Ratings4
Average rating3.6
In this deliciously noir novel from the creator of HBO's Bored to Death, idiosyncratic private detective Happy Doll embarks on a quest to help a dying friend in a sun-blinded Los Angeles as "quirky, edgy, charming, funny and serious" as its protagonist (Lee Child). Happy Doll is a charming, if occasionally inexpert, private detective living just one sheer cliff drop beneath the Hollywood sign with his beloved half-Chihuahua half-Terrier, George. A veteran of both the Navy and LAPD, Doll supplements his meager income as a P.I. by working through the night at a local Thai spa that offers its clients a number of special services. Armed with his sixteen-inch steel telescopic baton, biting dry humor, and just a bit of a hero complex, the ex-cop sets out to protect the women who work there from clients who have trouble understanding the word "no." Doll gets by just fine following his two basic rules: bark loudly and act first. But when things get out-of-hand with one particularly violent patron, even he finds himself wildly out of his depth, and then things take an even more dangerous twist when an old friend from his days as a cop shows up at his door with a bullet in his gut. A Man Named Doll is more than just a fascinating introduction to one truly singular character, it is a highly addictive and completely unpredictable joyride through the sensuous and violent streets of LA.
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I liked this book, even though it's not really the type of books I usually read. I will definitely read the next book in the series to decide if I want to continue on or not.
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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Happy Doll is a cop-turned-P.I. in Los Angeles, he now primarily works in doing security in a massage parlor* to make ends meet, but he used to do more investigative work.
* The employees may happen to negotiate other services.
When we first meet him, he’s talking with his mentor in the LAPD, a man who took a bullet for him and who now comes to him for a big favor. He needs a kidney transplant. Hap says he’ll think about it. That’s not good enough for Lou who ends up doing some very short-sighted things to get him that kidney. Happy doesn’t know that at the time, or he’d have said yes sooner.
An altercation with a high client at the parlor leaves Happy injured and under scrutiny by a couple of detectives from the LAPD. He’s also loopy on painkillers (which he counters with ADHD meds to really impair his judgment).
This leaves him in a bad spot when he has to investigate what Lou had gotten himself into and with whom. But he keeps plugging along obstinately (also, fueled by undeserved confidence).
I picked this up because Chris McDonald said that this is the book that inspired him to write his novel Little Ghost. I tried, usually successfully, to not compare the two as I read.
I can see the shadow of A Man Named Doll on Little Ghost—there’s a similar vibe to the protagonists being up against forces they’re not ready for, but not backing down or allowing themselves to think of it. There’s a similar feeling of events quickly spiraling out of control for everyone involved, and the protagonist being in a very different place when the book is over.
I’m not suggesting that McDonald borrowed much from this book, but the novels share some DNA (and the protagonists likely do, too). The two novels can—and should—be entertaining on their own, and don’t need to be considered in relation to each other in any way. I just found it interesting to see how an author could draw inspiration from a novel and run with it.
There were multiple twists that I didn’t see coming. I had to stop and go back to re-read a few paragraphs to make sure I just read what I thought I did, because…what author does that? Apparently, Jonathan Ames does.
I do think that this book moves a bit too quickly. I’d have liked to see Doll have to work a little harder to connect the dots between everything. I’d have liked to see the LAPD detectives play a larger roll in things (although I can’t imagine how they could’ve without ruining things for Doll’s investigation). It’s not a fatal flaw, but I think the book would’ve been better with just a little more of everything.
Ultimately, this reminded me of Eoin Colfer’s Daniel McEvoy books—just leaner and not quite as funny*. Although the latter could be a result of the former. I did laugh though at some of Doll’s narration—so not quite as funny does not imply not witty or funny at all. Both series share the same kind of worldview, the same kind of violence, and the same kind of twisted logic.
* It occurs to me that Doll does tell us that he’s half-Irish. But that part of his family hasn’t been in Ireland for quite some time, unlike McEvoy. But maybe there’s something to that heritage and the way he reacts to things. I only thought of that connection, as I was preparing to hit “Publish,” so I’m not going to spend time on it. It’s entirely possible that it won’t hold water. But it might.
I thought the emotional and psychological elements were handled perfectly—the way that Doll (and his friends) react to the events that befall them seems perfectly handled. And I really liked the Epilogue and the repercussions of the events of the novel for the characters. It comes across as a little more realistic than some PI novels would have it.
This didn’t completely wow me as I hoped—but it was a satisfying and surprising read. I want to see what else Ames is capable of and will be returning for the sequel as soon as I can.
Somehow I made it through this entire post without mentioning George, Doll’s half-Chihuahua, half-terrier dog. Shame on me. Briefly, he’s just adorable and goes through too much because of his doped-up human.
Originally posted at irresponsiblereader.com.