What do you think?
Rate this book
Miranda Corbie Mystery #1
City of Dragons
February, 1940. In San Francisco's Chinatown, fireworks explode as the city celebrates Chinese New Year with a Rice Bowl Party, a three-day-and-night carnival designed to raise money and support for China war relief. Miranda Corbie is a thirty-three-year-old private investigator who stumbles upon the fatally shot body of Eddie Takahashi. The Chamber of Commerce wants it covered up. The cops acquiesce. All Miranda wants is justice-whatever it costs.
From Chinatown tenements, to a tattered tailor's shop in Little Osaka, to a high-class bordello draped in Southern Gothic, she shakes down the city-her city-seeking the truth.
From Chinatown tenements, to a tattered tailor's shop in Little Osaka, to a high-class bordello draped in Southern Gothic, she shakes down the city-her city-seeking the truth.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published January 29, 2010
27 people are currently reading
595 people want to read
About the author
Kelli Stanley
20 books111 followersKelli Stanley is the multiple award-winning, critically acclaimed and bestselling creator of the Miranda Corbie series (CITY OF DRAGONS, CITY OF SECRETS, CITY OF GHOSTS, CITY OF SHARKS), noir novels set in 1940 San Francisco and featuring "one of crime's most arresting heroines" (Library Journal).
Kelli has also written an award-winning "Roman Noir" series set in Roman Britain (NOX DORMIENDA, THE CURSE-MAKER), and has published numerous short stories and essays.
Kelli also founded and was president of the non-profit publisher Nasty Woman Press, which published the award-winning anthology SHATTERING GLASS.
A winner of the Macavity, Bruce Alexander, Golden Nugget and Anthony awards (the latter as a publisher of SHATTERING GLASS), she was also a Shamus and Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist, while the City and County of San Francisco awarded her a Certificate of Merit for her contributions to literature. She was named a literary heir of Dashiell Hammett by his granddaughter in a Publisher's Weekly article, and critics have compared her work to her icons Raymond Chandler and Norman Corwin. She was by the Bouchercon World Mystery Convention as its Historical Mystery Guest of Honor in 2024.
Her eagerly-anticipated next novel, THE RECKONING, is a thriller set in California's "Emerald Triangle" in 1985, and features the debut of new series character Renata Drake. THE RECKONING will publish in the US and UK on January 6, 2026, from Severn House.
Kelli holds a Master's Degree in Classics, and when she's not reading or writing, loves nature walks, jazz, classic film, travel, and, with her spouse, taking care of their two rescue cats. She's also honored to have served as faculty for the famed Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference for many years.
For more more information about Kelli and her work—including interactive, multimedia maps, videos, photos and ephemera—please visit her website at www.kellistanley.com.
Kelli has also written an award-winning "Roman Noir" series set in Roman Britain (NOX DORMIENDA, THE CURSE-MAKER), and has published numerous short stories and essays.
Kelli also founded and was president of the non-profit publisher Nasty Woman Press, which published the award-winning anthology SHATTERING GLASS.
A winner of the Macavity, Bruce Alexander, Golden Nugget and Anthony awards (the latter as a publisher of SHATTERING GLASS), she was also a Shamus and Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist, while the City and County of San Francisco awarded her a Certificate of Merit for her contributions to literature. She was named a literary heir of Dashiell Hammett by his granddaughter in a Publisher's Weekly article, and critics have compared her work to her icons Raymond Chandler and Norman Corwin. She was by the Bouchercon World Mystery Convention as its Historical Mystery Guest of Honor in 2024.
Her eagerly-anticipated next novel, THE RECKONING, is a thriller set in California's "Emerald Triangle" in 1985, and features the debut of new series character Renata Drake. THE RECKONING will publish in the US and UK on January 6, 2026, from Severn House.
Kelli holds a Master's Degree in Classics, and when she's not reading or writing, loves nature walks, jazz, classic film, travel, and, with her spouse, taking care of their two rescue cats. She's also honored to have served as faculty for the famed Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference for many years.
For more more information about Kelli and her work—including interactive, multimedia maps, videos, photos and ephemera—please visit her website at www.kellistanley.com.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 146 reviews
January 6, 2026
Okay, so Mom raised me with the "If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all."
"You're a cold-hearted bitch, Miranda."
She leaned forward, "And you're a hypocritical motherfucker, Phil."
But, guess what? Mama ain't here no more.
Buckle your seat-belts - things are about to get ranty.
To limit my novel of a review, I will only talk about the Main Character, the Weird Racism and the Smoking.
The Main Character - aka what an absolute b*tch
I rarely (rarely) hate a main character but Miranda is an exception (and can I mention how horribly disappointing it is that my own namesake is the main character?).
Miranda Corbie is the hard-nosed female detective with a chip the size of Antarctica on her shoulder.
The author spent so much time building up Miranda's reputation and attitude that she comes off as extremely abrasive, bitter, and unlikable.
I like a gruff non-nonsense detective as much as the next person but this ridiculous.
Miranda's the kind of person who will get her way, no matter what, and if you suggest (even for a minute) that she's not right - F*CK. YOU. I HAVE A TRAGIC PAST. (Oh, and did I mention f*ckkkkkkkk youuuuuuuu?)
Case-and-point - one of Miranda's friends (informers?) shows up dead and the police are beginning to figure out motive, etc.
Miranda is able to worm her way into the investigation, where this charming conversation happens:
It's just absolutely exhausting to have to read about someone who so consistently and constantly rants and raves to every little thing.
"Looks like she had intercourse shortly before she was killed, can't tell it was consensual."
"Betty was a friend of mine and you're telling me you can't tell if she was raped because she was a whore. So maybe you can tell me why the fuck I should even bother with you anymore."
Yes, Miranda, your friend died and you are feeling a lot of emotions. BUT she was (quite literally) a whore, and how exactly were the police supposed to know that **this time** was rape?
There aren't any signs of struggle - it could very well just have been a client "innocently" visiting her prior to the death.
(Miranda knows, because of her super-duper PI instincts (Obviously)).
This wouldn't be so bad if it made sense - I love a well-deserved and self-righteous rant -but no, the whole book consisted of Miranda absolutely going into it with people - tearing them a new one over the littlest things - and then she'll ask for a favor and they're like, sure thing!
Case-and-point - the conversation she had about her "whore" friend was with the detective, who let her into the investigation as a special favor. Then she treats him like dirt as a thank you.
The only detective-work (if you can even call it that) consisted of Miranda blundering and bullying.
Beyond annoying.
The Weird Racism - aka, am I racist for wanting the book to be more racist??
Now, before people light their pitchforks, allow me to the set the seen.
It is 1940s San Francisco - the world is rife with highs and lows, riches and poverty, racism and more racism (the one thing I cannot fault this book on is its unapologetic depiction of the times).
Everywhere Miranda looks there is racism and sexism - from the detectives treating her like dirt to the Chinese and the Japanese going at it.
BUT the ONLY one who is NOT racist is the Main Character(TM) - she is literally above it all.
I wouldn't have minded it so much if there was some backstory - perhaps she was raised on the other tracks and has empathy for all classes and races (etc).
But nope.
No background. No explanation. No reason for why her attitudes are completely different from literally everyone she meets.
Just Miranda Corbie being an absolute b*tch (BUT NOT a racist b*tch).
Given how little empathy she shows towards other characters in the book, I can only assume that the author didn't want to risk making her MC "unlikable" by giving her a period-appropiate attitude.
It would be simpler to just to take racism out of the picture than have Miranda deal with and evolve.
The Cigarettes - aka ohmygod, your poor lungs.
This one was more of a reoccurring annoyance but literally every. single. page. Miranda was taking a drag.
I literally think that cigarette (or Chesterfield as the book calls them) was the most popular word in the entire book.
There's one thing about establishing substance abuse problems, and there's another when you are leaning on it for the word count.
Audiobook Comments
The only things I can't fault this book for is its extremely well-researched setting and solid audiobook. Audiobook was surprisingly well-done - great tone and inflection.
The Finer Books Club - 2018 Reading Challenge - A book with a character that has your name
YouTube | Blog | Instagram | Twitter | Facebook | Snapchat @miranda_reads
January 12, 2015
City of Dragons reminds me of the Italian cars of my youth -- beautiful to look at, but mechanically challenged to the point where you grit your teeth every time you turn the key.
The central character of this neo-hard-boiled tale -- it's hard to think of her as a heroine -- is Miranda Corbie, an über-hard-bitten female P.I. in what was then still the straight-white-male playground of 1940 San Francisco. She becomes involved almost by accident in an investigation no one wants her to pursue (natch) that leads her through the city's expansive seamy underbelly (natch) to plumb the depths of the toxic racial and sexual politics of the time.
Author Stanley's descriptions of time and place are evocative and atmospheric; the weather becomes almost another character. I grew up in the Bay Area and went on many an expedition to The City back when no one asked "which one?" (sorry, San Jose, it ain't you), remember the City of Paris department store from when it was still called that, and read Herb Caen's column in the Chron. The author nailed the place. She also manages to come up with new similes to paint these pictures, no mean feat given how often San Francisco has been plowed over in literature high and low. The details of everyday life come across as strongly as they do in Alan Furst's work -- the streetcar fares, the café menus, the ads in the now-defunct papers, the telephone exchanges, the programs on the radio. The world in which Miranda lives is a vividly furnished one.
Same, too, for the characters. You won't have to work hard to know what each of them -- even many of the minor ones -- look like or to hear how they speak. And because it's San Francisco, it's a United Nations cast, with virtually every race, creed, color and social condition represented. A great deal of the book takes place in fabled Chinatown and less-well-known Little Osaka (forerunner of today's Japantown) and observes well the various social and economic fractures between communities the city's majority saw as a monolithic "Oriental" bloc. Most of the characters exhibit the prevailing social attitudes of the day, meaning that if you're sensitive to non-stop race baiting and sexual harassment, look elsewhere.
So far, so good. Unfortunately, like those beautiful old Italian cars with unreliable engines, the major problem with this novel lies at its heart -- Miranda.
Miranda is the very definition of "tough broad." Mid-thirties physically and about 105 emotionally, she hates pretty much everything and everybody except, perhaps, cigarettes, cheap booze and children. She has the complicated past required for a hard-boiled detective -- a less-than-ideal upbringing, a lost love in the Spanish Civil War, a stint as an escort -- and she faces relentless hostility from the period-correct corrupt, brutal, racist, homophobic and misogynistic SFPD. Okay, we get that. What's harder to accept -- and becomes seriously wearing the farther you get though the story -- is her equally relentless hostility to nearly everyone, especially people who put themselves to great trouble (and sometimes no little risk) to help her out. Miranda would have been dead or imprisoned multiple times during the plot without the intercession of various allies (including a newspaper reporter and sympathetic police detective); she repays them with scorn, insults, and sometimes the bum's rush. Yet they still come back. Seriously? If I come running to your aid after a 1 a.m. call and you abuse me, I'm going to be busy next time you call, and every time after.
This isn't an issue just because she's a she; it would be equally hard to accept from a male character, and just as tiresome. Even though Marlowe and Spade were tough cookies and smartasses, they managed to maintain useful professional relationships. Whether Milton or Miranda, you'll constantly be wondering why anyone does anything for M. Corbie.
Other reviewers mention Miranda's twin substance-abuse problems. She's a multiple-pack-a-day nicotine fiend and borderline alcoholic. This wasn't unusual for those days -- remember, cigarette ads still featured supposed doctors claiming their brand was healthier than others. However, the author makes us fully aware of nearly every coffin nail Miranda stains with her lipstick, and the Treasure Island ashtray on her desk gets more page time than some of the human characters. She also lives on cheap booze, and we hear about nearly every bottle and flask. Note to author: once you set up a character's habit, you don't need to keep hitting us with it on every other page.
City of Dragons is a prime example of mood and atmosphere done well, sabotaged by a central character that does all she can to repel you (and everyone else). There's another Miranda Corbie tale out there if you're not tired of being slapped around by her. Maybe she's mellowed...but somehow, I doubt it. Too bad.
The central character of this neo-hard-boiled tale -- it's hard to think of her as a heroine -- is Miranda Corbie, an über-hard-bitten female P.I. in what was then still the straight-white-male playground of 1940 San Francisco. She becomes involved almost by accident in an investigation no one wants her to pursue (natch) that leads her through the city's expansive seamy underbelly (natch) to plumb the depths of the toxic racial and sexual politics of the time.
Author Stanley's descriptions of time and place are evocative and atmospheric; the weather becomes almost another character. I grew up in the Bay Area and went on many an expedition to The City back when no one asked "which one?" (sorry, San Jose, it ain't you), remember the City of Paris department store from when it was still called that, and read Herb Caen's column in the Chron. The author nailed the place. She also manages to come up with new similes to paint these pictures, no mean feat given how often San Francisco has been plowed over in literature high and low. The details of everyday life come across as strongly as they do in Alan Furst's work -- the streetcar fares, the café menus, the ads in the now-defunct papers, the telephone exchanges, the programs on the radio. The world in which Miranda lives is a vividly furnished one.
Same, too, for the characters. You won't have to work hard to know what each of them -- even many of the minor ones -- look like or to hear how they speak. And because it's San Francisco, it's a United Nations cast, with virtually every race, creed, color and social condition represented. A great deal of the book takes place in fabled Chinatown and less-well-known Little Osaka (forerunner of today's Japantown) and observes well the various social and economic fractures between communities the city's majority saw as a monolithic "Oriental" bloc. Most of the characters exhibit the prevailing social attitudes of the day, meaning that if you're sensitive to non-stop race baiting and sexual harassment, look elsewhere.
So far, so good. Unfortunately, like those beautiful old Italian cars with unreliable engines, the major problem with this novel lies at its heart -- Miranda.
Miranda is the very definition of "tough broad." Mid-thirties physically and about 105 emotionally, she hates pretty much everything and everybody except, perhaps, cigarettes, cheap booze and children. She has the complicated past required for a hard-boiled detective -- a less-than-ideal upbringing, a lost love in the Spanish Civil War, a stint as an escort -- and she faces relentless hostility from the period-correct corrupt, brutal, racist, homophobic and misogynistic SFPD. Okay, we get that. What's harder to accept -- and becomes seriously wearing the farther you get though the story -- is her equally relentless hostility to nearly everyone, especially people who put themselves to great trouble (and sometimes no little risk) to help her out. Miranda would have been dead or imprisoned multiple times during the plot without the intercession of various allies (including a newspaper reporter and sympathetic police detective); she repays them with scorn, insults, and sometimes the bum's rush. Yet they still come back. Seriously? If I come running to your aid after a 1 a.m. call and you abuse me, I'm going to be busy next time you call, and every time after.
This isn't an issue just because she's a she; it would be equally hard to accept from a male character, and just as tiresome. Even though Marlowe and Spade were tough cookies and smartasses, they managed to maintain useful professional relationships. Whether Milton or Miranda, you'll constantly be wondering why anyone does anything for M. Corbie.
Other reviewers mention Miranda's twin substance-abuse problems. She's a multiple-pack-a-day nicotine fiend and borderline alcoholic. This wasn't unusual for those days -- remember, cigarette ads still featured supposed doctors claiming their brand was healthier than others. However, the author makes us fully aware of nearly every coffin nail Miranda stains with her lipstick, and the Treasure Island ashtray on her desk gets more page time than some of the human characters. She also lives on cheap booze, and we hear about nearly every bottle and flask. Note to author: once you set up a character's habit, you don't need to keep hitting us with it on every other page.
City of Dragons is a prime example of mood and atmosphere done well, sabotaged by a central character that does all she can to repel you (and everyone else). There's another Miranda Corbie tale out there if you're not tired of being slapped around by her. Maybe she's mellowed...but somehow, I doubt it. Too bad.
May 3, 2018
A tough book to review. Many of the other reviewers have expressed my feelings about this book. Kelli Stanley did her homework on 1940 San Francisco. By the time I finished the book (which I finally did after putting it down several times) I honestly felt like I knew what it would have been like to live in that time and place. She also gets a lot of the elements of a hard-boiled detective story right as well. The problem is an unsympathetic heroine. Maybe it's too much to expect but I don't remember having to work hard to find Philip Marlowe quite sympathetic and even honorable. Miranda Corbie just comes off as bitter. My reaction to fictional characters who as this way is much the same as it is to real people: what's your problem? She's got her wounds and disappointments but I got tired of them after a while. To top it all, she must smell like an ashtray as she constantly lights up a fresh butt throughout the story - I understand people smoked a lot more then but this feels like trying too hard to show how it once was.Maybe Stanley corrected some of these flaws and allowed Miranda to focus more on helping clients than her own problems but this was a sad waste of a unique idea for a series detective.
June 5, 2010
Kelli Stanley tries very hard to make City of Dragons a hardboiled mystery in the tradition of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. The problem is, the story is based around a colossal cop-out.
It's set in San Francisco of 1940, an era of racism, sexism, homophobia, and all the other nastiness that used to be an accepted part of our culture.
Now, there are several ways for an author to deal with such a period. One is the honest approach of James Ellroy -- acknowledge that your characters are all bigoted jerks, even the supposed liberals who support the civil rights movement. But having such blatantly hateful characters is a turn-off to many readers, so most authors take the alternate route of just ignoring the nasty parts of history. Sure, they might throw in details indicating that things aren't as peachy as they seem, but they avoid having characters deal with any of the ookier aspects of society. This is certainly a cop-out, but it's not unreasonable -- many novels of the period did the same thing. If the author's focus is on the story or characters and not the socio-political problems of the era, it's okay to do this.
But Stanley tries to have it both ways. Her version of San Francisco, 1940 is full of racial strife. Whites look down on blacks, Asians, Mexicans, and even people from the swarthier parts of Europe. The Chinese hate the Japanese and vice versa. Women who get out of line are all considered whores or sluts. That's all realistically done. But her central character, Miranda Corbie, is none of that. She was a nurse in Spain. She's an ex-prostitute who sympathizes with her former coworkers. She gets along with homosexuals. She's upset by the treatment of Jews in Europe. She cares about the Rape of Nanking. She even opposes those who mistreat Japanese-Americans for what their relatives are doing across the sea.
In short, Miranda is a completely modern character who's been transported back to the 1940s. There's not even a minimal attempt to explain why she doesn't share the prejudices of the time -- we're just supposed to accept her anachronistic world-view. This allows Stanley to portray the world as realistically bigoted, while winking at the reader and saying, "Weren't these people awful," like a kinda Mary Sue who's there so the reader doesn't have to sympathize with a realistically unpleasant character.
That's just the biggest problem I had with the book, but there are several others.
For one, Miranda is a chain smoker. Nothing wrong with that in a character. But Stanley feels a need to inform us every time Miranda lights up, which is on average once per page. And it's hardly ever, "She lit a cigarette." No. It's "She lit a Chesterfield," except for a brief period when she has a pack from a different brand. I swear, "Chesterfield" probably occurs in the text more often than "Miranda." An editor could easily have removed two-thirds the references to her smoking, and Miranda still would've come off as a chimney.
In an afterword, Stanley discusses how much research she did for the book -- every phone number, every address, every business mentioned in the story, she claims, existed in 1940. If an author is going to claim that level of research, it would do not to have any obvious mistakes in the text. Like, oh, referring to a gun as a "22 millimeter." Okay, 22 mm is just about one inch -- that's a bullet twice as wide as what a .50 callibre machine gun fires. What she meant is a .22 callibre gun, which fires a bullet about 6 millimeters. I've never even touched a gun, and I know that.
This is one of the worst books that I've ever read all the way to the end.
It's set in San Francisco of 1940, an era of racism, sexism, homophobia, and all the other nastiness that used to be an accepted part of our culture.
Now, there are several ways for an author to deal with such a period. One is the honest approach of James Ellroy -- acknowledge that your characters are all bigoted jerks, even the supposed liberals who support the civil rights movement. But having such blatantly hateful characters is a turn-off to many readers, so most authors take the alternate route of just ignoring the nasty parts of history. Sure, they might throw in details indicating that things aren't as peachy as they seem, but they avoid having characters deal with any of the ookier aspects of society. This is certainly a cop-out, but it's not unreasonable -- many novels of the period did the same thing. If the author's focus is on the story or characters and not the socio-political problems of the era, it's okay to do this.
But Stanley tries to have it both ways. Her version of San Francisco, 1940 is full of racial strife. Whites look down on blacks, Asians, Mexicans, and even people from the swarthier parts of Europe. The Chinese hate the Japanese and vice versa. Women who get out of line are all considered whores or sluts. That's all realistically done. But her central character, Miranda Corbie, is none of that. She was a nurse in Spain. She's an ex-prostitute who sympathizes with her former coworkers. She gets along with homosexuals. She's upset by the treatment of Jews in Europe. She cares about the Rape of Nanking. She even opposes those who mistreat Japanese-Americans for what their relatives are doing across the sea.
In short, Miranda is a completely modern character who's been transported back to the 1940s. There's not even a minimal attempt to explain why she doesn't share the prejudices of the time -- we're just supposed to accept her anachronistic world-view. This allows Stanley to portray the world as realistically bigoted, while winking at the reader and saying, "Weren't these people awful," like a kinda Mary Sue who's there so the reader doesn't have to sympathize with a realistically unpleasant character.
That's just the biggest problem I had with the book, but there are several others.
For one, Miranda is a chain smoker. Nothing wrong with that in a character. But Stanley feels a need to inform us every time Miranda lights up, which is on average once per page. And it's hardly ever, "She lit a cigarette." No. It's "She lit a Chesterfield," except for a brief period when she has a pack from a different brand. I swear, "Chesterfield" probably occurs in the text more often than "Miranda." An editor could easily have removed two-thirds the references to her smoking, and Miranda still would've come off as a chimney.
In an afterword, Stanley discusses how much research she did for the book -- every phone number, every address, every business mentioned in the story, she claims, existed in 1940. If an author is going to claim that level of research, it would do not to have any obvious mistakes in the text. Like, oh, referring to a gun as a "22 millimeter." Okay, 22 mm is just about one inch -- that's a bullet twice as wide as what a .50 callibre machine gun fires. What she meant is a .22 callibre gun, which fires a bullet about 6 millimeters. I've never even touched a gun, and I know that.
This is one of the worst books that I've ever read all the way to the end.
October 29, 2010
Couldn't wait to finish this book so that I could move on to something else.
January 14, 2011
The last mystery of 2010 and my first mystery of 2011 share two things: they’re historical and both make me think they bought their accolades. Still, this one makes the other look like a 5 star gem.
This is set in San Fran in 1940 which should be a fabulous background and well, since I like to say something positive in every review, there you go. The historical setting is well done. The rest of it was one of the worst things I’ve read in a long time. I don’t even know where to begin (and I see several other goodreaders have already said many of them)
Firstly the style of this was just awful. I think it was designed to give Miranda Corbie, our heroine, a Sam Spade hard boiled feel. All it is, is a staccato burst of sentence fragments that would make a writing professor weep. Once in a while this would be affective but to have this going on for pages is nothing short of annoying. ExampleShe didn’t need Phil. Or Rick. Or her washed-up drowned-out father. Didn’t need anyone. Would never need anyone again. Imagine this for hundreds of pages.
I might have gotten past this if Miranda was interesting. She’s miserable I haven’t loathed a character this much in ages. She’s supposed to be a tough woman on her own. Her former madam said it right. She’s an ungrateful little bitch. She treats everyone like shit. I am stunned that either Rick, the reporter or Gonzales the homicide detective would even want to help her. She does nothing but treat them like idiots who are only there to be used.
Miranda is supposed to be broken. She was a nurse during the Spanish civil war where she lost Johnny. Apparently her one true love. She responds by becoming an escort then finally a detective (there was a book before this one I guess). Okay, broken people can be interesting but they are tough to write, tough to make the reader care about and there is no caring about Miranda. She is just so miserable and nasty. We have to listen to her whine about Johnny and how all other men are douches so long that I’m sure we could cut 50 pages out of this just by removing all the excess Johnny angst and another 20 if we cut out every time Miranda says the F word or lights up a cigarette.
Even the mystery itself is bad. Eddie Takahashi is gunned down in front of her during a Rice Bowl (a charity to raise money for China, keeping in mind this is the time period where Japan is invading it and doing pretty horrible things). Eddie’s sister Emily is missing. No one asks Miranda to take the case. She’s warned off but presumably she’s taking this one because she witnesses it. Later she’s hired by Mrs. Winters to prove her husband was killed and didn’t die of a heart attack.
Eventually both cases tie together (I don’t think Mrs. Winters knew they would unless I skimmed over it) which is a ridiculous coincidence in a town the size of San Fran. Miranda, using and abusing everyone along the way finds out it’s all tied into the various mobs (Chinese and Italian), human trafficking and drugs. The ending was so unrealistic I was laughing and the actual killer, yeah you had no clues to figure out the motive here, not really.
This is an unlikeable mess. I couldn’t root for Miranda. I was rooting for the mobsters. I nearly tossed the book twice when she pulls a gun on a cop (twice) with little reason and no repercussions. I didn’t care about her. I finished this because I paid for it. I usually share my historical mysteries with friends and family who love them. They won’t be seeing this.
This is set in San Fran in 1940 which should be a fabulous background and well, since I like to say something positive in every review, there you go. The historical setting is well done. The rest of it was one of the worst things I’ve read in a long time. I don’t even know where to begin (and I see several other goodreaders have already said many of them)
Firstly the style of this was just awful. I think it was designed to give Miranda Corbie, our heroine, a Sam Spade hard boiled feel. All it is, is a staccato burst of sentence fragments that would make a writing professor weep. Once in a while this would be affective but to have this going on for pages is nothing short of annoying. ExampleShe didn’t need Phil. Or Rick. Or her washed-up drowned-out father. Didn’t need anyone. Would never need anyone again. Imagine this for hundreds of pages.
I might have gotten past this if Miranda was interesting. She’s miserable I haven’t loathed a character this much in ages. She’s supposed to be a tough woman on her own. Her former madam said it right. She’s an ungrateful little bitch. She treats everyone like shit. I am stunned that either Rick, the reporter or Gonzales the homicide detective would even want to help her. She does nothing but treat them like idiots who are only there to be used.
Miranda is supposed to be broken. She was a nurse during the Spanish civil war where she lost Johnny. Apparently her one true love. She responds by becoming an escort then finally a detective (there was a book before this one I guess). Okay, broken people can be interesting but they are tough to write, tough to make the reader care about and there is no caring about Miranda. She is just so miserable and nasty. We have to listen to her whine about Johnny and how all other men are douches so long that I’m sure we could cut 50 pages out of this just by removing all the excess Johnny angst and another 20 if we cut out every time Miranda says the F word or lights up a cigarette.
Even the mystery itself is bad. Eddie Takahashi is gunned down in front of her during a Rice Bowl (a charity to raise money for China, keeping in mind this is the time period where Japan is invading it and doing pretty horrible things). Eddie’s sister Emily is missing. No one asks Miranda to take the case. She’s warned off but presumably she’s taking this one because she witnesses it. Later she’s hired by Mrs. Winters to prove her husband was killed and didn’t die of a heart attack.
Eventually both cases tie together (I don’t think Mrs. Winters knew they would unless I skimmed over it) which is a ridiculous coincidence in a town the size of San Fran. Miranda, using and abusing everyone along the way finds out it’s all tied into the various mobs (Chinese and Italian), human trafficking and drugs. The ending was so unrealistic I was laughing and the actual killer, yeah you had no clues to figure out the motive here, not really.
This is an unlikeable mess. I couldn’t root for Miranda. I was rooting for the mobsters. I nearly tossed the book twice when she pulls a gun on a cop (twice) with little reason and no repercussions. I didn’t care about her. I finished this because I paid for it. I usually share my historical mysteries with friends and family who love them. They won’t be seeing this.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 4, 2010
PROTAGONIST: Miranda Corbie, PI
SETTING: 1940 San Francisco
SERIES: #1
RATING: 2.75
When I picked up this book, I thought the concept was an interesting one, featuring a hard-as-nails female who’s been through a lot of tough times and who is now in the PI game. Set in 1940, you could almost see Miranda Corbie tossing back a shot with some of the other fictional PIs of the era.
But Stanley took Miranda too far on the “hard” side, which resulted in a lead character who was very unlikable. Only thirty-three years old, Miranda is an embittered woman who possesses no humor. Any feeling that she shows towards others seems forced. She certainly exhibits no warmth to the people who care about her.
Although Stanley did a great job of establishing the setting, I wondered how accurate her portrayal of the times was. For example, she uses the “f” word liberally throughout the book. Was this a word that was used that frequently during that time period? It really threw me out of the narrative when she used expressions such as “flying f**k”—was that really an expression that was used during that time?
The real issue I had with the book was Miranda’s smoking. That sounds like a trivial complaint, but it was the fact that smoking was mentioned on just about every other page. After a while, it was like nails on a chalkboard. I believe that at least ten percent of the word count dealt with the lighting and extinguishing of cigarettes.
On the plus side, Stanley does an extraordinary job of describing the settings throughout the narrative. She has a gift for making each scene come alive—there’s a pulsating sense of energy throughout. All my senses were engaged—I could see, taste and smell the location that she so ably depicted. Truthfully, that is what kept the book from being a “did not finish” for me. The protagonist was such an unsympathetic character and the noir clichés such as smoking and drinking were laid on so thick that I found reading the book a bit of a struggle.
SETTING: 1940 San Francisco
SERIES: #1
RATING: 2.75
When I picked up this book, I thought the concept was an interesting one, featuring a hard-as-nails female who’s been through a lot of tough times and who is now in the PI game. Set in 1940, you could almost see Miranda Corbie tossing back a shot with some of the other fictional PIs of the era.
But Stanley took Miranda too far on the “hard” side, which resulted in a lead character who was very unlikable. Only thirty-three years old, Miranda is an embittered woman who possesses no humor. Any feeling that she shows towards others seems forced. She certainly exhibits no warmth to the people who care about her.
Although Stanley did a great job of establishing the setting, I wondered how accurate her portrayal of the times was. For example, she uses the “f” word liberally throughout the book. Was this a word that was used that frequently during that time period? It really threw me out of the narrative when she used expressions such as “flying f**k”—was that really an expression that was used during that time?
The real issue I had with the book was Miranda’s smoking. That sounds like a trivial complaint, but it was the fact that smoking was mentioned on just about every other page. After a while, it was like nails on a chalkboard. I believe that at least ten percent of the word count dealt with the lighting and extinguishing of cigarettes.
On the plus side, Stanley does an extraordinary job of describing the settings throughout the narrative. She has a gift for making each scene come alive—there’s a pulsating sense of energy throughout. All my senses were engaged—I could see, taste and smell the location that she so ably depicted. Truthfully, that is what kept the book from being a “did not finish” for me. The protagonist was such an unsympathetic character and the noir clichés such as smoking and drinking were laid on so thick that I found reading the book a bit of a struggle.
September 3, 2016
A brand new pre-WWII noir written with a masterful hand, and the women are actual people, not just "blonde broads." History is also meticulously researched. Highly recommended!
November 2, 2011
This historical mystery/classic noir P.I. tale is a prime example of one of the hardest books for me to review: a book whose technical brilliance is obvious, but it contains things that I just don't like. The only thing I can do is talk about the good stuff, itemize what I didn't care for, and let you make the ultimate decision on whether or not you want to read the book-- which is something you do anyway.
Under author Kelli Stanley's pen, the San Francisco of the 1940s -- in particular the Chinatown and Little Osaka neighborhoods-- comes to life and should be considered one of the primary characters. It is a wonderful evocation of a time and a place that I greatly enjoyed.
While reading City of Dragons, you will also feel as though you've stepped right into the pages of a classic noir private investigator tale. In my "mind's ear," I heard Stanley's characters speak in voices that were eerily akin to those of Humphrey Bogart, George Raft, Sidney Greenstreet, and Peter Lorre. This book is dark and twisted, make no mistake, and deducing the whys and wherefores led me on quite the chase. For anyone who loves this sort of book, I highly recommend it.
With all that's oh-so-right about the book, there were a few things that became very wearing to me as I read. True to the period, everyone and their brother smokes-- and to such an excess that cigarette smoke should rise from the pages each time the book is opened. I'm not the type of person who's vehemently anti-smoking, and characters who smoke-- as a rule-- don't bother me, but this book was an exception.
In order to get to know the main character, Miranda Corbie, you'll be forced to wave endless nicotine clouds from your face and prepare yourself to endure quite a bit of negativity and bitterness. True to the noir heart, Miranda is a tragically wounded hero. Her disillusionment escalated when she participated in the Spanish Civil War and continued when she returned to America and worked as an escort. Her first taste of life as a private investigator was working with someone who handled divorce cases-- and that's just the tip of Miranda's iceberg. Miranda has seen too much of the dark side, and it has deeply affected not only her outlook on life, but other aspects such as her speech. As someone tells her, "Watch your mouth. You talk like a sailor, not a professor's daughter." Having grown up among sailors and farmers, I'm accustomed to profanity and scatological references, but too much from anyone and I begin tuning them out. Not a good thing for conversation or for novel reading.
As I read City of Dragons, I found myself enjoying its depiction of San Francisco and its evocation of the 1940s and classic noir. But the more I read, the less I liked Miranda until she became a true liability. It's a shame, but I doubt that I'll continue with the series, and I'll admit that my decision is purely due to personal taste. However, if secondhand smoke and an embittered, much too serious main character don't bother you, you should be in for a real treat.
Under author Kelli Stanley's pen, the San Francisco of the 1940s -- in particular the Chinatown and Little Osaka neighborhoods-- comes to life and should be considered one of the primary characters. It is a wonderful evocation of a time and a place that I greatly enjoyed.
While reading City of Dragons, you will also feel as though you've stepped right into the pages of a classic noir private investigator tale. In my "mind's ear," I heard Stanley's characters speak in voices that were eerily akin to those of Humphrey Bogart, George Raft, Sidney Greenstreet, and Peter Lorre. This book is dark and twisted, make no mistake, and deducing the whys and wherefores led me on quite the chase. For anyone who loves this sort of book, I highly recommend it.
With all that's oh-so-right about the book, there were a few things that became very wearing to me as I read. True to the period, everyone and their brother smokes-- and to such an excess that cigarette smoke should rise from the pages each time the book is opened. I'm not the type of person who's vehemently anti-smoking, and characters who smoke-- as a rule-- don't bother me, but this book was an exception.
In order to get to know the main character, Miranda Corbie, you'll be forced to wave endless nicotine clouds from your face and prepare yourself to endure quite a bit of negativity and bitterness. True to the noir heart, Miranda is a tragically wounded hero. Her disillusionment escalated when she participated in the Spanish Civil War and continued when she returned to America and worked as an escort. Her first taste of life as a private investigator was working with someone who handled divorce cases-- and that's just the tip of Miranda's iceberg. Miranda has seen too much of the dark side, and it has deeply affected not only her outlook on life, but other aspects such as her speech. As someone tells her, "Watch your mouth. You talk like a sailor, not a professor's daughter." Having grown up among sailors and farmers, I'm accustomed to profanity and scatological references, but too much from anyone and I begin tuning them out. Not a good thing for conversation or for novel reading.
As I read City of Dragons, I found myself enjoying its depiction of San Francisco and its evocation of the 1940s and classic noir. But the more I read, the less I liked Miranda until she became a true liability. It's a shame, but I doubt that I'll continue with the series, and I'll admit that my decision is purely due to personal taste. However, if secondhand smoke and an embittered, much too serious main character don't bother you, you should be in for a real treat.
March 4, 2010
There were a number of things I really liked a lot about the book. The author's attention to historical detail in particular was phenomenal; it's one of the best-researched novels I think I've ever read. She also does a great job with time & place. The plot is nicely complex but logical. I loved the main character. I could easily envision a young Lauren Bacall in the role, and the whole thing read like the script of a 1940s film noir.
On the negative side is first that it took me a long time to adjust to the writing style. The author writes in clipped, four or five word sentences, and uses frequent one-sentence paragraphs, which for me was pretty annoying for the first 100 pages or so. As hard-boiled detective fiction, one expects a certain overblown style, but at times the narrative gets awfully close to parody. Nearly every page contains a reference to cigarettes/smoking/smoke, and every other page mentions booze/drinking. That, too, got old after awhile. It's almost like it was the second novel in a series, as it contained many references to previous events and relationships that were never fully explained. Granted, it's a way to set up for sequels, but it was used FAR too often in this case. Finally, some of the characters were nothing but caricatures.
Overall, I liked it quite a lot in spite of its negatives. I guess I'd recommend it for those who like hardboiled detective fiction, and who are willing to lose themselves in a plot without being too concerned about writing quality.
On the negative side is first that it took me a long time to adjust to the writing style. The author writes in clipped, four or five word sentences, and uses frequent one-sentence paragraphs, which for me was pretty annoying for the first 100 pages or so. As hard-boiled detective fiction, one expects a certain overblown style, but at times the narrative gets awfully close to parody. Nearly every page contains a reference to cigarettes/smoking/smoke, and every other page mentions booze/drinking. That, too, got old after awhile. It's almost like it was the second novel in a series, as it contained many references to previous events and relationships that were never fully explained. Granted, it's a way to set up for sequels, but it was used FAR too often in this case. Finally, some of the characters were nothing but caricatures.
Overall, I liked it quite a lot in spite of its negatives. I guess I'd recommend it for those who like hardboiled detective fiction, and who are willing to lose themselves in a plot without being too concerned about writing quality.
May 19, 2010
Miranda Corbie is a private investigator in San Francisco, 1940.
It's Chinese New Year, and in celebration, the city is having a three-night-long "Rice Bowl Party" to raise money for war relief in China.
In the midst of the festivities, Miranda watches as a young Japanese numbers runner named Eddie Takahashi is killed in front of her. Certain that it's a murder rather than accidental, she informs the police, who don't believe her.
She decides to find Eddie's killer on her own, since she is qualified after all! The next day, she's offered a real, paying case: find a missing young woman for her stepmother.
These two cases intersect, and Miranda soon finds herself being followed by sinister men and dark automobiles, one of which runs her down. Stubbornly, and despite being thwarted by the police, the Italian AND Japanese syndicates, and many of those she thought were her friends, she persists in the quest that leads her through much of San Francisco and its Chinatown.
Stanley's novel is a love letter to San Francisco, with rich and well-researched historical descriptions. The book is also an ode to classic noir mysteries, and is a pleasure to read. I was almost happy that it was a busy week and I was forced to read in short bursts, so that the book took longer than usual to finish.
Miranda will be back in another San Francisco mystery, which I await eagerly.
It's Chinese New Year, and in celebration, the city is having a three-night-long "Rice Bowl Party" to raise money for war relief in China.
In the midst of the festivities, Miranda watches as a young Japanese numbers runner named Eddie Takahashi is killed in front of her. Certain that it's a murder rather than accidental, she informs the police, who don't believe her.
She decides to find Eddie's killer on her own, since she is qualified after all! The next day, she's offered a real, paying case: find a missing young woman for her stepmother.
These two cases intersect, and Miranda soon finds herself being followed by sinister men and dark automobiles, one of which runs her down. Stubbornly, and despite being thwarted by the police, the Italian AND Japanese syndicates, and many of those she thought were her friends, she persists in the quest that leads her through much of San Francisco and its Chinatown.
Stanley's novel is a love letter to San Francisco, with rich and well-researched historical descriptions. The book is also an ode to classic noir mysteries, and is a pleasure to read. I was almost happy that it was a busy week and I was forced to read in short bursts, so that the book took longer than usual to finish.
Miranda will be back in another San Francisco mystery, which I await eagerly.
February 19, 2010
The year is 1940 in San Francisco.
Private investigator Miranda Corbie is attending the Rice Bowl in Chinatown. It is an event that celebrates the Chinese New Year. While attending, Miranda stumbles upon a body. The victim is identified as Eddie Takahashi. He was no good. The cops don’t really have an interest in the case and close it. Miranda is the only one, who is out to seek the truth about Eddie’s murder. Miranda better watch her back as the police may not be interested but someone is and they don’t like Miranda sticking her nose in places where it doesn’t belong.
City of Dragons is a really good book. I started this book right before bed, which was a bad idea as I couldn’t stop reading it. Miranda is a hard core, nose to the grind, blood hound, who doesn’t give up till the case is solved. There were plenty of twists and turns to keep the mystery fan in my happy. All of the characters that Miranda encountered were intriguing as well as engaging. You could tell how much research and hard work the author did on Chinatown and what the place looked like back in the forties. It was like I could see everything through Miranda’s eyes from…the vivid colors of the buildings to the smell of rotten beer and cigarettes. I only have one last comment to make and that is…I want more Kelli Stanley.
Private investigator Miranda Corbie is attending the Rice Bowl in Chinatown. It is an event that celebrates the Chinese New Year. While attending, Miranda stumbles upon a body. The victim is identified as Eddie Takahashi. He was no good. The cops don’t really have an interest in the case and close it. Miranda is the only one, who is out to seek the truth about Eddie’s murder. Miranda better watch her back as the police may not be interested but someone is and they don’t like Miranda sticking her nose in places where it doesn’t belong.
City of Dragons is a really good book. I started this book right before bed, which was a bad idea as I couldn’t stop reading it. Miranda is a hard core, nose to the grind, blood hound, who doesn’t give up till the case is solved. There were plenty of twists and turns to keep the mystery fan in my happy. All of the characters that Miranda encountered were intriguing as well as engaging. You could tell how much research and hard work the author did on Chinatown and what the place looked like back in the forties. It was like I could see everything through Miranda’s eyes from…the vivid colors of the buildings to the smell of rotten beer and cigarettes. I only have one last comment to make and that is…I want more Kelli Stanley.
March 31, 2010
It's always great to get some SF noir in the reading pile, and this title only missed by a little. Miranda Corbie is a female PI in 1940 San Francisco, which in and of itself is a stretch for the imagination. She stumbles on a body in Chinatown during a local celebration which draws her into a complicated investigation involving local gangs of all ethnicities: Chinese, Japanese, and even some Italians for fun. The local color and setting is fantastic, but the author gives mannerisms in place of character development. At one point I wanted to laugh at the number of times she describes Miranda lighting a cigarette or drinking a bourbon: we get it - she's badass. The character's backstory is also interesting, but so much is alluded to rather than explained that perhaps a future series installment will give us more of Miranda. I'd give the author another try, as she's definitely one to watch.
February 12, 2010
Kelli Stanley has recreated the streets of San Francisco in the 40s and created a great new character. Enjoyed the book very much.
September 12, 2015
It's 1940, and San Francisco PI Miranda Corbie -- ex-Spanish Civil War fighter (on the side of the goodies), ex-"escort," ex-much else -- is attending a festival in Chinatown when a murdered young Japanese man falls dead at her feet on the sidewalk.Although the cops aren't really interested -- who cares about the death of some petty criminal, especially if he's a slant-eyes, find a scapegoat and fuggeddaboutit -- Miranda wants justice. Soon after, the wealthy Mrs. Helen Winters calls her in to investigate the suspicious death of her husband Lester, another case in which the cops show no interest.
Naturally,, because we're in Chandler territory, the two apparently quite unrelated cases prove to be two aspects of the same one. Before she can bring the affair to a resolution, Miranda will be nearly killed in a hit-and-run, will face death (and worse) at the hands of a hoodlum, will uncover a particularly vicious ring of sex slavers, and much more besides.
Stanley captures the hardboiled voice perfectly and, judging by my extremely limited knowledge, recreates 1940s San Francisco quite brilliantly, with all its ignorance and bigotries as well as, mixed into the melting pot, enlightened folk like Miranda herself, who have no time for things like racism or homophobia. (I've heard criticism of the book on the grounds that Miranda is a Modern Woman plonked into a 75-years-ago environment, but I have no trouble with it; there have always been enlightened people, in every age. It's just that often they're intimidated into silence or at least drowned out by the blowhards, so we tend to remember just the ghastliness of the bigoted mainstream . . . as if the people of the future might assume we were all like Donald Trump.)
All in all, then, I find a huge amount to respect and praise in this book, and I hail it as a very fine achievement. At the same time, I had great difficulty becoming immersed in it: I didn't keep finding excuses to sneak another few pages, the way I do when something's really knocking me out. I'm not 100% sure why this was so, but my best guess, I think, is that Stanley was in a way a victim of her own skilled artistry: as I said, she's captured the 1940s/1950s hardboiled tone superbly, but all the time I was admiring this I was also thinking that, well, her precursors would have tackled a similar complexity of plot in half the length of this really quite long book, or perhaps far less than that, and without any loss of insight or suspense -- in fact, they'd likely have done better on the suspense front since there'd have been far less distance between each bit of tension/action.
Of lesser importance, perhaps, is that the reason Miranda guesses the final piece of the jigsaw is logically utmost baloney -- it's not so much a clue as a piece of magical thinking -- and that, a lot of the time, I had the feeling that I'd have been more interested in reading Miranda's backstory than I was in reading the one in front of me. She's a fascinating character, yet much of her fascination seems to lie somewhere off the page.
So, a highly impressive piece of work that for me somehow fails. I'm sure others will react differently -- indeed, I notice the novel was shortlisted for a whole bunch of major awards -- so this is one where, while it'd be silly for me to recommend it, I'd very much suggest you think to give it a try.
Naturally,, because we're in Chandler territory, the two apparently quite unrelated cases prove to be two aspects of the same one. Before she can bring the affair to a resolution, Miranda will be nearly killed in a hit-and-run, will face death (and worse) at the hands of a hoodlum, will uncover a particularly vicious ring of sex slavers, and much more besides.
Stanley captures the hardboiled voice perfectly and, judging by my extremely limited knowledge, recreates 1940s San Francisco quite brilliantly, with all its ignorance and bigotries as well as, mixed into the melting pot, enlightened folk like Miranda herself, who have no time for things like racism or homophobia. (I've heard criticism of the book on the grounds that Miranda is a Modern Woman plonked into a 75-years-ago environment, but I have no trouble with it; there have always been enlightened people, in every age. It's just that often they're intimidated into silence or at least drowned out by the blowhards, so we tend to remember just the ghastliness of the bigoted mainstream . . . as if the people of the future might assume we were all like Donald Trump.)
All in all, then, I find a huge amount to respect and praise in this book, and I hail it as a very fine achievement. At the same time, I had great difficulty becoming immersed in it: I didn't keep finding excuses to sneak another few pages, the way I do when something's really knocking me out. I'm not 100% sure why this was so, but my best guess, I think, is that Stanley was in a way a victim of her own skilled artistry: as I said, she's captured the 1940s/1950s hardboiled tone superbly, but all the time I was admiring this I was also thinking that, well, her precursors would have tackled a similar complexity of plot in half the length of this really quite long book, or perhaps far less than that, and without any loss of insight or suspense -- in fact, they'd likely have done better on the suspense front since there'd have been far less distance between each bit of tension/action.
Of lesser importance, perhaps, is that the reason Miranda guesses the final piece of the jigsaw is logically utmost baloney -- it's not so much a clue as a piece of magical thinking -- and that, a lot of the time, I had the feeling that I'd have been more interested in reading Miranda's backstory than I was in reading the one in front of me. She's a fascinating character, yet much of her fascination seems to lie somewhere off the page.
So, a highly impressive piece of work that for me somehow fails. I'm sure others will react differently -- indeed, I notice the novel was shortlisted for a whole bunch of major awards -- so this is one where, while it'd be silly for me to recommend it, I'd very much suggest you think to give it a try.
May 9, 2010
Great idea with an amazing, ball busting heroine. Miranda is a private detective in 1940s San Francisco who takes no crap from anybody, even waves a gun in her father's face. Problem is she is also a former escort and I got the impression it is an occupation she still practices from time to time so Miranda does not have the respect of the local police force. They give her grief at every turn as do the local Chinese and Italian gangsters. If the police are not arresting her, the Italians are trying to run her over with their green oldsmobile.
Miranda has three cases going at once that all tie in together somehow. Seems a Chinese lady in a red dress is popping up all over the place. Case one is a dead Japanese man with a cocaine connection. Case two is a missing girl with a cocaine addiction. Case three is a dead friend and former co worker of Miranda's. So Miranda is running all over San Fran doling out one dollar bills in exchange for information to get to the bottom of it all.
I have two major complaints about this novel. Despite the fact it really did feel like authentic 1940s and I realize people smoked constantly back then, on paper it gets VERY ANNOYING. Miranda was lighing, handling, or putting out a cigerette on every page. Also, tho I liked Miranda, I never could understand her. I loved how she broke a fellow's nose after he kissed her (my kind of gal!) but why is Miranda so bitter and angry at the world? She is rude to her friends and anyone that tries to help her. There are references to a Johnny in Spain now dead and the death of Bernett, a former boss and something about incubator babies but the full story and the full reason for Miranda's personal problems is never revealed.
Dianne says to Miranda on page 190, "You're deader than Betty. Who killed you, Miranda? Who the hell killed you?" I am wondering the same thing myself and I didn't really like this enough to read five more books just like it to found out the answers. It's ok, but nothing to get excited about.
Miranda has three cases going at once that all tie in together somehow. Seems a Chinese lady in a red dress is popping up all over the place. Case one is a dead Japanese man with a cocaine connection. Case two is a missing girl with a cocaine addiction. Case three is a dead friend and former co worker of Miranda's. So Miranda is running all over San Fran doling out one dollar bills in exchange for information to get to the bottom of it all.
I have two major complaints about this novel. Despite the fact it really did feel like authentic 1940s and I realize people smoked constantly back then, on paper it gets VERY ANNOYING. Miranda was lighing, handling, or putting out a cigerette on every page. Also, tho I liked Miranda, I never could understand her. I loved how she broke a fellow's nose after he kissed her (my kind of gal!) but why is Miranda so bitter and angry at the world? She is rude to her friends and anyone that tries to help her. There are references to a Johnny in Spain now dead and the death of Bernett, a former boss and something about incubator babies but the full story and the full reason for Miranda's personal problems is never revealed.
Dianne says to Miranda on page 190, "You're deader than Betty. Who killed you, Miranda? Who the hell killed you?" I am wondering the same thing myself and I didn't really like this enough to read five more books just like it to found out the answers. It's ok, but nothing to get excited about.
December 6, 2012
I only made it about 1/3 of the way through this book. It's not that it's terrible - I've muddled through worse. But there were enough things I found grating that I just stopped enjoying this.
For one thing, the protagonist, Miranda, is not a very sympathetic character. She has a nice healthy dose of righteous indignation and the prerequisite stubborn nature for a PI. But beyond that there isn't much to admire. What got me was how she's out-right mean to people who bend over backwards to help her, multiple times.
Another reviewer mentioned how often smoking is mentioned. I don't think a person can stress enough how often the selection, lighting, and stubbing out of a cigarette is described in this book. Miranda is a chain-smoker and the reader has to get a detailed blow-by-blow of every coffin-nail. It's annoying after a bit, and quite unnecessary.
But what annoyed me the most was the constant use of sentence fragments. I want to say that I don't mind these things in moderation. At first, during the initial murder scene, it made a lot of sense and was stylish, stressing the fragmented nature of the things witnessed during a quick, violent act. But those sentence fragments didn't stop there. They were everywhere! Filling up every description of a new scene! Oh, these really got to me. It seems like a little thing, and is certainly a matter of taste, but it made just about every bit unenjoyable to me.
For one thing, the protagonist, Miranda, is not a very sympathetic character. She has a nice healthy dose of righteous indignation and the prerequisite stubborn nature for a PI. But beyond that there isn't much to admire. What got me was how she's out-right mean to people who bend over backwards to help her, multiple times.
Another reviewer mentioned how often smoking is mentioned. I don't think a person can stress enough how often the selection, lighting, and stubbing out of a cigarette is described in this book. Miranda is a chain-smoker and the reader has to get a detailed blow-by-blow of every coffin-nail. It's annoying after a bit, and quite unnecessary.
But what annoyed me the most was the constant use of sentence fragments. I want to say that I don't mind these things in moderation. At first, during the initial murder scene, it made a lot of sense and was stylish, stressing the fragmented nature of the things witnessed during a quick, violent act. But those sentence fragments didn't stop there. They were everywhere! Filling up every description of a new scene! Oh, these really got to me. It seems like a little thing, and is certainly a matter of taste, but it made just about every bit unenjoyable to me.
October 4, 2018
I'm a sucker for pulp sometimes.
Miranda Corbie, PI in 1940 San Francisco, a detective in the mold of Sam Spade, but trading on her face, her legs, and her knowledge of the club and escort scene to handle divorce cases. She's a former escort, former Spanish Civil War nurse, and owes a lot to connections to burlesque dancer Sally Rand.
Most importantly in my mind, she's nobody's damsel in distress. Miranda is a self-destructive, hard-drinking, chain-smoking, emotionally isolated heroine. But she is very adamant that these are her choices, and any of the (several) romantic interests in the book will have to accept that. She will not be rescued, from her own choices, or the mechanations of mob bosses, smugglers, murderers or thieves. I couldn't help but to compare this PI to Janet Evanovich's bounty hunter, Stephanie Plum, who bounces between paramours to rescue her.
There's also a point to be made in how a female PI sees people and information where police homicide detectives see only window-dressing and cardboard cut-outs. I'm still not sure where the title came from and I wish the publisher had found a 1940 picture of Chinatown for the cover instead of an obvious '50's shot. What can you do?
Miranda Corbie, PI in 1940 San Francisco, a detective in the mold of Sam Spade, but trading on her face, her legs, and her knowledge of the club and escort scene to handle divorce cases. She's a former escort, former Spanish Civil War nurse, and owes a lot to connections to burlesque dancer Sally Rand.
Most importantly in my mind, she's nobody's damsel in distress. Miranda is a self-destructive, hard-drinking, chain-smoking, emotionally isolated heroine. But she is very adamant that these are her choices, and any of the (several) romantic interests in the book will have to accept that. She will not be rescued, from her own choices, or the mechanations of mob bosses, smugglers, murderers or thieves. I couldn't help but to compare this PI to Janet Evanovich's bounty hunter, Stephanie Plum, who bounces between paramours to rescue her.
There's also a point to be made in how a female PI sees people and information where police homicide detectives see only window-dressing and cardboard cut-outs. I'm still not sure where the title came from and I wish the publisher had found a 1940 picture of Chinatown for the cover instead of an obvious '50's shot. What can you do?
April 24, 2013
This book has a good concept for setting and protagonist. However, I don't think it's been pulled off well.
Miranda Corbie gets incredibly maudlin at anything that reminds her of "Johnny", and I spent a good third of the book wanting to tell her that she seriously needed better coping mechanisms. Also, at one point she's nearly in tears because she gets called a prostitute. Suck it up, girl, you're playing with the big boys now!
The other big issue I had was the gratuitous use of brand names and even, on occasion, brand slogans. Miranda smokes Chesterfield cigarettes (and smokes like a chimney to boot) because, in her words, "they really satisfy." Which was the advertising slogan for that brand. Ms. Stanley repeatedly mentions the brand of lighter Miranda uses, and the brand of alcohol she drinks. Once or twice would be sufficent, but instead it's hammered into the ground. It got to the point that it was incredibly distracting - like seeing blantant product plugs in a movie.
So, all in all, I don't think I'll be seeking more books by this author.
Miranda Corbie gets incredibly maudlin at anything that reminds her of "Johnny", and I spent a good third of the book wanting to tell her that she seriously needed better coping mechanisms. Also, at one point she's nearly in tears because she gets called a prostitute. Suck it up, girl, you're playing with the big boys now!
The other big issue I had was the gratuitous use of brand names and even, on occasion, brand slogans. Miranda smokes Chesterfield cigarettes (and smokes like a chimney to boot) because, in her words, "they really satisfy." Which was the advertising slogan for that brand. Ms. Stanley repeatedly mentions the brand of lighter Miranda uses, and the brand of alcohol she drinks. Once or twice would be sufficent, but instead it's hammered into the ground. It got to the point that it was incredibly distracting - like seeing blantant product plugs in a movie.
So, all in all, I don't think I'll be seeking more books by this author.
May 16, 2018
Kelli Stanley writes with excellent style, and her evocations of late 1930s San Francisco ring true, but I found this book heavy on the rhetoric, with lectures, it seems, on every other page. I'm as more or less liberal as the author, but when I want opinions, I read the opinion page. When I need to express an opinion, I do it on my blog, the comments section, or on Facebook. Not in my fiction.
With fiction, I like the politics , whether I agree with them or not, hanging in the background or humming underneath, letting the setting, incidents and characters do the work. Ms. Stanley, I felt, kept barging in, disturbing and disrupting the world she describes with otherwise eloquent and painstaking detail.
I also didn't care for Miranda Corbie. She felt like a bit of a contrivance, a motley of 1940s hardboiled and 21st Century feminism. She seemed to me a collection of attributes that failed to gel and I found her unconvincing as a tough gal.
She does remain, however, an excellent writer.
With fiction, I like the politics , whether I agree with them or not, hanging in the background or humming underneath, letting the setting, incidents and characters do the work. Ms. Stanley, I felt, kept barging in, disturbing and disrupting the world she describes with otherwise eloquent and painstaking detail.
I also didn't care for Miranda Corbie. She felt like a bit of a contrivance, a motley of 1940s hardboiled and 21st Century feminism. She seemed to me a collection of attributes that failed to gel and I found her unconvincing as a tough gal.
She does remain, however, an excellent writer.
June 7, 2010
Christopher's review catches the highlights.
I was impressed by the atmosphere and history. My main complaints, and they might seem petty, were mostly related to voice. Clearly, the author wanted to evoke the hard-bitten noir detectives of yore, but at times, the staccato sentence-fragment style felt forced and self-conscious, almost a parody of the form, trying too hard. I wanted to like this book more than I did, but the voice just got in the way.
My other complaint was the resolution of the main case seemed to wrenched forward by a series of pivotal expository moments that I had a hard time following, as if loose threads were suddenly yanked together to give the narrative a kick in the ass.
All that said, I'm looking forward to reading the next book and seeing what happens - and if any of these stylistic issues are addressed.
I was impressed by the atmosphere and history. My main complaints, and they might seem petty, were mostly related to voice. Clearly, the author wanted to evoke the hard-bitten noir detectives of yore, but at times, the staccato sentence-fragment style felt forced and self-conscious, almost a parody of the form, trying too hard. I wanted to like this book more than I did, but the voice just got in the way.
My other complaint was the resolution of the main case seemed to wrenched forward by a series of pivotal expository moments that I had a hard time following, as if loose threads were suddenly yanked together to give the narrative a kick in the ass.
All that said, I'm looking forward to reading the next book and seeing what happens - and if any of these stylistic issues are addressed.
July 7, 2010
Intriguing historical fiction. I read Stanley's award-winning mystery, Nox Dormienda, so I was looking forward to reading this book.
As a history lover, and having delved a bit into writing a novel set in the 1940's, I was interested in seeing how Stanley created 1940 San Francisco. I was impressed.
Main character, Miranda Corbie, is not a push-over. She's a private investigator who's out to make wrongs right, and stops at little to accomplish it. To say the least, author Kelli Stanly has created an intriguing portrait of this volatile era in the fabled Chinatown.
Stanley's signature dry humor kept me laughing one moment, then sober the next. The writing is rich and powerful. The characters vibrant and real. The plot captivating.
Another Stanley classic.
As a history lover, and having delved a bit into writing a novel set in the 1940's, I was interested in seeing how Stanley created 1940 San Francisco. I was impressed.
Main character, Miranda Corbie, is not a push-over. She's a private investigator who's out to make wrongs right, and stops at little to accomplish it. To say the least, author Kelli Stanly has created an intriguing portrait of this volatile era in the fabled Chinatown.
Stanley's signature dry humor kept me laughing one moment, then sober the next. The writing is rich and powerful. The characters vibrant and real. The plot captivating.
Another Stanley classic.
March 5, 2012
This book had such potential. It was beautifully written with wonderful descriptions of San Francisco around the 1940 era. Since I work in San Francisco, I could really appreciate hearing about how it was back then and knowing that some of the restaurants and places are still here. However, I just couldn't get into or relate to the characters that much even the main heroine. I almost think the author made her too tough for the time period. I know she had to be tough with her background as a call girl turned P.I. but I also would have appreciated a little vulnerability especially with a couple of the male characters. It picked up in the last 50 pages, but it wasn't enough to have me grabbing another one by this author.
February 26, 2016
Kelly Stanley introduces a tough, smart, relentless private detective, Miranda Corbie who is dogged by the ghosts of her past, but directed by an inner determination to see justice done. Stanley hits all the genre tropes in this noir thriller. She has clearly studied the greats, and replicated their tone. But Stanley makes CITY OF DRAGONS is fresh and immediate by extraordinary attention to detail. The streets, the business establishments, the music on the radio, even the prices, combine to lend an air of verisimilitude to the story. She can turn a phrase with the best of them, “black coffee so bitter that it had no tears left” is my favorite. I am looking forward to picking up the next book in the series.
July 28, 2018
#1 in the San Francisco, February 1940, 33 year old private investigator Miranda Corbie mystery series. She is portrayed as a hard-boiled, I can take care of myself (which drives the good guys batty as she pushed them away), very flawed (by her past), tough as nails, chain smoking woman who swears a lot. Much of the narration is about her and the mystery what happened to Eddie Takahashi and why his death is being covered up by officials. All of this is connected in some fashion to 2 other murders and Miranda’s desire for justice for others. The events take place during Chinese New Year celebrations in Chinatown and Valentine’s Day.
Miranda is a difficult person to like and took me nearly to the end to start appreciating her, her drive and desire for justice.
Miranda is a difficult person to like and took me nearly to the end to start appreciating her, her drive and desire for justice.
June 4, 2010
I really eagerly anticipated this book -- set in WWII San Francisco's Chinatown with a woman PI, right up my alley! Or not. If I could give the book zero stars I would. Once you delete all of the four-letter words, the references to the protagonist drinking, buying liquor, buying cigarettes, smoking cigarettes, etc., you'd have a 20-page story, at best. What a total waste of time; I certainly won't read the sequel, if she actually manages to get another book in this wretched series published.
December 5, 2011
I completed the book and loved it from the very beginning especially the fact that the noir detective was a woman. The story was quite complex, but the author did an admirable job of tying the events together. City of Dragons was made more enjoyable because I had the pleasure of hearing the author speak soon after I began reading this mystery. Ms Stanley really took the reader to 1940 San Francisco--the sounds, smells, foods, etc. I highly recommend this read to mystery lovers, and am eagerly looking forward to beginning the sequel.
February 22, 2012
I enjoyed the storyline, and the author does a great job of portraying 1940s San Francisco, including considerable detail. This is actually the 2nd "Miranda Corbie" mystery, and there are many references in the book to the previous mysteries solved (though the book is not based on them and the story doen't include any of the details). Many of the lines in book felt a little cheesy - like watching an 'old tyme' movie - mostly with lingo and some exaggerated stereotypes. All in all it was a quick, easy, and fun read, with a likable heroine.
September 5, 2014
Amazing. I loved the atmosphere of this book. Stanley did an excellent job with researching the history behind San Francisco's Chinatown. I'm really impressed with how she secured so many historical details and made the story feel alive even though it's set in the 1940s. It's also nice to witness a strong female (with flaws) lead. Of course, there were so many twists and turns in this story that I couldn't guess all the connections. I also enjoyed how Stanley put a political spin on things as well, giving a deeper insight into the historical time period she portrays.
June 18, 2010
After 40 pages, countless Chesterfields being lit and the "f" word uttered at least 20 times, I came to the conclusion that I didn't care who the murderer was, I was so turned off by Miranda. The writer's use of incomplete sentences and mentioning historical events and places without explaining them, making me want to google it to figure out what she was talking about also irritated me. Suffice it to say, I didn't like this book.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 146 reviews