The Gods of Gotham by Lyndsay Faye

Do you love historical fiction like I do? Great novels like The Gods of Gotham weave historical facts into story like an artisan weaves contrasting color into cloth. Ms. Faye unfolds the fascinating beginnings of the NYC police force and the immigration of the Irish (due to the potato famine in Ireland) around the story of Timothy, one of the very first “copper stars” to patrol the streets of the city. Besides characters that you’ll feel you come to know, you pretty much experience the city in every way–hearing the piercing cries of babies, seeing the grime of a despairing one-room apartment, feeling the muck on Timothy’s hands, smelling the pungent scents of the back alleys. The unfolding story quickly pulls you into a mystery, and Ms. Faye drops clues here and there for the astute reader to take note of.

Which brings me to a pet peeve I mentioned before: authors who defraud their readers. Mysteries should give legitimate clues (and certainly, they can be heavily disguised) from “truthful” characters. It’s not legitimate for straight-as-an-arrow Mr. Right to suddenly violate everything his character has been in the first 99 chapters with an action that comes out of nowhere. No warning, no foreshadowing, no clues. In my opinion, that’s fraudulent characterization which leads to a (cheap) surprise ending that wasn’t earned in the building story of characters who act and stay within character. So that’s why I commend Gone Girl for its creative structure; I was really intrigued by 80% of that imaginative story. But that ending came totally out of nowhere…grrrrr….!

 

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