Customer Reviews

True Confessions: A Novel

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4 star:		(2)
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"True Confessions" wraps a first-rate murder mystery inside a complex family drama that transpires within the genteel power of the Catholic Church. The story is made memorable (and frequently hilarious) by John Gregory Dunne's chuckle-a-page expositions of Irish Catholic foibles. Lt. Tom Spellacy of the LAPD, a semi-corrupt but competent detective, jousts with his partner, his superiors in the department, and his brother, the Rt. Rev. Msr. Desmond Spellacy, chancellor of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. Dunne is to Irish Catholics as Philip Roth is to Eastern European Jews, and "True Confessions" is Dunne's "Goodbye Columbus"--a must-read.

Several previous reviewers have mentioned that they regularly go back and reread this book, and I count myself among them. "True Confessions" is in fact a triumph and John Gregory Dunne's best work. When it is said that a good novel by a "genre" writer "transcends the genre," it usually means that the author has written a novel good enough to be judged apart from that genre. In "True Confessions," John Gregory Dunne writes a book that achieves the status of literature while deliberately staying within the conventions of the detective novel, a much more difficult task indeed.

The plot of "True Confessions," as one previous reviewer noted, is really a MacGuffin for an exploration of the author's more serious concerns. The story revolves around a fictional version of the real-life murder of a woman in the 1940s in Los Angeles, the "Black Dahlia" case. Detective Tom Spellacy catches the case, which through sensational newspaper stories catches the popular imagination, and with it the pressure to solve the case.

Tom sees himself as a failure, a one-time boxer with a glass jaw, now an LAPD detective trapped in a loveless marriage with a wife slowly losing her mind, a kid who never met a candy bar she didn't like, and a guilty conscience not entirely undeserved. His brother Monsignor Desmond "Des" Spellacy, by contrast, is bright, likeable, and ambitious, pious and practical at the same time. He is the handsome war veteran, the "Parachuting Padre," who has set his sights on a Bishop's miter and perhaps a Cardinal's hat. He is charismatic and careful, as he makes his way through the duties of life as a professional Catholic. He woos the faithful on his weekly radio show, and works the owners of auto dealerships and mortuaries on the golf course to increase the building fund of the Archdiocese. He knows that all men sin, and though his conscience is sometimes troubled, he is not above selling indulgences to achieve the greater good.

These very different brothers, who spend their occasional time together shadow-boxing about sin and absolution, corruption and salvation, come into collision with one another as Tom's investigation of the underlying murder increasingly involves Des. Before the story is over, both will make choices of immense consequence for themselves and each other.

Tom's partner is a hard-boiled, wisecracking cop who eats off the cuff at his favorite "cheap Chinese" restaurant, and gets his suits from movie studios after every Sydney Greenstreet movie finishes shooting. He is Tom's, and the reader's, Falstaff, confronting us with his queasy morals, inconvenient truths, and asides about life and the job that make the reader laugh in spite of himself. Dunne also takes a hard, and sometimes hilarious look at the Catholic Church after the war. It is run as a modern American corporation, selling rosaries and salvation as if they were Chevrolets.

The great achievement of "True Confessions" is that Dunne deliberately chooses such a seemingly confining "ring," the pulp genre of detective fiction, within which to present the spiritual and temporal fights which engage the two main characters. He uses every convention of hard-boiled Chandler-esque postwar L.A. detective novels, every stereotype of Irish-American cops, priests, and politicians, and turns them all on their heads to present a tough, unsentimental view about what the country looked like as "The American Century" entered its second half.

In "True Confessions," Dunne manages to sort out facts from fiction, the real from the romanticized, true human conflicts for which there may be no resolution from the satisfying but empty trickery of the last chapter of a whodunit. With a seemingly dead-on and often wickedly funny portrayal of the voices, thoughts, prejudices, shortcuts taken and deals made, by real people in real life, he tells a story of power, ambition, mendacity, failure, occasional tenderness, and maybe even redemption. He turns the stew of pulp fiction into a true cassoulet for his readers.

Strong language, strong everything. This is an adult novel in the best and most serious sense of the word. A "Father Brown" mystery it ain't.

This is a deeply thoughtful novel that is also terrifically funny. It is a wonderful mystery that is also a profound exploration of how power corrupts in the most subtle ways. And it is a great period piece about Los Angeles 50 years ago.

The dialog is superb; the characters are believable; and the struggle for truth and hope come to matter to the reader. And after you've read the book, watch the movie: DeNiro and Duvall give the performances of their lives.

I love this book. I have read it many times and still continue to read it. Why?

I love the protagonist, a cynical, hard-boiled Irish cop who picks up on every defect of everyone he meets and offers up a wisecrack that makes you laugh out loud. If he can substitute a street word for any noun, verb, adjective, pronoun, or conjunction, he does--but in such a precise context and rhythm that it makes sheer poetry.

This book is not for the squeamish--he uses four-letter words, racial slurs, racial epithets. He includes people of his own Irish-Catholic background. As a matter of fact, they are often the focus of his caustic observations. I love every minute of it. I eat it up. Like I said, it's sheer, stimulating poetry--it's like a whiff of salt breeze or the sting of salt water on an open wound; it's like a very dry martini.

Then there's the fact that Dunne has created a noir novel that is exactly like film noir. It envelops you like an L.A. fog and never really dissolves. L.A. in the 1940s was the perfect setting for noir--as Roman Polanski proved in his great film CHINATOWN. Like all great writing, Dunne produces this aura as if by magic.

So if you've ever ridden in a squad car, dressed in a silent-movie vamp costume, on a Halloween night in the city, because you've lost your way and the cops are trying to keep you out of harm's way, but they can't resist turning the red light on and blowing the siren, and taking you along on a few calls on the way home just to show off; if you've ever hitchhiked on the Jersey Turnpike and been picked up by a cop, and ended up havin g a conversation about all the important things until day breaks and he brings you to a truck stop; if you have a soft spot for cops; if you don't mind bad language; if you like mysteries; if you have a sense of humor; if you love noir, you might give this book a try. I think it is a masterpiece.

I initially purchased this book in 1980, and have read and re-read it at least once a year, ever since! The cynicism Dunne uses to capture the emotions of the two main characters. The Spellacy brothers, Des, the Priest, and Tom, the cop, not only establish their parts in the murder of the "Virgin Tramp," but also come to grips with their own Irish Catholic life journeys. This one is a "must read" for both mystery lovers and those who enjoy a smile when they read!

True Confessions is so well written that you may not realize that the apparent lack of style IS the style. No flowery prose, not a wasted word. Expert craftsmanship.

Other reviewers have described the book as a mystery story. No such thing. The mystery is a MacGuffin, and the plot itself is just a device to, first, gradually reveal to us the characters, and, then, subject each of them to self-revelation and growth.

Although there is much irony and many clever bon mots in the story, its overall tone is bleak. I give it only four stars because its lack of sunlight mars our acceptance of it as reality. The film, on the other hand - an excellent adaptation - contains perhaps too much sunlight.

Summary: a great read, but don't hang your interest on its being a detective story.

dunne writes well in this page turner about the cross currents among the movers and shakers in los angeles. cops, priests, businessmen and murder are all blended together in this excellent read.

much better than the movie.

I have never seen "True Confessions" the movie, and I never had really thought about Mr. Dunne until reading Joan Didion's "The Year of Magical Thinking" about his decline and death. He seemed like perhaps the more interesting of the two, and worth a trial.

At first I thought, uh-oh, another book with an Irish-Catholic family with a cop and a priest as brothers. And, my, the language is certainly not for someone easily offended by vulgarity. As an example, the n-word and many other ethnic and racial terms appear frequently. You can get away with that in a book set in the post-war 1940s, I guess.

After putting those aside, I really warmed to the story. Mr. Dunne wrote so clearly and with deceptive descriptive power. The murder mystery part of the plot hardly matters to the novel's drive, as the focus is more on the brothers and their relationship to their respective worlds, and secondarily to each other.

Tom is more of a regular cop, sometimes effective and sometimes not, hampered by a frankness, cynicism, and unwillingness to play the games, such that his career and personal life are nothing much. Des is a rising star or near-star in the church, using some of those same skills that his brother as, only with much more effectiveness and attention to his superiors. His true talent is as a "getting things done" guy, on path to be a bishop, and not for his holiness. One can't help but wonder what he's really doing as a priest.

Mr. Dunne does not paint a respectful picture of the LAPD, but that's nothing new for crime or detective stories set in LA. Many authors are doing the same theme today, 30 years later, and not necessarily with any better writing. What is more disturbing for potential readers is the image of the Catholic Church, concentrating more on fund raising, building projects, and its own prideful objectives than in the holiness of its leaders and members. Des's "getting things done" skills are often applied to making deals and dispensing favors in return for "donations" or other benefits.

And don't forget to look the other way when it's inconvenient not to. Ultimately, the deal making leads to the downfall of Des through guilt by association, if not worse. The story is not one of redemption, because it's not clear that the main characters ever really regret what happens or some of their major decisions. This seems to be just the way it is and you may get it in the end or you may not. I'm not sure there is a truly appealing character in the entire cast. Is that Mr. Dunne's view of human nature or merely a particular theme in this novel?

The Spellacy Brothers: Tom, a copy and Des, a priest, find their lives and pasts entertwining amid the investigation of a grisly murder of "The Virgin Tramp." This book, based, in part on the infamous, never-solved, Black Dahlia murder in 1947 L.A., explores the byzantine and corrupt world of both the L.A. Police force and the Catholic church hierarchy.

An outstanding mystery story, period piece and a true joy for anyone who knows and loves L.A. This book is also one of my spouses favorites and has been read by both of us many times. Unlike the general populace, we also loved and understood the movie which was superbly cast and shot.

The secular and the divine meet at a murder scene, that of the Black Dahlia appropriately recast as a desecrated Virgin Mary (the Virgin Tramp). Where else but in the city of the Fallen Angels? A bit hard to get into at first reading, one goes back to "True Confessions" like a devout his rosary, its evocative power undiminished.