Hobart Bosworth — actor, producer, director — is seeing his career head toward oblivion. Having made his name on a handful of productions adapting the works of superstar novelist Jack London, Bosworth sees only one way to save his livelihood from crumbling: another London film, yes, but more importantly, one written by London himself. There’s only one problem: London no longer speaks to Bosworth, wrongly believing the Hollywood player cheated him out of thousands of dollars.
Desperate, Bosworth heads to London’s spacious California ranch in 1915 to confront his old friend, only to find it burned to the ground. The author’s stepsister tells Bosworth that the writer has fled to paradise — more specifically, the islands of Hawaii — leading the aging idol on an adventure of a lifetime, which Paul Malmont details in JACK LONDON IN PARADISE.
On his sea voyage toward Hawaii, Bosworth begins an affair with a married actress and tells her of his plans (“The dog writer?” she asks, which Malmont turns into a good running gag). After picking up a silent sidekick and checking out a volcano, Bosworth locates his old pal. It takes some explaining and duking it out in the boxing ring to get London to allow Bosworth back in his life.
Near-broke, London agrees to pen a screenplay; he’ll put aside the sexual memoir he’s been working on to do it. But it’s not that easy: He’s plagued with kidney stones and other ailments that require morphine injections, and he wonders if writing isn’t killing him. There are other wounds, too: He and his second wife both aren’t quite over each other’s infidelities, and they still weep for the death of their infant daughter, whom they regret naming Joy. And then there’s the matter of London’s state of mind, as he starts having visions based upon the myths of the islands — some harmless, some that put his life in grave danger.
PARADISE is Malmont’s second novel, following 2006’s acclaimed THE CHINATOWN DEATH CLOUD PERIL. Although this sophomore effort is another pas de deux between two real-life creative figures, it’s written in a different style, eschewing the tropes of pulp for those of London’s literary adventures. That’s not to say CHINATOWN’s many admirers won’t also enjoy this; they should, more often than not, provided they don’t expect a stylistic dupe. It may not have CHINATOWN’s resonance, but it carries its class.
It’s like London’s own works, in which the struggles are as about man vs. himself as they are man vs. nature. And Malmont writes chewy, meaningful dialogue for London that sounds a lot like something the author would have said: “Jealousy is more powerful than love, for it is the twisted perversion of love itself forged over a fire of anger.”
A lot a little too circular in the second half, this is a touching novel filled with real pain — a manly man’s love story of friendship and betrayal. —Rod Lott
“He let his hand drift down her body, rising over the soft curve at her breast, then sliding down her slim waist and over her hips and around to rest on her bottom. … He wanted her now. He wanted to take her roughly and drag her down to his stateroom one last time, to feel her nipples between his lips.”
OTHER BOOKGASM REVIEWS OF THIS AUTHOR:
• THE CHINATOWN DEATH CLOUD PERIL by Paul Malmont
