The Bitter Past, by Bruce Borgos***

2.5 stars, generously rounded upward.

The Bitter Past is the first in the Porter Beck series by Bruce Borgos, and if I liked it, I’d be thrilled to read more. On balance, though, I don’t. Nevertheless, my thanks go to Net Galley and St. Martin’s Press for the invitation to read and review. This book is for sale now.

The setting is the hinterlands of Nevada; part of the story takes place in the 1950s, and part of it is in the present. I rate the historical threads as 3.5 stars, and the contemporary part as 1. The premise is that Porter Beck is the local sheriff who is called when a grisly murder is discovered; in addition, a sister-wife goes missing. Sana Locke is the woman that the Feds send in, uninvited. The premise for the other thread is that a Russian operative named Georgiy Dudko lands in Nevada, tasked with entering the nuclear test site and stealing a nuclear warhead. Toward the book’s conclusion, we see how the two stories are joined.

Before I am even twenty percent of the way into this story, my hackles are up. I haven’t seen an author write with such brazen disrespect for women in a very long time, and I hope not to see it again. You see, Beck is God’s gift to women, and it’s a good thing, too, because none of them prove smart enough to find their butts with both hands until he sails in and fixes everything. From the instant Agent Sana enters the narrative, introducing herself as FBI, Beck is the guy in charge, and Sana is his li’l buddy, his sidekick. Good thing he is here to educate her. It is Beck that finds a hidden room in a house they’re searching; it is Sana whose eyes “go big.” He has to dive quickly to save her from the bad guy with the gun. He tells her what to do, and she does it. Here are some quotes that set my teeth on edge:

“Before [Sana] can speak, I place a finger over her lips.”

“Sana appears confused.”
“I bring my finger under her chin. ‘Look up.’”

And no collection of sexist bilge is complete without the old saw about how women are unable to get along with other women: “[Sana’s] still miffed about Brinley, [Beck’s sister] and it’s clouding her judgment…I glare at Brin, a warning to her to retract her claws.”

Beck feels completely free to comment on Sana’s physical features, particularly her “exquisite ass,” but of course, Sana likes that in a guy. She’s in the sack with his middle-aged, um, butt in no time flat.

For a long time I hold out hope that things will turn around, and the author will prove to us that actually, Beck is about to get his just desserts, and Sana had been sent to take him down for some reason, but the only comeuppance she deals him at any point is when she pulls a jujitsu move on him, and that’s only once.

What else? Ah yes, the sister-wife. The girl’s husband is a good FLDS neighbor, Beck tells Sana. They don’t force anyone to marry. She’s seventeen years old, so it’s fine.

What the fuck. Seriously? Excuse me while I grab my blood pressure medication.

In addition to all of this, there is the constant use of the word “illegal” to describe a person that is in the U.S. without documentation. They don’t even call them illegal immigrants, or illegal residents. They don’t merit a full grammatical description.

The thread that takes place in the past is more palatable. Georgiy needs into the nuclear test site, and so he befriends a scientist that works there, and is introduced to Kitty, the scientist’s daughter, whom he courts and accidentally falls in love with. Kitty is not developed as a character any more than Sana is, but at the same time, during the 1950s in the U.S., marriage and motherhood were very nearly the only acceptable path for women, so within the context of time and place, this is believable. I like Georgiy much better than Beck, that’s for sure!

There’s a twist of sorts at the end, but it’s not all that impressive, and it mitigates nothing.

I was provided with the digital review copy and the audio as well, and so I listened and read at the same time. Narrator James Babson does a fine job portraying the characters as they are written, and he isn’t to blame for the way I feel as I read.

That’s it in a nutshell. If all of this sounds just fine to you, then go ahead and get this thing, and stay away from me. Does anyone have any matches I can use?

Agent Sniper, by Tim Tate***

I was invited to read and review this book by Net Galley and St. Martin’s Press. I accepted because I do love a good spy story, and there aren’t many of them being published at this time. Tim Tate has had a long, illustrious career as a documentary filmmaker and as an author, but is new to me.

So, when I began reading and found my attention wandering, I thought it was a personal problem. Too many distractions. I tried again, and when that didn’t go well, I procured the audio version and listened to it while I prepared dinners during the week. Eventually, I threw in the towel and admitted that this is simply not an engaging book. The topic sounds fascinating, but just as a gifted, dedicated author can spin dull material to gold, so can an indifferent one tell an electrifying spy story in a way that leaves the reader checking the page numbers and the clock—is this thing over yet?

It’s not all bad news: the research here is top drawer. For the researcher, this book has use, although I would caution the uninitiated into reading carefully, because history is always politically charged. Every fact that is included, and every fact that is not; the interpretation; the language used, all give a biased account, even when a researcher and writer is endeavoring to be as balanced as possible. I don’t care for this writer’s interpretation, which makes him sound like a hardened right winger, but I have no doubt that the facts that he uses are accurate ones.

Then we come to the audio, and I must wonder why, if we’re primarily dealing with the CIA and its agents, we have a narrator with a clipped English accent (and a few pronunciations that sounded very odd to me,) telling the story. I found it disorienting, but if this had been a more engaging story, I would have overlooked it.

Ultimately it comes down to wordsmithery, and I didn’t find much of it. Those interested in dabbling in this genre would do better to read Ben McIntyre and Tim Weiner.

This book is for sale now.

A Brotherhood of Spies, by Monte Reel****

BrotherhoodSpies3.5 stars rounded up. Thanks go to Net Galley and Doubleday for the DRC, which I received free and early in exchange for this honest review.

The story begins with a US spy plane being shot down over Soviet (Russian) airspace in 1960. This is embarrassing. Eisenhower’s people decide to make something up; after all, nobody survives an airplane crash over dry land. Moreover, the pilot was provided with a cyanide capsule—James Bond style—so even if he survived, he must be dead; likewise, the plane was likely blown to bits, with not much left for the Soviet investigators to learn.

Let’s say it was a weather plane. It wandered off course, and those mean Soviets shot it down.

But oh dear, this is even more embarrassing: the pilot lived, and he didn’t feel like taking the poison pill. Would you?  So the Russians know what he was flying, and they know who he is. They’re telling the world.

Just reading the teaser for this book, I was hooked. But just as a brilliant writer can take dross and make a good tale of it, so can an indifferent one take compelling information and make it into a snooze. For me, this was not an entertaining read. I had agreed to write about it, so I had to read it, and it felt like work.

I want to be fair here: there are people that will read this book and like it. There’s a lot of technical information about the spy plane, and about many other spy planes, some of which were never built. Apart from the truly bizarre one that was supposed to be landed on its belly (no landing gear), or the ridiculous idea of a nuclear powered plane, I found my attention drifting during these descriptions. But I am not interested in aviation, and if you are, you may like this.

The other aspect that causes my attention to wander is the history 101 aspect of it. I’m a retired history teacher. I don’t need an author to walk me through the Cuban Missile Crisis or the Bay of Pigs. However, I note that other reviewers came to this work with no knowledge of either, and they are delighted to be clued in. For newbies, count this as a win.

Finally, I have to credit the source work. Reel didn’t take the easy way out. His end notes are first rate.

For those that are relatively new to this chapter of American history, this may be a compelling read. For those interested in the history of American aviation, it is recommended. For those that are well read in the field, maybe not.

This book is now for sale.