Showing posts with label sports fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports fiction. Show all posts

Friday, March 26, 2021

You Know Me Al: A Busher's Letters – Ring Lardner, 1916 ★½

Just Getting it Over

People who talk classic American fiction sooner or later get round to Ring Lardner.

Many talk about how unfairly underrated he is, how he made slang not just respectable but lyrical, or perfected such techniques as the unreliable narrator and character humor into staples of the form.

Then there are a miserable few who think he was rated just about right as a short fiction specialist, where his gifts for colloquialism, narrative voice, and irony shine brightest.

Sorry to say, I’m one of them, admire him though I do.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

High Stakes – Dick Francis, 1975 ★★½

Hard-Charging Mystery Hangs on at the Turn

If you know Dick Francis already and want more of his mystery fiction, here’s another gripping if formulaic excursion into the underside of life, connected in this case rather firmly to Francis’s home turf, the world of horse-racing.


If you are a Francis novice, High Stakes isn’t exactly the type to make you a fan.

A feeling of being run through the motions hangs over this crime novel, not unlike finding yourself inside one of the wheel-driven devices with which, we come to discover, the main character has made himself a mint.

Monday, March 28, 2016

Dead Solid Perfect – Dan Jenkins, 1974 ★★★½

Tee Offs & Put Ons

People who pick up Dead Solid Perfect expecting a serious endeavor at sports fiction need to understand: This may be a golf novel, but it’s also a Dan Jenkins novel.

Jenkins’ gimmick with sportswriting was not unlike Dean Martin’s about singing: It was something he seemed to do on the way to the bar, preferably with a few bawdy jokes thrown in.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Knockdown – Dick Francis, 1974 ★★

Putting the Blood in Bloodstock

Dick Francis wrote very well. I feel confident in stating this, in part because I have read some fine Dick Francis novels and in part because he kept me reading this, a novel by no means fine. It is the mark of a superlative novelist to hold a reader’s attention even when firing blanks.

Knockdown begins with exactly that, a knockdown attack on our protagonist while he arranges a horse sale. As this is the livelihood of Jonah Dereham, he is both concerned and confused.

Why would a pair of thugs beat him up over the title to a non-sensational horse? And why would they attack him again when he acquires its replacement? Is it business? Is it personal? In time, Dereham discovers it is a bit of both.