemingly started with her message and worked backward into a novel, constructing a plot as she regresses. If one were to read the book backwards, Total Recall might be a better novel. But, alas, most of us would read it forwards, revealing a plot full of holes bound together with the fragile thread of coincidence and illogic. Characters? We Don't Need No Steenkin' Characters! Always adept at characterization, Paretsky has outdone herself here. The cast includes the usual inner circle of a Warshawski novel - Vic herself, her current lover (Morrell, in this case), her neighbor Mr. Contreras with the dogs, and Lotty and Max. Added to this is a stable of some of the most obnoxious personae ever to stalk the pages of a book. There's Radbuka the emotional chameleon and his fiercely protective therapist Rhea. There's a pimple-faced insurance agent with the unlikely name of Howie Fepple, and there's one loud-mouthed brat of a five-year-old named Calia. This batch of narcissists will drive you nuts with just a few pages of each! Overall Between unlikable characters and a plot that alternately plods and leaps with gay abandon, Paretsky's written the worst V. I. Warshawski novel of the series. Skip it. all content copyright © 2014 by scmrak
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