What do you think?
Rate this book
Bringing Out the Dead
Frank Pierce has given CPR on dance floors. He's seen an 11-year-old boy shot off his bicycle and brought a bartender back to life on top of his own bar while Irish music played. Frank is an EMS medic in New York's Hell's Kitchen, a profession that subjects him to endless, careening nights tending to the city's most desperate and neglected patients, but has him hooked on the addictive thrill of saving lives. Increasingly, it seems to be Frank who needs saving.
Abandoned by his wife, haunted by the ghost of the girl he helped kill and the protracted agony of a man he should have let die, Frank Pierce is an authentically wounded hero. In his riveting first novel, Joe Connelly, himself a New York City medic, straps us into Frank's ambulance and stomps down on the gas. And Bringing Out the Dead is a work of gripping verisimilitude and breakneck speed.
Abandoned by his wife, haunted by the ghost of the girl he helped kill and the protracted agony of a man he should have let die, Frank Pierce is an authentically wounded hero. In his riveting first novel, Joe Connelly, himself a New York City medic, straps us into Frank's ambulance and stomps down on the gas. And Bringing Out the Dead is a work of gripping verisimilitude and breakneck speed.
322 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1998
83 people are currently reading
1470 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 161 reviews
April 12, 2017
Damn. This book is intense. Bringing Out the Dead is a non-stop ride through the darkness and horror of being a night-shift paramedic in 1990s New York. Much like the job itself, this story rarely lets up the pressure, only occasionally stopping for a coffee before roaring off at suicidal speed to the next shooting, the next stabbing, the next asthmatic dying on Manhattan dancefloor. You'll feel the speed as ambulances scream along narrow streets, snapping off wing mirrors, and you'll feel the tension as paramedics desperately try to staunch the bleeding of a gunshot victim. I can see why Scorcese snapped this book up and made it into a movie.
Frank Pierce, the narrator of the novel, is a study in burnout, the pressures of being a paramedic having driven him close to insanity. He is barely hanging on to a job he desperately wants to leave, has lost his wife, and is fighting a losing battle with alcoholism, finishing his shifts getting obliterated in an Irish dive bar.
Frank's story reminded me of all the burnt-out cop storylines so popular in 80s movies and TV shows, with the difference that it is empathy that has burnt him out, rather than his hatred of 'perps' or the 'corrupt system' or some other cliche. His despair is driven by the ghosts of all the people who he has been unable to save, their specters waiting on every street corner, reminding him of his failures. he is particularly traumatized by an asthmatic he couldn't save, a young girl in a yellow raincoat named Rose. With every yellow raincoat that passes him on the street he sees Rose again, reliving his failure to save her.
Frank is wrestling with his future, desperate to leave his job but hoping for one redemptive patient, a chance to save a life and leave on the high that only rescuing someone from the claws of death can deliver. He seeks this redemption on the mean night streets of NY, working with succession of crazy, burnt-out and sometimes just plain bad partners, gunning ambulances through red lights and cheating death at crazy speeds, getting in fights, drinking himself into a stupor and quixotically trying to help the family of a now brain-dead man whom he revived.
There's not a lot of redemption here. There's not a great deal of joy, or much moonlight shining through the night clouds over the city, but this is visceral trip through the world of night-shift paramedics. Bringing Out the dead is a story that will show you how to restart a persons heart, and show you the soul of a man who cannot restart his own.
Frank Pierce, the narrator of the novel, is a study in burnout, the pressures of being a paramedic having driven him close to insanity. He is barely hanging on to a job he desperately wants to leave, has lost his wife, and is fighting a losing battle with alcoholism, finishing his shifts getting obliterated in an Irish dive bar.
Frank's story reminded me of all the burnt-out cop storylines so popular in 80s movies and TV shows, with the difference that it is empathy that has burnt him out, rather than his hatred of 'perps' or the 'corrupt system' or some other cliche. His despair is driven by the ghosts of all the people who he has been unable to save, their specters waiting on every street corner, reminding him of his failures. he is particularly traumatized by an asthmatic he couldn't save, a young girl in a yellow raincoat named Rose. With every yellow raincoat that passes him on the street he sees Rose again, reliving his failure to save her.
Frank is wrestling with his future, desperate to leave his job but hoping for one redemptive patient, a chance to save a life and leave on the high that only rescuing someone from the claws of death can deliver. He seeks this redemption on the mean night streets of NY, working with succession of crazy, burnt-out and sometimes just plain bad partners, gunning ambulances through red lights and cheating death at crazy speeds, getting in fights, drinking himself into a stupor and quixotically trying to help the family of a now brain-dead man whom he revived.
There's not a lot of redemption here. There's not a great deal of joy, or much moonlight shining through the night clouds over the city, but this is visceral trip through the world of night-shift paramedics. Bringing Out the dead is a story that will show you how to restart a persons heart, and show you the soul of a man who cannot restart his own.
April 17, 2012
The main character, Frank Pierce, is a PARAMEDIC. Not an EMT. EMT is not a politically correct term for a Paramedic, they are two different, albeit related, positions in the medical field.
Okay, now that's out of my system . . .
Joe Connelly, thank you for writing this book.
To the nay sayers snarking that this story is an unrealistic portrayal of prehospital providers. You're missing the point. Pierce is the embodiment of anyone who has dealt with burnout; both addicted to, and sick of his job, he is stuck in a mire that is killing him. His actions might not mimic your real-life professional paramedic's actions. But I'd bet his actions mimic their thoughts at one time or another. That is where the heart of this story lies. There are a number of poignant phrases is the book which capture it's theme and mood, but the dedication sums it up best. The book is for those who work in the wells of the night.
You don't have to work on an ambulance, or in an ER to feel this book, though if you do you will feel it more. The plot isn't so much a plot, as it is, well, an orchestration of Frank's feelings. He's addicted to being good at his job, but lately he doesn't feel so good at it. He blames himself for the death of a young girl with asthma; he is frustrated and saddened by having to resuscitate the elderly who should be allowed to die in peace without being stripped naked and having various needles and tubes shoved in their flesh and orifices; he copes with drugs and alcohol; he deals with partners who don't understand, or who are in a similar mire themselves. This is the makeup of Bringing out the Dead. There may not be rising action, climax, and denouement, but there doesn't need to be.
At the end, you will feel fulfilled and exhausted. In need one good night's rest.
Just like Frank.
Okay, now that's out of my system . . .
Joe Connelly, thank you for writing this book.
To the nay sayers snarking that this story is an unrealistic portrayal of prehospital providers. You're missing the point. Pierce is the embodiment of anyone who has dealt with burnout; both addicted to, and sick of his job, he is stuck in a mire that is killing him. His actions might not mimic your real-life professional paramedic's actions. But I'd bet his actions mimic their thoughts at one time or another. That is where the heart of this story lies. There are a number of poignant phrases is the book which capture it's theme and mood, but the dedication sums it up best. The book is for those who work in the wells of the night.
You don't have to work on an ambulance, or in an ER to feel this book, though if you do you will feel it more. The plot isn't so much a plot, as it is, well, an orchestration of Frank's feelings. He's addicted to being good at his job, but lately he doesn't feel so good at it. He blames himself for the death of a young girl with asthma; he is frustrated and saddened by having to resuscitate the elderly who should be allowed to die in peace without being stripped naked and having various needles and tubes shoved in their flesh and orifices; he copes with drugs and alcohol; he deals with partners who don't understand, or who are in a similar mire themselves. This is the makeup of Bringing out the Dead. There may not be rising action, climax, and denouement, but there doesn't need to be.
At the end, you will feel fulfilled and exhausted. In need one good night's rest.
Just like Frank.
July 29, 2018
29/7 - Super boring. Super depressing. Super triggering if you have a fear of getting sick and needing an ambulance or the hospital.
I really have no idea what Connelly was going for with this book. Frank Pierce is an ambulance driver who is so badly burned out that he's seeing hallucinations of the patients he couldn't save. His wife has left him because of what the job has done to him and he's swigging from a flask while on duty. He has no hope. He tries to quit for his sanity but his captain doesn't take him seriously because of how many times he's already quit and then ended up arriving for his shift anyway.
His fellow ambulance officers aren't much better off. There's the one who drives so fast and so recklessly that he keeps wrecking the vehicles. There's the one who has found God and believes that it's all down to fate and nothing he does will change the outcome, so why hurry. There's the one who behaves like a cop, using excess violence against anyone who looks at him wrong. There's the partner we meet at the start of the book who discusses one of the dispatchers in the most crass and offensive manner and (in my opinion) sexually harasses her over the radio when she's giving out the jobs. And that's not even considering the deplorable staff at the main hospital Frank drops his patients off at.
The hospital is called Our Lady of Mercy, but everyone calls it Misery because of the treatment the patients receive. The ER doctor is known as Hazmat, for (as far as I remember) unknown but easily imaginable reasons. Then there's the security guard who refuses to let patients' family to get past the waiting room or the intake nurse who tells patients "We treated you yesterday for alcohol poisoning and discharged you this morning, now you're back again. Why should we bother with you when you just keep doing this to yourself?". Then there's the way Frank's main patient, Mr. Burke, is treated at the hospital. His family are rarely allowed into see him, despite his critical condition; the doctors seem mystified with what to do with him, how to help him, other than keeping him sedated so he won't pull his intubation tube out and doing CPR and shocking him when his heart stops (multiple times a day for the two days he's in the hospital). This was written in '99, so it's nineteen years old, but even back then they had more treatment options for a heart attack than just stick him on a bed and leave him there till he can no longer be revived.
Reading this is enough to make a reader, even one with no previous concerns (which isn't me at all), terrified of the idea of needing an ambulance or being admitted to hospital for any reason at all. I'm not suggesting that aspects of this aren't a realistic portrayal of life as an ambulance officer suffering from burnout, but I can't believe all these issues could be happening to so many ambulance officers from the same dispatch centre at the same time.
I really have no idea what Connelly was going for with this book. Frank Pierce is an ambulance driver who is so badly burned out that he's seeing hallucinations of the patients he couldn't save. His wife has left him because of what the job has done to him and he's swigging from a flask while on duty. He has no hope. He tries to quit for his sanity but his captain doesn't take him seriously because of how many times he's already quit and then ended up arriving for his shift anyway.
His fellow ambulance officers aren't much better off. There's the one who drives so fast and so recklessly that he keeps wrecking the vehicles. There's the one who has found God and believes that it's all down to fate and nothing he does will change the outcome, so why hurry. There's the one who behaves like a cop, using excess violence against anyone who looks at him wrong. There's the partner we meet at the start of the book who discusses one of the dispatchers in the most crass and offensive manner and (in my opinion) sexually harasses her over the radio when she's giving out the jobs. And that's not even considering the deplorable staff at the main hospital Frank drops his patients off at.
The hospital is called Our Lady of Mercy, but everyone calls it Misery because of the treatment the patients receive. The ER doctor is known as Hazmat, for (as far as I remember) unknown but easily imaginable reasons. Then there's the security guard who refuses to let patients' family to get past the waiting room or the intake nurse who tells patients "We treated you yesterday for alcohol poisoning and discharged you this morning, now you're back again. Why should we bother with you when you just keep doing this to yourself?". Then there's the way Frank's main patient, Mr. Burke, is treated at the hospital. His family are rarely allowed into see him, despite his critical condition; the doctors seem mystified with what to do with him, how to help him, other than keeping him sedated so he won't pull his intubation tube out and doing CPR and shocking him when his heart stops (multiple times a day for the two days he's in the hospital). This was written in '99, so it's nineteen years old, but even back then they had more treatment options for a heart attack than just stick him on a bed and leave him there till he can no longer be revived.
Reading this is enough to make a reader, even one with no previous concerns (which isn't me at all), terrified of the idea of needing an ambulance or being admitted to hospital for any reason at all. I'm not suggesting that aspects of this aren't a realistic portrayal of life as an ambulance officer suffering from burnout, but I can't believe all these issues could be happening to so many ambulance officers from the same dispatch centre at the same time.
July 24, 2008
i made it about one-third of the way through this book, about the scarifying experiences of a young emt in new york city, then i stopped. connelly’s writing is good, in places very good. and he describes many arresting anecdotes that would be strange to most of us and many quirky characters, some amusing, others tragic. all of it is plausibly derived from his real life experiences as an emt in new york. good writing, engaging incidents, exotic characters – what’s missing? plot. good old-fashioned plot. “bringing out the dead” is concrete evidence that we need to feel (at least i do) that there is some forward movement in a story. or even backward movement. but movement of some kind. as someone wrote, a story is what makes you ask, “what happens next?” in this novel i didn’t see any “next”, except perhaps another odd anecdote and maybe another bizarre character. sure, the protagonist is living on the brink of insanity, having visions or hallucinations of people whose deaths he has attended. but that’s not necessarily a plot. (in this context it might be instructive to re-read “under the volcano” to see how lowry made an alcoholic breakdown into an absorbing plot.) maybe if the protagonist didn’t string us along for almost 100 pages (and perhaps longer?) with references to a young woman named rose whom he “had helped to kill” and who haunted him all over the city . . . you can only hold the reader for so long with the credit of a promise. sooner or later, you have to cash it in.
June 30, 2014
As a former EMT, I have my own first-hand knowledge of the symptoms of burn-out, and my career never took me anywhere nearly as intense as New York City. The EMTs and Paramedics who staff the ambulances in Manhattan are a breed unto themselves, handling an incredibly high call volume under almost unbelievable conditions. It is, perhaps, surprising that anyone survives that job with their sanity intact.
This novel, written by a former New York City paramedic, takes inside the world of the street paramedic working the night shift in Manhattan. This is a medic on the verge of a complete mental breakdown, haunted by the ghosts of the patients he couldn’t save, barely able to continue doing his job as he struggles to redeem himself by saving just one more life. Filled with memorable and eccentric characters, this novel explores the limits of the human psyche and shows the gritty reality of providing emergency care in a city that never sleeps.
While this book clearly doesn’t reflect every paramedic’s experiences, even within New York City, it feels authentic and almost autobiographical, and is certainly informed by the author’s own experiences. The narrator is clearly haunted by his job and yet can’t quite bring himself to leave it either. He feels a deep connection to the streets he serves and the people that live there, even when they seem beyond saving. He sees himself as being among those who need saving, and he is desperate to find his own salvation.
This book does contain some graphic descriptions of injuries and violence, which is probably to be expected in this context, but sensitive readers should be warned. This isn’t the most positive portrayal of emergency responders, but it feels like an honest attempt to capture the wounded and fragile mindset of many of those who serve the roughest communities.
This novel, written by a former New York City paramedic, takes inside the world of the street paramedic working the night shift in Manhattan. This is a medic on the verge of a complete mental breakdown, haunted by the ghosts of the patients he couldn’t save, barely able to continue doing his job as he struggles to redeem himself by saving just one more life. Filled with memorable and eccentric characters, this novel explores the limits of the human psyche and shows the gritty reality of providing emergency care in a city that never sleeps.
While this book clearly doesn’t reflect every paramedic’s experiences, even within New York City, it feels authentic and almost autobiographical, and is certainly informed by the author’s own experiences. The narrator is clearly haunted by his job and yet can’t quite bring himself to leave it either. He feels a deep connection to the streets he serves and the people that live there, even when they seem beyond saving. He sees himself as being among those who need saving, and he is desperate to find his own salvation.
This book does contain some graphic descriptions of injuries and violence, which is probably to be expected in this context, but sensitive readers should be warned. This isn’t the most positive portrayal of emergency responders, but it feels like an honest attempt to capture the wounded and fragile mindset of many of those who serve the roughest communities.
November 25, 2025
Very atmospheric, with a slightly unreliable narration & a stretched feeling of time. I can see how this would translate well into a film if you tidy up the storyline.
May 31, 2021
Wow, I loved this one!
I remember loving the film when I saw it on TV ages ago. There's something about the lonely nighttime mood that resonates with me more than anything. What I didn't know was that Scorcese, clearly knowing everything about cinema, had immaculately captured the mood of the source text. And I'm also reminded of Dhalgren in that way that, there is an entire city that lives out its life unnoticed and not even interacted with by most of the world. It's just this weird sliver of society that has its own culture and rules. And the paramedic protagonist is haunted by this concentration of death, violence and undignified suffering, trauma-bonded to the work by the need to do something, the thrill of occasionally saving a life.
There's the typical gallows humour that you would expect from someone in this profession—except it always struck me as darkly funny and never kinda gratuitous or, I don't know, patriarchal in the way it usually does. And Frank really does seem like a good guy, trying to make the best decisions in a world that's falling apart. Most of the damage or fallout from his job is self-inflicted and he never slips into a haughtiness or condescending tone about what a great guy he is to dare to do this profession compared to others.
And there are these brilliant interludes between chapters that often work as short stories themselves. Check it:
I was once called to the Plaza Hotel for an ambassador from a very small oil-rich country. He complained of crushing chest pain. I told him we'd take him to Our Lady of Mercy. Is it a good hospital he asked, a question I preferred not to answer. I gave him some nitroglycerin and morphine, which eased the pain some, and we took him in and slid him into slot one in the treatment room and hooked him up to Misery's machines. I noticed then that the curtain between slot one and slot two was open and that on the stretcher in slot two was a cardiac arrest I had brought in hours before, who had been pronounced dead and was waiting to be bagged and taken down to the morgue. I noticed, too, that the dead man bore a striking resemblance to the ambassador. The ambassador observed this also. “Is it me?” he cried. “Is it me?” That question, as well, I preferred not to answer.
I remember loving the film when I saw it on TV ages ago. There's something about the lonely nighttime mood that resonates with me more than anything. What I didn't know was that Scorcese, clearly knowing everything about cinema, had immaculately captured the mood of the source text. And I'm also reminded of Dhalgren in that way that, there is an entire city that lives out its life unnoticed and not even interacted with by most of the world. It's just this weird sliver of society that has its own culture and rules. And the paramedic protagonist is haunted by this concentration of death, violence and undignified suffering, trauma-bonded to the work by the need to do something, the thrill of occasionally saving a life.
There's the typical gallows humour that you would expect from someone in this profession—except it always struck me as darkly funny and never kinda gratuitous or, I don't know, patriarchal in the way it usually does. And Frank really does seem like a good guy, trying to make the best decisions in a world that's falling apart. Most of the damage or fallout from his job is self-inflicted and he never slips into a haughtiness or condescending tone about what a great guy he is to dare to do this profession compared to others.
And there are these brilliant interludes between chapters that often work as short stories themselves. Check it:
I was once called to the Plaza Hotel for an ambassador from a very small oil-rich country. He complained of crushing chest pain. I told him we'd take him to Our Lady of Mercy. Is it a good hospital he asked, a question I preferred not to answer. I gave him some nitroglycerin and morphine, which eased the pain some, and we took him in and slid him into slot one in the treatment room and hooked him up to Misery's machines. I noticed then that the curtain between slot one and slot two was open and that on the stretcher in slot two was a cardiac arrest I had brought in hours before, who had been pronounced dead and was waiting to be bagged and taken down to the morgue. I noticed, too, that the dead man bore a striking resemblance to the ambassador. The ambassador observed this also. “Is it me?” he cried. “Is it me?” That question, as well, I preferred not to answer.
August 7, 2017
Dark and light, fantasy and reality... that's how I felt about this book. I identified deeply with much of the emotion portrayed, but some of the situations were incredibly unrealistic. Granted, I belong to the more current generation of paramedics, but a lot of the story seemed unrealistic to me. What didn't seem like fiction were the feelings involved... regret, inadequacy, substance abuse, and the constant questioning of one's choices all seemed real to a fault. The poetic nature of the author is beautiful, and he speaks profound truths. That being said, I struggle with his portrayal of a medic. It may have been true for that time, but we no longer have such freedom or license, and things work far differently now than are written about then. Overall, as a medic, it's a great read, but I also found it dragging me to places I fight to stay away from, so be careful when and how you read it.
January 13, 2011
This was one of the first books I ever read by my own choosing. Ten years later, I gave it a second try. It seems my tastes haven’t changed too much.
Bringing Out the Dead is a whacked-out after-hours ambulance chase through NYC’s concrete jungle. Plenty-a-haunting venue and several memorably desperate characters, such as one psychotic dude who literally can’t stop drinking water (a real-life, rare, and extremely lethal condition).
Connelly has considerable eloquence and an uncanny knack for vividly portraying human misery, of both the somatic and psychological forms.
But this book is no tear-jerker. It’s more like watching a stranger jump off the neighboring roof.
Bringing Out the Dead is a whacked-out after-hours ambulance chase through NYC’s concrete jungle. Plenty-a-haunting venue and several memorably desperate characters, such as one psychotic dude who literally can’t stop drinking water (a real-life, rare, and extremely lethal condition).
Connelly has considerable eloquence and an uncanny knack for vividly portraying human misery, of both the somatic and psychological forms.
But this book is no tear-jerker. It’s more like watching a stranger jump off the neighboring roof.
January 1, 2020
"To those who work in the wells of night."
A novel bursting with life, sorrow, yearning, gallows humor and horror. An extremely humanistic and believable account of urban working-class life and the struggle to cope with lingering trauma.
A novel bursting with life, sorrow, yearning, gallows humor and horror. An extremely humanistic and believable account of urban working-class life and the struggle to cope with lingering trauma.
April 1, 2024
I was working at a movie theater in highschool when this came out. I ended up with it on VHS tape and watched it a lot, and read the book once. that was more than 20 years ago. rereading it now brought back a lot of memories and I need to find time for the movie soon. anyways, the book held up is still good. great characters and writing. too bad his writing career didn't seem to go much further.
December 17, 2023
Unfortunately there was no audiobook for this so I had to read it with text to speech. It was difficult to follow and keep track of the characters, and I’m sure my reading experience suffered as a result.
At the same time I got enough out of it to know I didn’t care for any of the characters.
At the same time I got enough out of it to know I didn’t care for any of the characters.
July 29, 2022
3.5⭐️! This was really great in a visceral, hopeless kind of way. I loved the writing and pacing but now I have burnout just reading about Frank’s burnout. A continuous bummer from beginning to end. Now to watch the movie!
November 1, 2011
A book written by a paramedic for paramedics. This is the best I have ever read about my proffesion. I know we have all felt the way the main character does from time to time. I have read that Joe Connelly's next book was not very good and I don't think he has written anything else. I loved the movie, but nonems didn't get it. Bringing out the dead is like a joke you have to explain. Either you get it or I can't explain it to you.
December 12, 2023
This is like a 2.5 rounded up. Some aspects of this I really liked, but it’s just way too long and repetitive. It should be a novella instead. A lot of the events blur together and cover the same ground again and again.
I also felt it was dated in terms of the sexism and racism in the story. I don’t necessarily think Connelly agrees with all the views expressed by the characters, but I think he largely uses it for humor and doesn’t recognize the harm.
I did appreciate the *vibes* of the story. It’s intense, dark, chaotic. Policies and standards fall apart in the face of complex socioeconomic challenges and understaffing. The way he could not quit/get fired was so absurd and funny.
But I was often very bored, and I often zoned out. 😬
I also felt it was dated in terms of the sexism and racism in the story. I don’t necessarily think Connelly agrees with all the views expressed by the characters, but I think he largely uses it for humor and doesn’t recognize the harm.
I did appreciate the *vibes* of the story. It’s intense, dark, chaotic. Policies and standards fall apart in the face of complex socioeconomic challenges and understaffing. The way he could not quit/get fired was so absurd and funny.
But I was often very bored, and I often zoned out. 😬
October 27, 2022
How do you like your urban (autobio) fiction? If you said gritty and realistic, have I got a gook for you!
Joe Connelly, who actually was a paramedic on New York City's mean streets in the days of the crack crisis, delivers a powerful and haunting book about a paramedic who is falling apart on the job. Haunted by the memory of one of the patients he lost, an adolescent girl, he's in a tragic slump in which he just can't seem to save anyone. He begins to turn on himself, his job, his ambulance partners. His mental state is deteriorating at a rate of knots and every evening when clocking in (he works the night shift, always praying for dawn) tries to quit his job in manic style. He doesn't get much support as his colleagues seem crazier than he is. All the while, there is a subplot involving a man in a vegetative state whose daughter is hanging grimly to hope.
This is as much an intense psychological drama as it is a spiraling, speeding, seedy story of a city gone mad and fighting for its soul. Nevertheless, the book has its moments of redemption and light.
Connelly's writing is masterful and perfect in style and tone for the subject matter. After all, he was there.
NOTE: The book was turned into an equally powerful and atmospheric movie (1999) with Nicholas Cage superbly cast as the protagonist teetering on the edge of sanity.
Joe Connelly, who actually was a paramedic on New York City's mean streets in the days of the crack crisis, delivers a powerful and haunting book about a paramedic who is falling apart on the job. Haunted by the memory of one of the patients he lost, an adolescent girl, he's in a tragic slump in which he just can't seem to save anyone. He begins to turn on himself, his job, his ambulance partners. His mental state is deteriorating at a rate of knots and every evening when clocking in (he works the night shift, always praying for dawn) tries to quit his job in manic style. He doesn't get much support as his colleagues seem crazier than he is. All the while, there is a subplot involving a man in a vegetative state whose daughter is hanging grimly to hope.
This is as much an intense psychological drama as it is a spiraling, speeding, seedy story of a city gone mad and fighting for its soul. Nevertheless, the book has its moments of redemption and light.
Connelly's writing is masterful and perfect in style and tone for the subject matter. After all, he was there.
NOTE: The book was turned into an equally powerful and atmospheric movie (1999) with Nicholas Cage superbly cast as the protagonist teetering on the edge of sanity.
January 3, 2024
Phenomenal. Beautifully written and was made into a faithful adaptation starring Nicholas Cage. Raw. Gritty. Full of seething humour and brutal true life. A classic.
May 10, 2023
I was about 20 when I saw Martin Scorsese's movie adaptation, and I remember almost nothing, just that it wasn't great. Maybe 10 years later, once I had seen Taxi Driver, I watched it again, thinking there might be some echoes there I'd appreciate. Nope. Now, I'm 40, and something reminded me a while back that this bizarre, apparent failure of a movie was based on a novel... so, will I masochistically watch it again? Probably. I can't really defend my choices.
Leaving aside my film critique, I'll say the book was compelling throughout, mainly in its melancholy style but also in its (ok, sometimes one-note) subject matter. It was definitely worth the read--and is probably even more so if you never attempted the film.
Leaving aside my film critique, I'll say the book was compelling throughout, mainly in its melancholy style but also in its (ok, sometimes one-note) subject matter. It was definitely worth the read--and is probably even more so if you never attempted the film.
March 30, 2011
This was an alarming novel to read, and not one for the overly sensitive, as it deals with about the worst things that can happen to an EMT in the worst possible area in the world at the worst possible time of day. Having said that, it’s a great book, and one that I enjoyed reading very much; and now that I am done reading it, I will make Richard (my better half) read it, as I think he’d love it.
Frank Pierce grew up in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood in Manhattan in New York City between 34th Street and 59th Street, from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River; he left at the age of ten, but came back to become an Emergency Medical Technician on the night shift, from 12:00 am to 8:00 am. He drives an ambulance with a partner (they switch off on who drives the ambulance and who stays in the back with patients), and roams the streets until a call comes in from the dispatcher or until they see a situation, whichever comes first.
Pierce is deeply burnt out by his profession, but he is addicted to this life; he vows to quit periodically, and always comes back, even though he lost his wife and is close to losing his sanity (assuming he had any to start with). He drinks far too much, and keeps seeing the people he was unable to save from dying over and over again as he and his partner du jour (his partners, every one, have their own demons, kept barely in check) charge up and down the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, taking the quick and the dead and those in any possible state in between to the understaffed urban hospital of Our Lady of Mercy (called Misery by those unfortunate to be there). The action of the story covers two or three days of this life. It’s hard to tell if Pierce is going deeper into madness or coming out of madness during the story; but he remains a dedicated EMT, and keeps going back.
This was a deeply disturbing story; it takes a special kind of person to be an EMT, and among those who are EMTS in the worst possible situations, there are a wide variation of ways of dealing with the job and the horrors of the job. And this book makes me grateful, among other things, that there but for the grace of God go I, either as an EMT or someone in the back of an EMT vehicle heading for the hospital at high speed or low speed.
Frank Pierce grew up in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood in Manhattan in New York City between 34th Street and 59th Street, from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River; he left at the age of ten, but came back to become an Emergency Medical Technician on the night shift, from 12:00 am to 8:00 am. He drives an ambulance with a partner (they switch off on who drives the ambulance and who stays in the back with patients), and roams the streets until a call comes in from the dispatcher or until they see a situation, whichever comes first.
Pierce is deeply burnt out by his profession, but he is addicted to this life; he vows to quit periodically, and always comes back, even though he lost his wife and is close to losing his sanity (assuming he had any to start with). He drinks far too much, and keeps seeing the people he was unable to save from dying over and over again as he and his partner du jour (his partners, every one, have their own demons, kept barely in check) charge up and down the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, taking the quick and the dead and those in any possible state in between to the understaffed urban hospital of Our Lady of Mercy (called Misery by those unfortunate to be there). The action of the story covers two or three days of this life. It’s hard to tell if Pierce is going deeper into madness or coming out of madness during the story; but he remains a dedicated EMT, and keeps going back.
This was a deeply disturbing story; it takes a special kind of person to be an EMT, and among those who are EMTS in the worst possible situations, there are a wide variation of ways of dealing with the job and the horrors of the job. And this book makes me grateful, among other things, that there but for the grace of God go I, either as an EMT or someone in the back of an EMT vehicle heading for the hospital at high speed or low speed.
November 20, 2016
Bringing them back and ushering them out
‘Bringing Out the Dead’ is in a possibly one-of-a-kind genre—medic noir. The narrator/protagonist, paramedic Frank Pierce, is as burned out by the relentless death and depravity he encounters every night as Phillip Marlowe. He even utters a line that is, word for word, what Robert Mitchum’s Marlowe spoke in the 1975 film version of ‘Farewell, My Lovely’. The toll the job placed on him resulted in the loss of his marriage (his relationship with his wife began as her emergency rescuer) and a greater failure-to-success ratio than he had in earlier, less jaded years on the job.
Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan in this novel is a perfect real-world locale for Dante’s Inferno and Joe Connelly uses all the metaphorical tools of his linguistic arsenal to evoke that world. The medics as well as the emergency room personnel all use various coping mechanisms to get through the cyclical nature of their job. They even see the same people—junkies, prostitutes, gang members, alcoholics, homeless—repeatedly as many of these patients are caught in cyclical lives of their own. Compassion is in short supply among all of the exhausted medical staff. A standard speech from Triage Nurse Constance to a repeat visitor:
“Sir, you say you’ve been snorting cocaine for three days and now you feel that your heart is beating too fast and you would like us to help you. Well, to tell you the truth, I can’t see why we should. If I’m mistaken here, correct me, okay? Did we sell you the cocaine? Did we push that cocaine up your nose?”
The neighborhood hospital, Our Lady of Mercy, nicknamed “Misery”, is where Frank himself was born. His father drove a taxi and his mother was a nurse, so he sees his vocation as emergency medic as the natural blend of both of their professions. He is, not surprisingly, an alcoholic, but alcohol can only numb or soften the horrors that he witnesses every graveyard shift. He is haunted by the figures of those who have passed, most noticeably the ghost of a girl named Rose, “the girl who I helped kill” because he botched an intubation procedure that hastened her death.
Beneath the anecdotal accounts of incidents in the day in the life of a medic, there is a narrative thread, a spine of a story that he keeps coming back to. Frank’s latest miracle resurrection is a man, Mr. Blair, who died after several attempts to resuscitate him until Frank’s persistence kept his heart going and his eyes blinking even though his brain activity will undoubtedly be null for the rest of his life, however long that may be. The man’s daughter, Mary, seems to be a kindred lost soul. He offers comfort and attentive interest to the distraught woman, a partially recovering addict herself who flogs herself with guilt for the severed relationship she ended up having with her father, now mourning her lost opportunity to repair the damage she caused. A bond of sorrow unites them through mostly unspoken eye contact and words of sympathy and compassion. Mary knows at least two of the underworld addicts/dealers that Frank also encounters on his rounds—the hysterical, brain-damaged, addled, constantly thirsty Noel and the kingpin wannabe Cy Coates, whom Frank also has a chance to save.
Frank shifts partners with each consecutive shift in the course of the novel. Larry’s shifts become searches for all-night diners; food is the only stable element in his life. Marcus is a born-again Christian with a touch of the charlatan who likes to convince his patients and those surrounding them that he has the ability to bring someone back from the dead based on the power of prayer. Tom is a bouncer for law and order, often beating up junkies. Frank himself is a priest who has lost his faith:
“I began to realize that my year of training was useful in less than ten percent of the calls, and saving someone’s life was a lot rarer than that. I made up for this by driving very fast, one call to another—at least I looked like a lifesaver—but as the years went by I understood that my primary role was less about saving lives than about bearing witness...I was a grief mop, and much of my job was to remove, if even for a short time, the grief starter or the grief product, and mop up whatever I could. Often it was enough that I simply showed up.”
He begs to be fired. His chief keeps saying he’ll fire him tomorrow but he needs him tonight. Frank is out of sick leave and there’s nothing he can seem to do to get himself out of this interminable job.
He and his equally disturbed partners commit various infractions that do nothing to get them off the job. They drive fast, they drive recklessly and successfully wreck at least one battered ambulance. Despite their unprofessional behavior, they can’t NOT be professionals. Frank finally gets so fed up with a botched suicide that he snaps:
“I mean, this is the worst suicide attempt I’ve ever seen. You feel the pulse? Here. That’s where you cut, and it’s not across, it’s down, like so…With all the poor people of this city that wanted to live in peace and were viciously murdered, you have the nerve to sit here wanting to die and not going through with it. You make me sick.”
The city may never sleep and yet it seems to be trapped in a perpetual waking fever dream. Connelly was himself an emergency medic in Hell’s Kitchen so the novel feels completely authentic and I suspect the extreme behavior and the gallows humor is not all that exaggerated. The relentless despair and jaded cynicism is a bit suffocating throughout the novel, although I think it’s mild compared to what the character is feeling. The frequency with which Frank keeps running into the same characters seems a bit contrived, as if the entire novel takes place on one city block rather than a district of several miles, cluttered with people.
By the end of the novel, Frank has dispensed all the mercy and lifesaving within his power and he consoles himself:
“I couldn’t keep Rose breathing, but I’d kept her memory, stayed with her at the end a thousand times. Didn’t that make me a better lifesaver, a true saver of lives? Hadn’t I saved them all, each with their own room inside?”
Whether he has brought them back or escorted them out, Frank seems reconciled to the truth that it is all one continuous process and that he plays the role he was destined to play in each scenario—grief mop, lifesaver, listener, hand holder—it makes no difference which one.
‘Bringing Out the Dead’ is in a possibly one-of-a-kind genre—medic noir. The narrator/protagonist, paramedic Frank Pierce, is as burned out by the relentless death and depravity he encounters every night as Phillip Marlowe. He even utters a line that is, word for word, what Robert Mitchum’s Marlowe spoke in the 1975 film version of ‘Farewell, My Lovely’. The toll the job placed on him resulted in the loss of his marriage (his relationship with his wife began as her emergency rescuer) and a greater failure-to-success ratio than he had in earlier, less jaded years on the job.
Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan in this novel is a perfect real-world locale for Dante’s Inferno and Joe Connelly uses all the metaphorical tools of his linguistic arsenal to evoke that world. The medics as well as the emergency room personnel all use various coping mechanisms to get through the cyclical nature of their job. They even see the same people—junkies, prostitutes, gang members, alcoholics, homeless—repeatedly as many of these patients are caught in cyclical lives of their own. Compassion is in short supply among all of the exhausted medical staff. A standard speech from Triage Nurse Constance to a repeat visitor:
“Sir, you say you’ve been snorting cocaine for three days and now you feel that your heart is beating too fast and you would like us to help you. Well, to tell you the truth, I can’t see why we should. If I’m mistaken here, correct me, okay? Did we sell you the cocaine? Did we push that cocaine up your nose?”
The neighborhood hospital, Our Lady of Mercy, nicknamed “Misery”, is where Frank himself was born. His father drove a taxi and his mother was a nurse, so he sees his vocation as emergency medic as the natural blend of both of their professions. He is, not surprisingly, an alcoholic, but alcohol can only numb or soften the horrors that he witnesses every graveyard shift. He is haunted by the figures of those who have passed, most noticeably the ghost of a girl named Rose, “the girl who I helped kill” because he botched an intubation procedure that hastened her death.
Beneath the anecdotal accounts of incidents in the day in the life of a medic, there is a narrative thread, a spine of a story that he keeps coming back to. Frank’s latest miracle resurrection is a man, Mr. Blair, who died after several attempts to resuscitate him until Frank’s persistence kept his heart going and his eyes blinking even though his brain activity will undoubtedly be null for the rest of his life, however long that may be. The man’s daughter, Mary, seems to be a kindred lost soul. He offers comfort and attentive interest to the distraught woman, a partially recovering addict herself who flogs herself with guilt for the severed relationship she ended up having with her father, now mourning her lost opportunity to repair the damage she caused. A bond of sorrow unites them through mostly unspoken eye contact and words of sympathy and compassion. Mary knows at least two of the underworld addicts/dealers that Frank also encounters on his rounds—the hysterical, brain-damaged, addled, constantly thirsty Noel and the kingpin wannabe Cy Coates, whom Frank also has a chance to save.
Frank shifts partners with each consecutive shift in the course of the novel. Larry’s shifts become searches for all-night diners; food is the only stable element in his life. Marcus is a born-again Christian with a touch of the charlatan who likes to convince his patients and those surrounding them that he has the ability to bring someone back from the dead based on the power of prayer. Tom is a bouncer for law and order, often beating up junkies. Frank himself is a priest who has lost his faith:
“I began to realize that my year of training was useful in less than ten percent of the calls, and saving someone’s life was a lot rarer than that. I made up for this by driving very fast, one call to another—at least I looked like a lifesaver—but as the years went by I understood that my primary role was less about saving lives than about bearing witness...I was a grief mop, and much of my job was to remove, if even for a short time, the grief starter or the grief product, and mop up whatever I could. Often it was enough that I simply showed up.”
He begs to be fired. His chief keeps saying he’ll fire him tomorrow but he needs him tonight. Frank is out of sick leave and there’s nothing he can seem to do to get himself out of this interminable job.
He and his equally disturbed partners commit various infractions that do nothing to get them off the job. They drive fast, they drive recklessly and successfully wreck at least one battered ambulance. Despite their unprofessional behavior, they can’t NOT be professionals. Frank finally gets so fed up with a botched suicide that he snaps:
“I mean, this is the worst suicide attempt I’ve ever seen. You feel the pulse? Here. That’s where you cut, and it’s not across, it’s down, like so…With all the poor people of this city that wanted to live in peace and were viciously murdered, you have the nerve to sit here wanting to die and not going through with it. You make me sick.”
The city may never sleep and yet it seems to be trapped in a perpetual waking fever dream. Connelly was himself an emergency medic in Hell’s Kitchen so the novel feels completely authentic and I suspect the extreme behavior and the gallows humor is not all that exaggerated. The relentless despair and jaded cynicism is a bit suffocating throughout the novel, although I think it’s mild compared to what the character is feeling. The frequency with which Frank keeps running into the same characters seems a bit contrived, as if the entire novel takes place on one city block rather than a district of several miles, cluttered with people.
By the end of the novel, Frank has dispensed all the mercy and lifesaving within his power and he consoles himself:
“I couldn’t keep Rose breathing, but I’d kept her memory, stayed with her at the end a thousand times. Didn’t that make me a better lifesaver, a true saver of lives? Hadn’t I saved them all, each with their own room inside?”
Whether he has brought them back or escorted them out, Frank seems reconciled to the truth that it is all one continuous process and that he plays the role he was destined to play in each scenario—grief mop, lifesaver, listener, hand holder—it makes no difference which one.
April 22, 2022
I made the probably unwise choice to read this before going to bed... and read it in two long sittings, one night after the other.
It's a brutal story, mixing dark comedy with medical descriptions as it shows you the everyday work of a medic in New York City, from bizarre cases to all-too-common crimes. Somewhere in the middle of that, you realize the writer is using religious language: the people you save are miracles, the people you don't save appear on every corner long after they're buried, and there's something distinctly Christlike about the main character who concludes his real job is to be a "grief mop," taking all the pain out of a situation.
Is it a religious story? Is it a purely natural story about a man hallucinating that he sees ghosts? Connelly doesn't tell you, and that friction makes the story more interesting. It just may be a Graham Greene-style story about Catholic guilt and scrabbling to find redemption.
Since it's ambiguous, you may not agree with the ending or its conclusions, but it provokes some great questions.
It's a brutal story, mixing dark comedy with medical descriptions as it shows you the everyday work of a medic in New York City, from bizarre cases to all-too-common crimes. Somewhere in the middle of that, you realize the writer is using religious language: the people you save are miracles, the people you don't save appear on every corner long after they're buried, and there's something distinctly Christlike about the main character who concludes his real job is to be a "grief mop," taking all the pain out of a situation.
Is it a religious story? Is it a purely natural story about a man hallucinating that he sees ghosts? Connelly doesn't tell you, and that friction makes the story more interesting. It just may be a Graham Greene-style story about Catholic guilt and scrabbling to find redemption.
Since it's ambiguous, you may not agree with the ending or its conclusions, but it provokes some great questions.
April 13, 2017
I gave this book 4 stars upon finishing but I'm changing it to 5 stars because it won't let go of me. The story of a burned-out paramedic working for a private ambulance service in New York's Hell's Kitchen, Bringing Out the Dead is about burnout, addiction, and the ghosts paramedics carry with them. Beautifully written, deeply affecting, sometimes graphic and more than a little scary. You will come out of the reading feeling a little nervous about whether or not the people charged with keeping you alive are okay because pretty much all of the characters in this book are a little crazy. But, it will also make you think about life and death and where the medical establishment should draw the line when it comes to resuscitation.
January 26, 2008
a NYC paramedic who is an alcoholic, workaholic and sees his dead victims walking the streets as he attempts to save lives. Makes me a little afraid to get sick and call 911.
I saw this movie when it first came out, and liked it. Had to order this book used online in order to read it. And really liked the book as well. I could see Nicholas Cage and Patricia Arquette and Ving Rhames in my head as I read through it.... It was interesting.
I saw this movie when it first came out, and liked it. Had to order this book used online in order to read it. And really liked the book as well. I could see Nicholas Cage and Patricia Arquette and Ving Rhames in my head as I read through it.... It was interesting.
March 5, 2008
Great book and under-rated movie.
October 20, 2016
5/10 - Great writing/vivid imagery. It dragged on quite a bit longer than my interest
February 18, 2021
Film is likewise very good.
October 2, 2024
Online discussions and reviews of this book hail it as a larger than life adventure story of sorts – the protagonist Frank Pierce speeding around Hell's Kitchen trying to save anyone and everyone he can, a paramedic and healer of skill.
While that may be true enough at the surface level, it reads more as a survival story – specifically, the survival of Frank's soul. He is the epitome of burnout. He doesn't feel anything. He and his coworkers are reckless, abusing whatever semblance of authority they carry as EMS personnel to do whatever they want. They fight with patients. They fight with each other. They drink, they smoke, they curse. They're adrenaline junkies to various degrees – chasing the highs of the job through New York streets and fleeing the lows without care or concern for what happens when they depart.
The book lives in that strange mental space of the night shifter. Frank isn't precisely an unreliable narrator, but you can't believe everything he says, either. He rarely sees the light of day. Everything relates back to the job; he doesn't know how to act outside of work.
What might be most surprising, at least to a layperson, is just how funny the book is. It is indeed larger than life, often to a cartoonish extent. The dispatcher will comment on patients complaining of strange smells. Or cats abducting their owners. The jaded triage nurse of the underserved community hospital Frank drops most of his patients often refuses to treat patients - "Well, if we treat you for this, you'll just do it again and come back again, so we're not going to treat you." I think some of this, again, just goes back to that strange landscape that is the night shift – where dream, nightmare, exaggeration, and reality live and comingle. (Having worked night shift in urban emergency medicine for the better part of the last decade, it is frankly amazing the range of calls and complaints that come through an emergency room at night.)
This is a very interesting book, and a very funny book. I honestly don't know how much a nonmedical layperson would get out of it. It's too cynical, weird, and disinterested in medicine for the "True Stories of the ER" crowd. It's not melodramatic or hopeful enough for the "Grey's Anatomy" crowd. So, a minor recommendation for this curiosity.
While that may be true enough at the surface level, it reads more as a survival story – specifically, the survival of Frank's soul. He is the epitome of burnout. He doesn't feel anything. He and his coworkers are reckless, abusing whatever semblance of authority they carry as EMS personnel to do whatever they want. They fight with patients. They fight with each other. They drink, they smoke, they curse. They're adrenaline junkies to various degrees – chasing the highs of the job through New York streets and fleeing the lows without care or concern for what happens when they depart.
The book lives in that strange mental space of the night shifter. Frank isn't precisely an unreliable narrator, but you can't believe everything he says, either. He rarely sees the light of day. Everything relates back to the job; he doesn't know how to act outside of work.
What might be most surprising, at least to a layperson, is just how funny the book is. It is indeed larger than life, often to a cartoonish extent. The dispatcher will comment on patients complaining of strange smells. Or cats abducting their owners. The jaded triage nurse of the underserved community hospital Frank drops most of his patients often refuses to treat patients - "Well, if we treat you for this, you'll just do it again and come back again, so we're not going to treat you." I think some of this, again, just goes back to that strange landscape that is the night shift – where dream, nightmare, exaggeration, and reality live and comingle. (Having worked night shift in urban emergency medicine for the better part of the last decade, it is frankly amazing the range of calls and complaints that come through an emergency room at night.)
This is a very interesting book, and a very funny book. I honestly don't know how much a nonmedical layperson would get out of it. It's too cynical, weird, and disinterested in medicine for the "True Stories of the ER" crowd. It's not melodramatic or hopeful enough for the "Grey's Anatomy" crowd. So, a minor recommendation for this curiosity.
January 7, 2020
Bringing Out the Dead by Joe Connelly is a well-written and interesting book. It follows the life of Frank Pierce, a New York EMT. The book shows how constant job stress can take a negative toll on mental health.
The book follows Frank Pierce on his job as an EMT. Frank has been through a lot in his life, and the death and destruction he sees on a daily basis is taking a toll on his mental health. The people he couldn’t save haunt him, constantly reminding him of his failures. His job cost him his wife, who he saw as the only light in his life. As Frank continues to push through his burn-out, he starts to drink more and care less about his job. He can only focus on getting through the day. With Frank drinking more and sleeping less he starts to get hallucinations of the people who died, seeing them dying over and over again in his head and seeing them walking around as he drives around to his next call. He is depressed and lonely and doesn’t seem to even value his own life anymore.
While the book was very well-written and was captivating at the start, it was a very sad book that ultimately stayed the same throughout. It never really had a conclusion or an ending, and it was sad throughout. The author did a very good job, however, illustrating the struggle of his character Frank. He wrote very vivid descriptions and conveyed Frank’s struggle as an EMT. Joe Connelly being a former EMT himself made his writing incredibly realistic. He was able to bring the scene to life with his writing and made it interesting and captivating to read. My only complaint is with the storyline itself, since the writing was done extremely well. The author never really had Frank develop as a character, he stayed the same throughout the story. His character started the story unhappy and burned out from his years of work, and he ended the story the same way. He never overcame his struggles or found a way to resolve them, making the story mostly bland and sad throughout. So, while the writing was very good and well-written, the storyline was sad and bleak.
The book follows Frank Pierce on his job as an EMT. Frank has been through a lot in his life, and the death and destruction he sees on a daily basis is taking a toll on his mental health. The people he couldn’t save haunt him, constantly reminding him of his failures. His job cost him his wife, who he saw as the only light in his life. As Frank continues to push through his burn-out, he starts to drink more and care less about his job. He can only focus on getting through the day. With Frank drinking more and sleeping less he starts to get hallucinations of the people who died, seeing them dying over and over again in his head and seeing them walking around as he drives around to his next call. He is depressed and lonely and doesn’t seem to even value his own life anymore.
While the book was very well-written and was captivating at the start, it was a very sad book that ultimately stayed the same throughout. It never really had a conclusion or an ending, and it was sad throughout. The author did a very good job, however, illustrating the struggle of his character Frank. He wrote very vivid descriptions and conveyed Frank’s struggle as an EMT. Joe Connelly being a former EMT himself made his writing incredibly realistic. He was able to bring the scene to life with his writing and made it interesting and captivating to read. My only complaint is with the storyline itself, since the writing was done extremely well. The author never really had Frank develop as a character, he stayed the same throughout the story. His character started the story unhappy and burned out from his years of work, and he ended the story the same way. He never overcame his struggles or found a way to resolve them, making the story mostly bland and sad throughout. So, while the writing was very good and well-written, the storyline was sad and bleak.
October 13, 2020
First off, this isn't my usual choice of reading matter. That said, I remembered the movie from years back with some fondness, and I'm currently researching ambulance crews for a project, so I thought 'what the heck?'
I read it in two long sittings over two consecutive days, which is a good indication that a book moves along at a brisk pace and hauls the reader along for the ride. (Personally, I have trouble getting into much of anything longer than a short story these days.) The story is effective in conveying the sort of dragging horror that comes from burnout in what can, without a doubt, be a grim job at times. I don't get the impression that it's meant as a photorealistic description of a paramedic's life in a bad part of a big city, as much as it's a meditation on someone's unraveling.
It's also litfic, and anyone looking for a genrefic-style three act structure with a hero's journey is likely to be disappointed. That's clearly not the kind of story Connelly is telling here.
The one aspect that really dragged down my enjoyment may be more of a reflection of my usual reading tastes (and my gender) than anything else. But I absolutely despise male characters—often written by authors with male-sounding names, in my experience—who relate to female characters narcissistically during every. Single. Interaction. The female character has importance only inasmuch as they feed into the male character's narrative-of-the-moment.
Rose is only important because her death makes Frank feel guilty. Mona is only important to the extent that whatever she is doing or saying can be twisted to feed into Frank's narrative about them getting back together. Mary comes the closest to breaking through this barrier, but fails to in the end.
Is it a conscious characterization choice on the part of the author? I hope so. But I still hate it. And hence I dock a star from what was otherwise an excellent read.
I read it in two long sittings over two consecutive days, which is a good indication that a book moves along at a brisk pace and hauls the reader along for the ride. (Personally, I have trouble getting into much of anything longer than a short story these days.) The story is effective in conveying the sort of dragging horror that comes from burnout in what can, without a doubt, be a grim job at times. I don't get the impression that it's meant as a photorealistic description of a paramedic's life in a bad part of a big city, as much as it's a meditation on someone's unraveling.
It's also litfic, and anyone looking for a genrefic-style three act structure with a hero's journey is likely to be disappointed. That's clearly not the kind of story Connelly is telling here.
The one aspect that really dragged down my enjoyment may be more of a reflection of my usual reading tastes (and my gender) than anything else. But I absolutely despise male characters—often written by authors with male-sounding names, in my experience—who relate to female characters narcissistically during every. Single. Interaction. The female character has importance only inasmuch as they feed into the male character's narrative-of-the-moment.
Rose is only important because her death makes Frank feel guilty. Mona is only important to the extent that whatever she is doing or saying can be twisted to feed into Frank's narrative about them getting back together. Mary comes the closest to breaking through this barrier, but fails to in the end.
Is it a conscious characterization choice on the part of the author? I hope so. But I still hate it. And hence I dock a star from what was otherwise an excellent read.
March 23, 2025
"Bringing Out the Dead" is one of those books that seems to come out of nowhere, the novel the author needed to write, because Connelly was an EMT like the protagonist of the book, Frank Pierce. It's great when talented writers can draw on such gritty, truthful experience. I'm thinking of great authors of war-themed fiction like Tim O'Brien, Brian Turner, Phil Klay, etc. But a lot of people with the experience can't write a compelling novel like Connelly does. The prose is often lyrical, beautiful, and he does a great job characterizing Frank's fellow medics and the patients who haunt him. "Bringing Out the Dead" is nicely organized around a couple shifts at the wheel of the "busses," (the ambulances). Chapters begin with odd workplace experiences. A few recurring characters tie everything together. The book begins with Frank bringing an old man back who probably shouldn't have been saved, as he merely lingers near death for days afterward in the ICU. Frank falls for the man's daughter while also pining for his ex-wife. Throughout, there's the ghost of a young girl in a yellow raincoat Frank couldn't manage to save. The medics keep encountering a man, Noel, made crazy by a gunshot to the head. There are tired nurses and doctors and hospital guards, psychotic EMTs. The book is quite literally dark, as the characters are working the graveyard shift. There is very little sunlight. Frank is burnt-out and wants to quit, but his boss won't let him, as the unit is understaffed. "Bringing Out the Dead" is hallucinatory. There's a point the reader wonders if it's all real or just a fever dream. Everything is filtered through Frank's consciousness, which is as it should be. Connelly captures perfectly that feeling of being too tired, over-caffeinated, and unsure what is real and what's not.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 161 reviews