When I first read through the Matthew Scudder series, I couldn’t appreciate Eight Million Ways to Die for what it is.
I had avoided the Scudder series for a long time because alcoholic ex-cop PI held no appeal for me. I learned that Matt grows with the series over time. And I did as well. It’s documented in other reviews, I won’t rehash here. Just check the tag.
But this one is always considered his best work. And when I read it…I mean, it was good. I liked it. Thought it had too many cliches (serial killer stalks sex workers, I mean, c’mon) but was good for what it was. If I was going to pick a random work of Block’s off the shelf, this wouldn’t have been my first choice.
But reading it now, I see how deeply Matthew struggles with alcohol and how Block allows that to play out in the rawest way possible. He’s drinking to avoid confronting Estrellita Rivera’s death. He’s drinking to avoid Kim’s death. Yes this can work if you are a good writer. And Block is so good!
The crime was more of an opportunity to look at how New York City swallows people whole, specifically in the 1980s. And to that end, I could appreciate it more, even if it’s the most boring thing. This book’s strength is Matt GOYAKOD-ing his way through the mean streets, meeting characters and trying hard, so hard not to drink. It’s what makes the last lines feel powerful and earned.
I think as I get older, those kinds of human touches resonate with me more than they did in round one. Matt’s stress is evident on page-after-page, his impending death by drink feels real. And Block, who by his own admission is a recovering alcoholic, writes with a knowledgable perspective.
Again, I don’t care for cliches. But I love great writing. And I know it when I read it. This is great writing.