National Features >

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Agent from Iran

    How a mother of two ended up in a plot to smuggle high-tech gear to the enemy.

    By Deirdra Funcheon

  • Westword

    Murder By Design

    In life and death, tattoo artist Kauri Tiyme made her mark.

    By Alan Prendergast

  • Village Voice

    My Brother the Slumlord

    Amy Neustein never could resist going public with her family dramas.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    The Ghosts of Galveston

    A visit with the hurricane victims that a country forgot.

    By John Nova Lomax

Noir Lord

Hardboiled Hammett meets Gibsonian cyberpunk

By Peter Breslin

Published on April 16, 2008 at 4:00am

Heard of the drug Lingo? Oh, boy, are you missing out. It’ll get you higher than Amy Winehouse while simultaneously ramping up your verbal IQ.

As with any designer drug, there are a few problems. There’s the homicidal-rage side effect, plus you may need to deal with a female police detective addicted to speed and rough sex. Also, it’s only available in a fictional New England rust-belt metropolis called Quinsigamond, the setting for Jack O’Connell’s five underworld novels, including the Lingo-literate Box Nine. (Writer James Ellroy hailed that book as “hyper-real noir,” admiring how it “chronicles a grotesque romance about genocide, language, bibliomania, doubt, obsession, worms, epidermis, and sanctuary!”)

O’Connell makes his first-ever visit to the Valley to read from his new novel, The Resurrectionist. The author, often referred to as the “cyberpunk Dashiell Hammett,” says, “How could I not be delighted with such a tag, as Hammett was certainly an early influence? And I was a great fan of cyberpunk in its 1980s heyday – William Gibson’s Neuromancer knocked me over when I first read it.” About The Resurrectionist, O’Connell adds, “I hope the reader finds it a straight-up ripping yarn – a thriller, a suspenser, an edge-of-the-seat page-turner.”


Tue., April 22, 7 p.m., 2008