Today in The Gutter:
Chris McGinley reviews the latest from homeboy Angel Colon.
Chris McGinley reviews the latest from homeboy Angel Colon.
Book Review: Pull and Pray by Angel Colon
If you like crime fiction with sharp dialogue, clever
technical detail, and characters who take pains to see all the angles--and there
are dozens of them--you will enjoy Angel Colon's newest novel, Pull and Play (Down and Out Books), a
follow up to his No Happy Endings.
The title is a riff on a heist planned by some family
members--and a few outsiders--who look to do a "retirement job"
involving payoff codes hidden in slot machines. Oh, one other notable feature
here: the main characters are women; seasoned con-artists and skilled thieves
thoroughly accustomed to "the life."
Each has her own unique specialties and idiosyncratic methods that don't
always jibe with the style of the other crew members. Not surprisingly, this
often causes strife. But it's all part of a dysfunctional family tradition for
the main operators, another source of much discord in the novel, and even some
humor, too.
Expert lock picker Fantine Park reluctantly agrees to work
on a heist engineered by her aunt, Matilda Rhee. In fact, she only agrees because the aunt informs Fan
that she possesses information about the death of Fan's mother--an
"accident" on a previous job. Fan desperately wants revenge on her mother's
killers, and agrees to do the job. Yes, it's a bribe . . . . about the murder of Fan's mother . . . one presented
by her own aunt! This is the kind of dysfunction central to
much of the action. The reader, and indeed Fan herself, is always suspicious of
Matilda, called Matty, a fact that makes for some fine narrative tension throughout.
As for the crime itself, there's an important inside element.
Neil works in the casino industry and has access to schedules for slot machine
pick-ups and deliveries. The job involves finding access to the carefully
guarded machines and then cracking some more codes to determine the random
number generator behind jackpot payoffs in slots all over the region. With the
creation of some outside software (once the codes are ascertained) the heist
promises to be a goldmine. Of course, there are several players, and everything
has to come together just right, or the whole thing's a bust and the prospect
of jail time becomes very real for everyone.
Much of the novel centers on these technical aspects of the
job: how to navigate x, y, and z, and how to plan for the inevitable contingencies.
For those who enjoy the technical facets of contemporary heist stories, Pull and Pray will surely satisfy. Happily,
the crew also employs some old-school cons and decoys in order to effect their
plan. There's something here for fans of the traditional heist-job narrative as
well.
One thing that's especially refreshing is that Pull and Play is a feminist narrative,
whether or not you think the term belongs in a discussion of crime novels. Put
simply, the women are in charge here. Fan impresses her crew with her savvy and
ability to improvise on the fly. If they're reluctant subordinates early on, they
soon come to realize that Fan has the skills and the vision few others possess.
Matty, however, exercises a more insidious control over the crew. As the
architect of the job, she says who does what and when, and she brooks no
contest--much to the chagrin of others in several places.
One of Colon's strengths in creating these colorful
characters is his use of dialogue. The novel brims with it. There are snappy
rejoinders, wise-ass remarks, clever references to sources well outside the
sphere of criminal enterprise, and even emotional outbursts that ring true because
of Colon's facility at dialogue. The narration, too, impresses for its ability
to add dimension to characters without heavy-handedness. Consider the following
passage in which Fan confronts the fact that her skills aren't what they used
to be, at least not yet.
While Fan hadn’t ignored
picking she wasn’t working for time anymore. Now faced with real pressure, her
fingers lost their sensitivity. There was a time she swore she could feel the
tiniest nuance as she slipped picks into locks—the bumps, dips, dives—that
whisper of a moment when the tumblers were aligned and all it took was a twist.
It would only cost her a few breaths to get most locks opened but the locks
Neil provided felt impenetrable.
Fan looked at her
stopwatch. It was over seven minutes and the lock she was working on was still
engaged. “This is such bullshit.” Her cheeks and ears were hot. She felt almost
embarrassed yet nobody was in the room with her. All that build up over the past
few hours, that positivity, was already melting away.
It's a reflection on professionalism, and a lament over the
deterioration of one's abilities.
Like an athlete no longer able to perform the
same feats, Fan is unhinged over her inability to pick a lock. Colon never
devolves into maudlin sentiment or contrived rage. Instead he simply adds the
detail that she was embarrassed, despite the fact she was alone. Such clever
passages abound in Pull and Pray.
If you like heist stories full of action, technical detail,
double-dealing, and strong female characters, pick up Angel Colon's fine Pull and Pray. You won't be
disappointed.
Recommended.
Review by: Chris McGinley
