Last Dance - Let’s hope it’s not
By Jeffrey Fleishman
A review by Scott Wade
World traveling journalist Jeffrey Fleishman’s Last Dance puts us in modern day Los Angeles the way Hemingway’s words transported us into Pamplona when The Sun Also Rises came out in 1926.
Ernest Hemingway was only 26 years old when he wrote The Sun Also Rises in 1925. It was a story that involved a handful of well drawn characters, absent context of world affairs, as opposed to Farewell to Arms, which took us inside the Spanish Civil War. By contrast, Fleishman had already traveled the world, with posts for the Philadelphia Inquirer and LA Times in Rome, Berlin and Cairo, not to mention covering wars in Iraq, Libya and Kosovo, by the time he started Last Dance, the second in the Sam Carver detective series.
Fleishman’s tale takes us inside a world of Russian intrigue when a Moscow born Ballerina is murdered in her Los Angeles loft, then her body abducted. The context around Carver is a California on fire and much of the world feeling burned that Russian spies might have hacked the American presidential election, placing a “spoiled orange king-baby” in the White House. Was there a connection? Did the Ballerina know too much?
Protagonist Sam Carver, a modern version of noir detective Sam Spade, is compelling and Fleishman’s tightly written dialogue is something like Bogart’s crisp, tight-lipped quips in the screen version of author Dashiell Hammett's 1930 novel The Maltese Falcon. But a squinted glance at most pages of clipped dialogue in Last Dance may make any reader imagine they were reading a page from a Hemingway novel.
But there is a difference. Though Fleishman’s sleuth Carver may have the intuition and acumen of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot or even Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin, the inspiration for Doyle’s Sherlock, this book takes us around the world like Dan Brown’s Langdon bouncing from Florence to the Louvre. But I like Fleishman’s world because it takes us to places we’ve never been, more like travel writer Paul Thoreux taking us into villages in Malawi in his Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Capetown.
It’s not surprising that Carver ends up in a medical clinic outside of Juba in the new country South Sudan; he’s been there, literally. Fleishman was a reporter at the Allentown Morning Call about 20 feet from my own desk in that newsroom in the late 80s when he told me one day, “I want to be a foreign correspondent. I want to cover wars.” Thirty years later, he has not only been in the most dangerous places in the world as a journalist, but he’s actually been to places such as those in the book, including Tunis on the south Mediterranean coast. He took time to hone his skills as a Neiman fellow at Harvard. The characters he creates include survivors of the Bosnian war, which he should know about, a sizzling razors in honey female counterpart named Lily Hernandez, as tough of Indiana Jones’ Marion Ravenwood in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Russian spies, an reliable step ahead Iranian lesbian intelligence officer, and a cast of Hollywood persona, the kind of people Fleishman likely encountered as the Times’ senior writer for film, art and culture before becoming the newspaper’s foreign and national editor last April.
Writing is where the real separation begins, Fleishman’s mind-altering prose. It’s no wonder he earned the distinction of being a Pulitzer finalist for his telling of how Tibetan buddhist monks escaped through the Himalayas. While the style may conjure the work of other writers, the writing is uniquely Fleishman. The dead ballerina, in the book’s first sentence, “lies pale and light as shaved ice.” Later, when Carver looks out over Ventura wildfires, he feels a “glimmer of something sacred, reminding me of candles burning against stained glass." The magic doesn’t end until the book’s final horrifying prophetic final two words.
I asked Fleishman about his writing. He wrote back: “As for the imagery, I think a lot of it comes from years as a journalist sucking up details and trying to write them in a unique way with a distinct voice. Some phrases come to me as soon as I see them. Others, I suppose, slip into subconsciousness until I’m writing and then they appear, often needing a lot of polishing and reworking.”
Reading the result is a pleasure and a journey worth taking. Now we wait to see if Carver’s ghosts revealed in Book 2 will take us in the world in Book 3. Can’t wait. Sir, may we have another?