Told through the journal of 12 yr. old Becca, the book is written in mountain jargon, warm, friendly, the kind that makes the reader want to drop in and sit a spell with them. After the loss of their MOm to consumption (probably TB), the children continue on living, attempting to make Papa laugh. This is what they feel their mother wants them to do. However, Papa is not in the mood for laughing, in fact, suicide is more on his mind. His fiddle has been silent, his social contacts nonexistent. The Christmas part is touching, when the children attempt to have a Christmas and papa rages that it will not happen. I was happy to see this made into a movie for TV as well, but of course, it is more touching to read the book.

It's hard to believe "Papa's Angels" wasn't written by Becca, the 13 year old girl who narrates the story. Becca, who can't speak, writes to tell the story of her 1930's Smoky Mountain family. With journal-like entries in "Becca's Book," she "says things with writin' that most of us can't say when we talk." She teaches us things that were never our own, without feeling we are being taught, and then they become ours. We learn that some people see nothing but their own misery and we learn about losing someone dear to us but being blessed with another. Gary Carden, authoring 70% of the story, skillfully weaves countless sayings and anecdotes into short narratives of interesting, entertaining and sometimes tear-evoking accounts of a family's struggle. He writes with such a smooth, natural mountain dialogue, the reader isn't offended. "Papa can't tell Santa Claus what to do." "His voice sounded like it had tears in it." and "Raise your head and open your heart." are memorable phrases made by Becca's brothers and sisters about their recently widowered father. "Papa's Angels" might be fiction, but it isn't make believe. You'll laugh in places and if you don't pause somewhere in this book because of the tears, you just ain't folk yet. A definite for children and adults.

I'm currently devouring every book in Bill Pronzini's fantastic Nameless Detective series, in order. So far, they've all been terrific, but I must admit that I had to force myself to finish this one. Is it because we actually learn the Nameless Detective's name! Is it that the final plot twist is foreshadowed to the point where a six-year-old could guess what was coming? The story is told in alternating points of view by Pronzini's PI and Wilcox's police detective; that technique worked far better in Pronzini's "Double" (which he wrote with his wife, Marcia Muller). "Twospot" was a disappointment, but I look forward to reading the rest of the series.

I read this book many years ago, and I'm reviewing it only to say that a previous reviewer had said that the book is not as good as others in the Nameless Detective series. I think it is a very strong addition. It would probably be better if the reader first read some of the Lt. Hastings novels by Collin Wilcox to get a feel for his character. Also, Nameless doesn't really have his name revealed. Hastings calls him Bill, but nowhere in the novel does it reveal that this is his true name. Sharon McCone, Marcia Muller's character calls him Wolf, but nowhere does she say that this is his real name. The Nameless Detective novels are my favorite private investigator novels, and the Lt. Hastings novels are my second favorite police procedural novels (second only to Ed McBain). I do agree that "Double" is a better novel, but "Twospot" is worth the reader's time.

This is the fifth novel that Wilcox wrote featuring Alan Bernhardt, struggling playwright and theatre director, moonlighting as a private-eye and usually getting himself into all sorts of danger. The books, billed as mysteries, are really more suspenseful than mysterious. In this one, Alan Bernhardt is contacted by wealthy, wheelchair-bound billionaire Raymond DuBois, who wants Alan to dispose of hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of stolen art, before the FBI closes in. The trick is, several people, working in several competitive little groups, have all been busy tracking the artwork--we're talking a Renoir, a van Gogh, and more--and they would have no scruples about lifting the paintings from Alan's dead body. Alan goes from worrying about DuBois setting him up for some kind of sting, where he takes the fall for handling a lot of hot artwork, to worrying about whether he can keep himself, his lover Paula, and his assistant on the case, Tate, alive while trading the paintings for cash. Naturally, there comes a point where everyone converges on the fourteen invaluable paintings, with intent to walk away with them...and, if possible, walk away with the sackful of money being offered for them too! It would be quite a payday, if not for Alan, then maybe for a shady insurance agent who is out of contact with his employers so he can clean up all by himself, a mystery-woman and her smart-aleck right-hand man (who did not have a problem shooting their way closer and closer to the paintings, before they learned of Alan Bernhardt's involvement), or even Mr. DuBois's loyal chauffeur, James, whom Alan starts to suspect is running his own sting, but hiding it well behind cap and poker-face.

I wish it had been a better book, but author Wilcox never seemed to break through a certain threshold when it came to these Alan Bernhardt crime novels. It's fun rooting for Bernhardt because, as soon as he takes a case, it turns out he's outnumbered, and outgunned, and biting off way more than he can chew. If it's not the Mob--like in the previous, and best, Bernhardt book, Find Her A Grave--it's several cadres of murderous art-thieves who specialize in the double-cross. But the story stays too simple in Full Circle, containing a few too many scenes of strategizing and other conversation. Wilcox presents his always readable style, and is successful at making you wonder just how it's all going to turn out, but when all is said and done, we needed more complications and danger throughout to make this memorable. Just once I would have liked to see Alan Bernhardt really put through the wringer. Full Circle should have gone into overdrive at some point, and it didn't. However, the moral dilemmas Bernhardt must work through, as he deals with stolen paintings that he participates in hiding from the FBI, do make him seem like a real guy in a crazy situation. I just wish it had gotten crazier.