Month: June 2024

Books

Coming-of-Age Drama ‘Oregon’ by Don Winslow | Book Review

GuillermoLeave a comment

In high school, my friends and I made this plan to leave the Rio Grande Valley, make a break for it and head to Seattle. There were no wars then, at least none that would affect us in any way. The war on terror was still some years away when we drew up these plans. We would save enough money (how I would achieve this was still in question, as my only job was to focus on my studies) and once we graduated, we’d pack up and leave. Except in the two years we had til high school graduation, we all moved in different directions and got lost in the fog. Depressing, yes, but at least our ending isn’t anything like one Don Winslow churned up for his short story, Oregon.

In this coming-of-age story, which is also narrated by Ed Harris, we follow the lives of a group of boys trying to break free from a Rhode Island fishing town. They dream of moving to Oregon because, as they hear, it’s greener there and anywhere is better than their hometown. And with the Vietnam War lurking in the periphery, their best bet to avoid the draft is to go off grid. 

Unlike with Deep Hole and Dietrich, it isn’t difficult to relate to the boys in this story, especially if you come from a small town where “nothing happens.” It’s also not as problematic. While the gritty, bleak vibe of the Winslow stories I read, Oregon still has a kernel of hope buried somewhere within. It is my favorite of the three stories; although, I still have two Audible Originals stories by Winslow left, both of which are also narrated by Ed Harris.

Until next time, keep on huntin’. 

Books

Book Review: Dietrich by Don Winslow, performed by Ed Harris

GuillermoLeave a comment

Rating:

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Review:

Every Don Winslow book needs to be narrated by Ed Harris. His cadence just matches the grim, bleak worlds Don Winslow constructs. Maybe they’re worlds he traversed during his time as an investigator. In either case, they are worlds I don’t mind visiting for an hour and change. 

Much like Deep Hole, Dietrich follows a flawed man who, at times, seems to be going through the motions. In this case, the man is Richard Dietrich, a homicide detective, who is investigating an obvious mob hit during the summer of ‘77 in New York City. For those not into true crime, this is the summer where David Berkowitz, better known as the Son of Sam, stalked the streets in search of his victims. Despite having a witness to the crime, it seems that everyone on the force is in the mob’s pocket. 

Dietrich is one of those books where you feel for the protagonist, but you may want to seek professional help if you relate to them. 

Winslow crafts flawed characters and throws them into an equally flawed world. We follow as they see the horrors of their surroundings and try to make sense of it or die trying. Dietrich is no different. We witness a washed up detective knowing that he could go after a mob boss while also understanding that no one in the district attorney’s office will back him up. He understands that even his witness wouldn’t seem credible on the stage. Knowing these things, he has to make the difficult decision of going after the mob boss and potentially putting himself and his witness at risk, or letting the man get away with the crime. 

Until next time, keep on huntin’.

Books

The Last Thing He Told Me: A Compelling Page-Turner with Unforeseen Twists

GuillermoLeave a comment

I received this copy of The Last Thing He Told Me through a GoodReads giveaway; I am uncertain if it came from Marysue Rucci Books/Simon & Schuster, but that’s my guess. I don’t read where these books are coming from when I enlist in these raffles. I mean, free books. No brainer.

It’s not often when a book sucks me into the story immediately. It’s definitely one of those moments when reading outside my comfort zone really pays off. As it turned out, The Last Thing He Told Me wasn’t outside my lane; I just figured it would be. I figured it was a love story in the vein of Nicholas Sparks’ A Walk to Remember or The Notebook, where our narrator meets a guy, falls in love, and tragically loses him. 

In many ways, it is just like a Nicholas Sparks love story. In so many other ways, however, it is multitudes better.

Laura Dave doesn’t start at the beginning of Hannah and Owen’s love story. Instead, she places us at the beginning of its end. We see the events through Hannah’s eyes as they happen; we learn new details and remember old as she does. We are not merely onlookers or listeners of a story that has already happened; we are part of the story, taken through the winding paths, not truly knowing where they’ll lead. 

I am in awe of Dave’s writing, how she weaves the narrative through present and past, that we do get a full understanding of Hannah’s relationship with Owen: from the meet-cute to the moments where she suspects something is wrong. And instead of giving us the slow-burn, tragic love story, we are treated to a fast paced mystery that keeps us gripping our seats, trying to solve how it will end, and whether the two will be reunited by the ending.

I am cautious about watching the series adaptation on Apple TV+, but I’m nothing if not a glutton for book-to-series adaptations. 

Until next time, keep on huntin’. 

Books

Honest Review: Pimps, Hos, Playa Hatas, and All the Rest of My Hollywood Friends by John Leguizamo

GuillermoLeave a comment

Rating:

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Review:

Celebrity memoirs are a guilty pleasure. They usually offer zero substance or insight into someone’s mind outside of their need for attention and gratification. John Leguizamo’s Pimps, Hos, Playa Hatas, and All the Rest of My Hollywood Friends was no different. Although, I won’t lie; the $2.99 price tag* for the Kindle edition influenced my decision to purchase (and read) the book. I may have gone my entire life without reading it otherwise.

And maybe it would have been better had I not read it. Not that it was a terrible book; it did have several hilarious moments and the writing oozes with John Leguizamo’s wit and humor. You can almost hear his voice as you read each chapter. And it was a joy to read something not written by a white shock rocker, a white porn star, or a white actor**. He does give you some insight in his early life, and that of his parents. A lot of which feels familiar, like something playing out of my own childhood or the family of a close friend.

What grates me, however, is the language used throughout the book. While I kept reminding myself the book was first published in 2006, it still doesn’t excuse his usage of the n-word and the portmanteau he created with it using the slur spic. While I do pardon him for using spic (afterall, we get to use the slurs used against us as we see fit), it’s unnerving how he feels comfortable using one of the most vile words imaginable. And the way he spun his usage (as he spun Lenny Bruce’s and, in part, Richard Pryor’s, but do we really have to argue the difference between the two comedians?) “as a way to drain if of its negative force…and making it harmless, like defusing a bomb” is downright baffling considering the history of anti-blackness in the Latinx community—but that’s a topic worthy of its own post.

It’s not just n-word either; there are moments in the book rife with transphobic and homophobic, anti-semitic, and misogynistic terminologies and caricatures. It’s just an unfriendly reminder how bigoted the early years of the millennia was (and, in many ways, still is). It makes it hard to truly enjoy the book, as the moment he reaches a serious point, where he’s focusing on something major in his life, he suckerpunches you in the face with something unsettling and tee-heeing it a way as being just a comedian. It makes it hard to even suggest the book even though the good parts outweigh the ugly.

Give it a chance, or don’t. At this point, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t pay full price for it. Until next time, keep on huntin’.

*As of this writing, the price has returned to $9.99; however, it is free to read on Kindle Unlimited.
** Though I love the shit out of Alan Cumming.