Don’t read any of Sean Costello’s books if you’re looking for one of those novels that sends the egghead crowd Ooo-ing and Aahh-ing. You know the type of book I’m talking about, the ones reviewers refer to as ‘multi-layered’ and ‘luminous’ or then tell you to ‘linger and savour’ the ‘quiet passages’. Damn, if it’s lingering and savouring you’re after then grab a slice of cheesecake and a nice cup of tea … but forget about Costello's novels because each one begins by laying down a long strip of rubber and then screams toward the far horizon. When you’re strapped into the passenger seat of one of these babies, you better hang on to the By-the-Jesus handle because you’re in for the ride of your life. And while the vector may seem like 180, you'll find the plot takes a sharp 90 before you can say boo.
If you’re looking for an old-school good read, turn to Costello. Like Raymond Chandler, Elmore Leonard, Georges Simenon or John D. MacDonald, his prose is tough, his dialogue is tight and his action is swift. But hold on, just because I’m saying you can easily read his work doesn’t mean you can turn off the old brain box. I’m not accusing Costello of creating a cowboy world of white hats and black hats. Just like Stephen King, Costello creates believable protagonists with some likeable traits … and some very dark stuff happening inside their heads (dare I say, ‘souls’). Take Peter Gardner (Captain Quad), the high school wunderkind who after being paralysed descends into a hellish world of rage and blood-soaked revenge. Or how about Scott Bowman (The Cartoonist), the psychiatrist who kills a child and then falls victim to the worm of guilt that chews through his sanity? Or Peter Croft (Here After), whose obsession with finding his child’s kidnapper leads him into an alternate reality? All these guys (and they are all guys) started out ordinary but then something happened to them. But what? That’s the silent question Costello poses, just as he asks if you can draw the line between normalcy and insanity, between the brightly-lit everyday world and the nightmare. How much does it take to push us across that line? I don’t know, do you? Costello suggests all it takes is a porcupine crossing the road (Captain Quad), a sudden winter storm (Squall), a moment of inattention (The Cartoonist), or a call in the night (Eden’s Eyes). Like the anaesthetist in Eden’s Eyes, will you find yourself looking down at an inert body you’re keeping alive only long enough for the scavengers to swoop in and take the eyes, the kidneys, the….? As with Edward Albee, Costello asks if we live our lives in a delicate balance and, if so, how little might it take to tip us to the dark side?