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A review by ndizz87
The Man Everybody Was Afraid Of by Joseph Hansen
4.0
I’ve been reading Brandstetter mysteries for a few years now. There have been ups (Fadeout & Death Claims) and downs (Troublemaker), but it’s largely remained consistent. You know what you’re getting. There’s a comfortable formula taking shape that’s both cozy and easy. After the middling third novel, I was cautiously curious going into this next story. While not earthshatteringly brilliant, it was certainly a come up. There were themes that, while not fully fleshed out, were complex and interesting. The plot felt a little more cohesive this time around which was a nice cherry on top. In all honesty, at this point I’m in it more for Brandstetter’s hardboiled noir detective persona than for the actual plot itself.
In this mystery, Brandstetter sets out to investigate the murder of a police chief that everyone hated, but that doesn’t stop the police department from quickly throwing the book at a radical gay activist who was petitioning the city to accept gay policemen. Brandstetter doesn’t believe it’s that cut and dry (spoiler, it never is) as he tracks down the dead police chief’s missing daughter and her ex-convict boyfriend newly released from jail.
One thing that this novel confronts that its predecessors skirt around is the gay rights movement in 1970s California. I found it an interesting juxtaposition between the traditional gay rights activists (slowly building consensus toward legislation) and the radical post-Milk era gay activists (who run into the state capital and start openly kissing legislators). Each feels that what they’re doing is right, but diametrically opposed to the other’s tactics. While this theme isn’t written deeply about, I still thought it was a quite intriguing point in the novel.
The major flaw that’s been a hallmark of Brandstetter mysteries is the ultimately convoluted endings Brandstetter finds himself in. For most mysteries that would be a dealbreaker, but for whatever reason these stories have conditioned me for lackluster endings so it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I’m convinced you actually can’t solve the murder along with Brandstetter with the information the reader has in front of them. It all remains quite hazy until the end when you’re presented with too many possibilities until it gets whittled down to the most random of people who committed the slaying.
I used to really like the subtle hints and quick chapters that give glimpses into Brandstetter’s personal life. His steely detective persona melts away, if only slightly, when dealing with his souring relationship with Doug, Doug’s ailing mother, or even his own steely father who’s recovering from a heart attack. However, at this juncture it’s starting to get frustrating that Brandstetter’s personal life feels as opaque as it was in the first novel. That could be why the character of Cecil felt so jarring and hard to reconcile.
On the whole, however, it was an enjoyable and much more memorable read. There were more interesting themes at play in this mystery that made the slightly mundane plot more interesting. Just when I thought I had lost the appetite for insurance claims, this novel did an adequate job of piquing my interest for the next mystery. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Brandstetter sooner rather than later.
In this mystery, Brandstetter sets out to investigate the murder of a police chief that everyone hated, but that doesn’t stop the police department from quickly throwing the book at a radical gay activist who was petitioning the city to accept gay policemen. Brandstetter doesn’t believe it’s that cut and dry (spoiler, it never is) as he tracks down the dead police chief’s missing daughter and her ex-convict boyfriend newly released from jail.
One thing that this novel confronts that its predecessors skirt around is the gay rights movement in 1970s California. I found it an interesting juxtaposition between the traditional gay rights activists (slowly building consensus toward legislation) and the radical post-Milk era gay activists (who run into the state capital and start openly kissing legislators). Each feels that what they’re doing is right, but diametrically opposed to the other’s tactics. While this theme isn’t written deeply about, I still thought it was a quite intriguing point in the novel.
The major flaw that’s been a hallmark of Brandstetter mysteries is the ultimately convoluted endings Brandstetter finds himself in. For most mysteries that would be a dealbreaker, but for whatever reason these stories have conditioned me for lackluster endings so it doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I’m convinced you actually can’t solve the murder along with Brandstetter with the information the reader has in front of them. It all remains quite hazy until the end when you’re presented with too many possibilities until it gets whittled down to the most random of people who committed the slaying.
I used to really like the subtle hints and quick chapters that give glimpses into Brandstetter’s personal life. His steely detective persona melts away, if only slightly, when dealing with his souring relationship with Doug, Doug’s ailing mother, or even his own steely father who’s recovering from a heart attack. However, at this juncture it’s starting to get frustrating that Brandstetter’s personal life feels as opaque as it was in the first novel. That could be why the character of Cecil felt so jarring and hard to reconcile.
On the whole, however, it was an enjoyable and much more memorable read. There were more interesting themes at play in this mystery that made the slightly mundane plot more interesting. Just when I thought I had lost the appetite for insurance claims, this novel did an adequate job of piquing my interest for the next mystery. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Brandstetter sooner rather than later.