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DEAD MEN CAST NO SHADOWS

A lively valedictory caper from an ebullient storyteller.

An indomitable Nicaraguan inspector undertakes a perilous homecoming, then sets about solving a series of crimes.

The final playful volume in Ramírez’s Managua Trilogy—following No One Weeps for Me Now (2022)—features a literal Chinese box, which also serves as a fitting (and surely intentional) metaphor for its loopy plot. Heroic sleuth Dolores Morales, again introduced through his Wikipedia entry, works as a private investigator but is still known as “Inspector” because of his years with the National Police Force. When the story opens, he and his new sidekick, Serafín Rambo, are climbing Mount La Campana, secretly crossing from Honduras, where Morales has been in exile, back to Nicaragua, where Morales’ lover, Fanny Toruño, has had a relapse of cancer. Completing their party is the faithful guide Gato de Oro (“the Golden Cat”), who's described as “a kind of crude giant.” The novel, episodic and long on colorful characters, often resembles a reunion party. Urbane Lord Dixon, a companion in The Sky Weeps for Me (2020) and a droll posthumous adviser in the Inspector’s head thereafter, makes wry italicized comments that Morales responds to aloud, for example by scolding Dixon for his tardy arrival, confusing everyone around him. Doña Sofía, who began as a cleaning lady and worked her way up to the status of indispensable investigator, joins the team midway to investigate an attack on a beloved priest and the murder of his nephew. Banter flows, and references to pop culture and Nicaragua’s recent political turmoil abound.

A lively valedictory caper from an ebullient storyteller.

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 2023

ISBN: 9781620540619

Page Count: 284

Publisher: McPherson & Company

Review Posted Online: May 24, 2023

Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 2023

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THE WEDDING PEOPLE

Uneven but fitfully amusing.

Betrayed by her husband, a severely depressed young woman gets drawn into the over-the-top festivities at a lavish wedding.

Phoebe Stone, who teaches English literature at a St. Louis college, is plotting her own demise. Her husband, Matt, has left her for another woman, and Phoebe is taking it hard. Indeed, she's determined just where and how she will end it all: at an oceanfront hotel in Newport, where she will lie on a king-sized canopy bed and take a bottle of her cat’s painkillers. At the hotel, Phoebe meets bride-to-be Lila, a headstrong rich girl presiding over her own extravagant six-day wedding celebration. Lila thought she had booked every room in the hotel, and learning of Phoebe's suicidal intentions, she forbids this stray guest from disrupting the nuptials: “No. You definitely can’t kill yourself. This is my wedding week.” After the punchy opening, a grim flashback to the meltdown of Phoebe's marriage temporarily darkens the mood, but things pick up when spoiled Lila interrupts Phoebe's preparations and sweeps her up in the wedding juggernaut. The slide from earnest drama to broad farce is somewhat jarring, but from this point on, Espach crafts an enjoyable—if overstuffed—comedy of manners. When the original maid of honor drops out, Phoebe is persuaded, against her better judgment, to take her place. There’s some fun to be had here: The wedding party—including groom-to-be Gary, a widower, and his 11-year-old daughter—takes surfing lessons; the women in the group have a session with a Sex Woman. But it all goes on too long, and the humor can seem forced, reaching a low point when someone has sex with the vintage wedding car (you don’t want to know the details). Later, when two characters have a meet-cute in a hot tub, readers will guess exactly how the marriage plot resolves.

Uneven but fitfully amusing.

Pub Date: July 30, 2024

ISBN: 9781250899576

Page Count: 384

Publisher: Henry Holt

Review Posted Online: Sept. 13, 2024

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IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.

The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

Pub Date: March 12, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0

Page Count: 176

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

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