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These essays now might seem a little bit dated and heavy-handed; but they can still pack a wallop to the sophomoric mind and those just starting to struggle with life issues--Ventura is perfect for those in their 20s--or their midlife crisis. Put on a Mingus or Parker CD while you read, and it'll be quite an experience.
Ventura is a truly American voice on par with Dos Passos or Randolph Bourne (who? )
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I've done my share of Lit.101 and Great Books, yet this is the only book that came along and successfully conjured in flesh and blood the secret selves that people around me carry in concealment.
Never spent time in that corner of America myself, yet the book had made me see the world in a whole new light.
Strong stuff -- but medicine for all you seekers out there....
(Read his column too in Austin Chronicle if you like this.)
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Darn! I would really like to throttle my next-door neighbor and his noisy kids if it wasn't for that pesky Puritanism! Puerile self-justification. This book was a huge disappointment.
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Here is the crux of the novel which centers on a private eye who has bathed with and been raised by mobsters but has remained on the edge of the precipice without ever truly jumping in. It is an intriguing dilemma when his unstable brother unwittingly blabs "too much" in front of a grizzled old Outfit veteran, although as with most of the book what is spoken is half said, a half truth and, well, to be blunt, only half convincing. It's all well and good having the circle of insecurity forever turning in one's head, but surely no group of people are as instantly tuned in as Ventura's characters are. It seems half the time that, whoever it is, they are inexplicably able to read their conversation partner's mind, irrespective of intelligence, age or familiarity. What we get is a series of unfinished statements and knowing glances, which doesn't quite wash.
At first, I thought the insight into Vegas, spearheaded by the persona and rep of Frank Sinatra - a nifty touch - was about as illuminating as a travel guide, but without really being conscious of it, the constant bombardment and repetition of the town's warts and all, became quite intoxicating and ultimately revealing. I was less convinced by the insider knowledge of the mob, which seemed to focus on shock value and sensationalism, in marked contrast to the understatement of the book's overall tone. The little nuances that are so prevalent in Scorsese's films, for example, that help to humanize and rationalize are absent for the most part here.
The plot is convoluted and difficult to grasp with several intertwining threads that don't really mesh. However, in truth, most of the action happens in Rose's head, so that's not as disastrous as it sounds. Still, there seemed to be several loose ends that Ventura was content to let lie, which was a little unsettling.
Overall, I felt it was indulgent and melodramatic, teetering on the edge between dark social commentary about an inately corrupt city, and simply incoherent rambling, but the well expressed sadness and stolid, if misguided defiance of the central character, along with the admitted originality of the style was enough to earn 3 stars. Just.
Now, I feel like I owe somebody. Which is not a good feeling in the hardboiled world Ventura describes so bristlingly.
I have been turned on to a fusion of genres so rich and bountiful, that a full $24.99 pricetag seems only fair. So...if anyone wants to collect the remainder, no pistol-whipping will be necessary.
It's quite simply pulp poetry.
Crackling descriptions of the blood-in-your-urine doings of a Vegas private dick, featuring characters that jump off the page to pin your arms back while kicking your nuts and a geo-real Vegas that resonates with anyone who can "recite" the Strip from the Alladin to the Sahara and whose secret desire is to be buried at the YESCO graveyard.
It's great stuff, and if you've never heard of Michael Ventura, (cause I sure as hell hadn't) you'll soon be saying the same thing I am now..."How the hell is this guy not being read on every Flight 711, instead of Grisham?"
...
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