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25 of 26 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Another 5 Star From A Gifted Writer, October 12, 2002
This review is from: The Killing Kind (Hardcover)
John Connolly is one fine writer: not only are plot and characters exceptionally well done, but his prose style is close to poetic. I re-read sections simply because the style was so grand. And he improves with each book. His protagonist in all three books is Charlie Parker, an ex-cop who left the force when his wife and child were brutally murdered in Connolly's first book, "Every Dead Thing". Characters introduced in this book follow through all three, so while "The Killing Kind" can be read on its own, many of the references to Parker's past can be better understood by a reading of the previous books. Which ain't all bad, folks, because, as I've said, this is one fine writer. Here, Parker is investigating the death of a young woman who was conducting research into a religious cult. No plot giveaways from your friendly reviewer, but be advised that the bad guy, "Mr. Pudd" is REALLY scary, and the uncertainty of the outcome persists to the very last page. I cannot recommend this book too much or praise Connolly's skills too highly. It's a "great read". And for fans, be advised that the fourth Parker novel, "The White Road", is available now from Amazon.com.uk. Trust me on this one, guys; enjoyment is guaranteed.
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9 of 9 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Less gunfire, more terrifying anyway, February 19, 2004
The first two Charlier Parker novels, by Irish journalist John Connolly, were violent and very disturbing, pocked with gunfire and dead bodies, and visions of horrors from the afterlife. Parker himself is a strange, tortured soul, who can see those who have been killed violently, so that he can't ignore them and return to his quiet life. This third Parker book is even nastier in some ways: the author has managed to make things even more sinister by making the violence more dramatic, more creepy, more hidden. In this installment, Parker's relegated himself to watching wayward husbands and doing boring industrial security work. He imagines that his presence somehow makes violent people worse, or perhaps brings them out of the woodwork. He's patched up his relationship with Rachel and made peace with the world, and now is trying to make ends meet without killing anyone. This reverie is disturbed by Jack Mercier, a retired senator who is wealthy and wishes to hire Parker to investigate a murder. Initially reluctant, Parker becomes engrossed in the case and those who quickly become suspects, largely a strange, reclusive cult of religious fanatics called The Fellowship. They appear outrageous and silly, not particularly dangerous if repugnant in their beliefs (which range from anti-abortion to anti-semitism) and somewhat nuts. Parker suspects something deeper, and soon discovers that he's right. The book travels from there, with a plethora of wonderful characters, from a mob boss to a very different porn producer to a Jewish assassin with no face to a bad guy with a strange fascination for spiders. All are drawn interestingly, with wonderful dialog and mannerisms, and prose that makes you think this might even be poetry. I enjoyed the first two Charlier Parker novels a great deal. This third one isn't anywhere near as violent and bloody as the first two, but given the haunting images that the author paints as he writes his books, the shootouts aren't really needed. Instead, the murky atmosphere almost makes this into a Clive Barker novel, without the supernatural nasties. Instead, your skin crawls from spiders and strange characters who've been killing for decades. For me that's more affecting, not less.
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12 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A new hope!, February 6, 2003
This review is from: The Killing Kind (Hardcover)
I have a confession to make. I am a murderer. I killed my love for the detctive story by reading too many novels that were just too bad. I never thought I'd appreciate a crime novelist the way I did Ed McBain when I was younger. And then along came John Connolly, creeping up on me, hiding in the shadows, lurking, and then attacking without warning. This is the best crime novel I have read in years, for two reasons. First of all, the language is exquisite. Connolly writes like a poet, and the first few pages where he described the "honeycomb world" is worth the price of the book alone. Second of all, Charlie Parker, the main character. With a dry cynicism as sharp as his wit, he delivers one-liners one after one. I found myself going back to re-read passages many times during the course of this book, for the humour alone. But this is not a funny book, not at all. I won't tell you any more about the story, as it deserves to develop on its own when you read it. Let me just warn you that the ending is not at all as good as the rest of the book, and that did make me sad. The last ten or so pages are standard Hollywood-drama, and lack the originality the reader has been spoiled with during the course of the novel. Still, Connolly pulls it off. "The Killing Kind", approved!
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