Customer Reviews

Small Town: A Novel (Block, Lawrence)

5 star:		(17)
4 star:		(17)
3 star:		(11)
2 star:		(10)
1 star:		(16)

 

 

I suspect that the reason this novel hasn't received a higher overall rating on Amazon is because of the character, Susan Pomerance, who is -- to put it politely -- sexually kinky in the extreme, and whose exploits doubtless were a turn off to many Lawrence Block fans, who don't expect this kind of soft porn in his books.

I didn't much like Susan either. At first I thought Block had made a major error in giving her a prominent role in the novel, and even after finishing Small Town with a considerable degree of satisfaction I still think it would have been a more comfortable book without Susan. That said, I have also come to realize that Block included Susan for the express purpose of making his readers uncomfortable. After all, Small Town is a book about the aftermath of 9/11, a time during which no New Yorker I know was anywhere near comfortable. Those of us who survived the attack -- whether or not we had family and friends who perished -- were all affected. Ultimately, life went on, just as it does for the characters in Small Town, but life was surely different, and probably always will be.

I think Block's view is that 9/11 literally unhinged many New Yorkers. The blasts at the Towers shattered our assumptions and expectations every bit as much as they shattered steel, glass and human lives, with the result that some of us, including Block's characters, dramatically changed our life views and, consequently, our behaviors. Seen in this light, Susan's behavior becomes more understandable, if not acceptable.

And Susan aside, the others characters, particularly the Carpenter, are very well drawn. They operate in what is essentially a new world, which changed within the space of a couple of hours and which forces them to confront their fears and privledges in a way they never have. And the plot offers all of the suspense and credible detail we have come to expect from Block. It kept me turning pages into the night, which is, for me, the acid test of a good book.

So, if you enjoy a good story and don't mind being challenged by an unexpected anti-heroine like Susan, read Small Town, whose main character is, in the end, New York City itself.

Despite all the favorable reviews I read in this space, I thought this was an awful book. Major plot lines were left hanging. Heroine has outrageous sex with many people in bizarre and embarrassing ways, ends up loving the protagonist -- who still may be a murderer. Everybody ends up happy when they shouldn't, when in reality they wouldn't. The 9/11 stuff is so unreal. There is no motivation here that makes sense. This is the kind of stuff that Harold Robbins was famous for, but at least he tried to tie things together; Block doesn't even make the effort. If this is the kind of stuff you guys are reading and enjoying, you need to
move up in the world and try other authors of some quality.

Overall, I enjoyed Small Town a lot. It's a very compelling, interesting and somewhat challenging read. In Block's Small Town, New York City in the aftermath of 9/11 is really a small town filled with men and women from all walks of life whose aspirations fears, disappointments and triumphs are all interconnected by bonds as unspeakable as they are unseen. The plot involves a series of apparently unconnected serial killings, which in the warped viewpoint of the Carpenter are intended as "sacrifices" in order to help the city and its dwellers to be reborn out of the chaos and destruction caused by 9/11. Block is at the top of his game in terms of plot development and character development; however, Small Town represents a big departure from what fans of his books have become used to. Small Town is not, as is obvious if you've read the very mixed reviews by other Amazon readers, a book for everyone. Many criticize it for its very graphic and erotic sexual passages as well as for the ending leaving too many threads untied. While I understand how the book could be criticized for these reasons, I, personally, didn't share these opinions. In fact, I think the sexual relationships, while very graphic, were integral to the main story line. And while it's true that some sub-story lines are not as closed as readers expect in a novel, in real life not all stories have a clear, precise ending. As I said, earlier, Small Town is a somewhat challenging read in that you have to really pay attention to some of the small clues Block provides. If you don't, you might find, as I did, that you'll have to go back and reread some areas to understand its connection to the outcome. I hope this review is helpful to you in deciding whether Small Town is a book for you -- because it's not for everyone.

The already best-selling Block (he of the Matt Scudder series and others) seems to have decided to write something aimed at "block-buster bestseller"dom for the beach-reading crowd, and adopted all the tropes of the type -- hot kinky sex, picnic-basket-busting length (541 closely printed paperback pages), unlikely connections between overblown characters each with a mini-biography, etc. This is especially annoying since I had just finished an early (perhaps the first) Matt Scudder novel, "The Sins of the Fathers", a taut, clean read if there ever was one.

There is an interesting plot lurking in here somewhere, and we get a taste of what could have been when the book starts out with a bang -- gay, recovering-addict Jerry Pankow is making the morning rounds of his cleaning service -- a few bars, a whorehouse, a few apartments -- when he stumbles on a body. We're getting to know and like Jerry, sympathize with his somewhat silly situation (he'd done a masterful job of cleaning/ruining the crime scene), and want to find out what's next when ... bang ... we're in Susan Pomerance's art gallery. And so on ... there are at least six virtually co-equal ensemble characters who have to be juggled: in addition to Jerry and Susan, the hyper-sexed art dealer, there are Francis J Buckman, ex police comish, Maury Winters, the best damn lawyer in the city, not-yet-famous author John Blair Creighton, and of course our friendly serial killer, The Carpenter. At best it's hard to keep this many characters straight (for reader or author), but Block has a habit of not using names when switching viewpoints, and there are probably another half dozen or so characters who get nearly equal treatment, at least for one or two appearances.

Long passages of backstory and flashback (not just for the major characters, but for seemingly every spear carrier) drag the pace of the plot, and are often confusingly mixed with the baseline action or thoughts. We even get the life history of a restaurant owner where several characters eat, drink and flirt, an intersting story admittedly but contributing nothing to the plot but distraction. We also find out way too much about each character's stream of what-passes-for-consciousness.

And a final whinge -- it is never explained why the cops didn't find the rabbit, a big glaring 800 pound gorilla lurking in the background for almost half the book. Or maybe that was intentional, since, according to the reviews, his Matt Scudder book "All the Flowers are Dying" continues from loose ends in this book.

That said, there is a sort of interesting plot hidden among the great gobs of flab, and the book eventually does get moving, even exciting ... about page 400. And the hot kinky sex is, well, hot kinky sex, and keeps the pages turning where the plot doesn't. And Block is a dang good writer, in a page-by-page sense, so there are plenty of well written passages. This could have been an good book at half the length, though maybe that would have made some flaws more apparent.

I read this book start to finish and kept waiting for the sex scenes to matter. Please,if this is the first Lawrence Block book for you, PLEASE put it back and start with the Matthew Scudder series, from the first to the last, then go on to the other series, and ONLY when you are a diehard Lawrence Block fan, as am I, consider trying this book. I must agree with the reviewer who said Block waited for his mother to die to write these icky and irrelevent sex scenes. I am not a goody-goody, I just didn't see the point (so to speak). Reading this book before you are a Block lover could cause you to miss some excellent, compelling writing by a true NYC lover.

The story begins with the murder of a female real estate agent who picked up a man in a bar and took him home. When she's discovered the next morning by her cleaning man, the police are quick to settle on John Blair Creighton, a largely unsuccessful mid-list writer, as the likely culprit. (The suspect's profession, not incidentally, allows the author an opportunity to deliciously skewer the venality of the publishing industry.) While true that he did meet her and apparently go home with her, Creighton certainly doesn't remember killing her. Of course, he was very drunk at the time and might have blacked out.

Even with Creighton under arrest, however, the killings don't stop. Next to come is a brutal triple murder in a whorehouse, followed by the firebombing of a gay bar. Soon another suspect appears, a bland, ordinary insurance executive who lost everything that mattered to him on 9/11, including, it seems, his very soul.

The 2001 terrorist attack on New York City forms an ever-present backdrop to the conjoined stories of Small Town. The many characters that populate it are still reeling from the loss, trying to make sense out of a world gone mad, always reminded by the stark hole in their beautiful skyline. Their pain, the city's pain, is an important of their lives still, and thus an important part of the plot.

Block has written a masterpiece for his 52nd novel, a stunning work that draws on all his powers as a storyteller and chronicler of the darker side of the human psyche. Never before has he painted on such a broad canvas, and never before has he attempted to go so deep into the hearts and minds of so many different characters. Breaking out of the more traditional mystery mold was a gamble, but it has paid off in spades. Small Town is one of the finest books of Block's, or any, career.

Reviewed by David Montgomery, Mystery Ink

you know how in lots of big books there is one storyline that you don't care a lot about, and secretly think you have to wade through to get to the storylines you do are excited about? Well, about 2/3 of the way through SMALL TOWN I felt that all of the storylines were that one. None of them were bad per se, but none of them captured me and I kept waiting for it to get better until the book ended and I realized that it wasn't getting better.

I'm a huge Lawrence Block fan, but this book just didn't do much for me...

While this book does delve into one character's somewhat lurid sex life, it is not what the book is about. The other Block fans seem to be expecting a Scudder-style mystery, and this is not that book. I've been a Block fan for many years, and this was one of his more enjoyable books. It is lurid at times, be warned. I didn't find it too distracting; the character's attitude of being thrilled by her bad-girl antics and power games may come off as puerile, but that's the character, not the writing.
The other characters- the writer, the Carpenter, and the commish, are all well drawn and engrossing. The story lines all criss-cross and wind together, and that is the point- that New York can really be like a small town. Don't let the one-star outraged reviews keep you away from this. If you're a Block fan, or intrigued by the blurbs, give it a read.

I must say that this was the second Lawrence Block book I read. The first was "Hit List" about the hit man Keller. Honestly after reading that one I never wanted to read another Block book. It wasn't bad, just boring beyond belief. As sometimes happens in life though plans changed. I ended up with another Block book in my hands. This one was "Small Town."

"Small Town" is the most honest, graphic, and cathartic look at NYC post 9/11 I have seen. The pain of that day is directly reflected in the conversations and in the characters' actions. However the true pain and grief is best displayed in the characters themselves. The police Commissioner having an illicit affair is the perfect metaphor for the city after 9/11. All of the characters - whether intentional or not - strike me as metaphors for different aspect of the city itself. They also strike me as metaphors for the awakenings and knee jerk repressions that followed that day.

This book is full of subtexts, themes, metaphors, symbolism, and heart. It is has all of the components literature professors tell us to look for. Yet it also has that gritty edge that you expect from a noir/pulp writer like Block. Never once does he look away from the true depths of the human experience in those first months and years following 9/11. He hands us all of the heartache, love, hate, and uncertainty in a very raw manner.

I wouldn't hesitate to call this one of my favorite books of all time. It is a richly textured and emotionally deep literary masterpiece. A rare gem in a time when the lowest common denominator is usually the intended target. I whole-heartedly recommend this book to anyone and everyone that enjoys literature with an edge, or noir with a touch of sophistication.

One warning before I finish. This book is not intended for those that are easily offended by sexuality. Even though it does serve a huge purpose for the plot (and as a metaphor of sorts), the sex is graphic. There are scenes that will be described as kinky by the more adventurous. The more puritanical will call it perverted.

6/05 I wrote the review below shortly after the book came out, and liked it more this time - 4 stars. I still think the sex is overdone, but I have more respect for how Block showed the city's pain post-9/11, and how even in that vast metropolis a feew lives can intersect and create, indeed, a small town of support.

I like mystery/thrillers. I tend to like Lawrence Block's books a lot, all the way from punster Bernie the Bookselling Burglar to the dark paths trod by Matt Scudder. But Small Town, which is independent of his usual characters, is a major disapopintment.

It's a shame, because the first 90% of the book is riveting, even if an often distasteful sub-plot that pushes the boundaries of soft-core porn trails along the major action.

A serial killer who comes to be called the Carpenter is on the loose in the months leading up to 9/11/02. He had retired shortly before that terrible day that the Towers fell, and lost his pregnant daughter, son-in-law and son in the collapses, and then his wife a few weeks later to a suicide. He is taking revenge on the city that betrayed him, and his seemingly random methods puzzle the police. His first crime is blamed on a crime writer who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and this character's story is well told, including marvelous bits about the NYC publishing world.

A retired but youthful police commisioner finds his interest piqued, and attempts to find the Carpenter before it's too late, as he surmises that the Carpenter has his major kill planned for the first anniversary of his family's deaths.

The writer and the commissioner share a woman who owns a contemporary folk art gallery, who has decided to base her life on sexual gratification (and it's explicit, folks).

While the saga of the Carpenter is brought to the close, none of the other story lines are. Not satisfactorily, at least. As I had found myself caring about these characters, I was furious! Such a cheap ploy makes me want my hours of reading restored to my life.