Maybe I’m guilty. Okay. LL could write spit and I’d call it transcendent.
That said, I have to admit, re AWSWG, there are one or two little nagging elements about several characters that bothered me, badass pimp Val and his previously undisclosed Filipino common-law wife living upstate with whom he has three children. She is—we are asked to believe without question—an incredibly unsophisticated foreign-born woman who believes for over ten years, that her very bad husband is trapped overseas because of a false conspiracy that makes it impossible for him to return to the US legally. Yes. He is trapped and society is the better for it. He’s serving a life sentence for a murder he committed. The little Filipino wife never thought of trying to visit him overseas? For over a decade—for over ten-plus years and she never thought it odd that maybe he could travel to Montreal for a quiet weekend for a tearful reunion with she and the kids? The infrequent and monitored telephone calls never raised an eyebrow? Unless Val’s heretofore private-life wife is extremely dysfunctional, it would seem to me that we could expect a woman with responsibilities for raising three children in contemporary America to acclimate to life more quickly than she evidently had.
Even with now twenty-year old technology, she would have had to have been sophisticated enough to ask those questions herself; the kids would have educated her. They would have instructed their mother and taught her American English everyday.
Questions do arise in the readers’ minds: the porous international borders serviced by the biggest luxury airliners with the most comfortable first-class cabins of any fleets in the pre-9/11 international routes international air carriers? Really.) The history of another minor character rang untrue, and occasionally, events surrounding plot-turning action seemed illogical or unlikely. In a lesser writer, the nagging I felt as I read a paragraph here and there would have signaled an impending derailment, and probably a complete rupture in the suspension of disbelief. The end. I would have finished a long time before the concluding words of the story on the printed page. I would have closed the book and turned to my shelf. Next!
None of that matters with LL. I just read on, a damned happy and more than willing passenger in the capable hands of a modern master, a former full-time beat journalist on a major metropolitan newspaper, a decade and more ago now, when major cities had major newspapers (plural). LL is a thoroughly modern twenty-first century woman, and family oriented mother; she has seen an awful lot of life in her just-barely-fifty years. She is more than a little knowledgeable about the surprising twists, the poor choices, the bad luck, and the unexpected speed bumps in the everyday life of the modern American, and she is keenly aware of the proximity of life’s dark underbelly. She knows what a brush with the criminal element can mean to a well ordered life, and understands the complexities of the human psyche lurking just beneath our skins, even in the suburbs of Baltimore.
I always know (or believe I know) what I’m going to read next, and I always know how much I liked a book when I am at its end. If I’m particularly saddened by finishing the last page, and the act of closing the cover seems painful, distressing even, I have been blown away by something extraordinary. What I will read next sometimes changes based on how I feel at the end of each book. I want either something complimentary, or something completely different.
And When She Was Good is a wonderful book, despite the few objections noted above, and they were trivial offenses, which I can forgive. Just as with every one of her novels, I enjoyed it from beginning to end.
Seriously, it may not be her finest, but still, having said all that, it is one damned satisfying read. Happy page turning!