Janet Evanovich Book Review: Look Alive Twenty-Five
Stephanie Plum, By the Numbers
At my age, I shouldn’t have to confess to guilty pleasures, but I have two in the literary realm. One of those is reading each new Stephanie Plum novel immediately upon publication. Look Alive Twenty-Five by Janet Evanovich is the latest.
I could say the Stephanie Plum novels are formulaic. Each features a predictable set of recurring core and supporting characters. In each novel, Evanovich manages to add a quirky collection of Trenton, NJ citizens who’ve run afoul of the law. They fail to appear for a scheduled court date in violation of their bail. Formally known as FTAs (Failure To Appear), Plum is assigned to hunt them down, deliver them to the Trenton PD, and Plum’s employer issues a new bond to guarantee future court appearances.
There are some things we know to be true of Ms. Plum.
First, despite her college education, she cannot secure conventional employment. She remains in the former industrial powerhouse that was once Trenton (“Trenton makes, the world takes”), where she is close to her family, the old neighborhood, and public school mates. Plum takes the unsteady work as a bond enforcement agent for her cousin Vinnie’s bail bond agency. The agency is bizarre central where the basic characters commune, eat donuts, cast aspersions on Vinnie’s many peccadillos, and occasionally provide her with the names and backgrounds of FTAs.
Second, like many of her age, Plum is divorced from an ex-husband who cheated on her with an unscrupulous rival. Thankfully, the rival does not make an appearance in Look Alive Twenty-Five, nor is any mention made of her ex. Just as well. We have grown to despise them.
Depending on your point of view concerning commitment, Plum is either lucky or not where the two men in her life are concerned. While she is engaged to Morelli, a homicide and/or major crimes cop, marriage does not appear imminent. Her will-she-or-won’t-she marry-her-beau attitude reflects the strong attraction she harbors for an ex-special force’s security contractor, Ranger, who is both alike, and yet unlike, Morelli. Neither gentleman appears to be the marrying kind.
Plum’s long-suffering mother finds her daughter’s work unbecoming bordering on the scandalous. Mom wants Stephanie married, like her sister, with her own unusual children, and a husband on the scene. I did mention Plum’s commitment issues. So it should come as no surprise that Plum is ambivalent about children as well.
Grandma Mazur finds her granddaughter’s work exciting and is often at the ready to assist in apprehensions, to ride shotgun in pursuit of FTAs, while carrying her own loaded handgun. Stephanie’s handgun is almost always without ammunition—by choice. I wish Grandma Mazur made a few more appearances in Look Alive Twenty-Five. Unfortunately, there are too few funerals, casket viewings, and free cookies at the favorite funeral home. Funerals are oxygen for Grandma Mazur while Grandma Mazur is not oxygen for the funeral home, the bereaved, and in general, law and order—and especially decorum.
Third, Plum has a most distinctive companion. Lula, a self-described former ‘ho, is a ten pound ball in a five pound package! There is at least two-to-three times as much Lula as textiles. Her choices in clothing, hair, nails, and shoes passed the state line of scandalous and can no longer be seen in the figurative rear view mirror. Her large, always loaded handgun befits her outsized personality and is always at the ready. And discharge it to no good effect she does.
Fourth, Ranger’s fascination with Plum is expressed in one word: Babe. She does good: Babe. Outrageous: Babe. Pathetic: Babe. In Look Alive Twenty-Five, Ranger has finally learned to keep Plum under constant surveillance rather than run to her aid when necessary—which is often. Need I mention that Ranger’s staff seldom fare well in these assignments.
Fifth, Plum and cars don’t mix. Stolen, demolished, burned, submerged—no car goes unpunished. Ranger lends Plum a seemingly unlimited number of expensive corporate vehicles. Most exit the scene on the back of a car hauler. The only surviving car is a dead relative’s aged, oversized land yacht whose fuel economy is measured in gallons per mile.
Sixth, Plum, Lula, Morelli, and her mother have horrible eating habits and make even worse dietary choices. There’s Pino’s pizza, Cluck in a Bucket, always the bakery and donut shops, and Cheerios for dinner when all else fails. Her mother’s meals evoke an earlier time in home cooking, a tsunami of fat, carbohydrates, and cholesterol, and a future heart attack made to order.
Seventh, each novel is structured around apprehending FTAs. Some apprehensions are simple, straightforward. Still others require multiple attempts, some chicanery and physical altercations designed to show Plum and Lula are far better suited for almost any other line of work than the one they’re in. Babe, as Ranger would say.
Finally, there is at least one, and sometimes two apprehensions per novel requiring the reader to suspend belief, suspend disbelief, and sometimes both. In the twenty-fourth novel it was zombies. In Look Alive Twenty-Five, it’s a small diner where managers disappear in the back alley while taking out the trash. I won’t spoil the ending by ratting out Evanovich with a list of managers who survive and those who don’t.
The diner has come into Vinnie’s possession when an FTA misses a court appearance having pledged the eatery as collateral for bail. Vinnie assigns Stephanie Plum to be the latest manager and Lula comes along as the infamous sous chef and sandwich maker extraordinaire.
Did I mention the local musician, rock star who only performs at an ersatz venue assembled out of derelict buildings and grounds in Trenton’s garden spot of garden spots: Stark Street? This troubled part of town may not be the end of the earth and civilization, but you can clearly see the end from there.
No review or reviewer can capture the masterful way in which Evanovich weaves this polyester tapestry. It’s all so unbelievable, and yet, if you’re like me, you’re hooked from the first page. You can see what’s coming. You know the characters emerge worse for the wear and tear, but you’ll still giggle, laugh, or guffaw.
No one can top Evanovich in the perils of Stephanie Plum.
Read it!
Babe.
Comments
Post a Comment