Norman Green, critically acclaimed author of four crime novels, debuts a fresh, edgy character in the streetwise Alessandra Martillo, a female take on the P.I.s of yesteryear. Tough as nails and sometimes heartless, smart and altogether too brave for her own good, Al is one of the most interesting lead characters to hit crime fiction in years.
A teenage runaway from the Brownsville projects, Alessandra Martillo lived with an indifferent aunt who had taken her in when her mother killed herself, and later, after more than a year on the streets, a caring uncle found her, took her in, and showed her she had a chance. That was many years ago, and now Alessandra’s all grown up, working for a sleazy P.I., repossessing cars, and trolling for waitstaff on the take. The cases aren’t glamorous, or interesting, but the work pays the bills. And she’s good at it—if there’s one thing she’s learned since leaving the streets, it’s how to take care of herself around life’s shadier elements.
When an Irish mobster named Daniel “Mickey” Caughlan thinks someone on the inside of his shipping operation is trying to set him up for a fall, it’s Al he wants on the job. She’s to find the traitor and report back. But just a little digging shows it’s more complicated than a simple turncoat inside the family; Al’s barely started on the case when she runs into a few tough guys trying to warn her away. Fools. As if a little confrontation wouldn’t make her even more determined.
Gritty and unputdownable, this is perfect for fans of James Lee Burke and Robert Crais.
Norman Green reports this about himself: "I have always been careful, as Mark Twain advised, not to let schooling interfere with my education. Too careful, maybe. I have been, at various times, a truck driver, a construction worker, a project engineer, a factory rep, and a plant engineer, but never, until now, a writer." He lives in Emerson, New Jersey, with his wife.
This was a hardboiled mystery, and the protagnoist is a twenty year old Puerto Rican girl from the Bronx. You can imagine how over the top it goes from there. I was going to cut it some slack because I really like female protagonists, and I want them to succeed, but this was just too much.
Where the book first lost me (and I promise, I really wanted to love this book. I like hardboiled fiction and I like heroines! I wanted to be able to recommend this book to people at the library!) was when Martillo gets beaten up really bad and the doc is all, “you need to stay in bed for a week.” and instead after two days Martillo is back on the street, and the doc sees her again and is all, “I’ve never seen anyone heal so quickly.” And I swear I said aloud, “What the hell? Is this fan fiction?”
Martillo has a huge chip on her shoulder about having a crappy childhood and being poor and that’s great and all, I get it, but it’s mentioned roughly 40 times in the book.
The Redundancy Dept. called. They want their plot device back.
Dear Authors,
Quit beating readers over the head with the same shit over and over. WE GET IT.
Love,
Jaimie
Seriously, it’s okay to have a character with a chip on his/her shoulder. It’s even okay for that chip to be about his/her upbringing. And? It’s even more okay to have the chip about the upbringing be about how he/she was poor and/or wrong side of the tracks whathaveyou. However, if you’re going to mention this more than three times in a 300 page book it’s obviously REALLY important. And if it’s REALLY important IT NEEDS TO GO SOMEWHERE.
FOR INSTANCE, it can be used as a tool, which I think is how it was in this book. (like a, “hey, i was raised in the ghetto of brooklyn, i know not to park my car over there.” kind of thing.) But if that’s all that it is then it doesn’t need forty mentions. On the other hand, if the heroine realizes that hey, having a chip on your shoulder about things you can’t change is actually a weakness, and you can benefit and be stronger if you work through all of this, then yes, I can see how it would get mentioned a bit more. Especially if this is learned at the end and all, but this is not the case with this book.
In fact, what she learns about herself is far more disappointing. Basically, she thinks she could just be happy if she could just find a nice guy who will let her know that everything will be okay. And that’s what she gets. Well bullshit on THAT.
The Cliche Dept. called and… I don’t even have to say it.
Wouldn’t it have been nice if maybe a tough-as-nails young lady, who’s made it by on her own for lo these many years, who by the way, not only solves the mystery, but also gets to kick a little ass, also got to feel great about herself at the end? That maybe she could’ve learned that she’s actually awesome and that despite of her upbringing, despite of the odds against her (being living week to week, no formal higher education, dangerous job etc.), tht maybe she completes herself? And then, learning that she completes herself she can then go find a guy (or girl) and go have fun or have a meaningful relationship or whathaveyou? Is that so impossible? Is that so fucking impossbile that that can’t even happen in a FICTION BOOK?
No, some weenie gets to save her with a bottle of whiskey and a hug.
I did like the parts about the music business. Those parts seemed really knowledgeable and were generally interesting.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A strong and interesting lead, not too cliched, and with some original spark. Also a fairly compelling plot with a couple of good twists. Thinking I may be interested in Al Martillo #2.
I hardly ever do this, but with the first few pages I found I just didn't have the patience to go through the routine of being introduced to a snappy new protagonist designed to carry me through a series of investigation books. Here's a chick who knows how to take care of herself, grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, is smarter than the world of men will ever give her credit for, drinks Cutty on the rocks, plays pool like a shark, yada yada yada. But instead of just putting the book down and never picking it up again, for some reason I decided to skip the intro and cracked the book again at about the one-third mark to see if it was readable once the story was flowing.
Well, readable it is. Even though we're floating around backstage with a band trying to make it in the (ho-hum) cutthroat music industry, drugs, groupies, jaded hangers-on, talented musicians with crappy attitudes, really, one cliché after another, something about the prose is crisp and active and it was pretty painless to keep turning pages, three or four dozen of them. Even our pat protagonist seems companionable enough as she keeps up a running inner monolog about all the guys who've lied to her and put her down and come up short while reflexively lying to everybody around her in the course of her insinuating herself into the situation she's investigating. (It's called "cover" when the good guys do it.)
But I'm putting the book away again. Even though the prose is admirably readable, the arc of the story is so clearly conventional that I can't quite brace myself for the rattle down to the chapter of revelations. Somebody else might read this book and find the characters and the setting refreshing. I hope they find it and enjoy it.
The Last Gig (Minotaur 2009) introduces Alessandra (Al) Martillo, a young woman of Puerto Rican heritage who grew up in the Brownsville projects and the streets of New York City. Rescued from the streets by Tio Bobby, Al is struggling with her Affection Deficit Disorder while working as an assistant to Marty Stiles, an ex-NYPD cop turned PI. An Irish mobster hires Al through Marty to find whoever is setting him up for a fall and Al gets interested in the death of the mobster’s son from a drug overdose. A connection between the dead son and a rock star leads Al into the music world. Al isn’t exactly sure where her investigation is leading her, but knows she must be getting close to something since she is tailed, threatened, and beaten up. Tough, smart, wary, and nearly indestructible, Al is a throwback to the hard-boiled PIs of yore. Endearing despite her lethal nature, Al is an enjoyable protagonist. Norman Green page at SYKM
A is what I always wanted Kinsey Millhone to be- stronger, harder, sexier, more issues. More engaged with life than introspective, or skirting its edges. A's skirting is to observe and stay a step of the bad guys. But she'll engage all right- with her foot up their ass! Kinsey is removed emotionally from life to save herself from pain. She's just so pale; no juice. But A, is lush and bold. She leaps in where angels fear to tread and takes her licks for doing it like a warrior. Loved it. And my husband did too!
Al (for Alessandra) Martillo is a Puerto Rican girl from a rough background in New York who works for a slightly shady private security outfit, repossessing cars and catching bartenders with their hand in the till. She's smart, hard as nails and a knockout to boot, but she keeps her distance from men. When an Irish gangster hires her to find out who's betraying him, things get interesting and very, very dangerous. Norman Green is one of my favorite writers; he knows the streets and he knows the people.
Main character a woman and the author is male - but hey he did OK I thought over all - some of her actions maybe a bit over the top but being not from the big city what do I know for sure!!
Intense first of a series - Puerto Rican girl who is like a super woman around NYC area; dark; not sure if I want to continue - you can tell it's written by a man.