Three escapes and one potential trap.
Maigret's Childhood Friend, by Georges Simoneon -- Delightfully prototypical Maigret. I continue to be enamored of Simoneon's marvelous economy of language and how he manages to engross without contrivance, just well-drawn characters, linear plotting, dogged police work. I will continue to pick off Maigret's for a while I think.
The Dreadful Lemon Sky, by John D. MacDonald -- There was a time, decades ago, when I worked my way through these Travis McGee books. I came to stop at one point because I found them hopelessly lurid and violent and generally dark-toned. Not sure what encouraged me to go back and read one besides curiosity, but it confirmed my impression. MacDonald writes well, but these modern-day, white-knight, noir-ish, hyper-macho books wear thin quickly. I can see the lineage passed down to something like the Doc Ford series from Randy Wayne White, but White has a much better sense of humor and Doc Ford is not dark-hearted. Probably a close modern day match would be Jack Reacher -- another series in which I'm in no hurry to indulge. Good for what it is.
No Hero, by John P. Marquand -- Marquand was a fairly renowned mainstream fictionalist. Winner of the Pulitzer, and so forth. His side gig was writing an espionage/intrigue series featuring a Japanese spymaster called Mr. Moto (eventually turned into a movie series featuring Peter Lorre). The plot is fairly standard -- down on his luck rogue stumbles into a spy-game that causes him to sort himself out and also gets the girl. The writing is direct and clear. The real treat here is the insight into the sentimentalities of the times. Written pre-WWII, when the political machinations in the Pacific between Japan, U.S., China, and Russia were still in flux and no one was really certain how it was all going to shake out. A fun book and very cool lens into the past.
Spring Snow, by Yukio Mishima -- definitely not escapist. Mishima was arguably the premier Japanese writer of the 20th century and led quite a life. He was shortlisted for the Nobel, hobnobbed with various elite personalities, eventually he attempted a coup and committed seppuku upon its failure. A half-century after his death he is now something of a cult figure in certain circles of what is inexactly called the alt-right -- primarily for his devotion to an aesthetic combination of classical beauty and nobility and masculine strength. Spring Snow is the first of a tetralogy referred to as The Sea of Fertility. It is said to be an essential summary of the evolution of Japanese culture into modernity. I have only just started it. It is slow. The emotional motives of the characters are pursued in intricate detail. There are flourishes of description and scene setting that, while nicely written, seem a bit overindulgent. In short, Mishima is not a writer whose style I am attracted to. Still there is a bit of intrigue building so we'll see how far I get. I do get the sense that there is much worth telling in this book.
