I recently decided to start in on reading some Ken Follett books, and being a completist I started at the beginning. First novels are often pretty bad ... and here we are. This book is ... pretty dreadful. In fact, my choice of rating was either going to be a 1 or a 2, and I had to ponder it for awhile. Here's why ...
This is the kind of novel where the hero unapologetically has the name "Apples." Of course he has to be quirky, so he doesn't just have an ex wife and a troubled daughter who he hasn't seen in a long time (of course!), but he lives with two voluptuous women as part of an open thruple. He does edgy things and knows lots of colorful characters. And when the story calls for it, he can use his riches to facilitate his entry into the international heroin trade. Yep, that all checks out ... perfectly logical! As with many 70s era heroes, he's also perfectly happy to get busy ... not just does he sleep with two paramours several times during the short novel (it's just 180 pages long), but he also has sex with mutliple other women who he randomly runs across on his missions. I don't have such a problem with that, but the women in his life are also treated horribly in the book (not by the main character, who seems ... fine I guess, but by the author!) including one who is raped multiple times in a matter of a couple of days. Even worse, after one such incident the police don't ask HER if she wants to press charges, they ask HIM ... yikes. After the other, even more serious incident, her desire for sexual activity with him comes back shockingly quickly. I guess I don't expect enlightenment out of 70's era crime thrillers but sheesh.
The experience of reading this reminded me a lot of reading Clive Cussler's first novel, Pacific Vortex!, which I also gave a 2 star rating (something that stuns me, looking back on it - it really deserved a 1). In relation to that, The Big Needle is a little better. The writing is at least competent (Cussler's was dreadful in that first effort). The characters are just as thinly drawn, and the heroes both engage in equally implausible activities. Since I gave that book a 2/5 I suppose this one also deserves a 2/5, but in my head I was on the fence here between a 1 and a 2 until I decided, at least, that the hero in in this novel at least couldn't do EVERYTHING (although he certainly could do quite a lot), and also that he seemed to have at least a little bit of introspection.
In the end, I can only recommend this if you are a Follett completist. If not, there's nothing here for you.