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Jodi Picoult, Picture Perfect

Ich versuche mir die bisher noch nicht gelesenen Picoults einzuteilen, nicht nur weil die meisten mir einfach noch zu teuer sind, oder so schnell keine neuen zu erwarten sind (für "A Spark of Light" hat sie ja schon fast drei Jahre gebraucht), sondern mir die Geschichten einfach zu sehr unter die Haut gehen. Bei diesem im Hollywood der 90er und Pre-Internet angesiedelten Beziehungsdrama fragte ich mich zudem noch ständig, ob und wie sich die Story auf heutige Zeit übertragen lassen könnte. Zumindest Cassie's Verschwinden im Lakota-Reservat wäre wohl etwas problematischer zu bewerkstelligen. Aber es war auch fast erschreckend zu erkennen, wie viele Sachen sich nicht geändert haben.
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'You know that after the accident, Zack let go because of you,' Dorothea said aloud. 'He wouldn't have lived without you.' She knew it would be that way with herself and Cyrus, too - once one of them joined the spirit world, the other would die quickly so they would be together again. It had taken Dorothea years to understand, but now she was a firm believer: love was that way. You could not render it in black or white. It always came down to the strange, blended shades of gray.
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Alex's voice dropped dangerously low. 'You people lie in wait like animals and make rumors fester until they take precedence over the truth. Did you ever think about the lives of the people you're ruining? Did you ever think about the kind of damage you're doing when, in order to guarantee privacy, you force someone to take their family away? My career already makes me a public figure. You don't have to.' Alex took a step toward the silent group of reporters. 'Before you go pleading the first amendment, think about the rest of us who are pleading the fifth.'

(Jodi Picoult, Picture Perfect, 1995)

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Stephen King, Four Past Midnight

Während 'The Langoliers', dicht gefolgt von 'The Library Policeman' ganz oben in meiner Rangliste von Stephen King-Geschichten rangiert, habe ich die beiden anderen Novellen in dieser Anthologie, 'Secret Window, Secret Garden' und 'The Sun Dog' ein- oder höchstens zweimal wiedergelesen. Als Amazon kürzlich versuchte mir die einzelne Neuveröffentlichung von 'The Sun Dog' zum mehr als dem doppeltem Preis von dieser Anthologie anzudrehen, holte ich mir stattdessen diesen Band als E-Book und bereute es nicht. Überraschend fand ich vor allem wie zeitlos die Stories wirken, obwohl sie schon fast 30 (!) Jahre alt sind, selbst die Beschreibung der Technik in 'The Langoliers' hält einen Vergleich mit heutigen Verhältnissen durchaus stand. Ganz nebenbei mutete es in dem Vorwort von King, in dem er auf 15 Jahre als Autor zurückblickt, etwas amüsant und fast seltsam an, wie er durchblicken lässt, dass er den Höhepunkt seiner Laufbahn schon erreicht hat, nichtsahnend, dass noch mindestens zweimal soviel Jahre und mehr als doppelt so viele Bücher folgen werden.

'That was very brave and very foolish, my boy,' Bob Jenkins said. His face was dead white and he looked as if he might pass out himself in another few moments. 'Never believe a writer. Listen to them, by all means, but never believe them. My God, what if I'd been wrong?'

(Aus 'The Langoliers')

'I still don't understand that part,' Sam said, but he thought part of him did. It was as if his mind was some deep, dark body of water and there was a boat sunk at the bottom of it - but not just any boat. No - this was a pirate schooner, full of loot and dead bodies, and now it had begun to shift in the muck which had held it so long. Soon, he feared, this ghostly, glaring wreck would surface again, its blasted masts draped with black seaweed and a skeleton with a million-dollar grin still lashed to the rotting remais of the wheel.

(Aus 'The Library Policeman')

Stephen King, Four Past Midnight, 1990

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Jodi Picoult, Perfect Match

Eine ungewöhnliche und erschütternde Geschichte einer Mutter, die für ihr Kind Dinge tut, die sie selber für unmöglich gehalten hätte um es vor (weiterem) Schaden zu bewahren, und die bis zum Ende fesselnd bleibt, selbst über die Verurteilung hinaus. Ich sollte wohl die restlichen Picoults nicht zu schnell hintereinander weglesen, es braucht echt eine gute Portion Nerven. Bei allen.

"I wish I could tell you I never would ... but that wouldn't be true. I thought I knew this world. I thought I could control it. But just when you think you've got your life by the reins, that's when it's most likely to run away with you.
"I killed someone." The words burn on my tongue. "No, not just someone, but a wonderful man. An innocent man. That's something I'm going to carry with me, forever. And like any burden, it is going to get heavier and heavier ... except I'll never be able to put it down, because now it's a part of who I am." Turning to the jury, I repeat, "I would like to tell you that I'd never do anything like this again, but then, I never thought I was capable of doing anything like this in the first place. And as it turned out, I was wrong."

(Jodi Picoult, Perfect Match, 2001)

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Tana French, The Trespasser

Noch eine beinahe unglaublich fesselnde Geschichte von Frenchs neuem Dreamteam Conway/Moran, diesmal aus der Sicht von Antoinette Conway, die es hier schafft sich in der Murder Squad zu etablieren, nicht so sehr gegen äußere Widerstände, sondern vor allem durch Überwindung ihrer eigenen Überzeugungen und Ängste und des tiefsitzenden Verfolgungswahns. Dazu ein faszinierender Mordfall, bei dem während der Ermittlungen sich immer wieder neue Aspekte ergeben und ungewöhnliche Beziehungsgeflechte - was will man mehr. Jetzt kann ich nur hoffen, dass French das Dreamteam nochmal an den Start schickt - obwohl es schwierig sein dürfte, die beiden ersten Fälle noch zu übertreffen. Zutrauen würde ich es ihr aber.
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These people are pissing me off. The neediness of it, all of them jumping up and down and waving their arms and doing their cutest little booty-shakes for the internet: Me, look at me, like me, please oh please want me!!! The because-I'm-worth-it shower (looking for someone tall, slim, very fit, no smokers, no drugs, no kids, no pets, must have full time job and own car, must like fusion cuisine, speak at least three languages, enjoy bikram yoga and acid jazz...) are just as bad: ordering their relationship from the online menu because of course you have to have one, same as you have to have a state-of-the-art sound system and a pimped-out new car, and it's important to make sure you get exactly what you want. The only ones I can respect are the ones there on business: Ukrainian superbabes looking for older men down the country, with a view to marriage. All the rest could do with a good kick up the hole and a double shot of self respect.
No one needs a relationship. What you need is the basic cop-on to figure that out, in the face of all the media bullshit screaming that you're nothing on your own and you're a dangerous freak if you disagree. The truth is, if you don't exist without someone else, you don't exist at all. And that doesn't just go for romance. I love my ma, I love my friends, I love the bones of them. If any of them wanted me to donate a kidney or crack a few heads, I'd do it, no questions asked. And if they all waved goodbye and walked out of my life tomorrow, I'd still be the same person I am today.
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They make me edgy. Dozens and dozens of people, they just keep coming, and every single one of their heads is crammed with stories they believe, and stories they want to believe, and every story is battering against the thin walls of the person's skull, drilling and gnawing for its chance to escape and attack someone else, bore its way in and feed off that mind too. Even the cute little student mincing along in her flowery dress, the shuffling old fella with his shuffling spaniel, they look Ebola-lethal.

(Tana French, The Trespasser, 2016)

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Tana French, The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad 5)

Das könnte der Band in der Serie sein, der mir, wenn nicht am besten gefiel so doch am nahesten ging, nicht nur wegen der so einfühlsam und faszinierend beschriebenen Vorgeschichte des Mordes auf dem Gelände einer Mädchenschule und dem Einblick in das besondere Beziehungsgeflecht in der Freundschaft von vier Teenagern, sondern auch das Verhältnis der beiden Ermittler, die sich im Laufe eines Tages zusammenfinden. Jetzt bin ich gespannt wie sich das neu gebildete Team im nächsten Band macht.
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You forget what it was like. You'd swear on your life you never will, but year by year it falls away. How your temperature ran off the mercury, your heart galloped flat out and never needed to rest, everything was pitched on the edge of shattering glass. How wanting something was like dying of thirst. How your skin was too fine to keep out any of the million things flooding by; every colour boild bright enough to scald you, any second of any day could send you soaring or rip you to bloody shreds.
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Everyone's thought that: maybe even if, maybe we could still, maybe small bits of precious things can be salvaged. No one with cop-on thinks it after the first try. But her voice, quiet and sad, shimmering the air into those pearly colours: for a second I believed it, all over again.
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By the time I got away and found other girls, it was too late. When you stop being a kid, you lose your one chance at that too-tender-to-touch gold, that breathtaken everything and forever. Once you start growing up and getting sense, the outside world turns real, and your own private world is never everything again.
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(Tana French, The Secret Place, 2014)

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Michael Connelly, Two Kinds of Truth

Der letzte Bosch-Soloband stand schon länger auf meiner Wiederlesensliste, aber irgendwie bin ich nicht zu ihm gekommen bis jetzt. Und auch beim wiederlesen bleibt er unwiderstehlich spannend und überzeugt mit seinem grundsoliden Aufbau. Ein Handlungsstrang alleine hätte vielleicht schon gereicht, aber wie Bosch zwischen zwei Ermittlungen, eine davon gegen ihn selbst, hin und her gerissen wird, und sich dann am Ende, der Cold Case an dem er zu Beginn arbeitet, praktisch von selbst aufklärt, beeindruckt immer wieder.
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And this knowledge gave Bosch an affirming jolt of adrenaline and purpose. He knew there were two kinds of truth in this world. The truth that was the unalterable bedrock of one's life and mission. And the other, malleable truth of politicians, charlatans, corrupt lawyers, and their clients, bent and molded to serve whatever purpose was at hand.
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(Michael Connelly, Two Kinds of Truth, 2017)

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Dorothy J. Heydt, A Point of Honor

Das dritte Buch, das ich von Heydts Webseite runterladen konnte und obwohl (oder vielleicht weil) es so anders ist als die anderen mit seiner in naher Zukunft angesiedelten Fantasygeschichte in einer Computerspielwelt im Mittelalter, mit Turnieren, Questen und ja, auch Drachen, gefiel es mir mindestens genauso gut wie die anderen, wenn nicht besser. Die "reale" Welt ist fast erschreckend glaubwürdig geschildert und der technische Standard der VR-Welten macht Sinn. Und alles schreit nach einer Fortsetzung, aber ob wir sobald erfahren wie es mit Sir Mary und Brother Greg weitergeht, ist leider ungewiß ...
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It was becoming too quiet to suit Mary. It was almost as if she, like Greg, could look through empty hills and sky into the subroutines, automatic and unchanging, that generated them. Oh, someday all this landscape would be filled with moving things, birds and rabbits and people. As the last dregs of fossil fuel trickled out, unless solar cells improved the One True Storage Battery, people would have to abandon travel altogether, except by foot or fiber-optic cable.
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"The plug regulations are for your own safety. The mask laws are for the safety of others," Mary said. "If people can't regulate themselves, then you need laws. The damn-silliest laws you ever heard of come from someone having done something really stupid."

(Dorothy J. Heydt, A Point of Honor, 1998/2018)
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