Arrow's Rest (3)

by Joel Scott

A nautical thriller for readers of Clive Cussler and Jack Higgins. Wooden sailboats shouldn’t play with steel yachts. When his lover’s sister is the latest victim in a series of sadistic assaults, Jared Kane sets out to find the guilty party. His search leads him into a tangled network of sex, power, and religion connecting high political office in the city to a secretive sect in the B.C. wilderness. The crimes seem connected to an exclusive yacht club in Vancouver’s West End, where Jared is able to moor his old wooden sailboat, Arrow, so he can infiltrate the elite. Jared’s friend Danny MacLean has no qualms about fleecing the club’s privileged members and joins Jared in the pursuit. Tracking their quarry on a long chase up through the furthest reaches of the Salish Sea, Arrow and her crew pay a tragic price for resolution in the bleak waters of Desolation Sound.

312 pages, Paperback

Published May 11, 2021

Reviews

[Mortimer · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a hard review. Scott is obviously a talented writer, so I don't feel he quite deserves a 2-star rating, but I just couldn't enjoy it enough for a 3. It would be a great read for anyone who isn't putting much thought into what they're reading and just wants a good story, especially if they love sailboats. Really, really love sailboats.

On that note, at times the details are fascinating, but as someone who has never been privy to a sailor's life, it felt a bit too packed with jargon and irrelevant descriptions...or perhaps that the descriptions were purely for the sake of showing off the author's knowledge. Though it's hard to make that call when you don't actually know what he's writing about.

It should also be noted that this is the third book in a series and, having received it as an ARC, I came in blind. Hitting on a big pet peeve of mine, the promo mentioned nothing of the other books and the book cover/insides show no indication of it being part of a trilogy. It could be the case that in the first two books Scott is a bit more "newbie-friendly" and that a lot of the sailing details would make more sense to the reader by the third book.

Now, for the bigger issues: the content and plot(s) were slightly problematic. Sometimes they became so problematic for the simple fact that they were so conspicuously trying not to be. Additionally, there was something strange and ineffective going on with the narrative voice throughout the novel, which was both distracting and detrimental on numerous levels.

Notwithstanding the usual legal warning on the copyright page that the book is purely fiction, it begins with a Prologue set in "Plentiful", which is clearly referencing the polygamist, fundamentalist, religious commune of Bountiful, B.C. The point of view given is that of a cultish leader and serious pedophile.

What is most disturbing, however, is that it doesn't take the character's viewpoint, per se, but merges it with that of the omniscient narrator, which effectively takes on the 'voice' of the main man in the scene. It has the unsettling effect of making one feel that the story-teller is a person of similar character to the pedophile (which, depending on how you personally read, may place this onto a fictional narrator, the actual author, or even yourself). Since this is the first scene, it taints the narrator immediately and/or puts the reader in a very strange position.

Though I'm sure it must happen frequently, I can honestly say that I don't recall ever noticing this type of narration in other novels. So, it could be me or it could be that Scott is doing something slightly different which is resulting in this effect. Whatever the case, in this book, the inability to distinguish between the narrator and the subject's voice makes for a very strange read.

Immediately after the (female-focused) pedophilic prologue, Chapter 1 launches straight into an unrelated brutal rape of a woman. Was Scott trying to alienate a large demographic of readers within the first 3 pages? I don't know, but I am sure that he has succeeded, nevertheless.

The writing is technically in the third person again, but the narration is more or less in the rapist's own words, and then suddenly the woman's. It occurs to me that Scott might benefit from incorporating italicized thought-dialogue, or some such technique, which can differentiate between the voice or stance of the omniscient narrator and the thoughts of the characters, or at the very least least serve as a sort of transition between perspectives.

The book continues on in this way, so that the reader is constantly thrown into the various minds of the characters, and it can become a bit jarring, alternating between sociopaths and do-gooders in short succession. We never get the chance to settle into a good groove.

The misogyny that is evident from the very first page just doesn't go away, and a lot more related issues are piled on top as the story progresses. It is clear that women are no more than props to move the story along.

The most agency given to a female in the entire book is a scene with an Indigenous grandmother, Annie. She gets to stab her kidnapper in the neck with her hairpin, which could have been a good moment, but it was tempered because the kill was essentially taken away from her: the author has her husband (who has come to rescue her) immediately appear and deal a new fatal blow (concrete block to the back of the head).

To add insult to injury, she doesn't get to stay in the action. After arsonists hit their home, Joseph (husband) is presumed dead and Annie is incapacitated for the rest of the book, relegated to play the role of seer from a hospital bed, insisting to their incredulous family and friends that he is still alive. Indeed, while she is cut out of the picture, Joseph is later "miraculously" revealed to be alive and well, and plays a major role in the final culmination of events.

Likewise, the lead female character, Cat, is painted as a strong, intelligent woman, but in the end she is foolish and naïve enough to go straight to the villain and need to be rescued, another damsel in distress cliché.

The secondary character Merlynn (an ex-lawyer who hosts the groups 'detective parties' on her boat and helps the men along in the case) also ends up in a relationship with the lead cop, but is she allowed any real agency or involvement in the end? No. She is very conveniently called away at the key moment because she has to go take care of her grandchildren (like a good woman should) and ever-so-graciously leaves her boat in the hands of the cop, to use to rescue his friends and wrap up the case. And if that weren't bad enough, the author actually has someone take her place on the boat. Who, you ask? Why, a rich man in a wheelchair and his body guard, of course...because someone who is half paralyzed is so much less of a liability on the open water and is much more preferable over the insufferable hindrance of having a woman on board her own boat for the final scenes.

Speaking of bodyguards... the other secondary female character in the book is a 19-year-old fashion model from New Zealand, Sally. She is specifically noted for her adolescent appearance, evidently to the point where she has to be followed by a bodyguard 24/7. The author attempts to offset this exotic jailbait-looking beauty by giving her a rough sailor's personality (both in speech and skill level). But why create the whole underage model backdrop in the first place? At the very most, it's supposed to be an example of a feminist-leaning "don't judge a book by its cover", but it is just as likely to be a thinly-veiled attempt to include another element of some sort of forbidden 'eye candy' without facing repercussions or, indeed, because Scott knows that some will find the combination of a model who looks underage but acts tough to be even more attractive.

This brings me to the last two females. Oddly, the female character with the second-most agency in the book is the boat, Arrow. Much like Annie, Arrow is allowed a bit of action, getting in a good assist or two, but 'she' is ultimately and utterly wrecked and left behind while they go on to complete their quest.

Then, the hallucinatory end of the villain. Albright ends up washed ashore, severely injured (but he feels no pain) and mentally deranged. After a long trek through the wilderness, in an increasingly psychotic nazi-viking delusion, he stumbles upon a German tourist who is watching a bunch of bears, and hallucinates that she is Brunhilde, a "true, big-breasted blue-eyed Aryan blonde with long pigtails streaming down her back. He promptly squeezes her breasts, knocks out her 'dwarf' companion, and is ready to 'mate' when he gets distracted by some ravens and goes off chasing his eventual doom. (These chapters covering the last acts and demise of Albright are an amusing read, if only for the fact that it's pleasing to see Albright going to hell in such an extreme way...and the surreal departure from the rest of the book is something of an unexpected and welcome break.) But the reason I bring up this last example of woman is that, just like Albright uses the woman to fulfill his delusion, it shows how Scott also uses women as props within his storyline.

None of Scott's female characters are actually given equal footing and all of the other minorities or disadvantaged groups are basically in similar positions.

All three homosexual characters in the book are bad guys. The twins are sadists who rape the other gay character, who murders people for his boss and lives on a colourful tugboat named Rainbow and is literally referred to as "Queer Bill" (which is probably a reference to Buffalo Bill, in the same fashion as "Plentiful" vs. Bountiful).

The rich man in the wheelchair, Ivery, was a rather 'gray' character ethically, an ex-drug addict who would do things like have his man break someone's kneecaps, but at the end of the story thought it was his job to rat out/catch a serial rapist. Also another not-so-subtle wordplay (Ivery lives in a tower, har har).

Scott does things like making our introduction to the main Indigenous character, Danny, at a bar. And later, he write that he is slugging back two drinks for every one the main white character does, like it's nothing, but tries to mollify it by saying "Drink never affected him the way it did most people." No subtlety at all. It just made me think: If you actually want to counter the "drunken Indian" stereotype, how about just not having the character drink heavily in the first place? It's the same sort of feeling of suspicion that arose when reading about Sally, and numerous other people/scenes throughout the book. He kind of has a tendency to have his characters say something that would only be 'acceptable' for them to joke about, which, you think, okay, but then you realize that it's actually a white person, or a man, etc. who is writing the book, so, does it really count? Should we do that? I don't know.

Beyond the Indigenous family, to my recollection, there were no other people of colour.

I feel like I've spent more time than I wished in both reading and reviewing this book, so I'm going to end with this statement: I usually hoard books, but I'm going to be putting this book in a Free Little Library. I don't think it's going to become anyone's favourite book, but it could be a lot worse.

This review was written based on the Advance Reading Copy from the publisher.

[Carolyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received an advance copy of this book from ECW, Thanks

This is a good, quick read. Nothing heavy or intellectually challenging. Several events happen throughout the book connecting the characters, some are connected better than others.
Jared's grandmother passes away and leaves him her property in rural British Columbia. Jared wasn't expecting this since his grandfather had promised it to a religious/political cult that he had been heavily involved with. This puts Jared on the cults radar. Jump to Vancouver where there have been several vicious attacks on women, where the assailant is taunting the police, by leaving the women where they can be easily found. The sister of Jared's girlfriend, is the latest victim. This draws Jared into the investigation joining forces with Detective Clarke, the detective who arrested him years ago and later befriended him, and his best friend Danny MacLean, a member of the Haida tribe. As they untangle the threads, it seems that some of the players must be part of the cult, and somehow players are based at a yacht club. Jared, the owner of an antique sailboat, is able to use this connect to get a foot into the club.
There is a lot of action.

[Larry Epp · Rating 4 out of 5]

2nd in the Jared Kane and The Arrow. Jared and friends sort through the tangle of trouble following his lover's sister's rape. Lots of action, not as much sailing as in the first book except for the chase scene ending the story.

[Donna · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book skipped all over the place.