Book Review - Two Graves

Two Graves is the perfect example of how to take a rip-roaring, action-packed beginning, and after coming out of the first turn, shoot it directly in the foot.  Let me explain:

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!  Read at your own risk.  Actually, it’s not that bad: I spill a couple of major points here and there, but is that really going to stop you from reading this?  Didn’t think so, enjoy. 

Two Graves is the typical formula for a P&C novel: multiple points of view, semi-fantasy/reality, complaining cops, and an FBI agent who just does whatever the hell he wants, when he wants. 

P&C are at their best when they mix some funky history with fantasy and show people at their worst, best, and most frigged-up time in their life.  Recently though, Pendergast has been having a terrible go at it.  The man has had crappy uncles who dissect people, a brother who loves to give people brain-melting disorders, a wife who completely just sucks, and now children who are just plain weird.

STORY:

After suffering the tragedy of losing his wife, Special Agent Pendergast, spends two novels finding out Helen is alive and well—minus a hand.  At the end of Book 2 (Cold Vengeance), Pendergast finally gets to hold his wife's other hand.  He gets to look into her eyes, see her smile and then BAM; she’s ripped out of his grasp and taken away...again.  Well, this book picks up right there, at her abduction.  He spends the rest of his time tracking down the men that kidnapped her, sending him to Mexico, NY, and South America.

THOUGHTS:

Two Graves comes roaring out of the first turn, holding the lead by 23 lengths, then—Oh my goodness—a sniper bullet just tore its left foot apart and now it’s hobbling along.  And the jockey, well, he was thrown head first into the mud, only to be repeatedly stomped by other horses.

Yeah, it’s kind of like that.

The book itself is a tomb like most P&C novels, which doesn't concern me one bit, but to stuff it full of subplots for half of the novel pisses me off to no end.  I wouldn't care if the subplots intertwined with the main story and everything connected at the end, but no, you actually have subplots that are separate stories all together.  The only thing linking them is: these second rate characters know Pendergast.  That’s it.  Just like how you know your neighbor—now would you want someone including almost a whole biography of your neighbor in your biography?  Unless they played a major role in some part of your life…otherwise they would be about as important as a passing fart.

Reading the book became quite a jarring experience.  Action, action, drama, stop, stop, stop, action, stop, stop, boring, enough already, get back to the story, drama, stop, wholly crap this sucks, action, drama, stop, stop, end.  Doesn't read very well, does it?

Constance, Pendergast's ward, spends her time reading books and speaking with Dr. Felder, who takes it upon himself to really start looking into her past.  A past we already know and do not need further evidence to point out.  So Constance’s subplot/story really doesn’t frigging matter at all.  There are several chapters spent in the good doctor's head contemplating a break-in.  I was getting so fed up reading it, I found myself skipping paragraphs until something actually happened.  Oh, and Pendergast shows up at the hospital to talk to Constance for about two pages, which I guess is the attempt to connect the stories.

Corrie Swanson on the other hand, has mysterious papers that she ran off with, that she thinks are very important.  Cool, right?  She finds Pendergast and hands them to him—also very cool, and plot related.  But then he tosses her out on her ass and that's where the “Pendergast and Corrie” story ends and your eyes will start to glaze over.  The rest of the time is spent telling the story of Corrie with her estranged father.  Your thinking, "this is a Pendergast story, right?"  Well, apparently only the chapters divisible by three, every other chapter is just filler. 

What the authors should have done is released just the Pendergast story line as Two Graves and then released another novel called "Just Some Other Crap" that way people would have known what they were getting.

Now Pendergast's story is action packed, overly dramatized, and nowhere near believable—which is sometimes good and sometimes bad.  It starts with him helping the investigation of serial murders in NY and then leads to the ultimate enemy of the book.  Who you ask?  Well, who's responsible for all the woes in the world?  Who gets blamed for almost everything bad in movies, games, and books since the 1930's?  Who's into eugenics?  If you’re thinking the Sith, then it's safe to say you haven't been paying attention at all, and you can go back to surfing more news about J. J. Abrams directing Star Wars VII on the web.

 

I really have no idea why I'm here...No, seriously. 

For everyone else, if you said the Nazis, then ding, ding, ding, you'd be right!  The question is: has the Nazi thing been played out already?  If you answer no, then you'll enjoy the book; if you said yes, then maybe you should be surfing the internet for Star Wars news.

Hitler & his men, accept the award for biggest dick in the world. Circa 1940's 

Apparently, those silly Nazis are still living it up in South America, enjoying drinks with umbrellas and splicing human genes.  Silly Nazis.  Don't they know the war is over?  Not in this book.  Anyway, they have their own fort (yes I said fort, and no, it’s not made out of pillows or sheets) and protect it with their lives.  Pendergast must penetrate this blight on the world and destroy all of them once and for all.  Enter: his genetically altered son, who has the talent of sneaking around like a ghost, dodging bullets, and seeing the future. 

Things get a little crazy at this point, and I'm not talking wet T-shirt crazy, more like people dying everywhere crazy.  There's explosions, crazy needles, boating (yes, you saw that right—boating), army officers, flooding, and a father and son love-story caught in the middle.

The writing as always with P&C is top notch.  They know how to create tension and stretch reality without breaking it.  But the subplots are what killed this novel for me.  In some crazy way, I was continually hoping they would somehow intertwine, but alas, I left holding my Johnson with no bowl in sight. 

In the end, if you don't mind several different stories happening at once, and find no problem with waiting a few chapters before getting back to the main plot, then this book is for you.  Any trouble with the above and I'd say hold out until you can get it from the library.  And then if you don't like it, you don't have to beat yourself over the head with it for throwing away money you could have spent on food or video games or porn (I know, no one really pays for porn anymore, it just sounded good when read, okay?) or strippers or a new baboon or—you get the point.

2.5 out of 5 stars (minus 1.5 stars for random short stories and a star for the over-cooked Nazi presence)