Absolute Zero Cool–A Review

I deliberately avoid reviews of books I know I’m going to read. Too many are thinly disguised book reports, recounting the major plot points until a couple of paragraphs at the end where the reviewer tells you if he liked it or not, and what he thinks it’s about. Most reviews, especially of the unpaid, online variety (like this one) leave the teacher in me yearning to give two grades. (“C+ for the content, but A- for the grammar and spelling. You can do better.”)

Because I don’t read reviews, I came to Declan Burke’s Absolute Zero Cool expecting something along the lines of Elmore Leonard channeled through several pints of Guinness. I’d read Dec’s previous books (Eightball Boogie, The Big O, and Crime Always Pays) and liked them a lot. His characters are fun, the dialog crackles, and the plots unfold well.

I knew the premise: a character from an unfinished novel comes to an author who closely resembles Declan Burke (even having written novels called The Big O and Crime Always Pays) and demands to be resurrected from the limbo into which unfulfilled fictional characters are cast. He’s different now, more likeable, worth working with/on again. Yes, he wants to blow up a hospital; no one’s perfect. The novel is the interplay between the author and the character. Sounded to me like a perfect set-up for someone of Dec’s gifts, playing with the author/character relationship, tweaking those who swear their characters “speak to them,” and their writing is little more than transcribing what they’re told in these literary séances.

I was right. I can’t think of anyone else who could have written this book. Hell, I don’t know anyone with the balls to consider writing this book. Certainly not me. All of the characteristics that drew me to his previous work are there, except it’s not Leonard sharing the pints; it’s James Ellroy. This isn’t crime for profit’s sake, with a little hipness thrown in; it’s depravity examining its navel.

The book doesn’t read like Ellroy. Burke wields the rapier where Ellroy uses a baseball bat, the book’s rough lyricism not unlike hearing The Commitments sing “Try a Little Tenderness.” I’m reminded of Ellroy by the darkness of Billy Karlsson’s thoughts and acts, noir-ish yet not completely self-destructive, leaving the reader to wonder at times who’s head he’s in, the author’s or the character’s, even though we know they’re both the same.

I stopped dog-earing pages halfway through. Already too much material to efficiently mine for quotes; might as well read the whole thing again. A riff on Tuesdays. A heartbreaking description of miscarriage. Recurring thoughts of sharks and Hitler, of everyday things we don’t like but accept, take them for granted because we all know that’s how things are, even if we won’t admit it. Billy knows, and the perambulations of his thought process drive someone mad. Probably not him; Billy was a nutter on Page One. Maybe it’s the author. Read on, start to follow the logic, to anticipate where it goes next, and the reader can only hope it’s not him.

How good is the writing? This good:

The opening paragraph:

The man at the foot of my bed is too sharply dressed to be anything but a lawyer or a pimp. He is reading, intently, which leads me to believe he is a pimp, as these days lawyers are more usually to be found writing novels than reading them.

When the author’s former agent says one of his books will be translated into Italian and that “Maybe the advance will pay for a weekend in Rome.”

Maybe. If I swim there.

When the author suggests Karlsson wanted to be a writer until repeated rejection turned him sour and led to his dream of blowing up the hospital, Billy replies:

Too narcissistic. Only a writer could be that self-absorbed.

Billy riffing on religion at the scene of an accident:

Priests are up to their oxters in the pus-filled boil of your fear, groping for the maggots they placed there before your birth. The concept of Original Sin is an evil so pure it verges on genius. Even the paedophiles wait for the child to leave the womb.

The author, realizing Billy is no longer fully under his control, if he ever was:

No Billy for three days running now. Maybe he isn’t coming back. Maybe he’s holed up in some garret, feverishly rewriting my life, consulting the story of Moses and Pharaoh for inspiration.

Is this how God felt when Einstein started doodling in the patent office? No wonder he struck Hawking down.

AZC is brilliant and baffling, enjoyable and vexing, funny and disturbing. I finished with much the feeling I get from Ellroy, a sense of “What just happened here?” understanding this is writing on a plane higher than I read. I don’t get it all, but I leave knowing I’ll be back to for another piece before too long.

How do you describe something unlike anything you’ve ever described before? Here’s a suggestion: read Absolute Zero Cool, then try writing a review. Let me know how it goes.

Absolute Zero Cool may be pre-ordered for November delivery at Amazon (US) here.

If you’d rather not wait, Amazon.uk can hook you up here. American Kindle readers can also click here.

Absolute Zero Cool Rises From The Gutter

The evening of August 10 was the official launch of Declan Burke’s new novel, Absolute Zero Cool. As is traditional, a launch party was held at the Gutter Bookshop in Dublin. (That’s Dublin, Ireland, for the more parochial Americans among you. And not that it’s traditional to hold launch parties at the Gutter Bookshop. They may be held anywhere. And for those who may feel a bit of gloom because you’d hope Dec’s career would be out of the gutter by now, fear not. By all accounts, the Gutter Bookshop intends its name ironically and is owned and operated by splendid folk he’d be a fool to disassociate himself from. Now that we have set the record for Longest Parenthetical Comment (contact Guiness, assuming they’re not still worn out from deliveries to the Gutter Bookshop), we shall proceed.)

The talented Mr. Burke was kind enough to submit to some questioning after his recovery from the debauchery festivities.

One Bite at a Time: First, congratulations on the publication of Absolute Zero Cool. My review will be forthcoming, but today let’s talk a little about the launch party. How many attended, not including the police who arrived near the end?

Declan Burke: Many thanks for the kind words, sir. I was hugely pleased with the turn-out for the launch party, not least because it took place on a typically Irish summer evening - grey skies, squally showers, intermittent gales. As to how many people were there, well, I’m afraid numbers have never been my strong suit. Words are my - actually, scratch that. I’d say there were about 80 people there, at one point or another, with which I was well pleased. And, yes, the SWAT team showed up at the end, but they were there to get John Connolly to sign their copies of HELL’S BELLS. So they don’t count.

OBAAT: Any names you’d care to share without risking legal action?

DB: Said John Connolly was good enough to launch the book on Liberties Press’ behalf, and lie through his teeth on mine. It was all very strange - at one point I thought my heterosexual male Irish soul would shrivel up and die with all the nice things being said. John also said he had read ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL not once, but twice, which might account for the slightly manic gleam in his eye during the proceedings. Actually, and all kidding aside, I was very chuffed by the fact that quite a few Irish writers turned out to support the evening - Arlene Hunt, Declan Hughes, Gene Kerrigan, John Banville, Alan Glynn, Ed O’Loughlin, Alan Monaghan, KT McCaffrey, Joe Joyce and Seamus Smyth were all there. Also, two names you might want to watch out for in the future - Rob Kitchin and Frank McGrath. All told, it was quite the humbling experience.

OBAAT: Considering the premise of the book, did any fictional characters appear?

DB: Well, given that the book’s main characters are an ‘unnamed writer’ - who has previously published EIGHTBALL BOOGIE and THE BIG O - and a character he previously created for an unpublished manuscript, the hospital porter Billy Karlsson, I guess you could say that one fictional character turned up on the night. And y’know, without getting too clever-clever about it, there is an element of truth in that. I mean, John Connolly was talking about ‘Declan Burke, the writer’, but Declan Burke the writer only exists for a couple of hours in any given day - most of the time, Declan Burke is way too busy trying to pay the mortgage and collect his baby girl from playschool, and mow the lawn, and doing all the 101 things that need to be done in any given day. Every time I sit down to write, it’s as if I need to reinvent ‘Declan Burke the writer’ - and I know that that’s an experience that most writers have. Other than myself, though, no other fictional characters showed up; or if they did, they didn’t make themselves known to me. Which, given that Billy Karlsson is a sociopathic hospital porter who takes it upon himself to blow up the hospital where he works, that’s probably for the best.

OBAAT: Can you describe a highlight or two from the festivities?

DB: Hand on heart, I can say that the highlight for me was being in a position - finally - where I could publicly acknowledge all the people who had helped to bring ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL to the point where we were having a launch party for it. Writers tend to bang on a bit about how writing is such a lonely existence, and it’s true, certainly, that it’s a job that needs to be done in isolation. But no man is an island, as they say, and it was great to be able to thank my wife, for example, for all the support she provides, in the way she helps to create the environment in which I do get to write; and Ed O’Loughlin, for example, who gave the manuscript a very severe and thorough read-through before it went to the publishers; the publisher himself, Sean O’Keeffe; and the in-house editor, Dan Bolger, the Pride of Philadelphia; and of course, everyone who paved the way all down the years, particularly my parents, who always had our house well stocked with books when I was a kid, and created an environment in which reading - and writing, for that matter - was so normal as to be unremarkable (although, when I did start to try to taking writing seriously, there were plenty of remarks made, all of them supportive). So yeah, my highlight was being in a position to say thanks to all those people who’d made it happen.

OBAAT: While I realize most readers hang on this blog’s every word like an infant clings to its mother’s breast, there may be the random stranger stopping by. Please give a brief description of what AZC is about, and how it came to be. (As I need not remind a writer as gifted as you, don’t allow the truth to get in the way of a good story here.)

DB: AZC is essentially about a hospital porter, Karlsson, who sets out to blow up the hospital where he works. Why? Well, throw another sod of turf on the fire and let me take you back a couple of years (picture grows fuzzy, soundtrack provided by a vibraphone) … I guess, like virtually everyone else on the planet, the 9/11 attack on the Twin Towers had a pretty profound effect on me; I wrote the first draft of the story not long after that happened. At the time, though, a lot of the commentary revolved around the fact that these terrorists had taken Western civilisation’s technology and used it against itself. Which was, in its own way, pretty frightening. What was even scarier to me, though, was the idea of people who weren’t outsiders, who weren’t necessarily of a different creed or colour, insiders, I guess - anyway, what happens when it’s one of your own, for the want of a better phrase, who sets out to strike at the heart of your civilised society? And Irish people, unfortunately, had been long conditioned to, or at least familiar with, the idea of Irish people blowing up Irish people, most of it taking place in Northern Ireland. Anyway, I started to wonder about what kind of target would be the most tempting for a terrorist who wanted to strike at the heart of Irish civilisation, and I quickly came up with the building that generally takes pride of place in most Irish towns in these increasingly secular times, the hospital. Now the hospital, in my opinion, represents the epitome of human advancement, being a kind of totem to compassion, the place where we take care of those who cannot take care of themselves - the sick, the old, the very young. Karlsson, hospital porter, more or less agrees, although - his mind diseased by logic - he believes that hospitals are actually a bad thing, in that eventually the process of keeping the sick and aged alive beyond their allotted span will eventually lead to a fatal weakening of the human race. And so, Karlsson believes, he needs to blow up a hospital in order to alert humanity to its clear and present danger …

So that was the first draft, which went in the drawer to gather dust while I went off to write THE BIG O, which was a comedy caper crime novel, and a lot more fun to write. Fast forward a few years, to when my wife was about to have our first baby; being totally clueless about what being a father would entail, I made the grand gesture (or so I thought) of announcing that I wouldn’t write at all for six months after the baby was born, so that I might be in some way useful. Writing being what it is, that lasted about three weeks; the compromise I suggested was that instead of writing something new, I’d redraft an old story (of which there were quite a few in the drawer at this stage). A couple of days later, standing at the office window staring out into my back yard (an essential part of the creative process, or so I’m led to believe), Karlsson ‘appeared‘, saying, “What about me? You created me, you brought me to life - but I’m stuck in this half-life limbo, this purgatory. Publish or I’m damned.” And so Karlsson - now calling himself Billy - and I sat down to rewrite the story. My part was to make him a more likeable sociopath, so he wouldn’t overly scare the horses; his job was to follow through and actually blow up the hospital, so as to give publishers a ‘high concept’ hook to hang the book on. And now, dear reader, read on …

OBAAT: Casting aside your renowned humility for a second, how did you get such an unorthodox book published in the current climate?

DB: Persistence and the kindness of strangers. AZC went out to a host of publishers, most of whom replied with rejection letters that began, “This is a wonderful story, but …” Eventually, I put the manuscript away again, and started working on something else. Then a colleague of mine (I review movies as part of my day job) asked to read it; she came back to me very enthusiastic about the book, and demanded that I start sending it out again, virtually shaming me into doing something about it. I took her at her word, and began sending out the book again. It was very quickly snapped up by Liberties Press, which is a relatively small but perfectly formed and very ambitious Irish publisher … In a way it’s very gratifying, particularly as the hard road to getting published is bound up in the story of AZC, and - grotesquely exaggerated, of course - how constant rejection can be so punishing as to impact negatively on the mind. Had I written the story and had it published straight away, I’d feel like a bit of a fraud; doing it this way, the long way, the hard way, makes it feel like I’ve actually earned it.

Thanks for taking the time to chat today, Declan. Absolute Zero Cool can be purchased (as a paperback or e-book) from either Amazon in the US or Amazon UK. Don’t dawdle, or you’ll feel like a twit when everyone else is giggling behind their copies and you still haven’t got the joke. Until you realize it’s on you.

Absolute Zero Cool

My friendship with Declan Burke predates this blog. I met him via an interview after I had reviewed his novel The Big O, the appeal of which has not diminished with the passage of three years. He is a splendid person, a good friend and confederate, and has bucked me up more times than I care to remember as having needed to be bucked up.

His new book, Absolute Zero Cool, was officially released on July 7, though the big party will be August 10 at the award-winning Gutter Bookshop, Temple Bar, in Dublin. Stop by and hoist a pint or three; say “Dana sent me” and I’m sure Dec will give you a hale fellow well met slap on the back. (He’ll do it, anyway, but I always wanted to tell someone to say, “Dana sent me,” and this was my chance.)

My copy was pre-ordered and is winging/floating its way across the Atlantic Ocean to me as we speak. It will get bumped immediately to the head of my To Be Read queue, as a brief taste of an early draft told me this is something I’m going to want to read, and I’m already damned tired of waiting for it.

What’s that? Who the hell am I to tell you what to read, since I’ve already said I’m in the tank for Dec? Fine. Don’t take my word for it. To hell with you. Do yourself a favor, though, and see what others, people who have actually demonstrated some game, say about Absolute Zero Cool:

“A genuinely original take on noir, inventive and funny. Imagine, if you can, a cross between Flann O’Brien and Raymond Chandler.” – John Banville, author of THE SEA

Who in their right mind would want to blow up a hospital?

“Close it down, blow it up – what’s the difference?”

Billy Karlsson needs to get real. Literally. A hospital porter with a sideline in euthanasia, Billy is a character trapped in the purgatory of an abandoned novel. Deranged by logic, driven beyond sanity, Billy makes his final stand: if killing old people won’t cut the mustard, the whole hospital will have to go up in flames.

Only his creator can stop him now, the author who abandoned Billy to his half-life limbo, in which Billy schemes to do whatever it takes to get himself published, or be damned . . .

“ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL is unlike anything else you’ll read this year … Laugh-out-loud funny … This is writing at its dazzling, cleverest zenith. Think John Fowles, via Paul Auster and Rolling Stone … a feat of extraordinary alchemy.” – Ken Bruen, author of AMERICAN SKIN

Advance Praise for ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL:

“Stop waiting for Godot – he’s here. Declan Burke takes the existential dilemma of characters writing themselves and turns it on its ear, and then some. He gives it body and soul … an Irish soul.” - Reed Farrel Coleman, author of EMPTY EVER AFTER

“Declan Burke has broken the mould with ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL, which is actually very cool indeed. Funny, inventive and hugely entertaining crime fiction - I guarantee you’ll love it.” - Melissa Hill, author of SOMETHING FROM TIFFANY’S

“If you want to find something new and challenging, comic crime fiction is now the place to go … Declan Burke [is] at the vanguard of a new wave of young writers kicking against the clichés and producing ambitious, challenging, genre-bending works.” - Colin Bateman, author of NINE INCHES

“ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL is a surreal rollercoaster of a read, full of the blackest humour, and yet poignant. An outrageously funny novel ... The joy is in the writing itself, all sparky dialogue and wry observation, so smooth that when it cuts, it’s like finding razor blades in honey.” - Deborah Lawrenson, author of THE LANTERN

“Burke has written a deep, lyrical and moving crime novel … an intoxicating and exciting novel of which the master himself, Flann O’Brien, would be proud.” - Adrian McKinty, author of FIFTY GRAND

Now that your appetite has been whetted, you can queue up for your copy here.

Mark Your Calendar

July 7 is a red letter day. No, not just because it’s Doc Severinsen’s birthday (also Gustav Mahler’s, but I never met Mahler personally, nor played a gig with him), but because Declan Burke’s new book, Absolute Zero Cool will drop this Thursday.

Dec has been a good friend to me and to this blog for several years, so yes, I’m in the tank. It should also be noted that we became acquainted when I interviewed him after reading and reviewing The Big O, which earned a highly coveted place on my ten best reads of 2008. (If Michelle Bachman can call herself a presidential candidate, I can call a spot on my list highly coveted.) It was the quality of his writing that served as our initial introduction; it wasn’t till later I learned what a good guy he is. A tireless promoter of all things good in Irish (and other) crime writing, his blog is updated more often Lindsey Lohan’s rap sheet. How his writing has failed to gain traction is pone of the great mysteries of the 21st Century, right up there with Snooki’s popularity.

I haven’t read AZC yet, so no spoiler warnings are necessary. Here’s the description from Irish Books Direct:

‘This man at the foot of my bed is too sharply dressed to be anything but a lawyer or a pimp. He is reading, intently, which leads me to believe he is more likely a pimp, as these days lawyers are more usually to be found writing novels than reading them.’ So begins an unforgettable trip into the seedy crime underworld and deep inside the author’s head. Rarely has a book within a book been more entertaining.

American readers can pre-order (as I have) at The Book Depository; shipping to the States is free. Based on Dec’s previous work and what I know of this book, it will be as much fun as you’re likely to have reading this year, and it will not go where you expect it.