She reveals the never-before-disclosed name of his father and warns him of grave danger. The man can deliver a story in compelling fashion and is a novel that both aims to educate and entertain and it's rather successful at both. Straub may have used too light a touch, or perhaps the meta-narrative just was not put together as carefully as it could have been. Back in Bangkok, Poole at last digs up Underhill; since he's not Koko, who is? After that he threw on a polo shirt, gestured me toward his Mercedes and sped off to one or both of the bars we had visited on my first day, there to drink gasohol until six or seven, when we rocketed homeward for the evening meal. Well…cash in on the story of how they caught him is more like it. The youth behind this modernist, in fact all but Cubist structure greeted my friend with a wide grin and a cabalistic handshake.
Your in the book four hours before you even meet the bad guy and then only briefly. Tim Underhill was one, and a boy from Milwaukee named M. He was hospitalized for several months, and temporarily used a wheelchair after being released until he had re-learned how to walk. But for Jack everything is about to change. The narrator was solid, but he lacked gravitas, and his emphasis in reading certain sentenses simply did not fit the context very well. I'd just make you feel guilty.
But what begins as a simple publicity stunt will become a fight for survival. Straub has also published several books of poetry. It is a real tour-de-force by the excellent writer Peter Straub. It leaves you feeling dirty at times. Tina, Conor, and Michael were soldiers in his platoon, along with several other men, most notably Victor Spitalny, a foul-tempered and arrogant young man, and M.
He hears something in the darkness and reaches for his knife. These are some of the most realistic and memorable character I've ever encountered in fiction. I certainly wouldn't rank it that way, but, as is often the case when I read Straub's work, there's a nagging voice in the back front of my head saying that I haven't put in the appropriate amount of work to crack this particular egg. I was tempted to just put the whole thing here, but I think we'll just the highpoints instead. I had never read Straub prior to this experience, so his universe was entirely new to me.
I knew off the bat that this would probably be more psychological thriller than horror novel and started looking for the proper cues to tell me who the murderer truly was. The main characters in this novel are the surviving members of an unit that fought in Vietnam and were involved in some situation for which they were investigated as a possible war crime. I realized at some point that I was the cat in this cat-and-mouse game with Straub continually pull the rug out from under me. Beevers then remembers, belatedly, that the knife had fallen through a hole in his coat pocket earlier on that day, and he transferred it to the same pocket as the handcuffs, to make it easier to find. There are times when you might find yourself wondering what bearing their individual stories have on anything. He thought actual writing was probably beyond him even though actual writing was probably what he was best at - down crammed he many and many a book, stirred by. Straub just wasn't doing it for me after 150 pages in, and this is a loooong novel, so I quit it.
They are unaware of the policemen's presence until Underhill alerts Michael to the sight of them. I wish only that I had succeeded in deterring him from writing the tediously long thriller on which he had embarked and in persuading him to return to his native soil. You could start to understand their actions more. And I knew how far I had gotten each time, if not by some whiff of remembering; then at least by the markers I had placed where I had stopped each time. From what I can tell, it is someone the protagonist and his friends might have known in Vietnam. Dengler, a philosophical and thoughtful man from a small town. Not really, because the plot would have been a bit more complex.
Four men, bonded by the horrors of war, reunite to hunt one of their own, when a series of brutal killings a world away leads them back into their shared pasts, to face the specter that haunts them all. After listening to this book I now know who did the lion's share of the writing in the Talisman, a book Mr. Murphy and his squad of police trail them. But that's the thing: Harry is a joke, through and through. After Floating Drago Koko is a lenghty tome. Before he does so, he visits the scene of Dengler's death, among other landmarks, but his search turns up fruitless. If that's the case it is just really hard to follow and confusing.
Straub is a very successful author in his own right who's been writing bestseller over bestseller for decades now, but an oddly small number of readers seem to know that fact. Until he rises to meet his fate and finds himself face to face with an evil far older, and far greater, than the Nazis themselves. The spine may show signs of wear. Koko stuffs playing cards in his victims' mouths, just like they used to in Nam; who else could he be but tormented, missing Underhill? Here we go: The prose felt fractured. Peter Straub has achieved something extraordinary in Koko; when he says that this is his strongest work, a favorite, he has his reasons. As I walked it to the counter, a single playing card fell out of the middle of the book, where, I assume, someone had marked a page. Bestselling author Peter Straub's Koko is a gripping psychological thriller in which horror and paranoia are indistinguishable from reality.
Back to Dick Hill as a reader or Divina Porter 2 of 2 people found this review helpful 7 hours in and I am done I couldn't stick with this book. Deep in his chest, his heart deflated like a punctured balloon. I phrase it that way because I can acknowledge that the book is well-written, that Peter Straub has an amazing turn of phrase, and that there is a brilliant thread at work here. Then he knew that this was no dream, he really was in Vietnam -- the rest of his life was the dream. Well, here's a man nick named Tina.
I think Sheehan sums up what I'm talking about best. He is Terry Maitland, Little League coach, English teacher, husband, and father of two girls. Straub also sits on the contributing editorial board of the literary journal , and he guest-edited Conjunctions: 39, an issue on New Wave Fabulism. Do we need extended sections about Tina and Maggie's relationship, and either way, do we need to then go on a sidebar about Maggie's relationship with her godfather? Eyewitnesses and fingerprints point unmistakably to one of Flint City's most popular citizens. Let's get on with it already. This is about men who share with each other because they recognize that only those who have been there can really feel the pain and grief. Straub seems to almost always confuse the hell out of me, but I really enjoy reading him.