Ken Bruen has revitalized contemporary noir crime fiction while developing a style distinctively his own. Throughout his two running solo series (the gut-wrenching Jack Taylor novels and the riotous British police procedurals featuring Inspector Brant), he has fused his native Irish poetic sentiments with classic hardboiled prose to create a voice that is clipped and minimal, but ripe with emotion.
In ONCE WERE COPS, his first stand-alone since 2006′s AMERICAN SKIN, Bruen stretches this voice to the extreme. And it’s not hyperbole to state that no other writer could pull off something like this and make it so profoundly effective.
Growing up in Galway, Michael O’Shea — Shea to his friends — could never imagine being anything other than a policeman. So like his father, he joins The Guards. But Shea leads a dangerous double life. Dark, overpowering urges consume him, and he sometimes “zones out” and becomes a sociopathic murderer with a fondness for women’s necks. Then, an exchange program with the American police force opens, and Shea sees it as the road to his future. So he pulls in some favors from his superiors and lands a plum assignment in New York City.
With its long tradition of Irish officers, the NYPD welcomes Shea with open arms. But then he’s partnered with a rough, unstable street cop known to everyone as Kebar — named after the K-Bar, a short metal stick he uses to dispense his won violent justice. After an anticipated antagonistic beginning, Shea finally proves himself, and he and Kebar become a successful and formidable street team.
But then Shea discovers’s Kebar’s weakness: his sister, Lucia, a victim of child abuse whose mentality never developed to accompany her adult age. Kebar spends every cent of his salary to keep her in a private facility, but when the financial strain becomes too much, Kebar sells out and becomes a mob informer. Shea, however, can’t live with that, so he devises a plan to bring Kebar down while advancing his own reputation and career.
A casual opening to any page tells you right off that this is unlike any novel you are likely to read. Most paragraphs are only one or two sentences long. And those slightly longer are set off with a reverse indentation — where every line after the first is indented. It looks more like extended free-verse poetry than a crime novel. But don’t let this throw you. Once started, you’ll immediately discover how this style matches the cadence and forcefulness of a spoken voice — precisely Bruen’s intention.
This style is maintained even when the perspective switches from Shea’s first-person narration to a third-person observation of Kebar and the other characters. It’s slightly awkward at first, but the powerful and hypnotic prose pulls your eye and mind along as you make your way through the unexpected twists and turns of the plot.
The overall result is stunning, especially how Bruen masters the enviable technique of packing so much dark emotion into so few words. There are echoes of other noir craftsmen, such as Richard Stark, James Sallis and even James M. Cain. But again, the Irish-flavored sentiment and angst — combined with the fascination of American slang and pop culture — make it unmistakably Bruen.
Yet as impressive as it is, his readers will agree that this is an extension of his style and not the best way to first experience him. So newcomers should seek out THE GUARDS or AMERICAN SKIN beforehand. But don’t dawdle. You don’t want to miss the joy of experiencing one of the darkest, most unforgettable crime novels of this soon-fading year. —Alan Cranis
OTHER BOOKGASM REVIEWS OF THIS AUTHOR:
• BUST by Ken Bruen and Jason Starr
• THE MAX by Ken Bruen and Jason Starr
• SLIDE by Ken Bruen and Jason Starr
Related posts:
- The Max
- Q&A with THE MAX’s Jason Starr
- Slide
- The Triumph of the Thriller: How Cops, Crooks, and Cannibals Captured Popular Fiction
- Bust
