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Lydia Chin & Bill Smith #13
The Art of Violence
In the latest mystery from S. J. Rozan, Bill Smith and Lydia Chin must track down a serial killer stalking women in New York's contemporary art scene.Former client Sam Tabor, just out of Greenhaven after a five-year homicide stint, comes to Bill Smith with a strange request. A colossally talented painter whose parole was orchestrated by art world movers and shakers, Sam's convinced that since he's been out he's killed two women. He doesn't remember the killings but he wants Smith, one of the few people he trusts, to investigate and prove him either innocent or guilty. NYPD detective Angela Grimaldi thinks Sam's "a weirdo." Smith has no argument with diagnosed with a number of mental disorders over the years, Sam self-medicates with alcohol, loses focus (except when he's painting), and has few friends. But Smith doesn't think that adds up to serial killer. He enlists Lydia Chin to help prove it. Smith and Chin delve into the world surrounding Sam Tabor, including his brother, two NYPD detectives, and various other artists, dealers, collectors, curators, and art connoisseurs. No answers appear. Evidence is found and lost again. And more bodies turn up. Sam Tabor might be just a crazy artist. But someone is killing people in his orbit. If not Sam, who? Why? And who will be next?
285 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 1, 2020
110 people are currently reading
504 people want to read
About the author
S.J. Rozan
127 books384 followersSJ Rozan, a native New Yorker, is the author of the Bill Smith and Lydia Chin detective series as well as several stand-alone novels. She has won the the Edgar, Nero, Macavity, Shamus and Anthony awards for Best Novel and the Edgar award for Best Short Story. She is a former Mystery Writers of America National Board member, a current Sisters in Crime National Board member, and President of the Private Eye Writers of America. In January 2003 she was an invited speaker at the Annual Meeting of the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. In February 2005 she will be Guest of Honor at the Left Coast Crime convention in El Paso, Texas. A former architect in a practice that focussed on police stations, firehouses, and zoos, SJ Rozan was born and raised in the Bronx. She currently lives in Greenwich Village, New York. (from the author's website)"
S.J. Rozan has a B.A. from Oberlin College and M.Arch from SUNY/Buffalo
S.J. Rozan has a B.A. from Oberlin College and M.Arch from SUNY/Buffalo
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 121 reviews
January 23, 2021
4 ☆
The Art of Violence is a return to the illusory and high-stakes art world of New York City. Although this is the 13th installment for the private investigator duo of Lydia Chin and Bill Smith, the mystery is very much a standalone. And this time, it's Smith's case and thus his tale to tell.
As Smith returns to his apartment, he senses a presence lurking in the misty evening. After disarming the visitor, he recognizes him as Sam Tabor, a convicted killer and former client from six years ago.
Sam has had a dramatic change of circumstances within the past year. His artistic skills were discovered during his imprisonment. The VIPs of the artistic community organized and managed not only to have him freed but launched his career, lauding his "horrifying genius." Smith had visited his gallery show but was not impressed.
Rozan's mysteries are heavily colored by the noir genre. At first glance, Smith fits the archetype of the jaded, macho PI with his own code of ethics which just manages to play within the police's boundaries. But Smith is more nuanced as he is also a pianist who appreciates art. His partnership and now romantic relationship with Lydia keeps him grounded and out of the lone ranger trope. Of course, there's wisecracking (sometimes corny) and also malfeasance and gender clashes within the NYPD as the lead detective is a woman, Angela Grimaldi.
The Art of Violence initially captured my interest with its premise of immediately presenting the killer. I have read this entire series and I was happy to go along the ride with Bill and Lydia. There's plenty of violence with the gruesome activity taking place offstage (which is how Rozan usually writes). Even so, it was less gritty than the previous books from Smith's perspective, and I believe it's because Bill is happy, which is a new development. This is not a criticism, just an observation. I was glad to see Lydia's mother, however briefly, because she offers comic relief. The mystery surprised me, pleasantly so, as Rozan had misdirected quite a bit.
The Art of Violence is a return to the illusory and high-stakes art world of New York City. Although this is the 13th installment for the private investigator duo of Lydia Chin and Bill Smith, the mystery is very much a standalone. And this time, it's Smith's case and thus his tale to tell.
The slanting whiteness of the light, the thin freshness of the day, dazzled me. ... This unsullied light, this bright vision, they're beautiful, but they're false. They paint over the truth. They promise something they can't deliver. It's not until the day gets older, wearier, that it stops making the effort to lie.
As Smith returns to his apartment, he senses a presence lurking in the misty evening. After disarming the visitor, he recognizes him as Sam Tabor, a convicted killer and former client from six years ago.
Skinny and pale; jittery hands; eyes that looked everywhere but into yours. ... Abruptly, Sam met my eyes. As always on the rare occasions when he did that, his were unnervingly clear and sharp. "... but the point, like you say, the point is I really am out of my mind. The thing about temporary insanity is, it's temporary. They let you out when you get sane. Which I will never be, never, never, Smith, never!"
Sam has had a dramatic change of circumstances within the past year. His artistic skills were discovered during his imprisonment. The VIPs of the artistic community organized and managed not only to have him freed but launched his career, lauding his "horrifying genius." Smith had visited his gallery show but was not impressed.
"I knew you wouldn't like my work. I just asked to make sure you still wouldn't lie to me. ... There's a serial killer in New York."I was intrigued by this twist. Rozan hadn't written from Smith's perspective since On the Line, #10 in this series and published in 2010. As I had included in my review for Paper Son, from a 2011 Publishers Weekly interview -
Without heat, I said, "... whatever the news said, the cops won't call it a serial killer at two, even if they're sure this two were the same guy. ... Why are we talking about this?"
"Because it's me."
Rozan finds it easier to write as Chin, whom she characterizes as faster moving and more upbeat, even though she describes Chin—who still thinks that she can change the world—as more like herself as she used to be. By contrast, it’s Smith, a darker figure given weightier issues to deal with, who often has only bad options to choose from, who is more like Rozan as she views herself to be now.
Rozan's mysteries are heavily colored by the noir genre. At first glance, Smith fits the archetype of the jaded, macho PI with his own code of ethics which just manages to play within the police's boundaries. But Smith is more nuanced as he is also a pianist who appreciates art. His partnership and now romantic relationship with Lydia keeps him grounded and out of the lone ranger trope. Of course, there's wisecracking (sometimes corny) and also malfeasance and gender clashes within the NYPD as the lead detective is a woman, Angela Grimaldi.
The Art of Violence initially captured my interest with its premise of immediately presenting the killer. I have read this entire series and I was happy to go along the ride with Bill and Lydia. There's plenty of violence with the gruesome activity taking place offstage (which is how Rozan usually writes). Even so, it was less gritty than the previous books from Smith's perspective, and I believe it's because Bill is happy, which is a new development. This is not a criticism, just an observation. I was glad to see Lydia's mother, however briefly, because she offers comic relief. The mystery surprised me, pleasantly so, as Rozan had misdirected quite a bit.
November 20, 2020
One of the best in a classic PI series. Hard to put down, with a satisfying turn which (like all good plot twists) feels obvious only in retrospect. The rare murder mystery where every character gets the ending they deserve. Stay up all night and finish it in one sitting (as I basically did).
December 1, 2020
SJ Rozan tackles two difficult topics in her most recent Lydia Chin/Bill Smith entry, The Art of Violence. The first, as might be guessed from the book’s title, is the nature of art – or maybe the nature of Art, *with* the capital letter. And the second is mental disability/illness. Rozan treats both subjects with a deft hand, while also delivering an absorbing mystery. I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
The plot revolves around one of Bill Smith’s prior clients, Sam Tabor, who has a difficult time dealing with the “real” world. As Smith says, Sam has had “a raft of different diagnoses – OCD, AD/HD, Asperger’s”, and has problems with alcohol blackouts as well. Sam has spent time in prison, having killed a girl while blacked out under the influence of drugs that someone gave him without his knowledge. At that time, Sam chose to plead guilty and go to prison rather than be committed to a mental institution.
Now, however, Sam is out on parole, thanks to the efforts of some art world heavy-hitters who are fascinated with his dark, violent paintings. Or, if not fascinated, at least they think can market him and sell his paintings. But women’s bodies seem to be piling up around Sam, and he wants to hire Bill to prove that he is the killer and should be back in prison. Whew! That’s the background, and out of this, Rozan weaves a compelling tale. I couldn’t put it down, and ended up reading it in only two sittings.
I don’t give five stars to many books, maybe one in thirty or forty that I read, but The Art of Violence was worth every star. For full disclosure, this series was one of my favorites in the 1990s and 2000s, and I’ve been quite happy that Rozan returned to these characters, after a long hiatus, in the late 2010s. And I am thankful to Pegasus Books/Edelweiss, who provided me with an advance reading copy to review.
The plot revolves around one of Bill Smith’s prior clients, Sam Tabor, who has a difficult time dealing with the “real” world. As Smith says, Sam has had “a raft of different diagnoses – OCD, AD/HD, Asperger’s”, and has problems with alcohol blackouts as well. Sam has spent time in prison, having killed a girl while blacked out under the influence of drugs that someone gave him without his knowledge. At that time, Sam chose to plead guilty and go to prison rather than be committed to a mental institution.
Now, however, Sam is out on parole, thanks to the efforts of some art world heavy-hitters who are fascinated with his dark, violent paintings. Or, if not fascinated, at least they think can market him and sell his paintings. But women’s bodies seem to be piling up around Sam, and he wants to hire Bill to prove that he is the killer and should be back in prison. Whew! That’s the background, and out of this, Rozan weaves a compelling tale. I couldn’t put it down, and ended up reading it in only two sittings.
I don’t give five stars to many books, maybe one in thirty or forty that I read, but The Art of Violence was worth every star. For full disclosure, this series was one of my favorites in the 1990s and 2000s, and I’ve been quite happy that Rozan returned to these characters, after a long hiatus, in the late 2010s. And I am thankful to Pegasus Books/Edelweiss, who provided me with an advance reading copy to review.
May 23, 2022
Sam Tabor had killed a woman, Amy Evans. He was at a party. People spiked the punch with PCP. Many people who drank the punch immediately had problems; two of them were hospitalized with hallucinations. Tabor, a man with no history of violence, stabbed Evans repeatedly. There was evidently no question that he was the one who killed her. He had accepted a plea deal and been sentenced to a fifteen-years-to-life term.
While he was in prison, Tabor, who had always painted but never showed his work to anyone but family members, was acclaimed as "a thrilling genius of an outsider artist, a man with a unique, electrifying vision." Tabor's family and members of the art world successfully convinced a parole board to release him after just a few years. Now Tabor is out and famous; he is also an obsessive-compulsive blackout drunk. His paintings all portray violence.
Now two young women have been murdered, both similar in physical appearance to Amy Evans, both stabbed to death. Tabor is convinced that he killed them, although he has no memory of doing so. He needs to know, and if he is the killer, he wants to be sent back to prison, where he can not murder other women. He hires a New York City private investigator, Bill Smith, whom he knew from the Evans killing, wanting to know if he has become a serial killer.
In the course of the story, two more people are murdered and an earlier murder may possibly be related as well. Smith does not believe that Tabor is the killer; initially, neither does the police officer in charge of the case. However, there are hairs found in connection with one of the deaths that definitely came from Tabor.
And now, a serious spoiler alert. I will be revealing all the surprising developments, so a reader who does not want to know this information should skip the spoiler material:
Bill Smith has a partner throughout this series, Lydia Chin, a Chinese-American woman, younger than Smith but equally expert at detection. In the previous volume in the series, Paper Son, the two detectives' constant flirting in the earlier books finally becomes an actual romance. In this thirteenth novel in the series, they are lovers, but their relationship is otherwise much the same as in the earlier volumes. They still joke together and always trust each other totally. I somewhat miss the flirting, but having that go on for years became increasingly improbable.
The series alternates between having Smith or Chin as the narrator. This book is narrated by Smith, with Chin playing a lesser role. (Having almost everyone in the book other than Ms. Chin address Bill Smith as just "Smith," rather than "Mr. Smith" or "Bill," seems odd to me.)
By the way, one indication that this story is set in New York City is that Lydia Chin refers to a female officer as "a mensch," Yiddish for "a person of integrity and honor"; I might be mistaken, but I doubt that it is a word much used in, say, Topeka.
Two out of the last three books in the series deal with art and artists, The Art of Violence and Ghost Hero. Ms. Rozan writes convincingly on the subject (at least to someone like me, with no background in the New York City art world). I do not know if the type of violence-soaked painting that Tabor does would really be so popular, or if there is some actual painter on whose work Rozan is basing Tabor's art. I suspect that another character, a photographer whose work largely concentrates on violence and death, may be inspired by the New York street photographer known as Weegee; I might easily be mistaken, however.
Generally I have felt that the characterizations in the series are effective, but less so this time. Just about the only likeable people in the book are Smith, Chin, Chin's mother (usually portrayed as a virulent racist), and the female police officer. I have no idea what an obsessive-compulsive alcoholic artist, devoted to painting works depicting violence, formerly confined at different times in an asylum and in a prison, with the attention span of a mayfly, would be like, but I never found him believable, nor did I accept his brother and sister-in-law or most of his other acquaintances.
All my cavils notwithstanding, I did enjoy much of the book. I do not think that this is a bad book, but I did find it a disappointing one.
While he was in prison, Tabor, who had always painted but never showed his work to anyone but family members, was acclaimed as "a thrilling genius of an outsider artist, a man with a unique, electrifying vision." Tabor's family and members of the art world successfully convinced a parole board to release him after just a few years. Now Tabor is out and famous; he is also an obsessive-compulsive blackout drunk. His paintings all portray violence.
Now two young women have been murdered, both similar in physical appearance to Amy Evans, both stabbed to death. Tabor is convinced that he killed them, although he has no memory of doing so. He needs to know, and if he is the killer, he wants to be sent back to prison, where he can not murder other women. He hires a New York City private investigator, Bill Smith, whom he knew from the Evans killing, wanting to know if he has become a serial killer.
In the course of the story, two more people are murdered and an earlier murder may possibly be related as well. Smith does not believe that Tabor is the killer; initially, neither does the police officer in charge of the case. However, there are hairs found in connection with one of the deaths that definitely came from Tabor.
And now, a serious spoiler alert. I will be revealing all the surprising developments, so a reader who does not want to know this information should skip the spoiler material:
Bill Smith has a partner throughout this series, Lydia Chin, a Chinese-American woman, younger than Smith but equally expert at detection. In the previous volume in the series, Paper Son, the two detectives' constant flirting in the earlier books finally becomes an actual romance. In this thirteenth novel in the series, they are lovers, but their relationship is otherwise much the same as in the earlier volumes. They still joke together and always trust each other totally. I somewhat miss the flirting, but having that go on for years became increasingly improbable.
The series alternates between having Smith or Chin as the narrator. This book is narrated by Smith, with Chin playing a lesser role. (Having almost everyone in the book other than Ms. Chin address Bill Smith as just "Smith," rather than "Mr. Smith" or "Bill," seems odd to me.)
By the way, one indication that this story is set in New York City is that Lydia Chin refers to a female officer as "a mensch," Yiddish for "a person of integrity and honor"; I might be mistaken, but I doubt that it is a word much used in, say, Topeka.
Two out of the last three books in the series deal with art and artists, The Art of Violence and Ghost Hero. Ms. Rozan writes convincingly on the subject (at least to someone like me, with no background in the New York City art world). I do not know if the type of violence-soaked painting that Tabor does would really be so popular, or if there is some actual painter on whose work Rozan is basing Tabor's art. I suspect that another character, a photographer whose work largely concentrates on violence and death, may be inspired by the New York street photographer known as Weegee; I might easily be mistaken, however.
Generally I have felt that the characterizations in the series are effective, but less so this time. Just about the only likeable people in the book are Smith, Chin, Chin's mother (usually portrayed as a virulent racist), and the female police officer. I have no idea what an obsessive-compulsive alcoholic artist, devoted to painting works depicting violence, formerly confined at different times in an asylum and in a prison, with the attention span of a mayfly, would be like, but I never found him believable, nor did I accept his brother and sister-in-law or most of his other acquaintances.
All my cavils notwithstanding, I did enjoy much of the book. I do not think that this is a bad book, but I did find it a disappointing one.
January 30, 2021
A serial killer targets women in the New York art scene in S.J. Rozan’s engrossing 13th mystery, “The Art of Violence.”
Rozan alternates her two main character’s points of view in past novels, but it is Bill Smith who tells the compelling, gritty story from his no-nonsense perspective.
At the start of the novel, Bill is awakened by his former client, Sam Tabor, who convinces Bill that he has killed another woman. However, Sam cannot remember his activities that night. Struggling with OCD and the memories of a five-year murder stint, Sam is troubled with thoughts that he may be responsible for another string of murders.
Encouraging Bill to get involved in the case puts the intrepid private investigator and his partner Lydia Chin in difficult, life-threatening situations. When Bill approaches NYPD Detective Angela Grimaldi, she thinks Sam is a lost cause and a tad crazy. Without his comrade’s support, Bill sets out on his own to learn what happened to Sam Tabor the night Sam called him at his apartment.
A tricky cat-and-mouse game with dialogue reminiscent of the late Robert B. Parker’s, “The Art of Violence” is a sturdy, adrenaline high mystery. It is page-turning in its pulse-pounding complexities as Rozan captures the New York scene like a work of art. Her descriptions and intricate tapestry peopled with color and charm make this a wicked good read.
Rozan alternates her two main character’s points of view in past novels, but it is Bill Smith who tells the compelling, gritty story from his no-nonsense perspective.
At the start of the novel, Bill is awakened by his former client, Sam Tabor, who convinces Bill that he has killed another woman. However, Sam cannot remember his activities that night. Struggling with OCD and the memories of a five-year murder stint, Sam is troubled with thoughts that he may be responsible for another string of murders.
Encouraging Bill to get involved in the case puts the intrepid private investigator and his partner Lydia Chin in difficult, life-threatening situations. When Bill approaches NYPD Detective Angela Grimaldi, she thinks Sam is a lost cause and a tad crazy. Without his comrade’s support, Bill sets out on his own to learn what happened to Sam Tabor the night Sam called him at his apartment.
A tricky cat-and-mouse game with dialogue reminiscent of the late Robert B. Parker’s, “The Art of Violence” is a sturdy, adrenaline high mystery. It is page-turning in its pulse-pounding complexities as Rozan captures the New York scene like a work of art. Her descriptions and intricate tapestry peopled with color and charm make this a wicked good read.
December 11, 2020
Only marginally better than the last Smith/Chin book, Paper Son. This time there are a series of murders that Smith's client, Sam, believes he is guilty of. The book runs through an investigation of the murders. There are a lot of things not to like here - it's intensely slow moving. There is a strong focus on alcohol consumption from various characters. This is really a Smith book - Lydia plays but a small supporting role. Another subpar outing in this series.
May 4, 2021
First Sentence: Shifting colors on a monster billboard bled through the April evening mist, showed me a shadow in the alley.
Chronic alcoholic Sam Tabor has mental health disorders and experiences blackouts, except when he paints. After being convicted of murdering a woman and serving five years in prison, art lovers arrange for Sam's release. Now, two new women have been murdered and, because of the means of their deaths, Sam fears he is the killer. As a former client of investigator Bill Smith, Sam wants either to be proven guilty of the murders, or absolutely convinced of his innocence.
A first line, both evocative and threatening, immediately draws one into an unusual premise. Rozan is a joy to read. Her writing is thoughtful and literary with passages of text—"By now, it was half past eight. … All traces of last night's mist had burned away under the April Sun … This unsullied light, this bright vision, they're beautiful, but they're false … It's not until the day gets older, wearier, that it stops making the effort to lie."--that contrast to her natural, realistic dialogue with touches of wry humor—"'Can I pick the restaurant?' … 'I've heard of it. I don't think I'm cool enough.' 'No, but I am."
Characters drive the story, and Bill and Lydia are wonderful characters. Rozan's books alternate between which character takes the lead, and this is Bill's turn. Bill is interesting in that he's a combination of the Golden Age PI with his cigarettes, a bit of the 70's television PI Banacek with his love of classical music and knowledge of art, but with more contemporary sensibilities in his personal relationship with Lydia and consideration for her mother, as well as his respect for her skills. These elements add dimensions to Bill one might not expect. Lydia plays a secondary role in the story but is still significant to the plot.
Although his mental illness, beyond OCD, isn't defined, Sam is the most intriguing character of them all. The description of Sam's paintings conveys their impact and inspires curiosity but leaves one disquieted. Through him, one sees the absurdity and price of celebrity—"….it had made him famous. He belonged to it now … belonged to didn't mean 'fit in with.' It meant 'was owned by." and those who follow it.
While there is the usual "bad" cop, Rozen counters that with Detective Angela Grimaldi who is tough, thorough, and smart, provides an explanation of the types of serial killers, and who believes in working the evidence to find the killer. And there is Lydia's traditional Chinese mother who is always a delight.
One may suspect the killer quite early on. While this is somewhat disappointing, the quality of Rozan's writing compels one to keep going, and it's worth it. After all, with very clever twists, additional murders, and the age-old, never-resolved question as to what is art, one's suspicions may not be accurate.
"The Art of Violence" could be considered Rozan's pandemic in that it's a bit muddled, and not always easy to keep the characters straight. Even so, it does keep one engaged to the end.
THE ART OF VIOLENCE (PI-Bill Smith/Lydia Chin-New York-Contemp) - Good
Rozan, S. J. – 13th in series
Pegasus Crime, Dec 2020, 352 pp.
Chronic alcoholic Sam Tabor has mental health disorders and experiences blackouts, except when he paints. After being convicted of murdering a woman and serving five years in prison, art lovers arrange for Sam's release. Now, two new women have been murdered and, because of the means of their deaths, Sam fears he is the killer. As a former client of investigator Bill Smith, Sam wants either to be proven guilty of the murders, or absolutely convinced of his innocence.
A first line, both evocative and threatening, immediately draws one into an unusual premise. Rozan is a joy to read. Her writing is thoughtful and literary with passages of text—"By now, it was half past eight. … All traces of last night's mist had burned away under the April Sun … This unsullied light, this bright vision, they're beautiful, but they're false … It's not until the day gets older, wearier, that it stops making the effort to lie."--that contrast to her natural, realistic dialogue with touches of wry humor—"'Can I pick the restaurant?' … 'I've heard of it. I don't think I'm cool enough.' 'No, but I am."
Characters drive the story, and Bill and Lydia are wonderful characters. Rozan's books alternate between which character takes the lead, and this is Bill's turn. Bill is interesting in that he's a combination of the Golden Age PI with his cigarettes, a bit of the 70's television PI Banacek with his love of classical music and knowledge of art, but with more contemporary sensibilities in his personal relationship with Lydia and consideration for her mother, as well as his respect for her skills. These elements add dimensions to Bill one might not expect. Lydia plays a secondary role in the story but is still significant to the plot.
Although his mental illness, beyond OCD, isn't defined, Sam is the most intriguing character of them all. The description of Sam's paintings conveys their impact and inspires curiosity but leaves one disquieted. Through him, one sees the absurdity and price of celebrity—"….it had made him famous. He belonged to it now … belonged to didn't mean 'fit in with.' It meant 'was owned by." and those who follow it.
While there is the usual "bad" cop, Rozen counters that with Detective Angela Grimaldi who is tough, thorough, and smart, provides an explanation of the types of serial killers, and who believes in working the evidence to find the killer. And there is Lydia's traditional Chinese mother who is always a delight.
One may suspect the killer quite early on. While this is somewhat disappointing, the quality of Rozan's writing compels one to keep going, and it's worth it. After all, with very clever twists, additional murders, and the age-old, never-resolved question as to what is art, one's suspicions may not be accurate.
"The Art of Violence" could be considered Rozan's pandemic in that it's a bit muddled, and not always easy to keep the characters straight. Even so, it does keep one engaged to the end.
THE ART OF VIOLENCE (PI-Bill Smith/Lydia Chin-New York-Contemp) - Good
Rozan, S. J. – 13th in series
Pegasus Crime, Dec 2020, 352 pp.
March 8, 2022
A slow and quirky mystery featuring my favorite pair of PIs. As always, the characters and the city shine. In this story, Bill is less of a thug and more of an observer of people. Like Hawk, he is a lot smarter than he looks. And Lydia kicks ass more than he does.
Intriguing and convoluted, the story weaves among the strange people of the art world. Insecurities and anxieties drive them to do strange things. The reveal and resolve are clever, with red herrings everywhere.
There is one aspect that I wish was explored further, but that's on me, not the author.
I'll be reading the next one.
Intriguing and convoluted, the story weaves among the strange people of the art world. Insecurities and anxieties drive them to do strange things. The reveal and resolve are clever, with red herrings everywhere.
There is one aspect that I wish was explored further, but that's on me, not the author.
I'll be reading the next one.
January 13, 2022
Fast-paced clue-gathering as Bill takes the lead in finding a serial killer, aided & supported by Lydia, of course. Not as heavy as Winter and Night--the other story I read from Bill's POV--but still a page-turner. Entertaining!
December 11, 2020
I love Lydia and Bill, but I guess I am over Lydia and Bill books.
May 23, 2021
Really wanted to like the book based on the art/artist and mystery premise. Just couldn’t get intrigued by the plot or attached to the flawed characters.
February 11, 2021
Oh, how happy I am that fictional detectives Lydia Chin and Bill Smith are back in business! Last time I checked, SJ Rozan had co-written a different kind of book involving indigenous legends and had been producing writing seminars in Italy. I do understand that fandom puts a straitjacket on writers and they just need a break, but I sure am grateful that the series came back in good form. Some other mystery writers I know seem to become hostile to fans after trying a new tangent. (Does any mystery lover know what I mean?)
In this novel, Bill Smith takes the lead after a peculiar plea from a newly released murderer (Sam) who has a tendency to get so drunk he can't remember what happened. The twist: he's terrified he might have committed a couple murders since his release and wants Smith to prove he's guilty so he'll be locked up again. Smith pulls in Lydia, and they are off to the races with a complicated plot full of interesting characters and Rozan's familiar New York snark.
Sam went to jail initially because he committed a murder after being unaware there was a hallucinogenic drug in a punch. He remembers nothing. Nowadays, when he blacks out from alcohol, he fears he's dangerous. He's a nervous, artistic guy who's always been considered a bit nuts, and his respectable brother and sister-in-law are at their wits' end with how to manage him.
While in jail, Sam began showing his art to people for the first time -- corrections officers and prisoners who wanted portraits -- and a group of outside art enthusiasts and gallerists learn about his talent and manage to get his sentence reduced.
Sam really hates the art world's attention and is a nervous wreck over recent murders with victims like the girl he killed before. He's desperate to go back where he won't hurt anyone.
Although I guessed the main solution to the puzzle early on, there was plenty of suspense in wondering what the detectives' missteps might cause, and I certainly didn't figure out all the details. Can't wait to read "Paper Son," another Rozan I somehow missed out on.
In this novel, Bill Smith takes the lead after a peculiar plea from a newly released murderer (Sam) who has a tendency to get so drunk he can't remember what happened. The twist: he's terrified he might have committed a couple murders since his release and wants Smith to prove he's guilty so he'll be locked up again. Smith pulls in Lydia, and they are off to the races with a complicated plot full of interesting characters and Rozan's familiar New York snark.
Sam went to jail initially because he committed a murder after being unaware there was a hallucinogenic drug in a punch. He remembers nothing. Nowadays, when he blacks out from alcohol, he fears he's dangerous. He's a nervous, artistic guy who's always been considered a bit nuts, and his respectable brother and sister-in-law are at their wits' end with how to manage him.
While in jail, Sam began showing his art to people for the first time -- corrections officers and prisoners who wanted portraits -- and a group of outside art enthusiasts and gallerists learn about his talent and manage to get his sentence reduced.
Sam really hates the art world's attention and is a nervous wreck over recent murders with victims like the girl he killed before. He's desperate to go back where he won't hurt anyone.
Although I guessed the main solution to the puzzle early on, there was plenty of suspense in wondering what the detectives' missteps might cause, and I certainly didn't figure out all the details. Can't wait to read "Paper Son," another Rozan I somehow missed out on.
January 10, 2021
Long-standing excellent PI series consistently well written with sharply drawn characters. Over the series, Bill Smith and partner, Lydia Chen, have reached a level of understanding and appreciation of each other. Fiercely independent, Lydia is still living at home with her Chinese mother while continuing a work and a more personal relationship with Bill. The themes are large in this latest volume, both the meaning of art and the violence idolized/ memorialized in art, as well as mental illness. In this book, a former client comes to Bill asking for help in proving he is a serial killer. He had killed before, but only when dosed with PCP without his knowledge or consent. Now he's served his time and become the hot new artist, but his fears are overwhelming him. While appreciating the themes, I found getting into this book a little more difficult which is why I downgraded it to 4 stars. Still, it's an amazing book with a crackling good mystery.
January 11, 2021
Several years ago, Sam Tabor hired Bill Smith when he was accused of killing a young woman while high on PCP. Sam is an underground artist who was "discovered" while in prison. Many people in the art world, worked to get him released from prison and now they want him to paint for them. His art fetches big money. Sam hires Bill again to find out if he is a serial killer. Three other women have been killed in similar manners and Sam wants to go back to prison. He like prison; when one is walking the edge of crazytown, prison is a good place with lots of rules and regulations. Bill and Lydia begin to investigate and uncover one woman who was killed before Sam got out of prison, so he is probably not a serial killer, but who is killing young blonde women? Another well-plotted adventure with Bill Smith and Lydia Chin.
July 1, 2021
4.5 rounded up to 5. I love this series, and this was a really great entry in the Lydia Chin/Bill Smith books. My son is artist, although not a “crazy” one—a term tossed about in the book with regularity—and I appreciated the art world in NYC as featured in this story. I am both working on reading the early books and reading with a book group, so I am in an odd space where I just read the first book narrated by Smith and then this latest one in the series also narrated by him. I read this book in a day, and really enjoyed the character of the artist, Sam Tabor. These are books that always delight me in a myriad of ways, and I am grateful I still have many to read. Very highly recommended.
April 30, 2021
(3 1/2). This little book really tickled my fancy. I don’t know if it was the New York City setting that took me back to my youth, the way it sucked me in right from the start, or the good guy confused that he was the bad guy looking for help in a turn around mystery solving equation. Rozan does a great job taking us step by step through the maze, with some fun side characters helping us along. Twists and turns are the driving force here, and it keeps things really interesting. Good stuff.
April 15, 2021
The Lydia/Bill series is a fine read with the interplay between the partners growing and expanding both professionally and personally. These books are quick reads, heaving on good dialogue. This particular entry in the series has some interesting characters, including a man who is determined to prove that he is actually guilty of some horrific crimes. I did not quite buy the rationale behind the killings, but that doesn't mean it wasn't an entertaining read. The tie-in to the world of art is pretty superficial and doesn't really give much insight into that world. But I like Lydia's mom, and she becomes the hero in the last few pages.
March 7, 2022
Not sure how I missed this installment but it allowed for a satisfying read in advance of Family Business, the next Lydia/Bill mystery. Bill is not as dark in this one, with more humorous reflection on events and people. The mystery was excellent and the repartee delightful.This is a beloved series for me so it was a joy to 'find' this book. Highly recommend this and the rest of the series.
November 30, 2020
11/30/2020 V good, worth rush-jobbing. Full review tk at CriminalElement.com.
March 19, 2024
I enjoyed this but was hoping for more art aspects. I good detective story with a surprise ending. Easy to read and well paced.
December 31, 2020
Another good installment in a series I've always enjoyed.
February 1, 2021
2.5 stars. Well I had hoped for a juicy new crime series but this isn’t it. I liked the main/suspect character somewhat, an autistic - like adult and an outsider artist. But the culprit was obvious almost from the start, and the flirty dialogue between the detective partners, paramours, was so awkward, corny, and unsexy as to be embarrassing. I have another of these on my kindle, and I might read it, but likely no more after that.
April 27, 2021
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
---
WHAT'S THE ART OF VIOLENCE ABOUT?
Five years ago, Sam Tabor was sentenced to prison following a homicide. Bill Smith worked for Sam's lawyer during the case, and was convinced Sam should've been put in a treatment center instead of prison—but Sam refused.
Now that he's been "discovered" as an important artist, several agents and arts worked to get him released from prison. That happened a few weeks ago, and now two women have been killed. Sam's convinced that he's the killer, although he doesn't remember killing these women—or even encountering them. He hires BIll to prove that he did commit the murders, so he can be sent back to prison for life where he can't hurt anyone. Bill's skeptical (as is the investigating detective) about Sam's guilt, but takes the case so he can make sure Sam's treated right and that his fears are investigated correctly.
So instead of looking for evidence to exonerate Sam, Bill's looking for things to implicate him (technically, Bill's still looking for ways to exonerate him, too). This is a very strange reason to hire a PI, and I loved this premise.
PI/CLIENT RELATIONS
Most people in Sam's life treat him as two things—a murderer with psychological issues and an artistic genius (with shades of a cash cow). His brother and sister-in-law see him as a burden/obligation as well as a murderer with psychological issues. The police are looking for an excuse to lock him up again, hopefully for forever this time.
Bill Smith (and later, Lydia), on the other hand, treats him as a person. He doesn't dance around Sam's past, but Bill has always figured he'd paid a dearer price for that than warranted. He doesn't want Sam to be railroaded by a vengeful detective or his own guilt. He certainly has no ideas about taking advantage of Sam's wealth, status, or fame. He simply wants to find out what happened to these women.
In this light, Bill reminded me of Elvis Cole with Peter Alan Nelsen and Spenser with the various sports stars he's worked for or Jill Joyce. They're clients first and foremost, people who deserve to be treated right—and being celebrities is so far down the list of things they care about, that it almost doesn't matter. Bill stands in good company there, and something about that way of dealing with a VIP has always appealed to me.
THE ROLE OF ART
Lydia and Bill find themselves involved in a crime involving the art world yet again, I can't think of another detective that spends as much time in this world as these two. Typically, novels focusing on artists, galleries, and so on don't do much for me. But the way this pair brushes up against this world, not only do I not mind, I find it appealing. I can see why Rozan or other authors find this world appealing.
One of Sam's few friends in this particular case is a photographer. As hard as it is to give the flavor or an impression of a painting in prose, it seems more difficult to capture a photograph (aside from saying "it was a photo of X"), and Rozan doesn't spend a lot of time describing individual photographs but she does a great job on the subject and tone of them, instead. I'm pretty glad that there were no pictures included I'm not sure I could've taken it (the novel's title gives a hint about the direction of the photos). A picture may be worth a thousand words, but Rozan doesn't need that many to get the reader to have the reaction she needs.
THE SUBTLE SLOW BURN
Rozan says so little about the non-P. I. relationship between Bill and Lydia, and yet says so much. It's been clear how Bill has felt about Lydia since the first book in the series, but it's been a little harder to read Lydia. And Rozan hasn't been as forthcoming as other mystery novelists when it comes to that sort of thing—and by other, I mean "every other one I can think of." The Lydia/Bill romance arc is definitely a "less is more" kind of thing. Which is pretty much how Lydia would prefer it, I think.
I'd really prefer that she was less circumspect about it, but I really appreciate her approach to it. Which seems like a contradiction, but it's not. If I were calling the shots, we'd get a lot more detail about what's going on between them—and how long that's been the case. That said, the way that Rozan plays with the audience's desires/expectations, and instead just gives the reader hints, winks, and nudges work so well. Not just because it is so clearly what Lydia would like and leaves it all to the reader to piece things together. Yet, there have been developments in the relationship and we learn a lot about it (at least by Ronzan's standards) in this book.
SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT THE ART OF VIOLENCE?
The fact that this is the thirteenth book in the series that I've read, you probably have a pretty good idea of what I was thinking going in—I fully expected to like this one and I did.
First off, it's from Bill's perspective this time, and those usually feel a little different, and we get different details reported than we would have were the shoe on the other foot. I always enjoy the bouncing back and forth between the two narrators. Particularly if the police are involved, Bill has a strange relationship with the police, and it's always good to see.
There's a good puzzle to chew on here*, while watching Bill make a nuisance of himself with the people in Sam's life who are convinced they're far too good to deal with a P.I. Lydia's around to smooth things over a bit, but not enough. It's a dynamic I don't imagine I'll get tired of seeing. The (too few) scenes where it's just Bill and Lydia talking to each other, are again, the highlight of the novel—I've said it before, I'll say it again I don't care what these two are talking about I'll gladly read it. The Art of Violence would make a good jumping-on point to this series (almost all of them would be, come to think of it).
* Okay, I pegged the guilty party pretty early on, but not all the whys and hows involved. This is about the journey Bill and Lydia take to get the answers, more than it is the puzzle. Either way, the book scored pretty high on those).
These are characters you like to see in action, with a client who's more interesting than most of those in a P.I. novel. you get a couple of good surprises out of Lydia's mom, too. There's really a lot to commend this book, as is to be expected from this series. You should give it a try.
---
... he said, “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m not the serial killer type?”
“I don’t know that.”
“I guess in some weird way that’s a compliment.”
“It’s not. Why did you come here, Sam? Anyone else, I might think he was trying to impress me, but not you.”
“I’m not the type?” A sly smile.
“I hope you didn’t come for help leaving town, laying low, something like that. If you killed those women, you know I'm going to have to turn you in.”
“Good luck.”
“I have the guns,” I reminded him.
“You won't need them but they won't help. I already tried it.”
“Tried what?”
“Turning myself in. The detective told me to get lost. She said I wasn't the type.
WHAT'S THE ART OF VIOLENCE ABOUT?
Five years ago, Sam Tabor was sentenced to prison following a homicide. Bill Smith worked for Sam's lawyer during the case, and was convinced Sam should've been put in a treatment center instead of prison—but Sam refused.
Now that he's been "discovered" as an important artist, several agents and arts worked to get him released from prison. That happened a few weeks ago, and now two women have been killed. Sam's convinced that he's the killer, although he doesn't remember killing these women—or even encountering them. He hires BIll to prove that he did commit the murders, so he can be sent back to prison for life where he can't hurt anyone. Bill's skeptical (as is the investigating detective) about Sam's guilt, but takes the case so he can make sure Sam's treated right and that his fears are investigated correctly.
So instead of looking for evidence to exonerate Sam, Bill's looking for things to implicate him (technically, Bill's still looking for ways to exonerate him, too). This is a very strange reason to hire a PI, and I loved this premise.
PI/CLIENT RELATIONS
Most people in Sam's life treat him as two things—a murderer with psychological issues and an artistic genius (with shades of a cash cow). His brother and sister-in-law see him as a burden/obligation as well as a murderer with psychological issues. The police are looking for an excuse to lock him up again, hopefully for forever this time.
Bill Smith (and later, Lydia), on the other hand, treats him as a person. He doesn't dance around Sam's past, but Bill has always figured he'd paid a dearer price for that than warranted. He doesn't want Sam to be railroaded by a vengeful detective or his own guilt. He certainly has no ideas about taking advantage of Sam's wealth, status, or fame. He simply wants to find out what happened to these women.
In this light, Bill reminded me of Elvis Cole with Peter Alan Nelsen and Spenser with the various sports stars he's worked for or Jill Joyce. They're clients first and foremost, people who deserve to be treated right—and being celebrities is so far down the list of things they care about, that it almost doesn't matter. Bill stands in good company there, and something about that way of dealing with a VIP has always appealed to me.
THE ROLE OF ART
Lydia and Bill find themselves involved in a crime involving the art world yet again, I can't think of another detective that spends as much time in this world as these two. Typically, novels focusing on artists, galleries, and so on don't do much for me. But the way this pair brushes up against this world, not only do I not mind, I find it appealing. I can see why Rozan or other authors find this world appealing.
One of Sam's few friends in this particular case is a photographer. As hard as it is to give the flavor or an impression of a painting in prose, it seems more difficult to capture a photograph (aside from saying "it was a photo of X"), and Rozan doesn't spend a lot of time describing individual photographs but she does a great job on the subject and tone of them, instead. I'm pretty glad that there were no pictures included I'm not sure I could've taken it (the novel's title gives a hint about the direction of the photos). A picture may be worth a thousand words, but Rozan doesn't need that many to get the reader to have the reaction she needs.
By now, it was half past eight. Traffic choked the streets, and pedestrians wove complex patterns on the sidewalks. All traces of last night’s mist had burned away under the April sun. The slanting whiteness of the light, the thin freshness of the day, dazzled me.
Lydia's suggested any number of times that I consider changing my ways, getting up earlier, taking this in more often. She thinks it’s laziness and old habs that keep me from it. But she’s wrong. This unsullied light, this bright vision, they're beautiful, but they're false. They paint over the truth. They promise something they can't deliver. It’s not until the day gets older, wearier, that it stops making the effort to lie.
THE SUBTLE SLOW BURN
Rozan says so little about the non-P. I. relationship between Bill and Lydia, and yet says so much. It's been clear how Bill has felt about Lydia since the first book in the series, but it's been a little harder to read Lydia. And Rozan hasn't been as forthcoming as other mystery novelists when it comes to that sort of thing—and by other, I mean "every other one I can think of." The Lydia/Bill romance arc is definitely a "less is more" kind of thing. Which is pretty much how Lydia would prefer it, I think.
I'd really prefer that she was less circumspect about it, but I really appreciate her approach to it. Which seems like a contradiction, but it's not. If I were calling the shots, we'd get a lot more detail about what's going on between them—and how long that's been the case. That said, the way that Rozan plays with the audience's desires/expectations, and instead just gives the reader hints, winks, and nudges work so well. Not just because it is so clearly what Lydia would like and leaves it all to the reader to piece things together. Yet, there have been developments in the relationship and we learn a lot about it (at least by Ronzan's standards) in this book.
Yet again, the angel on my right shoulder told me to call Grimaldi, and the guy on the other side said I’d get more accomplished on my own. The right-side guy wanted to know if this was about getting things accomplished, or if it was personal. The left-side guy told him to guess.
SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT THE ART OF VIOLENCE?
The fact that this is the thirteenth book in the series that I've read, you probably have a pretty good idea of what I was thinking going in—I fully expected to like this one and I did.
First off, it's from Bill's perspective this time, and those usually feel a little different, and we get different details reported than we would have were the shoe on the other foot. I always enjoy the bouncing back and forth between the two narrators. Particularly if the police are involved, Bill has a strange relationship with the police, and it's always good to see.
There's a good puzzle to chew on here*, while watching Bill make a nuisance of himself with the people in Sam's life who are convinced they're far too good to deal with a P.I. Lydia's around to smooth things over a bit, but not enough. It's a dynamic I don't imagine I'll get tired of seeing. The (too few) scenes where it's just Bill and Lydia talking to each other, are again, the highlight of the novel—I've said it before, I'll say it again I don't care what these two are talking about I'll gladly read it. The Art of Violence would make a good jumping-on point to this series (almost all of them would be, come to think of it).
* Okay, I pegged the guilty party pretty early on, but not all the whys and hows involved. This is about the journey Bill and Lydia take to get the answers, more than it is the puzzle. Either way, the book scored pretty high on those).
These are characters you like to see in action, with a client who's more interesting than most of those in a P.I. novel. you get a couple of good surprises out of Lydia's mom, too. There's really a lot to commend this book, as is to be expected from this series. You should give it a try.
December 26, 2020
I have read all of S. J. Rozan's books and am fond of her Lydia Chin/Bill Smith series, have them all. I have to confess I am fonder of the books where Lydia is the primary instead of Bill but both are acceptable. This was going to be a three star rating. However, the final twists at the end made the fourth star justifiable. A good read.
October 21, 2020
Another wonderful edition to the Lydia Chin/Bill Smith series. So happy to have them back in action after they took a hiatus before last year's "Paper Son" and now "The Art of Violence". Rozan's skill in pacing and storytelling shines yet again.
October 2, 2024
A fun whodunnit with a NYC art world backdrop. Liked the investigators’ bantering.
April 10, 2021
I'll start this review by saying that this was the first Lydia/Bill book I've read, even though it's well into the series. This was one of the books assigned by my mystery book club, and I wanted to be sure I read it by the next meeting so didn't go through the other books in the series first. Because of this, I'm missing a lot of the character building in the series, and I'll try to take this into account.
In this novel, which is in Bill's first-person view, Bill is trying to figure out whether his client Sam is responsible for several murders committed by a serial killer. Sam, a talented artist, has major mental health troubles and drinks to cope, the result being blackouts and lost time. Bill, along with Lydia, need to figure out what actually happened and whether Sam is guilty. It doesn't help that Sam is fresh out of prison for killing someone while high on PCP and doesn't trust a lot of people, although he does trust Bill. Also tangled into the situation are Sam's brother and his wife, Peter and Leslie, Sam's friends Elissa (also an artist) and Tony (a photographer), Sam's art dealer, Sherron, and the police detective on the cases, Grimaldi. Things get complicated quickly as more murders occur and neither Sam nor Bill can account for what Sam was doing during the times the murders occur. Not to mention that there's a decent amount of evidence appearing and disappearing, which makes it even harder for Bill and Lydia (mainly Bill, since Lydia doesn't show up much) to figure out what actually happened.
I may have liked this book better if I had some investment into the characters. I didn't really get a sense of Lydia in this book. For that matter, I didn't get much of a sense of Bill other than he seems like someone who likes to sleep in and isn't afraid to throw his weight around to get things done. Their personalities were more minor details than readily apparent. I was disappointed by this, since these are the two main characters in this series. The only character I really liked was Sam. His reality is so different from the average one, but it's consistent in its own way. I'd love to have a conversation with him. His art is also interesting: seemingly peaceful at a glance but very dark and morbid closer in. I wonder if that's the way he sees the world. He seems very childlike most of the time, but has flashes of wise adult (or maybe wise child) occasionally. I wasn't fond of any of the other characters, but I don't think I was supposed to be.
I did like the resolution of the murders and the discovery of what actually happened. Rozan had a pretty unique resolution of the murders, although I did figure out pieces of it before the reveal section. I just had to fight to get there. The plot didn't really pick up until about halfway through the book. Actually, I should say that my interest wasn't piqued until then. Maybe I would have been interested earlier if I'd read the other books in the series. Also, I've heard that the Lydia-focused books are better than the Bill-focused books, and this was a Bill-focused book. I should read one of the Lydia ones to see if that's correct.
There was a bit of a romance in this book, but it's quite low-key and takes up much less space than the usual romance in mystery stories. Not that it's easy to miss, just that it's background to the main story. I kind of like this, since it seems to be consistent with Bill and Lydia's personalities.
Also, I just loved the interactions between Sam and Lydia's mom. I could read at least a novella on that topic. That was my favorite part of the book.
Two things that made me almost cross enough to quit the book immediately and may have been the reason it took me so long to actually be interested in the book: the behavior of any and all police in the book and almost every characters perceptions about people who were mentally ill. I'd say at least half of the cops need jobs in less people-oriented positions because they are miserably hard-bitten, crusty wretches. Yes, seeing dead people all the time can make you a bit cynical, but once it start coloring how you see the entire world, it's time to change jobs. And I found the general sentiment about people with mental illness being useless and dangerous wackos insulting, offensive, and generally inaccurate. I was trying to figure out what year the novel was supposed to be set in since everyone felt like they were from the 70s or 80s. Except that everyone had cell phones, so it had to be at least 2005 or so. Plus, they were in the middle of NYC, not a tiny rural area, so there's not much of an excuse to not be exposed to at least a little of the effort to educate people about mental illness. On the other hand, I think Sam was well-written and not an incorrect stereotype. Sam kept me reading.
I don't think I'll be reading many books in this series, but as I said, I want to check out the Lydia-focused books to see what they are like. 3/5
In this novel, which is in Bill's first-person view, Bill is trying to figure out whether his client Sam is responsible for several murders committed by a serial killer. Sam, a talented artist, has major mental health troubles and drinks to cope, the result being blackouts and lost time. Bill, along with Lydia, need to figure out what actually happened and whether Sam is guilty. It doesn't help that Sam is fresh out of prison for killing someone while high on PCP and doesn't trust a lot of people, although he does trust Bill. Also tangled into the situation are Sam's brother and his wife, Peter and Leslie, Sam's friends Elissa (also an artist) and Tony (a photographer), Sam's art dealer, Sherron, and the police detective on the cases, Grimaldi. Things get complicated quickly as more murders occur and neither Sam nor Bill can account for what Sam was doing during the times the murders occur. Not to mention that there's a decent amount of evidence appearing and disappearing, which makes it even harder for Bill and Lydia (mainly Bill, since Lydia doesn't show up much) to figure out what actually happened.
I may have liked this book better if I had some investment into the characters. I didn't really get a sense of Lydia in this book. For that matter, I didn't get much of a sense of Bill other than he seems like someone who likes to sleep in and isn't afraid to throw his weight around to get things done. Their personalities were more minor details than readily apparent. I was disappointed by this, since these are the two main characters in this series. The only character I really liked was Sam. His reality is so different from the average one, but it's consistent in its own way. I'd love to have a conversation with him. His art is also interesting: seemingly peaceful at a glance but very dark and morbid closer in. I wonder if that's the way he sees the world. He seems very childlike most of the time, but has flashes of wise adult (or maybe wise child) occasionally. I wasn't fond of any of the other characters, but I don't think I was supposed to be.
I did like the resolution of the murders and the discovery of what actually happened. Rozan had a pretty unique resolution of the murders, although I did figure out pieces of it before the reveal section. I just had to fight to get there. The plot didn't really pick up until about halfway through the book. Actually, I should say that my interest wasn't piqued until then. Maybe I would have been interested earlier if I'd read the other books in the series. Also, I've heard that the Lydia-focused books are better than the Bill-focused books, and this was a Bill-focused book. I should read one of the Lydia ones to see if that's correct.
There was a bit of a romance in this book, but it's quite low-key and takes up much less space than the usual romance in mystery stories. Not that it's easy to miss, just that it's background to the main story. I kind of like this, since it seems to be consistent with Bill and Lydia's personalities.
Also, I just loved the interactions between Sam and Lydia's mom. I could read at least a novella on that topic. That was my favorite part of the book.
Two things that made me almost cross enough to quit the book immediately and may have been the reason it took me so long to actually be interested in the book: the behavior of any and all police in the book and almost every characters perceptions about people who were mentally ill. I'd say at least half of the cops need jobs in less people-oriented positions because they are miserably hard-bitten, crusty wretches. Yes, seeing dead people all the time can make you a bit cynical, but once it start coloring how you see the entire world, it's time to change jobs. And I found the general sentiment about people with mental illness being useless and dangerous wackos insulting, offensive, and generally inaccurate. I was trying to figure out what year the novel was supposed to be set in since everyone felt like they were from the 70s or 80s. Except that everyone had cell phones, so it had to be at least 2005 or so. Plus, they were in the middle of NYC, not a tiny rural area, so there's not much of an excuse to not be exposed to at least a little of the effort to educate people about mental illness. On the other hand, I think Sam was well-written and not an incorrect stereotype. Sam kept me reading.
I don't think I'll be reading many books in this series, but as I said, I want to check out the Lydia-focused books to see what they are like. 3/5
January 19, 2021
I purchased a copy of her newest Lydia Chin/Bill Smith novel entitled, The Art of Violence, and read the first sentence: “Shifting colors on a monster billboard bled through the April evening mist, showed me a shadow in the alley.”
At that instant, I realized the endorsement was honest, accurate and spot-on. Simply put . . . Somebody sign me up. I’m hooked!
The narrator of that awesomely complex and colorful first sentence is the protagonist, a New York City Private Investigator named Bill Smith. The shadow is a man named Sam Tabor. He’s a former client who’s just been released from Greenhaven State Penitentiary, where he was serving time for the stabbing death of a young woman after he was secretly dosed with PCP . . . a hallucinogenic commonly known as ‘Angel Dust.’ But Sam is also a talented, world class outsider artist, whose release from prison was engineered by a consortium of art critics, celebrities, business people and writers, who all want to bring his art into view for the whole world to admire and appreciate . . . then buy and sell for lots of money.
But Sam Tabor, while showing such promise and talent, is also a hard drinker who regularly experiences alcoholic blackouts in times of personal stress; like when his art is being featured in a gallery opening, and he has to interact with crowds of people. He believes that during those blackouts he’s killed other women—and in one of several devious plot twists—he wants to hire Bill Smith to prove it because Tabor wants to go back to prison so that he won’t kill any other women. He thinks he’s a serial killer. A killer who wants no more victims on his conscience . . . and those are only a couple of the ingenious, well crafted and diabolic events and turnarounds in this easy reading, captivating and engrossing novel.
Ms. Rozan’s fiction has been awarded an Edgar, Shamus, Anthony, Nero, Macavity, the Japanese Maltese Falcon and the Private Eye Writers of America Lifetime Achievement Award. You’ll soon see why if you read any of her outstanding novels. The Art of Violence is a great one to start with!
At that instant, I realized the endorsement was honest, accurate and spot-on. Simply put . . . Somebody sign me up. I’m hooked!
The narrator of that awesomely complex and colorful first sentence is the protagonist, a New York City Private Investigator named Bill Smith. The shadow is a man named Sam Tabor. He’s a former client who’s just been released from Greenhaven State Penitentiary, where he was serving time for the stabbing death of a young woman after he was secretly dosed with PCP . . . a hallucinogenic commonly known as ‘Angel Dust.’ But Sam is also a talented, world class outsider artist, whose release from prison was engineered by a consortium of art critics, celebrities, business people and writers, who all want to bring his art into view for the whole world to admire and appreciate . . . then buy and sell for lots of money.
But Sam Tabor, while showing such promise and talent, is also a hard drinker who regularly experiences alcoholic blackouts in times of personal stress; like when his art is being featured in a gallery opening, and he has to interact with crowds of people. He believes that during those blackouts he’s killed other women—and in one of several devious plot twists—he wants to hire Bill Smith to prove it because Tabor wants to go back to prison so that he won’t kill any other women. He thinks he’s a serial killer. A killer who wants no more victims on his conscience . . . and those are only a couple of the ingenious, well crafted and diabolic events and turnarounds in this easy reading, captivating and engrossing novel.
Ms. Rozan’s fiction has been awarded an Edgar, Shamus, Anthony, Nero, Macavity, the Japanese Maltese Falcon and the Private Eye Writers of America Lifetime Achievement Award. You’ll soon see why if you read any of her outstanding novels. The Art of Violence is a great one to start with!
March 2, 2021
A former client of PI Bill Smith has just been released from prison after a five year sentence for murdering a young woman. He is an outsider artist, newly discovered by the glitterati of the art world while in prison. He has OCD, and other mental health issues. Someone had slipped him PCP and he committed the murder while under its influence – it put him into a fugue state and turned him briefly violent. Since then, his always tenuous hold on reality has slipped a few cogs, and he is drinking too much. He is about to have the first major exhibit of his art, and there are headlines about two new murders that bear an uncanny resemblance to the murder that put him in prison. He can’t remember anything about the new murders, but he thinks he may have committed them in spite of no memory, no physical evidence and no witnesses. He hires Smith to try to prove whether he committed them or not. The stressors of fame, his fear of fame, and the possibility of the new murders have made him even more erratic than usual. The publicity of his art, his release and the new crimes have brought out demonstrators to the galley both in support of him and calling for his blood.
The cop assigned to the new murders thinks he is likely not guilty of them. The cop who arrested him for the original murder is sure he is guilty and will plant evidence if need be to justify an arrest.
It is an interesting series of puzzles with a vivid cast of characters. Rozan is supremely able to put her readers into the high end art scene, its rivalries, its eccentricities, high and low notes. Her New York is the next best thing to a week or two in Manhattan.
The cop assigned to the new murders thinks he is likely not guilty of them. The cop who arrested him for the original murder is sure he is guilty and will plant evidence if need be to justify an arrest.
It is an interesting series of puzzles with a vivid cast of characters. Rozan is supremely able to put her readers into the high end art scene, its rivalries, its eccentricities, high and low notes. Her New York is the next best thing to a week or two in Manhattan.
October 13, 2022
This series has been always enjoyable with immersive settings and evocative characters. However, if you are new to the series, don't start with this book even though the premise of the book is unique -- that's hard to do in crime-solving fiction. The premise (not a spoiler) is that a man recently released from prison is worried that he lacks a grasp on reality and thinks he might be a killer. He hires the detective who he remembers from his pre-prison days to prove not that he is innocent, but that he is guilty so he can go back to prison and thus not be a danger to anyone. However, this book is missing something that made the earlier books high-quality detective fiction. It was still an engaging read, but the plot was not as deeply written as earlier books which have always included a lot of social realism and interesting backstories. As well, the secondary characters didn't get as much room and were not as fully fleshed out as earlier books in this series. And now for spoilers....
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Guessing the outcome and how the puzzle will be solved is a big part of the fun of any mystery story. If you can guess too soon, you feel the puzzle was too easy. This was part of the disappointment here even though there was a small twist at the very end of the book. In addition, all the potential villains lacked the nuance that the author usually shows. They had either overly repellant or overly annoying characteristics. Oddly, if this was in the form of film or TV series, actors playing those roles could probably overcome this lack of nuance as the premise of the book is unique, and that's hard to do in crime-solving fiction.
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Guessing the outcome and how the puzzle will be solved is a big part of the fun of any mystery story. If you can guess too soon, you feel the puzzle was too easy. This was part of the disappointment here even though there was a small twist at the very end of the book. In addition, all the potential villains lacked the nuance that the author usually shows. They had either overly repellant or overly annoying characteristics. Oddly, if this was in the form of film or TV series, actors playing those roles could probably overcome this lack of nuance as the premise of the book is unique, and that's hard to do in crime-solving fiction.
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