Sunday, September 5, 2010

By Reviewed by Jennifer O'Lear

"Landini Cadence"

By Hal Howland

Black Rose Writing

$16.95

Hal Howland's passion for music bleeds across the lines drawn between decades, genres and disciplines. A local performer, composer, teacher and writer, his takes on "the life percussive" have appeared in scores of magazines, journals, newspapers and, recently, between the covers of his book, "The Human Drummer."

Back in 2008, however, Howland changed his tune and turned his attention to fiction in the story and two novellas that make up "After Jerusalem." It is there, in the book's first novella, that readers are introduced to full-time homicide detective/part-time drummer Rich Castillo, his girlfriend Victoria Landini and a supporting cast of Key West characters who are at the heart of "Landini Cadence," Howland's newest release.

They're a group that's anything but run-of-the-mill by the standards of Keys fiction. That is to say that they're not hard-partying eccentrics. They're "normies" who inhabit the workaday world -- the kind of regular, flawed folks who, in the words of Capra hero George Bailey, do "most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community."

But normal does not mean boring. As Rich Castillo unravels the mystery surrounding nine murders that are linked by extramarital sex and a hyper-Christian notion of sin, the group encounters a series of sticky situations and outlandishly crazed (but still creepy) villains that make for a thoroughly twisted tale of murder, morality and mayhem, here at the end of the road.

On its surface the novel is a well-structured work that fits cozily into the niche of crime fiction, a pitch-perfect poolside read that's amply disturbing and compelling. What sets it apart is its most unexpected gift: An unflinching look at the politics and customs at work in our sunny island chain.

While ratcheting up the suspense in the mystery's thread, the author grows bold when it comes to pelting our culture's sacred cows and lays bare some funny (in both senses of the word) uncomfortable truths about our environment, ethics, arts, tourism and development.

I could say that no stone remains unturned in "Landini Cadence." That Howland leaves no stone unthrown is perhaps more accurate. To wit, one of my more favorite passages, a letter to the editor of Solares Hill (based on a real letter from Howland that appeared in this publication back in 2005) that details the business of "Arts Criticism in a Small Town."

On the one hand, since local government is spending millions of dollars telling the world that Key West is an arts destination, some artists, presenters, writers and patrons should expect more of themselves than they do. On the other hand, we all have to face one another in the grocery store.

But it is not the critic's job to pamper professional artists and presenters. The critic's responsibilities are to recommend good art, to save patrons the expense of supporting bad art and occasionally to help readers know the difference. Those organizations that charge money for their performances should be held to the high standards of the real world.

I used to write for a music magazine that boasted an enlightened review policy: We wrote about the good stuff and ignored the bad, assuming the latter would fall of its own weight. Perhaps we Key Westers should adopt a similar attitude: report on the rare artistic efforts that deserve our attention. That way there would be more pages available for the only truly important issue we face: saving our environment.

I moved here for the weather, the water and the foliage. Those who still believe in our dubious cultural image should examine what they are doing to improve it.

How's that for an antidote to the spell beneath which we artists and reviewers all labor, in varying degrees of severity and with varying degrees of success?

To my mind it's one that mostly works, although I'm not sure if the "real world's" general standards are all that much higher than ours. Even in major cities, it's pretty easy to find "bad art."

Pampering aside, if I harbor any real regret about Hal Howland's book, it's one that I won't be embarrassed to own the next time I see him in person. While the style and detail made it clear that he relished revealing the characters' back stories, he doled them out in quick chapters that I wish had been more expansive. If there's a sequel planned (and I'm hoping there is; I don't think these characters -- or Howland, for that matter -- have quite said their piece), perhaps he'll provide the opportunity for readers to revel in them the way he so obviously did himself.

All told, "Landini Cadence" is like a trip up US 1 in the back of a pickup truck at dawn. Although the ride isn't without a bump or two, the air is surprisingly fresh. As the sun comes up, the view is spectacular, and suddenly, you remember why it is that you live here.