My mother started reading this book after she
gave birth to me, and threw it away freaked out after a few pages. Later she
blamed the decision on hormonal imbalance and declared the book one of the best
she ever read. This novel by Ellroy made me seriously reconsider the greatness
of Chandler and Hammett, as I don’t think the two can even compare to Ellroy.
Having watched L.A. Confidential (but without having read the book) I knew Ellroy
could weave intricate plots mixing real-life characters and events to anchor
them to the reality of 1940s and 1950s LA, but I wasn’t expecting to be this drawn
into a book of his this quickly. Having found the intricacies of a movie like Chinatown excessive and borderline
laughable, I would have never thought I would have enjoyed so much the twists
towards the end of the novel.
And, oddly enough, even the sort-of-sweet and
somewhat romantic epilogue manages not to be cheesy.
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