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Hoke Moseley #4
The Way We Die Now
Look the Part. Die the Part.
A three-year-old murder case was coming together nicely. A killer Hoke had once put in prison has moved into the house across the street. And Hoke Moseley's daughter has blue hair. But now Hoke has to walk away from his life and pretend to be a bum. Turns out it isn't hard.
Hoke hands over his teeth, wallet, and gun on the hot Tamiani Trail -- the highway that connects Miami and Naples by way of the alligator-infested Everglades. Hoke's boss, Major Willie Brownley, has arranged this little undercover adventure. And what an adventure it will be.
In a dusty corner of South Florida, Hoke enters a world of Haitian migrant workers, soup kitchens, and forgotten whores. And in the searing heat he'll meet the man he's been sent to kill -- the most vicious beast in the land...
A three-year-old murder case was coming together nicely. A killer Hoke had once put in prison has moved into the house across the street. And Hoke Moseley's daughter has blue hair. But now Hoke has to walk away from his life and pretend to be a bum. Turns out it isn't hard.
Hoke hands over his teeth, wallet, and gun on the hot Tamiani Trail -- the highway that connects Miami and Naples by way of the alligator-infested Everglades. Hoke's boss, Major Willie Brownley, has arranged this little undercover adventure. And what an adventure it will be.
In a dusty corner of South Florida, Hoke enters a world of Haitian migrant workers, soup kitchens, and forgotten whores. And in the searing heat he'll meet the man he's been sent to kill -- the most vicious beast in the land...
289 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1988
30 people are currently reading
553 people want to read
About the author
Charles Willeford
85 books425 followersCharles Willeford was a remarkably fine, talented and prolific writer who wrote everything from poetry to crime fiction to literary criticism throughout the course of his impressively long and diverse career. His crime novels are distinguished by a mean'n'lean sense of narrative economy and an admirable dearth of sentimentality. He was born as Charles Ray Willeford III on January 2, 1919 in Little Rock, Arkansas. Willeford's parents both died of tuberculosis when he was a little boy and he subsequently lived either with his grandmother or at boarding schools. Charles became a hobo in his early teens. He enlisted in the Army Air Corps at age sixteen and was stationed in the Philippines. Willeford served as a tank commander with the 10th Armored Division in Europe during World War II. He won several medals for his military service: the Silver Star, the Bronze Star, two Purple Hearts, and the Luxembourg Croix de Guerre. Charles retired from the army as a Master Sergeant. Willeford's first novel "High Priest of California" was published in 1953. This solid debut was followed by such equally excellent novels as "Pick-Up" (this book won a Beacon Fiction Award), "Wild Wives," "The Woman Chaser," "Cockfighter" (this particular book won the Mark Twain Award), and "The Burnt Orange Heresy." Charles achieved his greatest commercial and critical success with four outstanding novels about hapless Florida homicide detective Hoke Moseley: "Miami Blues," "New Hope for the Dead," "Sideswipe," and "The Way We Die Now." Outside of his novels, he also wrote the short story anthology "The Machine in Ward Eleven," the poetry collections "The Outcast Poets" and "Proletarian Laughter," and the nonfiction book "Something About A Soldier." Willeford attended both Palm Beach Junior College and the University of Miami. He taught a course in humanities at the University of Miami and was an associate professor who taught classes in both philosophy and English at Miami Dade Junior College. Charles was married three times and was an associate editor for "Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine." Three of Willeford's novels have been adapted into movies: Monte Hellman delivered a bleakly fascinating character study with "Cockfighter" (Charles wrote the script and has a sizable supporting role as the referee of a cockfighting tournament which climaxes the picture), George Armitage hit one out of the ballpark with the wonderfully quirky "Miami Blues," and Robinson Devor scored a bull's eye with the offbeat "The Woman Chaser." Charles popped up in a small part as a bartender in the fun redneck car chase romp "Thunder and Lightning." Charles Willeford died of a heart attack at age 69 on March 27, 1988.
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November 11, 2015
This is the fourth and, sadly, the last entry in Charles Willeford’s series featuring Miami homicide detective Hoke Moseley. Hoke, to put it mildly, does not remotely resemble the homicide detectives that one usually encounters in crime fiction. Certainly, he’s nothing like Sonny Crockett and the other detectives of the television show, Miami Vice, which was so wildly popular at the same time this series was written.
Hoke is middle-aged and overweight; he dresses in leisure suits that be buys on the cheap. He has no teeth and is plagued by an ill-fitting set of dentures that constantly cause him problems. He lives in a small home that he shares with his two teenage daughters, the woman who was once his partner, and the ex-partner’s infant son. Hoke and his ex-partner are not romantically involved; they are both challenged financially and are sharing the house as a way of saving money. It’s a difficult arrangement which severely limits Hoke’s sex life, assuming that he had one. Obviously, it’s nothing like living alone on a great bachelor-pad houseboat with an alligator named Elvis.
Hoke is now working cold cases and is pursuing the case of a doctor who was murdered several years ago. He’s enjoying the challenge and is reasonably content until a man named Donald Hutton leases the house directly across the street. Years earlier, Hoke had arrested Hutton for first-degree murder. On the basis of the Hoke’s testimony, Hutton was sentenced to life in prison and publicly swore revenge against Hoke. But then ten years down the road, the conviction was overturned on a technicality; Hutton was freed and the D.A. decided not to retry the case. So now Hutton is living across the street from Hoke, sitting out in the yard all day, watching the comings and goings of Hoke’s daughters and his ex-partner, Ellita.
Hoke is obviously concerned about Hutton’s intentions, but there isn’t much he can do about the situation. Then, in the middle of all this, his boss assigns him to a very dangerous, one-man undercover operation in a neighboring county. Haitian immigrants are disappearing and the local sheriff fears that a particularly nasty farmer is employing the Haitians as migrant labor and then killing them rather than paying them off at the end of the season. As a favor to the sheriff, Hoke’s boss agrees to loan Hoke out to investigate.
All of these diverse strands come together to create another very entertaining story. Willeford invented some truly unique characters; the story is well-plotted, and there’s a fair amount of humor. The question that hangs over it all is whether Hoke will weather all the threats he suddenly faces to produce a solution to any of the crimes on his plate.
Charles Willeford toiled in the crime fiction genre for a number of years without getting the attention and respect that he genuinely deserved. That changed, finally, when he began the Hoke Moseley series. The books were critically acclaimed and sold much better than his earlier efforts. Sadly, though, Willeford died in 1988, the same year that this book appeared and didn’t get the chance to enjoy this success for very long. His passing was a loss for fans of crime fiction as well; it would have been great fun to follow Hoke Moseley through at least a few more books. But we are fortunate to have these four, and readers who haven’t yet discovered Willeford and Hoke Moseley might want to look for Miami Blues, the book that introduced this great character.
Hoke is middle-aged and overweight; he dresses in leisure suits that be buys on the cheap. He has no teeth and is plagued by an ill-fitting set of dentures that constantly cause him problems. He lives in a small home that he shares with his two teenage daughters, the woman who was once his partner, and the ex-partner’s infant son. Hoke and his ex-partner are not romantically involved; they are both challenged financially and are sharing the house as a way of saving money. It’s a difficult arrangement which severely limits Hoke’s sex life, assuming that he had one. Obviously, it’s nothing like living alone on a great bachelor-pad houseboat with an alligator named Elvis.
Hoke is now working cold cases and is pursuing the case of a doctor who was murdered several years ago. He’s enjoying the challenge and is reasonably content until a man named Donald Hutton leases the house directly across the street. Years earlier, Hoke had arrested Hutton for first-degree murder. On the basis of the Hoke’s testimony, Hutton was sentenced to life in prison and publicly swore revenge against Hoke. But then ten years down the road, the conviction was overturned on a technicality; Hutton was freed and the D.A. decided not to retry the case. So now Hutton is living across the street from Hoke, sitting out in the yard all day, watching the comings and goings of Hoke’s daughters and his ex-partner, Ellita.
Hoke is obviously concerned about Hutton’s intentions, but there isn’t much he can do about the situation. Then, in the middle of all this, his boss assigns him to a very dangerous, one-man undercover operation in a neighboring county. Haitian immigrants are disappearing and the local sheriff fears that a particularly nasty farmer is employing the Haitians as migrant labor and then killing them rather than paying them off at the end of the season. As a favor to the sheriff, Hoke’s boss agrees to loan Hoke out to investigate.
All of these diverse strands come together to create another very entertaining story. Willeford invented some truly unique characters; the story is well-plotted, and there’s a fair amount of humor. The question that hangs over it all is whether Hoke will weather all the threats he suddenly faces to produce a solution to any of the crimes on his plate.
Charles Willeford toiled in the crime fiction genre for a number of years without getting the attention and respect that he genuinely deserved. That changed, finally, when he began the Hoke Moseley series. The books were critically acclaimed and sold much better than his earlier efforts. Sadly, though, Willeford died in 1988, the same year that this book appeared and didn’t get the chance to enjoy this success for very long. His passing was a loss for fans of crime fiction as well; it would have been great fun to follow Hoke Moseley through at least a few more books. But we are fortunate to have these four, and readers who haven’t yet discovered Willeford and Hoke Moseley might want to look for Miami Blues, the book that introduced this great character.
May 9, 2022
Sergeant Hoke Moseley is still on the cold cases, this time investigating the suspicious death of a local doctor, thinking his two partners might’ve had him offed. And then he’s approached by his boss for an unexpected undercover mission outside his Miami jurisdiction to investigate a shady farmer in the small town of Immokalee where a number of Haitian workers have gone missing after working at his farm. Meanwhile, a murderer he put away years ago, who promised to fix Hoke’s wagon if he ever got out, has been let out early on a technicality and has moved into the house across from Hoke’s…
The Way We Die Now is the last Hoke Moseley book because it was Charles Willeford’s last book - he died the same year it was published, 1988. It’s a shame he didn’t get around to writing this series until the last years of his life because I’d’ve loved more Hoke novels and, the way he leaves things here, there definitely was room for more. But at least he wrote four of them and, while not the best of the bunch (that would be Miami Blues, the first book), The Way We Die Now is about as good as the others, which is to say it’s ok but has its flaws.
My summary makes it seem like there’s a lot happening in this fairly slender novel but it reads surprisingly padded and slow-moving. What annoys me the most about Willeford’s writing style is the overly-descriptive nature of it. So much of the book is full of pointless descriptions of rooms, scenery, etc. that have no impact on the narrative. Like when Hoke’s in Noseworthy’s Guesthouse, we can’t just have Hoke enter a room, we’ve got to read about how that room is decorated, the material of the floor, curtains, the pattern of the wallpaper, and so on. Ugh, it’s just so boring!
There are also a lot of scenes that are similarly needless. Instead of having Hoke blend into the Immokalee community and skip to the part where he meets the crooked farmer, Tiny Bock, we have to hear about him eating lunch in a diner, then working there for a bit, then going home with some trailer trash, then spending the night in the trailer, then going to the farmer’s market, then meeting Tiny Bock. Or Hoke going to Ellita’s dying uncle’s party, or all that crap about the no smoking indoors policy at the station. Snore.
They make the story frustratingly slow but not wholly unpleasant because Willeford is a fine writer and manages to make even superfluous scenes like these not seem like a complete waste of time. He brings to life the character of the Immokalee community and the kind of lives the people live there experience. It’s just a personal preference that I wanted to see a more tightly-focused story than what was Willeford’s own brand of storytelling.
And when he gets going, it’s really good. What goes down at Bock’s farm is exciting and I particularly loved that Hoke pauses to milk a goat! It’s such a funny detail. It’s in keeping with the character and Willeford’s approach to crime fiction - in the first book, when Hoke catches up with the serial killer and you think you’re going to get a chase/gunfight, Hoke instead lets the killer escape, then goes and gets a coffee and sandwich to plan his next move. I like the unanticipated and original way Willeford handles action scenes.
The cold case doctor murder is a decent storyline but the ex-con who swore revenge on Hoke takes a really weird and not wholly convincing left turn towards the end, although I expect, had Willeford lived to write another one, that incongruity would’ve been further explored.
If you’re only after the creme de la creme of the Hoke Moseley series, just read the first novel, Miami Blues, but none of the four books are that bad, so long as you’re a patient reader who doesn’t mind reading long-winded passages of useless description. I didn’t love The Way We Die Now but it’s not a bad crime novel either that has its moments and is worth checking out if you’re a fan of the genre.
The Way We Die Now is the last Hoke Moseley book because it was Charles Willeford’s last book - he died the same year it was published, 1988. It’s a shame he didn’t get around to writing this series until the last years of his life because I’d’ve loved more Hoke novels and, the way he leaves things here, there definitely was room for more. But at least he wrote four of them and, while not the best of the bunch (that would be Miami Blues, the first book), The Way We Die Now is about as good as the others, which is to say it’s ok but has its flaws.
My summary makes it seem like there’s a lot happening in this fairly slender novel but it reads surprisingly padded and slow-moving. What annoys me the most about Willeford’s writing style is the overly-descriptive nature of it. So much of the book is full of pointless descriptions of rooms, scenery, etc. that have no impact on the narrative. Like when Hoke’s in Noseworthy’s Guesthouse, we can’t just have Hoke enter a room, we’ve got to read about how that room is decorated, the material of the floor, curtains, the pattern of the wallpaper, and so on. Ugh, it’s just so boring!
There are also a lot of scenes that are similarly needless. Instead of having Hoke blend into the Immokalee community and skip to the part where he meets the crooked farmer, Tiny Bock, we have to hear about him eating lunch in a diner, then working there for a bit, then going home with some trailer trash, then spending the night in the trailer, then going to the farmer’s market, then meeting Tiny Bock. Or Hoke going to Ellita’s dying uncle’s party, or all that crap about the no smoking indoors policy at the station. Snore.
They make the story frustratingly slow but not wholly unpleasant because Willeford is a fine writer and manages to make even superfluous scenes like these not seem like a complete waste of time. He brings to life the character of the Immokalee community and the kind of lives the people live there experience. It’s just a personal preference that I wanted to see a more tightly-focused story than what was Willeford’s own brand of storytelling.
And when he gets going, it’s really good. What goes down at Bock’s farm is exciting and I particularly loved that Hoke pauses to milk a goat! It’s such a funny detail. It’s in keeping with the character and Willeford’s approach to crime fiction - in the first book, when Hoke catches up with the serial killer and you think you’re going to get a chase/gunfight, Hoke instead lets the killer escape, then goes and gets a coffee and sandwich to plan his next move. I like the unanticipated and original way Willeford handles action scenes.
The cold case doctor murder is a decent storyline but the ex-con who swore revenge on Hoke takes a really weird and not wholly convincing left turn towards the end, although I expect, had Willeford lived to write another one, that incongruity would’ve been further explored.
If you’re only after the creme de la creme of the Hoke Moseley series, just read the first novel, Miami Blues, but none of the four books are that bad, so long as you’re a patient reader who doesn’t mind reading long-winded passages of useless description. I didn’t love The Way We Die Now but it’s not a bad crime novel either that has its moments and is worth checking out if you’re a fan of the genre.
April 18, 2011
I was hoping that Charles Willeford might be my post-Parker (I mean Richard Stark's Parker novels, not either of the two mystery authors with the past name Parker, neither of whom I've ever read) author but my first experience with the "Master of Mystery" wasn't very promising.
A lot of people seem to like Willeford an awful lot, and Donald Westlake, the name who when he's feeling dark puts on the hat of Richard Stark, praises Willeford as just about a bona fide genius in the genre. This makes me think that something is wrong with my judgment of the book. I just didn't think it was very good. Maybe it was a step ahead of the regular jaded / embittered detective out slogging through his job that appears to be a staple in the crime/mystery/hard boiled genre but it is barely a step ahead, not a leap or a bound or writing in a different ball-park altogether or whatever cliche would fit here.
Why do I dislike the book?
One, he irked me early on with gratuitous parentheses. There were only maybe three or four of them but they were totally unnecessary. This is the first one that annoyed me;
Because of affirmative action, there were three Latins and two blacks ahead of him for promotion (all with much lower scores that Hoke's), but if the department ever did get around to promoting a white American to lieutenant again, Hoke would get the promotion.
A couple of sentences above this one the reader is informed that "he had passed the exam with a higher score than any other candidate in the department". Obviously then every other candidate had a lower score and the information given in the parentheses is unnecessary and, well, sort of comes across as right wing whining. But politics aside it's unnecessary. Pointless. Cut it! (So says the person who writes whole paragraphs of unnecessary garbage into parentheses, but I like to think that when I do it I'm being annoying but also interjecting in a voice that doesn't flow right with the main rambling thread I'm on, like here where it's like I'm speaking to you as an aside, or so I think of it, but really it's more likely than not just an annoying affectation I picked up years ago when I was doing my zine and I was fascinated with the manner that Reverend Nørb wrote his columns in MRR and later added to the affectation by being less than subtle in my infatuation with the writing of DFW, and end parentheses).
I could cite a few more examples but they are all about the same, usually with no embittered middle class white malice though.
Two, the structure of the novel is awkward. Sub-plots get developed that then seem to just float away. Lead up in plots take forever and are then wrapped up with a swiftness that makes all the lead-up seem like overkill. I guess I could say that this is like real-life but as I have whined about in other reviews (like in my review for this book) but writing novels or any book or actually creating anything, is about choices. Is there a reason for a subplot to be there? Is there a reason to spend thirty or forty pages (which is roughly a seventh of the book) developing something that will just disappear with no mention at some point? I didn't get the feeling that there was a reason for the subplots disappearing, it felt lazy to me, not like it was making a statement about what life is like or pointing out the absurdity of everyday life or I don't know what. I shouldn't have to try to jerry-rig a rationalization for why more than a quarter of the book is plot that is left dangling if the author is going to point some path for me to move on. I can get behind DFW leaving major plots unresolved in a novel because it feels intentional, here it feels like the author had an idea he thought he'd run with and then forgot about it and didn't want to do a hatchet job on his novel and be left with something barely the length of a Harlequin Romance.
On a similar point, there feels like an awful lot of filer in the book. Most of the filer comes in way too much detail about food. It's not important to know every detail of a meal, is there a reason the reader should care that he took one helping of a certain food and one of his daughters also did but the other one didn't? There is way too much space in this short novel given to meals.
Three, too many plot points make no sense / the main character is an asshole. I don't need to like a main character in a book, but I don't like being presented with a total asshole but feel like I'm supposed to get behind him and think of him as one of the good guys. Hoke comes across as a close minded jerk most of the time, but then at other times lip service is paid to him as being a different type of person than the one that is presented.
Similarly, there was a scene where Hoke finds out that his daughters and friend are missing and he is a little disturbed by the news and vows in the morning to do some investigating but before he goes to bed that night he leaves his scuffed up shoes in front of his his youngest daughter's room so she can shine them for him if she happens to come home during the night. Dad of the year material! As I said I don't care if the characters in a book are assholes or psychopaths or whatever they turn out to be but don't present an asshole as a good guy, a regular guy who we can all get behind, which is what Hoke is feeling that Willeford gives to the character. I felt like I was supposed to feel sympathy for the plight of this Average Joe White Middle Class guy but in most everything he said and did he was just a close minded, complacent, vaguely racist, arrogant fuck who felt the whole world was against him when in reality he has little going on in his life that makes him any kind of victim. I would have liked to seen a few Mexican's, three or four Haitians, and his Jewish neighbor take turns beating the shit out of him with some brass knuckles and telling him now you're a victim you, stupid lazy fuck.
Nothing I've mentioned above was by itself enough to sink a book for me, but it was all these little pet peeves of mine that made me feel very ehhh about the whole thing. I went in wanting to like it but instead of finding some kind of hard-boiled diamond I felt like I was reading a sloppy kind of pointless novel with some good moments of development that never paid off. Originally I rated this three stars, but I felt like there was something wrong with me for not liking the novel after some thought though I still think that I might just be missing something here but my overall enjoyment was on the negative side for this one.
A lot of people seem to like Willeford an awful lot, and Donald Westlake, the name who when he's feeling dark puts on the hat of Richard Stark, praises Willeford as just about a bona fide genius in the genre. This makes me think that something is wrong with my judgment of the book. I just didn't think it was very good. Maybe it was a step ahead of the regular jaded / embittered detective out slogging through his job that appears to be a staple in the crime/mystery/hard boiled genre but it is barely a step ahead, not a leap or a bound or writing in a different ball-park altogether or whatever cliche would fit here.
Why do I dislike the book?
One, he irked me early on with gratuitous parentheses. There were only maybe three or four of them but they were totally unnecessary. This is the first one that annoyed me;
Because of affirmative action, there were three Latins and two blacks ahead of him for promotion (all with much lower scores that Hoke's), but if the department ever did get around to promoting a white American to lieutenant again, Hoke would get the promotion.
A couple of sentences above this one the reader is informed that "he had passed the exam with a higher score than any other candidate in the department". Obviously then every other candidate had a lower score and the information given in the parentheses is unnecessary and, well, sort of comes across as right wing whining. But politics aside it's unnecessary. Pointless. Cut it! (So says the person who writes whole paragraphs of unnecessary garbage into parentheses, but I like to think that when I do it I'm being annoying but also interjecting in a voice that doesn't flow right with the main rambling thread I'm on, like here where it's like I'm speaking to you as an aside, or so I think of it, but really it's more likely than not just an annoying affectation I picked up years ago when I was doing my zine and I was fascinated with the manner that Reverend Nørb wrote his columns in MRR and later added to the affectation by being less than subtle in my infatuation with the writing of DFW, and end parentheses).
I could cite a few more examples but they are all about the same, usually with no embittered middle class white malice though.
Two, the structure of the novel is awkward. Sub-plots get developed that then seem to just float away. Lead up in plots take forever and are then wrapped up with a swiftness that makes all the lead-up seem like overkill. I guess I could say that this is like real-life but as I have whined about in other reviews (like in my review for this book) but writing novels or any book or actually creating anything, is about choices. Is there a reason for a subplot to be there? Is there a reason to spend thirty or forty pages (which is roughly a seventh of the book) developing something that will just disappear with no mention at some point? I didn't get the feeling that there was a reason for the subplots disappearing, it felt lazy to me, not like it was making a statement about what life is like or pointing out the absurdity of everyday life or I don't know what. I shouldn't have to try to jerry-rig a rationalization for why more than a quarter of the book is plot that is left dangling if the author is going to point some path for me to move on. I can get behind DFW leaving major plots unresolved in a novel because it feels intentional, here it feels like the author had an idea he thought he'd run with and then forgot about it and didn't want to do a hatchet job on his novel and be left with something barely the length of a Harlequin Romance.
On a similar point, there feels like an awful lot of filer in the book. Most of the filer comes in way too much detail about food. It's not important to know every detail of a meal, is there a reason the reader should care that he took one helping of a certain food and one of his daughters also did but the other one didn't? There is way too much space in this short novel given to meals.
Three, too many plot points make no sense / the main character is an asshole. I don't need to like a main character in a book, but I don't like being presented with a total asshole but feel like I'm supposed to get behind him and think of him as one of the good guys. Hoke comes across as a close minded jerk most of the time, but then at other times lip service is paid to him as being a different type of person than the one that is presented.
Similarly, there was a scene where Hoke finds out that his daughters and friend are missing and he is a little disturbed by the news and vows in the morning to do some investigating but before he goes to bed that night he leaves his scuffed up shoes in front of his his youngest daughter's room so she can shine them for him if she happens to come home during the night. Dad of the year material! As I said I don't care if the characters in a book are assholes or psychopaths or whatever they turn out to be but don't present an asshole as a good guy, a regular guy who we can all get behind, which is what Hoke is feeling that Willeford gives to the character. I felt like I was supposed to feel sympathy for the plight of this Average Joe White Middle Class guy but in most everything he said and did he was just a close minded, complacent, vaguely racist, arrogant fuck who felt the whole world was against him when in reality he has little going on in his life that makes him any kind of victim. I would have liked to seen a few Mexican's, three or four Haitians, and his Jewish neighbor take turns beating the shit out of him with some brass knuckles and telling him now you're a victim you, stupid lazy fuck.
Nothing I've mentioned above was by itself enough to sink a book for me, but it was all these little pet peeves of mine that made me feel very ehhh about the whole thing. I went in wanting to like it but instead of finding some kind of hard-boiled diamond I felt like I was reading a sloppy kind of pointless novel with some good moments of development that never paid off. Originally I rated this three stars, but I felt like there was something wrong with me for not liking the novel after some thought though I still think that I might just be missing something here but my overall enjoyment was on the negative side for this one.
January 26, 2021
The fourth and last book in the Hoke Moseley series, published in 1988; soon after the book was published (see title) Willeford died! Jinx much?! At any rate, it felt like when I read it as if he were not quite done with the series, as some things seemed set up for the future (i.e., what about Ellita, for those who have read it?). This is not my favorite of the four books, maybe third, 3.5, Sideswipe being the best imho. While all four are different, they all feature this sad-sack non-pc schleppy and average cop; we get to know a lot about his family life, his essentially non-parenting two daughters, his living (non-romantically) with his partner Ellita and her baby. There's lots about food, drinking Old Style, his weight struggles, his financial struggles. A regular guy, not admirable, sometimes not admirable.
When I read these books I wondered sometimes how much Willeford was like Hoke; okay, I'm prejudiced: I looked at his photograph and tried to deduce relationships between the author and his main character. Deep, right? I bet early on in my reading that Willeford was mildly racist and sexist, , based in part on the photograph (don't jump on me here, I'm confessing my shallowness)! But then I read a bot about the author and found he studied art in school, and after I finished this book, I read The Brunt Orange Heresy, finding a very different main character and much darker story. I learned his early stories like The Pick-Up were dark pulpy violent books, not at all like the more popular, lighter Hoke stories for which he became famous later in his life (the series became his best source of income in his life). The (I'll say mildly) racist/sexist Hoke I think, like most male characters in Willeford, were mainly being satirized by the former WWII vet author.
In this one Hoke solves some crimes, one of them with surprising violence. Sideswipe was mostly a comedy, and so I expected he had found his way to what he wanted to do with the tales there, and the so the set-up not surprisingly involves Hoke going undercover without his false teeth, a fun/silly detail, but no, Willeford pulls the rug out from under us, things turn uncharacteristically bloody, and so I am curious what might have happened as things in the Hoke series might have turned darker, in keeping with some of his early pulp novels. But the series is worthwhile, for sure, for mystery buffs.
When I read these books I wondered sometimes how much Willeford was like Hoke; okay, I'm prejudiced: I looked at his photograph and tried to deduce relationships between the author and his main character. Deep, right? I bet early on in my reading that Willeford was mildly racist and sexist, , based in part on the photograph (don't jump on me here, I'm confessing my shallowness)! But then I read a bot about the author and found he studied art in school, and after I finished this book, I read The Brunt Orange Heresy, finding a very different main character and much darker story. I learned his early stories like The Pick-Up were dark pulpy violent books, not at all like the more popular, lighter Hoke stories for which he became famous later in his life (the series became his best source of income in his life). The (I'll say mildly) racist/sexist Hoke I think, like most male characters in Willeford, were mainly being satirized by the former WWII vet author.
In this one Hoke solves some crimes, one of them with surprising violence. Sideswipe was mostly a comedy, and so I expected he had found his way to what he wanted to do with the tales there, and the so the set-up not surprisingly involves Hoke going undercover without his false teeth, a fun/silly detail, but no, Willeford pulls the rug out from under us, things turn uncharacteristically bloody, and so I am curious what might have happened as things in the Hoke series might have turned darker, in keeping with some of his early pulp novels. But the series is worthwhile, for sure, for mystery buffs.
November 22, 2010
Great title---one of the best interextual noir spins on another title ever, in fact. Every time I think of Trollope (or John W. Aldridge, who copped THE WAY WE LIVE NOW from Trol), I think of Willeford, in the same way I can't think of "Stairway to Heaven" without conjuring the B-H Sufers' "Hairway to Steven." The novel itself is deceptively ramshackle. Subplots come and go, conflicts taper off, the prologue featuring the dastardly villain seems to have no relevance ... until, anyway, the hero is sent off on a secret undercover mission that involves a toothless henchman prodding what DeLillo would call his underworld. (No, the bad guys aren't TSA agents). The threat of homosexual rape that flushes through the bowels of noir gets a little tedious, but Willeford belonged to another generation in which that fear somehow clinched their masculinity precisely at the moment that they clenched. If the book seems a stroll rather than a beat-down, the knock-out uppercut comes in the final line, impeccably uttered by one of the hero's own daughters, which somehow manages to sum up every Hemingway-derived code hero ever created in a way that seems obvious and yet affecting. And what she says isn't "I love you, Daddypaddles."
September 28, 2014
It's a crying shame that Charles Willeford went and died just as this series of Hoke Moseley novels was getting going. The Way We Die Now is the fourth and final chapter in Moseley's life on the Miami Police force in the 80s, and as usual you're treated to some fine existential musings, some witty commentary on the changing face of America and Moseley solving crimes in a largely straight forward manner.
The book opens with a chapter describing two men killing animals and people, setting the scene for an anticipated investigation you might expect, only Willeford ignores it for the next hundred pages whilst you get reacquainted with his protagonist and get caught up wondering about his new ineffectual partner in homicide, his former partner now retired to be a single mother, positive discrimination within the police force, the influx of Pakistani immigrants to Hoke's neighbourhood and the underhanded manner in which the WASPs try to keep them out, how his two teenaged daughters cope with only Hoke as parent/role model and on and on until when the two killers finally reappear you've completely forgotten that you're reading a crime novel. It's really something and a very special entry in to the ranks of highly lauded crime novels.
There's some unexpected and very matter of fact violence popping up in this one, the behaviour of Hoke causing the reader to completely reassess their opinion of him as an intelligent happy go lucky kind of guy with a strong line on doing what's right, to something a little darker perhaps. Oh, how I would have loved to have seen how Willeford developed that further.
The book opens with a chapter describing two men killing animals and people, setting the scene for an anticipated investigation you might expect, only Willeford ignores it for the next hundred pages whilst you get reacquainted with his protagonist and get caught up wondering about his new ineffectual partner in homicide, his former partner now retired to be a single mother, positive discrimination within the police force, the influx of Pakistani immigrants to Hoke's neighbourhood and the underhanded manner in which the WASPs try to keep them out, how his two teenaged daughters cope with only Hoke as parent/role model and on and on until when the two killers finally reappear you've completely forgotten that you're reading a crime novel. It's really something and a very special entry in to the ranks of highly lauded crime novels.
There's some unexpected and very matter of fact violence popping up in this one, the behaviour of Hoke causing the reader to completely reassess their opinion of him as an intelligent happy go lucky kind of guy with a strong line on doing what's right, to something a little darker perhaps. Oh, how I would have loved to have seen how Willeford developed that further.
June 17, 2021
"Miami isn't Cuba. We can do what we please here."
- Charles Willeford, The Way We Die Now
The final installment of Willeford's Hoke Moseley mysteries, and probably my favorite. It has all the middle-class Miami challenges: immigrants, a partner and daughters who seem way less plussed by the murderer Hoke put away 10-years-ago than he does, a dumb partner, an ambitious boss, office politics, etc. Hoke is asked to go undercover, his roommate and daughters disappear, his boss even has a surprise for him. Hoke is sore, bruised, and often near broke, but like a mutt -- there is something that draws people to him. I love how Donald Westlake described Hoke:
"Hoke is a good cop, or at least he tries to be a good cop, but in his Miami, one good cop is about as useful as one good paper towl in a hurricane. Hoke is constantly bested by people that are tougher and meaner than he is, he's constantly lied to and betrayed, he's constantly faced with the futility of what he's doing, and yet he keeps moving doggedly forward..."
Also, there is one revenge scene in this book that reminded my why Quentin Tarantino loved Willeford stuff so much. It is brutal and satisfying and cleansing in a way that American crime fiction sometimes achieves. It is both gratuitous and chaotically naturalistic.
- Charles Willeford, The Way We Die Now
The final installment of Willeford's Hoke Moseley mysteries, and probably my favorite. It has all the middle-class Miami challenges: immigrants, a partner and daughters who seem way less plussed by the murderer Hoke put away 10-years-ago than he does, a dumb partner, an ambitious boss, office politics, etc. Hoke is asked to go undercover, his roommate and daughters disappear, his boss even has a surprise for him. Hoke is sore, bruised, and often near broke, but like a mutt -- there is something that draws people to him. I love how Donald Westlake described Hoke:
"Hoke is a good cop, or at least he tries to be a good cop, but in his Miami, one good cop is about as useful as one good paper towl in a hurricane. Hoke is constantly bested by people that are tougher and meaner than he is, he's constantly lied to and betrayed, he's constantly faced with the futility of what he's doing, and yet he keeps moving doggedly forward..."
Also, there is one revenge scene in this book that reminded my why Quentin Tarantino loved Willeford stuff so much. It is brutal and satisfying and cleansing in a way that American crime fiction sometimes achieves. It is both gratuitous and chaotically naturalistic.
April 18, 2024
Published in 1988, The Way We Die Now is the fourth entry in Willeford’s quirky police detective series, set in Miami in the 1980’s with a irascible frustrated 42-year-old premature-balding Hoke Moseley trying to get by in a society that seems to have left old dinosaurs like him behind. The primary action in this one is an undercover operation off the books where Hoke goes out to the farmlands and seeks employment as a down-and-out foreman who is so down he is willing to accept employment from anyone, even a guy who is suspected of burying migrant farmworkers in the Florida swamps. His task is to nose around the farm and see what he can turn up in the way of evidence. He regrets the assignment as he soon as he takes it because he has no gun, no badge, no money, nothing to rely on. Little does he know how bad it could get and how quickly and how much a fiasco he has to walk away from him, surviving with his life but not being able to tell anyone what really happened or his role in it.
The second sub-plot is when a parolee who Hoke thought was put away for life takes a plea deal when his murder charge is reversed on appeal and decides to rent the house directly across the street from where Hoke is living with his teenage daughters. This makes him nervous as one can quite imagine and then you get the odd scene where Ellita invites the parolee to dinner at the house and Hoke sits across the table from him glaring. Shades of Hoke lunching with Junior in Miami Blues comes to mind. And, this gets even odder as Ellita decides to go out and date the parolee.
This is a solidly-written, compelling crime story told in Willeford’s offbeat, quirky manner. Willeford passed away the same year (1988) this was published so it became the final book in the Hoke Moseley saga. It is not clear if that was what Willeford planned.
The second sub-plot is when a parolee who Hoke thought was put away for life takes a plea deal when his murder charge is reversed on appeal and decides to rent the house directly across the street from where Hoke is living with his teenage daughters. This makes him nervous as one can quite imagine and then you get the odd scene where Ellita invites the parolee to dinner at the house and Hoke sits across the table from him glaring. Shades of Hoke lunching with Junior in Miami Blues comes to mind. And, this gets even odder as Ellita decides to go out and date the parolee.
This is a solidly-written, compelling crime story told in Willeford’s offbeat, quirky manner. Willeford passed away the same year (1988) this was published so it became the final book in the Hoke Moseley saga. It is not clear if that was what Willeford planned.
June 2, 2023
RTC.
March 4, 2020
This fourth and final Hoke Moseley story is a heck of a lot more gritty and violent than the first, Miami Blues. There are several, unrelated story lines, each suspenseful, potentially volatile, and well developed. In typical fashion, the even keeled anti-hero detective barely manages to navigate some very dicey situations, coming out quite a bit worse for the wear. In fact, he goes through most of the story missing his dentures. The story ends with a twist, a surprise for Hoke that would seemingly be welcome, but is viewed with apprehension as someone who really does not like change. It's a shame there aren't more books in the series.
May 15, 2023
05/2016
I thought this book was better than its three predecessors. It gives me a warm feeling, knowing that Willeford brought this series to a satisfying conclusion before he died. The Immokalee section was terrific, though also awfully violent.
I thought this book was better than its three predecessors. It gives me a warm feeling, knowing that Willeford brought this series to a satisfying conclusion before he died. The Immokalee section was terrific, though also awfully violent.
February 27, 2013
Writers and readers are always bitching about the size of our to-be-read (TBR) piles.
I’m not sure if it’s related to the fact that there’s more books available, if they’re easier to access electronically or via on-line bookstores like Booktopia, or whether social media means we just need something to talk about, to look busy, so hell, why not talk about how we’ve just added another book to our TBR list.
Whatever, the upshot is it’s rare for many of us, well, for me anyway, to find ourselves in a situation where we don’t actually have anything on hand to read and we need to find something quickly. A situation that necessitates departing from our planned reading list and taking a chance on whatever book we can find.
This happened to me last week.
I was in Queensland’s Surfers Paradise for several days on personal business. I’d finished the book I was reading, Dennis Lehane’s excellent Live By Night, a lot quicker than I thought I would. I didn’t have my Kindle or any other reading material with me and there was nothing in the house I was staying in.
So I had to go out and find a book. Quickly.
Now Surfers is not exactly book lover’s paradise but it does have one or two okay second hand bookshops. In one of those I found a copy of Charles’ Willeford’s The Way We Die Now.
I love Willeford and I’ve read all the Hoke Moseley detective novels. So in that respect, I wasn’t stepping too far out of my comfort zone. But it’s been a long time since I’ve read them and I’d forgotten just how good they are.
Moseley is working cold cases for the Miami police when his commander gives him a special assignment, go to the south of Florida and find out who is murdering migrant Hispanic farm workers.
He’s living with his two daughters from his previous marriage and Ellita, his former Cuban female partner on the police force and her young baby. Moseley’s got to juggle cold case leads, with his special assignment and bringing up his two daughters. To top it off, a man he convicted for murder has got out of jail and moved in across the street from his house.
Willeford handling of all of this is masterful. He moves seamlessly between down and dirty action and Moseley’s ruminations on the changing nature of Miami. His writing has a classic fifties pulp feel fused with an off beat hard boiled style.
Moseley is a terrific character, a shabby, cheap skate, misanthropic, old school, right wing cop working in the increasingly multi-ethnic city of Miami in the eighties. He’s the perfect anecdote to so many of the politically correct police appearing in crime fiction these days. Indeed, after reading The Way We Die Now, I think the Moseley books should be used in writing courses on the subject of how not to do a boring police procedural.
On top of all this, it felt fitting reading the book in Surfers Paradise. The city took off in the late seventies as a prime destination for beach tourism and was modelled on aspects of Florida. Every second hotel and motel still seems to feature the words ‘tropic’, ‘villa’ ‘palms’ or ‘casa’ in its title.
New Hope For the Dead was the fourth Moseley book. Willeford died the same year it was published, 1988. A great pity because, if this book was anything to go by, Willeford had plans for Moseley and the series felt like it had a lot more gas left in the tank.
As a result of reading this, I’m going to be dusting off and re-reading my other Willeford books. I’ve also been inspired to find a good bio of the writer. Any suggestions would be very welcome.
And I’m going to be ignoring my TBR pile much more often.
I’m not sure if it’s related to the fact that there’s more books available, if they’re easier to access electronically or via on-line bookstores like Booktopia, or whether social media means we just need something to talk about, to look busy, so hell, why not talk about how we’ve just added another book to our TBR list.
Whatever, the upshot is it’s rare for many of us, well, for me anyway, to find ourselves in a situation where we don’t actually have anything on hand to read and we need to find something quickly. A situation that necessitates departing from our planned reading list and taking a chance on whatever book we can find.
This happened to me last week.
I was in Queensland’s Surfers Paradise for several days on personal business. I’d finished the book I was reading, Dennis Lehane’s excellent Live By Night, a lot quicker than I thought I would. I didn’t have my Kindle or any other reading material with me and there was nothing in the house I was staying in.
So I had to go out and find a book. Quickly.
Now Surfers is not exactly book lover’s paradise but it does have one or two okay second hand bookshops. In one of those I found a copy of Charles’ Willeford’s The Way We Die Now.
I love Willeford and I’ve read all the Hoke Moseley detective novels. So in that respect, I wasn’t stepping too far out of my comfort zone. But it’s been a long time since I’ve read them and I’d forgotten just how good they are.
Moseley is working cold cases for the Miami police when his commander gives him a special assignment, go to the south of Florida and find out who is murdering migrant Hispanic farm workers.
He’s living with his two daughters from his previous marriage and Ellita, his former Cuban female partner on the police force and her young baby. Moseley’s got to juggle cold case leads, with his special assignment and bringing up his two daughters. To top it off, a man he convicted for murder has got out of jail and moved in across the street from his house.
Willeford handling of all of this is masterful. He moves seamlessly between down and dirty action and Moseley’s ruminations on the changing nature of Miami. His writing has a classic fifties pulp feel fused with an off beat hard boiled style.
Moseley is a terrific character, a shabby, cheap skate, misanthropic, old school, right wing cop working in the increasingly multi-ethnic city of Miami in the eighties. He’s the perfect anecdote to so many of the politically correct police appearing in crime fiction these days. Indeed, after reading The Way We Die Now, I think the Moseley books should be used in writing courses on the subject of how not to do a boring police procedural.
On top of all this, it felt fitting reading the book in Surfers Paradise. The city took off in the late seventies as a prime destination for beach tourism and was modelled on aspects of Florida. Every second hotel and motel still seems to feature the words ‘tropic’, ‘villa’ ‘palms’ or ‘casa’ in its title.
New Hope For the Dead was the fourth Moseley book. Willeford died the same year it was published, 1988. A great pity because, if this book was anything to go by, Willeford had plans for Moseley and the series felt like it had a lot more gas left in the tank.
As a result of reading this, I’m going to be dusting off and re-reading my other Willeford books. I’ve also been inspired to find a good bio of the writer. Any suggestions would be very welcome.
And I’m going to be ignoring my TBR pile much more often.
December 22, 2014
Wow. I have a new definition of "tragedy," now: The fact that Charles Willeford died just as this book was published in 1988, so he was never able to pen another one/
Willeford, whom some credit with being the father of the modern Florida crime novel, led a wild life. He won a Purple Heart as a tank commander at the Battle of the Bulge, served in the military off and on for 20 years, studied art, taught creative writing, reviewed mysteries for the Miami Herald, and at various times worked as a flea-circus barker, a professional boxer, and an actor. He also wrote a series of bleak novels that included "Pick-Up" in 1955 and "Cockfighter" in 1962.
And then, in 1984, his first book about a detective sergeant named Hoke Mosely was published, and things would never be quite the same. Mosely is a wonderful character -- a grizzled veteran of the Miami-Dade homicide squad prone to wearing leisure suits, making comments about every minority group imaginable and looking for angles to exploit to avoid paying any money for anything.
Mosely is nothing if not practical -- to a fault. When his wife leaves him for a multimillionaire baseball player and dumps his two teenage daughters on him, he figures if he gives them a place to live and food to eat, he's done with his obligations. He spends little time giving them any sort of direction or instruction.
The first book, "Miami Blues," was almost an anti-detective story, and so were the subsequent sequels, "New Hope for the Dead" and "Sideswipe." In fact, in "Sideswipe," Hoke is almost an incidental character until the very end, where he helps save his Cuban-American partner, Elita, although she's wounded.
Hoke solves his cases through hunches and sometimes just luck. Not everybody liked this approach. At one point, Willeford opened his mail to find a copy of "Sideswipe" with five bullet holes in it, accompanied by an anonymous note saying the reader had been robbed.
"A case could be made that Willeford isn`t a crime novelist at all, but rather an exceptionally gifted author who happens to write about life`s marginal characters," Chauncey Mabe wrote in the Sun-Sentinel in 1988.
Yet the books were so popular that for "The Way We Die Now," Willeford -- constantly plagued by hard luck when it came to publishers -- managed to get a $225,000 advance.
It was worth every penny. In this book, Hoke actually manages to solve several murders, and works a bizarre undercover assignment that requires him to ditch his false teeth, badge and gun and pretend to be a farmworker in Immokalee. As always. Willeford's writing is vivid, his dialogue realistic and his sense of humor dark and twisted. His plotting is the real gift here, with a reader never knowing exactly which way the story is going to go next. There's a violent occurrence about halfway through that is just stunning. It proves just how practical -- and completely amoral -- Hoke can be when he's backed up against a wall.
The ending, though, takes everything into a new direction -- Hoke's career and his living situation both, and left me wishing Hoke could have had more adventures, and maybe an opportunity to talk to Elita at least one more time.
For more on Charles Willeford, here's a nicely done bio by someone who knew him: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/a...
...and here's the Chauncey Mabe interview with Willeford:
http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1988...
Willeford, whom some credit with being the father of the modern Florida crime novel, led a wild life. He won a Purple Heart as a tank commander at the Battle of the Bulge, served in the military off and on for 20 years, studied art, taught creative writing, reviewed mysteries for the Miami Herald, and at various times worked as a flea-circus barker, a professional boxer, and an actor. He also wrote a series of bleak novels that included "Pick-Up" in 1955 and "Cockfighter" in 1962.
And then, in 1984, his first book about a detective sergeant named Hoke Mosely was published, and things would never be quite the same. Mosely is a wonderful character -- a grizzled veteran of the Miami-Dade homicide squad prone to wearing leisure suits, making comments about every minority group imaginable and looking for angles to exploit to avoid paying any money for anything.
Mosely is nothing if not practical -- to a fault. When his wife leaves him for a multimillionaire baseball player and dumps his two teenage daughters on him, he figures if he gives them a place to live and food to eat, he's done with his obligations. He spends little time giving them any sort of direction or instruction.
The first book, "Miami Blues," was almost an anti-detective story, and so were the subsequent sequels, "New Hope for the Dead" and "Sideswipe." In fact, in "Sideswipe," Hoke is almost an incidental character until the very end, where he helps save his Cuban-American partner, Elita, although she's wounded.
Hoke solves his cases through hunches and sometimes just luck. Not everybody liked this approach. At one point, Willeford opened his mail to find a copy of "Sideswipe" with five bullet holes in it, accompanied by an anonymous note saying the reader had been robbed.
"A case could be made that Willeford isn`t a crime novelist at all, but rather an exceptionally gifted author who happens to write about life`s marginal characters," Chauncey Mabe wrote in the Sun-Sentinel in 1988.
Yet the books were so popular that for "The Way We Die Now," Willeford -- constantly plagued by hard luck when it came to publishers -- managed to get a $225,000 advance.
It was worth every penny. In this book, Hoke actually manages to solve several murders, and works a bizarre undercover assignment that requires him to ditch his false teeth, badge and gun and pretend to be a farmworker in Immokalee. As always. Willeford's writing is vivid, his dialogue realistic and his sense of humor dark and twisted. His plotting is the real gift here, with a reader never knowing exactly which way the story is going to go next. There's a violent occurrence about halfway through that is just stunning. It proves just how practical -- and completely amoral -- Hoke can be when he's backed up against a wall.
The ending, though, takes everything into a new direction -- Hoke's career and his living situation both, and left me wishing Hoke could have had more adventures, and maybe an opportunity to talk to Elita at least one more time.
For more on Charles Willeford, here's a nicely done bio by someone who knew him: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/a...
...and here's the Chauncey Mabe interview with Willeford:
http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1988...
May 20, 2018
Love these meandering crime/domestic novels, very bummed that there aren't any more.
Here's my problem, unrelated to the actual book, maybe someone else can help me: I have the Vintage/Black Lizard edition. The final chapter is two pages long and the text runs all the way to the bottom of the second page, bam - end of book. The last sentence is complete, and I can see how it works fine as the end of the book, but it also feels like something's missing (I know, a fifth book). The last sentence ends "... because you can't!" Is there more to it and I'm missing some pages, or is that it? Goodreads says this edition is 256 pages, what I have is 245. I've seen incorrect page counts in Goodreads, so this may mean nothing (some Goodreads page counts seem to add the unnumbered pages at the beginning to the total count which, as someone who catalogues library books for a living, makes me insane).
Here's my problem, unrelated to the actual book, maybe someone else can help me: I have the Vintage/Black Lizard edition. The final chapter is two pages long and the text runs all the way to the bottom of the second page, bam - end of book. The last sentence is complete, and I can see how it works fine as the end of the book, but it also feels like something's missing (I know, a fifth book). The last sentence ends "... because you can't!" Is there more to it and I'm missing some pages, or is that it? Goodreads says this edition is 256 pages, what I have is 245. I've seen incorrect page counts in Goodreads, so this may mean nothing (some Goodreads page counts seem to add the unnumbered pages at the beginning to the total count which, as someone who catalogues library books for a living, makes me insane).
September 16, 2020
Unica Fine
Titolo profetico, questo dell'autore, che morirà subito dopo la pubblicazione.
Se solo ha vissuto metà delle situazioni del suo sergente Moseley - stando alla sua biografia, direi di sì -, allora è morto senza rimpianti e col sorriso a fior di labbra.
Un aspetto onesto e scanzonato delle sue storie è il modo in cui la quotidianità del protagonista convive con il giallo e il nero che spesso si trova a dover affrontare, senza per questo dover rispecchiare l'eroe senza macchia che molti sognano: come potrebbe esserlo, uno che
"Senza denti e con la barba grigia non rasata sul volto allungato, Hoke sembrava un barbone inselvatichito. Il sole gli strinava la schiena attraverso la camicia lisa, e in quel momento si sentiva assai riconoscente per il cappello di paglia da contadino con la visiera di plastica verde che gli proteggeva la pelata dai raggi diretti. Il sudore gli grondava lungo i fianchi, la camicia era madida e dentro i boxer si sentiva le palle fradice.".
Un'altra particolarità dell'autore è quella di saper creare sempre personaggi secondari caricaturali ma non improbabili, "attori" caratteristi a tutti gli effetti. Grazie ai loro piccoli interventi si resta sempre catturati dagli avvenimenti, anche quando manca l'azione a più riprese.
Inoltre Willeford, avendo imparato dalla realtà della vita, non chiude le sue storie. O meglio, le chiude, ma è solo una situazione che sta in coda alle altre, risparmia il lieto (o meno) fine a effetto, la quadratura del cerchio cara a tanti venditori di bestseller.
Come la Morte che l'ha portato via, però questa volta ci ha pensato lei a mettere la parola fine.
Se amate il genere e vi capita, leggete Willeford, qualcosa infilerà nelle vostre scarpe, anche solo per darvi fastidio.
Titolo profetico, questo dell'autore, che morirà subito dopo la pubblicazione.
Se solo ha vissuto metà delle situazioni del suo sergente Moseley - stando alla sua biografia, direi di sì -, allora è morto senza rimpianti e col sorriso a fior di labbra.
Un aspetto onesto e scanzonato delle sue storie è il modo in cui la quotidianità del protagonista convive con il giallo e il nero che spesso si trova a dover affrontare, senza per questo dover rispecchiare l'eroe senza macchia che molti sognano: come potrebbe esserlo, uno che
"Senza denti e con la barba grigia non rasata sul volto allungato, Hoke sembrava un barbone inselvatichito. Il sole gli strinava la schiena attraverso la camicia lisa, e in quel momento si sentiva assai riconoscente per il cappello di paglia da contadino con la visiera di plastica verde che gli proteggeva la pelata dai raggi diretti. Il sudore gli grondava lungo i fianchi, la camicia era madida e dentro i boxer si sentiva le palle fradice.".
Un'altra particolarità dell'autore è quella di saper creare sempre personaggi secondari caricaturali ma non improbabili, "attori" caratteristi a tutti gli effetti. Grazie ai loro piccoli interventi si resta sempre catturati dagli avvenimenti, anche quando manca l'azione a più riprese.
Inoltre Willeford, avendo imparato dalla realtà della vita, non chiude le sue storie. O meglio, le chiude, ma è solo una situazione che sta in coda alle altre, risparmia il lieto (o meno) fine a effetto, la quadratura del cerchio cara a tanti venditori di bestseller.
Come la Morte che l'ha portato via, però questa volta ci ha pensato lei a mettere la parola fine.
Se amate il genere e vi capita, leggete Willeford, qualcosa infilerà nelle vostre scarpe, anche solo per darvi fastidio.
December 1, 2011
I really, really tried to make this book last since it's the last of the Hoke Moseley books and as you know from my previous reviews, I've developed a little crush thing on the guy, but I couldn't put it down. I'm so sad to be done with it. Feels a little weird writing this review so soon. Body's still warm, etc.
By this, the 4th book, I was starting to notice a pattern. And I don't mean that in a bad way. It was a pattern I liked: the first chapter obscurely references what will be the main crime of the book, then we get a bunch of Hoke being Hoke (making sandwiches, drinking Old Styles, being the best/worst dad ever), a side case for him to solve, a crazy awesome disgusting blood bath as the main crime plays out, and then a satisfying denouement, where Hoke is seemingly put out at first, but in the end things actually end up working out okay for him. But--slight spoilers--this was the first time that I actually sort of felt sad for Hoke at the end of the book. I might be projecting the sadness I feel about finishing the series, but I dunno, this one ended on a down note.
Other notes: Hoke pees his pants again! See! I have to love this guy. Here is a list of words/names that appear in this book: cornhole, Vinnie Testeverde. Hoke milks a goat. Out of the four, Sideswipe might be my favorite.
Oh, so there's also a 5th unpublished Hoke Moseley manuscript floating around called Grimhaven. But it's not actually a 5th book in the series. It's actually the second Hoke Moseley book. Willeford was told by his agent to turn his success off Miami Blues into a series, and Willeford wanted nothing of it so he wrote a big fuck-you sequel wherein Hoke does some horrendous, horrendous things. But his published wisely passed on it. Then I guess Willeford played ball and cannibalized the good parts of Grimhaven to create New Hope for the Dead, Sideswipe, and The Way We Die Now. Anyway, apparently you can read the manuscript in some library in Florida, or it's fairly easy to find a PDF of it online. I might do it.
By this, the 4th book, I was starting to notice a pattern. And I don't mean that in a bad way. It was a pattern I liked: the first chapter obscurely references what will be the main crime of the book, then we get a bunch of Hoke being Hoke (making sandwiches, drinking Old Styles, being the best/worst dad ever), a side case for him to solve, a crazy awesome disgusting blood bath as the main crime plays out, and then a satisfying denouement, where Hoke is seemingly put out at first, but in the end things actually end up working out okay for him. But--slight spoilers--this was the first time that I actually sort of felt sad for Hoke at the end of the book. I might be projecting the sadness I feel about finishing the series, but I dunno, this one ended on a down note.
Other notes: Hoke pees his pants again! See! I have to love this guy. Here is a list of words/names that appear in this book: cornhole, Vinnie Testeverde. Hoke milks a goat. Out of the four, Sideswipe might be my favorite.
Oh, so there's also a 5th unpublished Hoke Moseley manuscript floating around called Grimhaven. But it's not actually a 5th book in the series. It's actually the second Hoke Moseley book. Willeford was told by his agent to turn his success off Miami Blues into a series, and Willeford wanted nothing of it so he wrote a big fuck-you sequel wherein Hoke does some horrendous, horrendous things. But his published wisely passed on it. Then I guess Willeford played ball and cannibalized the good parts of Grimhaven to create New Hope for the Dead, Sideswipe, and The Way We Die Now. Anyway, apparently you can read the manuscript in some library in Florida, or it's fairly easy to find a PDF of it online. I might do it.
Read
November 14, 2020comes close to rivaling the 1st book of the hokiad... really seems to raise the stakes somehow when he's forced to operate w/o his dentures, don't you think? there's an interesting ambiguity at the core of this one: more than ever you see the kinda viewpoints that remind you this char is a white cop in florida in the 1980s, & yet at a pivotal moment he basically does a mini harper's ferry on a guy who's keeping haitian laborers enslaved in the everglades. (was it in the name of justice, or was he just pissed about getting whaled on by the one-eyed guy? hoke's interiority is limited such that you could argue for either.) ending isn't what i'd call a cliffhanger per se but it seems clear this wasn't intended to be the end of the series. someone w/ a better command of florida geography than me better take a stab at #5 one of these days
September 5, 2011
I'm giving this 4 stars because I liked it more and more as I got into it. It takes a while to adjust to this particular brand of noir...but you do get hooked on Hoke.
I never met Charlie Willeford but I knew his third wife when I lived in Miami and she was a very spicy person with a quick wit. I wasn't even meaning to read a Miami book right now but in a Library of America omnibus of crime stories I read one of Willeford's first, and it was so unusual and haunting that I went looking for more. Miami books always make me glad I moved away from Miami but they exert a certain slimy allure...
The style is deadpan and precise..."Hoke finished his beer. He looked around but couldn't see a place to put down the stein without leaving a ring on the polished tables." This can be irritating but after a while you realize that you are seeing a very precise picture...which can turn from commonplace to extremely unpleasant in the blink of an eye, kind of like Miami itself.
Over-the-top bad guys are abundant (I think Carl Hiassen must've been inspired by Charlie) and you rejoice that Hoke, a normal sort of aging guy in many ways, can still put them down and escape unscathed. Unscathed outwardly, that is.
The final sentence of this one sums it all up.
I never met Charlie Willeford but I knew his third wife when I lived in Miami and she was a very spicy person with a quick wit. I wasn't even meaning to read a Miami book right now but in a Library of America omnibus of crime stories I read one of Willeford's first, and it was so unusual and haunting that I went looking for more. Miami books always make me glad I moved away from Miami but they exert a certain slimy allure...
The style is deadpan and precise..."Hoke finished his beer. He looked around but couldn't see a place to put down the stein without leaving a ring on the polished tables." This can be irritating but after a while you realize that you are seeing a very precise picture...which can turn from commonplace to extremely unpleasant in the blink of an eye, kind of like Miami itself.
Over-the-top bad guys are abundant (I think Carl Hiassen must've been inspired by Charlie) and you rejoice that Hoke, a normal sort of aging guy in many ways, can still put them down and escape unscathed. Unscathed outwardly, that is.
The final sentence of this one sums it all up.
August 13, 2011
Wow. Might become my favorite book in this series (aside from the brilliant first one), a hugely under-looked series of crime novels set in Florida. I always tell friends that reading Willeford is something like if Werner Herzog wrote noir fiction. Both amoral and almost humanistic, or at least psychologically astute. His books are also strange, surreal, often funny, always fascinating. Anyway, this is the fourth and last in his series of Hoke Moseley novels. They are all great and should be read in order. Plus, since no one knows of him, you can often find used first edition books of his for under five bucks. What are you waiting for?
January 7, 2010
Shockingly good. Excellent ending.
If true darkness of the human condition can be said to exist down there in the bright Florida sun, this is as close as one can get to capturing it on paper.
Strongly recommended. But if you are going to read a Hoke novel, read this one last.
If true darkness of the human condition can be said to exist down there in the bright Florida sun, this is as close as one can get to capturing it on paper.
Strongly recommended. But if you are going to read a Hoke novel, read this one last.
February 18, 2023
Hoke Moseley's life is finally back on track. His youngest daughter Aileen is healthy again. His former partner Ellita is on disability pension and raising her infant son. Hoke is close to solving two cold case murders--the first, a successful surgeon gunned down outside his home, and the second, two unknown Haitian immigrants discovered dead inside a fumigation tent.
Then, a convict Hoke sent to prison eight years ago moves into the house directly across the street. Donald Hutton insinuates himself into the lives of Hoke's family, which Hoke believes is a prelude to some elaborate revenge scheme…
Major Whitely recruits him for an off-the-books, not entirely legal undercover operation. Someone has been killing Haitian day laborers and dumping their bodies in the Everglades. Hoke surrenders his gun, his badge, even his set of false teeth. For this assignment he is given only the name of a suspect and $8 in his wallet…
This is the fourth and final Hoke Moseley novel before the author's death in 1988. The various subplots are all over the place, weaving in and around each other, sometimes connecting but usually not. Despite being less than 250 pages long, it feels leisurely and meandering. It is a rumination on the various reasons people kill. Some kill for greed, some for hate, some for love, some for honor--but we all die the same.
Hoke remains very much an enigma, an embodiment of a machismo culture that has stunted his emotions. He does not understand why the sight of a neglected, severely disabled child makes him sick to his stomach. He is capable of killing men and dogs with barely a backward glance, but then he will put his life in danger to milk a goat "to give her some relief."
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Stephen Bowlby. 3 stars.
Then, a convict Hoke sent to prison eight years ago moves into the house directly across the street. Donald Hutton insinuates himself into the lives of Hoke's family, which Hoke believes is a prelude to some elaborate revenge scheme…
Major Whitely recruits him for an off-the-books, not entirely legal undercover operation. Someone has been killing Haitian day laborers and dumping their bodies in the Everglades. Hoke surrenders his gun, his badge, even his set of false teeth. For this assignment he is given only the name of a suspect and $8 in his wallet…
This is the fourth and final Hoke Moseley novel before the author's death in 1988. The various subplots are all over the place, weaving in and around each other, sometimes connecting but usually not. Despite being less than 250 pages long, it feels leisurely and meandering. It is a rumination on the various reasons people kill. Some kill for greed, some for hate, some for love, some for honor--but we all die the same.
Hoke remains very much an enigma, an embodiment of a machismo culture that has stunted his emotions. He does not understand why the sight of a neglected, severely disabled child makes him sick to his stomach. He is capable of killing men and dogs with barely a backward glance, but then he will put his life in danger to milk a goat "to give her some relief."
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Stephen Bowlby. 3 stars.
July 9, 2022
I find myself really enjoying he Hoke Moseley novels of Charles Willeford. Two months ago, I read Miami Blues, and this evening I finished reading The Way We Die Now. In case you didn't know, Hoke Moseley is a homicide detective for the Miami police department, and his adventures partake of that special craziness which is Florida (and I speak as someone who has not only lived there, but visited several times).
There are two main threads in this novel, the larger one being an undercover gig investigating a corrupt redneck farmer who disappears his Haitian pickers rather than paying them. And just to add a little fillip to the scene, a murderer who has threatened to kill Hoke for putting him away suddenly has moved in across the street and spends his time staring at the Moseley household.
The title is a spoof on Anthony Trollope's The Way We Live Now, my favorite among his Victorian novels.
There are two main threads in this novel, the larger one being an undercover gig investigating a corrupt redneck farmer who disappears his Haitian pickers rather than paying them. And just to add a little fillip to the scene, a murderer who has threatened to kill Hoke for putting him away suddenly has moved in across the street and spends his time staring at the Moseley household.
The title is a spoof on Anthony Trollope's The Way We Live Now, my favorite among his Victorian novels.
June 9, 2022
CW doesn't strictly write crime fiction. It's all disgusting descriptions of food and people, repressed feelings of sexuality and desire, and digressions into the heavy personality of Miami and backwoods Florida. This is a fully formed world that is somehow realer than real. I was genuinely disturbed by the trailer park scene and the incident at the farm took me completely by surprise. His prose is great, spare but evocative. The characters are complex and full of warts. I really can't say enough good about this series. This book in particular would make for a wonderful film adaptation. This is the type of series that begs for future re-reads.
February 19, 2023
My least favorite in the series, but nice twist at the end.
July 23, 2018
Unfortunately the Hoke Moseley series went out with a whimper instead of a bang. The book felt too much like wrapping up loose ends, as if Willeford knew this would be his last.
February 24, 2013
It felt like Willeford wrote parts of this book in his sleep. I am not criticizing him. But its just that the two major crime investigations in THE WAY WE DIE NOW seemed to be arbitrarily written. Almost as if Willeford was saying - Hey look, I wanted to write this existential novel about a detective in Florida but then nobody would read it, so I am including a couple of ridiculous and over the top crime investigations so that my book would actually get published.
There is actually a short introduction to the characters at the beginning and an explanation of what happened to them in the previous novel, probably for the benefit of a reader who would randomly pick up this novel. It felt a bit out of place - it took away a bit from the weirdness and randomness of the novels plot development, I wonder if Willeford was under pressure from the publisher to write this intro. The crime investigations are used to emphasize Hoke Moseley’s approach to solving crimes – mostly by using common sense. One of the crime investigations is uncharacteristically violent. The appearance in Hoke’s neighborhood of a criminal whom he had put away years ago might suggest that maybe Hoke is not as thorough and efficient in solving crimes as it may seem.
MIAMI BLUES, the first book in the Hoke Moseley series was the tightest of the four novels with the bad guy planning a heist and Hoke Moseley the detective hunting him down even as he struggles with his everyday problems. But the sequels are more interesting because they are not really about the crime investigations, they are about life in Florida (and America) and the gradual meltdown of a really smart detective as life slowly gets to him. In between the investigations, Willeford tells you about the positive discrimination in the Miami police force, white flight, housing problems faced by white people and race relations within the police department (police officers of different races do not socialize after work) and outside it (an early breakfast table conversation between Hoke, his Cuban detective partner Elita and Hoke's two kids who all live together suggests that there is a bit of a culture clash between them).
Willeford’s genius lies in the characterization of Moseley. Moseley might be a police detective but he is not someone who can live anywhere he wants to. He cannot live in Black and Cuban neighbourhoods because he has to worry about the safety of his daughters. He is not some hard drinking beef cake who can beat up ten men and get laid whenever he wants to. Moseley is a smart man who likes the simple pleasures – watching Saturday Night Live, drinking Michelob/Old Style beer and eating good food. But he has to deal with spirit crushing everyday problems and he goes about it with the minimum amount of bitterness. He has his beautiful Cuban detective partner living with him but he seems to let go of the chance to start a relationship with her because of their jobs in the same police department and because he does not like the way she eats sandwiches and wears perfume. And then there are his two kids with whom he has some hilarious exchanges.
Willeford’s writing is almost like Mosley’s life. Like Moseley, he barely manages to rein things in. After the two crime investigations, he just about manages to balance things off with the social commentary, the weird humour and the horror of Moseley’s life which makes THE WAY WE DIE NOW a truly unique crime fiction novel. I really wish these novels were more widely read. You’ve really got to appreciate Willeford’s knowledge about a variety of topics. This is why I compared him to Philp.K.Dick in another comment. Like Dick, Willeford uses these snippets of knowledge to make interesting dialog or substantiate and fortify crime investigations (which might otherwise come across as absurd).
Norman Mailer wrote that only people with criminal instincts join the police force (I don’t remember the exact quote, but it was something to that effect). I don’t know how true this is. But Willeford portrays Moseley as an average man with the anxieties of the average man, almost as if he is saying that the police detective is as much a victim of the system as the average man. And that is why for me, Hoke Moseley is a much more memorable and identifiable American character who represents the horror and wickedness of the American dream than say more famous ones like Harry Rabbit Angstrom, Tommy Wilhelm or Stephen Rojack.
There is actually a short introduction to the characters at the beginning and an explanation of what happened to them in the previous novel, probably for the benefit of a reader who would randomly pick up this novel. It felt a bit out of place - it took away a bit from the weirdness and randomness of the novels plot development, I wonder if Willeford was under pressure from the publisher to write this intro. The crime investigations are used to emphasize Hoke Moseley’s approach to solving crimes – mostly by using common sense. One of the crime investigations is uncharacteristically violent. The appearance in Hoke’s neighborhood of a criminal whom he had put away years ago might suggest that maybe Hoke is not as thorough and efficient in solving crimes as it may seem.
MIAMI BLUES, the first book in the Hoke Moseley series was the tightest of the four novels with the bad guy planning a heist and Hoke Moseley the detective hunting him down even as he struggles with his everyday problems. But the sequels are more interesting because they are not really about the crime investigations, they are about life in Florida (and America) and the gradual meltdown of a really smart detective as life slowly gets to him. In between the investigations, Willeford tells you about the positive discrimination in the Miami police force, white flight, housing problems faced by white people and race relations within the police department (police officers of different races do not socialize after work) and outside it (an early breakfast table conversation between Hoke, his Cuban detective partner Elita and Hoke's two kids who all live together suggests that there is a bit of a culture clash between them).
Willeford’s genius lies in the characterization of Moseley. Moseley might be a police detective but he is not someone who can live anywhere he wants to. He cannot live in Black and Cuban neighbourhoods because he has to worry about the safety of his daughters. He is not some hard drinking beef cake who can beat up ten men and get laid whenever he wants to. Moseley is a smart man who likes the simple pleasures – watching Saturday Night Live, drinking Michelob/Old Style beer and eating good food. But he has to deal with spirit crushing everyday problems and he goes about it with the minimum amount of bitterness. He has his beautiful Cuban detective partner living with him but he seems to let go of the chance to start a relationship with her because of their jobs in the same police department and because he does not like the way she eats sandwiches and wears perfume. And then there are his two kids with whom he has some hilarious exchanges.
Willeford’s writing is almost like Mosley’s life. Like Moseley, he barely manages to rein things in. After the two crime investigations, he just about manages to balance things off with the social commentary, the weird humour and the horror of Moseley’s life which makes THE WAY WE DIE NOW a truly unique crime fiction novel. I really wish these novels were more widely read. You’ve really got to appreciate Willeford’s knowledge about a variety of topics. This is why I compared him to Philp.K.Dick in another comment. Like Dick, Willeford uses these snippets of knowledge to make interesting dialog or substantiate and fortify crime investigations (which might otherwise come across as absurd).
Norman Mailer wrote that only people with criminal instincts join the police force (I don’t remember the exact quote, but it was something to that effect). I don’t know how true this is. But Willeford portrays Moseley as an average man with the anxieties of the average man, almost as if he is saying that the police detective is as much a victim of the system as the average man. And that is why for me, Hoke Moseley is a much more memorable and identifiable American character who represents the horror and wickedness of the American dream than say more famous ones like Harry Rabbit Angstrom, Tommy Wilhelm or Stephen Rojack.
December 12, 2015
The Way We Die Now (1988) is the fourth and last of Charles Willeford’s Hoke Moseley crime novels; it was published just before Willeford’s death. Hoke is homicide detective sergeant in Miami homicide with a strange home life: he lives with his two teenage daughters, his former partner Ellita, and Ellita’s infant son by another man. Hoke’s relationship with Ellita is platonic and motivated by cost sharing.
Hoke has been assigned to the murder of Dr. Paul Russell in his own driveway. Prior to the murder, Dr. Russell’s garage door opener was stolen from his car, forcing him to park outside the garage and setting him up for the shooting. After the murder, Russell’s wife, Louise, married Dr. Leo Schwartz, one of Russell’s partners. Coincidence? Hoke’s nose is twitching as he and Gonzales, his incompetent partner, pursue the odor.
On the home front, who should rent the house across the street from Hoke but Donald Hutton, who just got out of prison after serving ten years for murdering his brother using the old rat poison trick; Hoke had been the arresting detective on that case. Coincidence? To add to Hoke’s discomfort, Ellita invites Hutton to dinner and starts to date him. What a recipe we’re getting?
While juggling the Russell murder and home issues, Hoke is asked to go on a covert assignment to investigate the possibility that a large farmland owner in Immokalee is taking a page from Killing Mr. Watson (1990), Peter Matthieson’s wonderful 1990 novel about a farmer in the Ten Thousand Islands area of southwest Florida circa 1900. Watson had a reputation for hiring seasonal workers at his sugar cane farm and murdering them at the end of the season; in local parlance, this is known as a “Watson Payday.” Hoke’s case has him go to a farm owned by Tiny Boch, where Haitian workers are kept in captivity. All hell breaks loose but Hoke survives to return to his life in Miami-- only to find that his mission had been a setup by his superiors.
This is not an emotion-evoking book—-Hoke is a seasoned cop—-though Hoke's daughters and Ellita provide some emotional substance. It is also not a rip-roaring thriller—-there are moments of good action but much of the story is devoted to seeing the cop’s life through the eyes of the cop; not just the street aspects of the job but also the bureaucratic bulls**t and the cover-your-ass aspects of police politics. It is a different kind of "thriller." For me, this was a good book, worth reading but not close to awesome.
3½ stars.
Hoke has been assigned to the murder of Dr. Paul Russell in his own driveway. Prior to the murder, Dr. Russell’s garage door opener was stolen from his car, forcing him to park outside the garage and setting him up for the shooting. After the murder, Russell’s wife, Louise, married Dr. Leo Schwartz, one of Russell’s partners. Coincidence? Hoke’s nose is twitching as he and Gonzales, his incompetent partner, pursue the odor.
On the home front, who should rent the house across the street from Hoke but Donald Hutton, who just got out of prison after serving ten years for murdering his brother using the old rat poison trick; Hoke had been the arresting detective on that case. Coincidence? To add to Hoke’s discomfort, Ellita invites Hutton to dinner and starts to date him. What a recipe we’re getting?
While juggling the Russell murder and home issues, Hoke is asked to go on a covert assignment to investigate the possibility that a large farmland owner in Immokalee is taking a page from Killing Mr. Watson (1990), Peter Matthieson’s wonderful 1990 novel about a farmer in the Ten Thousand Islands area of southwest Florida circa 1900. Watson had a reputation for hiring seasonal workers at his sugar cane farm and murdering them at the end of the season; in local parlance, this is known as a “Watson Payday.” Hoke’s case has him go to a farm owned by Tiny Boch, where Haitian workers are kept in captivity. All hell breaks loose but Hoke survives to return to his life in Miami-- only to find that his mission had been a setup by his superiors.
This is not an emotion-evoking book—-Hoke is a seasoned cop—-though Hoke's daughters and Ellita provide some emotional substance. It is also not a rip-roaring thriller—-there are moments of good action but much of the story is devoted to seeing the cop’s life through the eyes of the cop; not just the street aspects of the job but also the bureaucratic bulls**t and the cover-your-ass aspects of police politics. It is a different kind of "thriller." For me, this was a good book, worth reading but not close to awesome.
3½ stars.
June 7, 2015
It's almost as much fun reading Willeford reviews as it is reading Willeford. Well, that's a bit of hyperbole, but the reviews are amusing, especially the negative ones. Some people simply don't get it. One reviewer says Willeford spends too much time on minutiae like descriptions of food. All I can say is, these little details are what give this series its "day in the life" quality. If you read back through the other three books in the series, food is a recurring topic. It adds a basic affirmation of "life" to stories that are largely about death. Remember the famous pork chop scene in Miami Blues?
The same reviewer noted that Willeford wrote a slight redundancy in this book that should have been edited out. Whether this is true or not, accusing Willeford of overwriting is incredibly absurd. It's the deadpan simplicity of Willeford's prose that makes him so extraordinary. I suppose the critic thinks Hemingway over-wrote, too.
Another critic takes issue with the political incorrectness in this book, especially concerning race. All I can say is, Willeford must be howling with laughter from his grave. Of course it's politically incorrect! That's Hoke Moseley.
To reiterate: Some people just don't get Willeford. Thankfully, most of us do. Elmore Leonard wrote that "Nobody writes a better crime novel" than Willeford. I suppose Leonard could be considered somewhat of an expert in the genre. Donald Westlake's preface to this book is a sincere paean to a writer who was greatly admired by every other writer in the genre, most of whom had greater commercial success than Willeford. But that's the way it always is. Someone invents something; others make money from it.
_The Way We Die Now_ is unfortunately the last in the Hoke Moseley series. Willeford died the year it was published. But he definitely went out with a bang. The book is shocking, gruesome, hilarious, captivating--and life-affirming. Willeford was no nihilist. And throughout this book, we get the same sense that we got from all of the man's previous works: the feeling that Willeford is pulling our leg. Lawrence Block wrote a long tribute to Willeford that focuses on this exact tendency: Nobody ever knew when Willeford was serious or when he was joking. I guess we will never know for sure. But he sure left us with a great literary legacy.
The same reviewer noted that Willeford wrote a slight redundancy in this book that should have been edited out. Whether this is true or not, accusing Willeford of overwriting is incredibly absurd. It's the deadpan simplicity of Willeford's prose that makes him so extraordinary. I suppose the critic thinks Hemingway over-wrote, too.
Another critic takes issue with the political incorrectness in this book, especially concerning race. All I can say is, Willeford must be howling with laughter from his grave. Of course it's politically incorrect! That's Hoke Moseley.
To reiterate: Some people just don't get Willeford. Thankfully, most of us do. Elmore Leonard wrote that "Nobody writes a better crime novel" than Willeford. I suppose Leonard could be considered somewhat of an expert in the genre. Donald Westlake's preface to this book is a sincere paean to a writer who was greatly admired by every other writer in the genre, most of whom had greater commercial success than Willeford. But that's the way it always is. Someone invents something; others make money from it.
_The Way We Die Now_ is unfortunately the last in the Hoke Moseley series. Willeford died the year it was published. But he definitely went out with a bang. The book is shocking, gruesome, hilarious, captivating--and life-affirming. Willeford was no nihilist. And throughout this book, we get the same sense that we got from all of the man's previous works: the feeling that Willeford is pulling our leg. Lawrence Block wrote a long tribute to Willeford that focuses on this exact tendency: Nobody ever knew when Willeford was serious or when he was joking. I guess we will never know for sure. But he sure left us with a great literary legacy.
June 19, 2016
Sergeant Hoke Moseley has some problems. Miami's Homicide Department is short handed on detectives and Hoke's partner in solving cold cases is lackluster economics graduate. Par for the course, Hoke's home life is all over the place as his daughters are living very unique lifestyles and his former partner Ellita and her son Pepe are living in his crowded household. To add to this chaos, an early released murder suspect that Hoke put away 10 years ago has moved in right across the street from his house. This ghost from the past casts a shadow over their lives and appears to have intentions on inviting himself into Hoke's life whether the family wants it or not. To top everything, Major Brownley has assigned Sergeant Moseley to an undercover job outside of Miami jurisdiction hunting down whomever is burying servile Haitian farm laborers. This funky, quirky, eccentric, violent, obscure, entertaining, and fast paced tale will take readers on a satisfying journey that operates outside of the conventional and expected detective narrative. Bravo.
Willeford's series is a lot more than crime fiction. The Hoke books (especially the three follow ups to Miami Blues) are also commentary on capitalism, immigration, affirmative action, family life, societal boners, and law and order. The Way We Die Now also has a perfect amount of humor sprinkled in the story to lighten some of the grotesque scenes. The violence is quite suspenseful and showcases Hoke acting outside of traditional police procedural practices and encountering some truly bizarre individuals. Fans of the series who have not read this entry yet are in for some legitimate surprises. With Willeford, you really must expect the unexpected and the fourth and final Hoke mystery offers an unconventional take on the detective formula.
Finishing the series is fun and a little sad because there are no more new Hoke books. These were enticing enough to inspire finishing the rest of Willeford's work. If you are new to Willeford and Hoke Moseley please start with Miami Blues! Cockfighter is also worth checking out if you are looking for something outside of the crime genre. I feel obligated to rank the Moseley books so here is my two bits:
1. Miami Blues
2. The Way We Die Now
3. Sideswipe
4. New Hope for the Dead
Enjoy these books!
Willeford's series is a lot more than crime fiction. The Hoke books (especially the three follow ups to Miami Blues) are also commentary on capitalism, immigration, affirmative action, family life, societal boners, and law and order. The Way We Die Now also has a perfect amount of humor sprinkled in the story to lighten some of the grotesque scenes. The violence is quite suspenseful and showcases Hoke acting outside of traditional police procedural practices and encountering some truly bizarre individuals. Fans of the series who have not read this entry yet are in for some legitimate surprises. With Willeford, you really must expect the unexpected and the fourth and final Hoke mystery offers an unconventional take on the detective formula.
Finishing the series is fun and a little sad because there are no more new Hoke books. These were enticing enough to inspire finishing the rest of Willeford's work. If you are new to Willeford and Hoke Moseley please start with Miami Blues! Cockfighter is also worth checking out if you are looking for something outside of the crime genre. I feel obligated to rank the Moseley books so here is my two bits:
1. Miami Blues
2. The Way We Die Now
3. Sideswipe
4. New Hope for the Dead
Enjoy these books!
February 15, 2019
And so I have come to the end of Charles Willeford’s Hank Moseley series which, while at times was quite entertaining, mostly disappointed me after its great entry (Miami Blues).
As I said in my reviews of the last two books, I expected more cat-and-mouse affairs with Moseley and criminals. I didn’t think this would be a series about a sad sack cop’s private life with some police bureaucracy and a little detective work thrown in. That’s mostly what these books are.
And while I’ve critiqued Moseley’s racism in past reviews, it’s time to stop dancing around it: the dude is a straight up racist. Yeah maybe he’s not bad by the low bar of police department standards but he’s a racist. He’ll have all the respect in the world for non-white individuals but he’s very big into denigrating entire ethnic groups based on stereotypes. Of course, he’s examining these groups through a cop’s eye and the job of the police is to find crime among them, so that’s what he does. It’s a myopic way of viewing the world and, while perhaps honest with the reader as to the sympathies a white detective in 80s Miami would have, it still made me really hate Hoke.
And again, the cases themselves, while interestingly resolved, don’t provide any sort of real suspense. There’s a weird diversion that takes up the second third of the book and, while it has an interesting tie in to the end, kind of left me frustrated. Also, there’s family drama going on with Hoke, Ellita and the girls that sucks too much story line, especially in a somewhat implausible way.
I like Charles Willeford as a writer. I wanted to like the series more. I can’t say I regret reading it…but I wish a different, better version of it existed.
As I said in my reviews of the last two books, I expected more cat-and-mouse affairs with Moseley and criminals. I didn’t think this would be a series about a sad sack cop’s private life with some police bureaucracy and a little detective work thrown in. That’s mostly what these books are.
And while I’ve critiqued Moseley’s racism in past reviews, it’s time to stop dancing around it: the dude is a straight up racist. Yeah maybe he’s not bad by the low bar of police department standards but he’s a racist. He’ll have all the respect in the world for non-white individuals but he’s very big into denigrating entire ethnic groups based on stereotypes. Of course, he’s examining these groups through a cop’s eye and the job of the police is to find crime among them, so that’s what he does. It’s a myopic way of viewing the world and, while perhaps honest with the reader as to the sympathies a white detective in 80s Miami would have, it still made me really hate Hoke.
And again, the cases themselves, while interestingly resolved, don’t provide any sort of real suspense. There’s a weird diversion that takes up the second third of the book and, while it has an interesting tie in to the end, kind of left me frustrated. Also, there’s family drama going on with Hoke, Ellita and the girls that sucks too much story line, especially in a somewhat implausible way.
I like Charles Willeford as a writer. I wanted to like the series more. I can’t say I regret reading it…but I wish a different, better version of it existed.
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