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There's nothing more enjoyable than a nice little noir tale. And what could be darker than hanging out with the sleazoids of Wichita, Kansas, on Christmas Eve? Just the concept of being at strip clubs and down-and-out bars while everyone else is caroling and roasting chestnuts on an open fire is enough to make me rub my hands with glee. Joy to the world. Or so I thought until I got halfway into this book. Charlie Arglist, lawyer to the scuzballs, has something big up his sleeve. It's Christmas Eve, and he's preparing to leave town for good. We don't really know why, but we follow Charlie as he says his good-byes to the inhabitants of the town and his family. Actually, ex-family would be more appropriate, as he is divorced and hasn't seen his kids in a long time. The family leavetaking is not exactly a Hallmark moment. There's some humor in the book, and Phillips does a good job of setting up the situation in the first half of the book, building suspense around exactly why Charlie is leaving town. Then, at the halfway point in the book, we find out what Charlie's been up to. After this, the tension in the book is lost and it becomes rather a standard guy-going-down-the-tubes tale with a trick ending. Pffffffttt. Charlie may not have lived a sterling life, but his misdemeanors were never much to talk about. That changes in a big way. The Ice Harvest has been nominated for many awards. I fail to see what the hoop-la is all about. Call me Scrooge.
Reviewed by Maddy Van Hertbruggen, November 2001
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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