It’s 1980 and amateur photographer Dan Abatangelo “…blew into Las Vegas the first week of spring, primed to hit the tables, sniff the wildlife, maybe cat around a bit. Given his focus was pleasure, not business, he saw no need for an alias.” This is the introduction to David Corbett’s debut novel a decade ago. It was nominated for both the Anthony and Barry Awards for Best First Novel of 2002. Now, for the first time available in a beautifully formatted eBook with a new, and starkly evocative cover, from MysteriousPress.com/Open Road. A decade ago, it bode well for ex-private eye Corbett’s future as a novelist. That opening somehow makes the reader like Abatangelo, yet tells us that he has some yet to be revealed flaws. The fact that ‘if’ he was focused on business, he would use an alias. What kind of businessman uses an alias? Yet, despite his idea of fun being gambling, “sniffing” the wildlife and catting around, there is a sense of realness to Abatangelo, and there is somehow a likeability. The scene goes on and has him joking with the desk clerk, flirting a bit. He checks in, goes to his room, showers, then has a leisurely dinner, and heads for the casino. He avoids the tourists, isn’t impressed with the “kitschy pandemonium” and then the narrator reveals that, “Years later, he would reflect that the only thing louder than a Vegas casino at night is the inside of a prison.” There it is again. Abatangelo is likeable, fun loving, not a shallow man (he avoids the touristy stuff) and not a novice (he’s not impressed by the ‘metallic clamor and the popping of lights’) yet, he is no innocent, since we know that in the coming years he’ll learn that a prison is louder than a casino floor. All of this is a perfect opening, a masterful opening to a modern noir novel. Dan Abatangelo is a likeable character, but he isn’t exactly a knight in shining armor either ( he cats around, gambles, is in a business where he’d consider using an alias and he’s going to learn about the inside of a prison). He goes on to pick out a table to play twenty-one, mostly because of the women dealing the cards. She was stunning, “She had the kind of smile that said: Gentlemen, start your engines.” And four hours later he leaves the casino with Shel Beaudry, having incited her into walking off her job. Before the night is over they are in bed and on their way to being in love. Shel is also painted as a lady with a past, a street smart woman who also is no innocent, but an admirable person, a strong woman just the same. Three days later, the whirlwind romance continues, they fly to San Diego for the ocean breeze. They finally crawl out of bed and start to do couples things. See the sites, enjoying the nightlife and they start to share more than just their bodies, more than just sex. Little by little, they reveal more and more about themselves. Shel wonders how a photographer has so much money to throw around. He compares himself to the poet, Rimbaud; “He gave up poetry and ended up running guns in Abyssina.” he tells her. When this causes Shel to frown just a little, he reveals that he doesn’t like guns. Doesn’t like what they do to people. Finally he comes clean with her, He gives her a gold an amethyst necklace and tells her the story of the goddess Amethyst and the god, Bacchus. Then he gives her a chance to walk away when she realizes that the legend isn’t the only story behind the gift. He isn’t a rich photographer, but a high level pot smuggler. He had a chain of dummy companies to hide all the money in and he had a credo: No guns, no gangsters.It’s only money.So, Dan Abatangelo is revealed as a knight in tarnished armor. In many ways the perfect protagonist of a modern noir story. He may be an outlaw, but not ‘really’ a criminal. Shel loves him, they make unspoken commitments to each other, except Shel stipulates, “I see guns, I’m gone.” Two years later, the federal government, contrary to Abatangelo self-image, bust them and Abatangelo’s crew bringing in a big shipment. Abatangelo takes the fall, so Shel will get a lighter sentence and he gets ten years. Dan is still in love with Shel, and Shel tries to hold on for Dan to get out, but not knowing if he’ll even want her when he does get out, and because they won’t be able to see each other even when he does because of parole stipulations, she ends up with a damaged man. Frank is a loser crank head who Shel falls for over a sob story of how his doper girlfriend killed Franks son. Frank is on a mental and chemical slow boat to hell, and he’s taking Shel down with him. The people Frank owes for his habit aren’t the gentleman pot smugglers who eschew guns. These are hyped up redneck violent criminals, the kind of people Dan avoided and couldn’t identify with. And they have plenty of guns and speed freaks to fire them.When Frank decides to double cross his dealers and sets up an ambush that goes wrong, he drops Shel in the middle of a cartel war in the delta area of northern California. When Dan, who decides he has to see Shel, walks in in the middle of the war, he is lucky to escape, and though’ he rescues Shel, she decides she has to protect Dan and goes back to try and extricate herself, Frank and Dan from the gang. What follows is an action packed chase through a nightmare of crank dealers and the over the top gang wars between a redneck gang and a Mexican gang and Shel is just a pawn, a bargaining chip to be discarded without a thought. It’ a story that is filled with violence, betrayal, suspicion and tragedy and senseless killing on every side. The cops are powerless, or corrupt, and Shels only ally is a scarred young Mexican gangster, with a romantic streak whose only real loyalty is to himself. At first Dan is on the periphery of this crime war, there are many reasons for him to not get involved. First, it could land him back in prison. Secondly, he hates guns and isn’t experienced with this level of violence. His one reason for getting involved is his love for Shel but he must find away into the war and into the midst of the rival gangs and he has few resources to aid him on his way.The author, David Corbett devised a story and a complicated plot that are mostly winners, and the characters of Dan and Shel are excellent in the noir genre. They are real, they are both noble and flawed; both sinners and saints. The character of Frank is one who draws the readers sympathy as well as our scorn. In many ways he is a ‘child of a lessor god’, the only thing to like about him is his story, which proves to be a lie. Frank could have been fleshed out just a little more and not to have teetered on the edge of caricature before tipping into that void. For the most part the other characters, both large and small are cardboard cut outs, whether they be drunken crusader-reporters, crooked cops and politicians, bad guys or mindless thugs badder guys.However, the development of the minor or secondary characters is just about the only flaw in Corbett’s debut. There were a couple of places in the resolution of the plot where the scenes begged the reader to suspend reality, but these could be easily forgiven when the meth driven criminals were involved and it was easy to believe they suspended reality everyday. Further, the plot stops and starts in places as Corbett expands on developing the sense of place; the shady bars, the street life, a character agonizing in a lonely motel room, or sitting at his kitchen table trying to decide what to do next.But Corbett did proved himself a master of delivering a sense of place (even if at the expense of the plots flow) both in the physical environs of the books setting, and in the psyche of the drug scene of the early ‘90s. Corbett’s dialog is beautiful as well as the narration. Despite the flaws, which can for the most part be forgiven, I was tempted to give this book Five Stars. It is wonderfully dark noir. And it was written when the genre really needed both new players and rescue from sinking into parody. But, judged against his work since then, it’s only fair to rank it slightly lower.Today, a decade later, David Corbett has risen to be one of the vanguard of brilliant noir novelists. He continues to write award winning and critically praise crime stories. But, as one of the vanguard of the brilliant, he has added penning books on the craft of writing (The Art Of Character), manuscript reviewing and editing services, and lecturing at seminars, classes and workshops for aspiring novelists. He also regularly contributes to MURDERATI, one of the most engaging and informative blogs on writing and the writing life on the web.Article first published as Book Review: The Devil's Redhead by David Corbett on Blogcritics.The Dirty Lowdown
The Devil's Redhead" will entertain readers by the unusual actions of the protagonist.Danny Abatangelo is a freelance photographer and also a smuggler. He has an entire crew bringing in drugs to the west coast area.One night he is celebrating in Las Vegas and meets Shel Beaudre a redheaded card dealer with a magnetic personality. The two hit if off immediately and eventually end up back at the west coast. He explains his life to Shel but promises yes for marijuana but no to guns or gangsters.On what was to be his last run, he gets caught and when he won't give up his crew, he's sentenced to ten years. Agents still try to get him to turn on his partner and use Danny's sick mother as a promise to see her if he'd rat on his friend but Danny is true to his friends so does the entire ten years.Shel seemed so terrific but she gets out of prison after five years and eventually meets another man, Frank Maas. Frank is a needy person and is into drugs and robbery. He suffers a tragedy about his former wife and child and Shel feels that Frank relies on her and she can't see past him.The first part of the story is interesting and suspenseful. Part two deals with Frank working with a group of Mexicans against a biker gang. Frank is in the middle of this and when Danny arrives to rescue Shel, the Mexicans want to use her as a hostage.Danny is an ethical man and his unfulfilled love makes a good story line. The warfare between the Mexicans and the biker and his gang is a bit of a stretch.All and all, a story with action and suspense that provides a good read.Michael A. Draper, Author wrote this review 2 days ago. ( reply | edit | permalink )
What do You think about The Devil's Redhead (2002)?
David Corbett has a finely tuned sense of tragedy. A palpable sadness pervades the proceedings without ever dipping into being simply depressing. The story could be simply described as the attempts of two ex-lovers to reconnect. This simple desire is complicated by prison terms, suicidal/homicidal new lovers, and a brutal drug war. Corbett undercuts whatever romantic tendencies with realism and an investigative/journalistic streak. He essays in this novel (and in an interesting essay on his website) about how the D.E.A.and other agencies drove the hippies out of the drug trade and let the real thugs takeover (the bikers and narcotrafficantes). This book’s plot seems to stretch a little bit by the end but the characters remain convincing and the tension never lessens once it takes off.
—Adam
It’s so hip to be noir. To read it or write it. It’s the most respectable of genres, the one most thoroughly assimilated into the mainstream of the American Literary Canon. Chandler, Hammett, Elroy, the list goes on and on of the pulp hacks who escaped the ghettoification of their humble , depraved and dirty roots to go toe to toe with their more genteel Literary brothers and sisters to stand firm and bloodied as that rarest of writing breeds: those who will be read by posterity. I mean is there any other serious contender for greatest living American Novelist than James Elroy? Anyone? So the smart kiddies are reading noir now. Their mams and paps at the NY Times and New Yorker told them it was good for them, so they lap it up like Wheaties, yum yum so good. And if the neophytes can’t tell the difference in quality between an artistic troglodyte and reactionary like say Mickey Spillane and the literary sophistication, beadth of cultural knowledge and depth of humanity of a James Sallis, well, fuck it. It’s all about moving units anyhow. Right? But let’s just suppose you are interested in good writing. And you like your noir with a little bit of heart, a little bit of light flashing through the artfully shot (in black and white)window blinds, are even, dare I mention it, someone who can dig a little bit of romance amidst all the gun play, exploding heads, severed limbs and tough guys metaphorically comparing cock size chapter after chapter. Have I got the guy for you.Corbett’s the name. David Corbett, from foggy Northern Cal, granddaddy Hamett’s old stomping grounds. And just like Hamett, Corbett used to be a private detective! What is more frigging noir than that? Anyhow. I’ve read three of his novels. And boy can the guy write. He has grown increasingly more ambitious with each novel, dealing with socioeconomic and geo-political issues with a steady hand and an insightful mind that in the area of the US policy towards central and south America comes off with the force and vision of some old testament prophet. But l’m here to talk about his first novel The Devil’s Redhead. And while it lacks the scope of his later novels, it is damn fine, one of the best first novels I’ve read in a long while. The basic plot follows an ex dope drug dealer, Dan Abatangelo as he leaves prison with the near obsessive thought of finding his former lady love, Shel Beaudry who might’ve been the one to betray him to the cops. Shel has hooked up with some world class baddies that make Abatangelo look like the recreational toker and hippie gentleman he used to be. But they don’t realize that Dan the Man has been hardened, hardened by prison I say, and he is going to rescue and woo his woman back or die trying. Yep. So Dan crosses paths with the gang of misbegotten muthas who hold the fair Shel hostage and much mayhem ensues. Blood! Guts! Hard Drug usage! Escapes galore! Bombs blowing things up! Wonderful action set pieces. Heroes who act like villains, villains forced to become heroes! And so much more…I won’t say anybody can write action scenes or clever gun battles or plot worth a damn or just entertain and keep the reader reading frome page to page. Some thriller writers seem to lack even those rudimentary skills. But what sets Corbett apart from most and what makes him worth reading is the way he juxtaposes moments of quiet intimacy and focused observation with the chaos. He writes about the simple joys of a walk in North Beach better than anyone I’ve read. He describes Dan’s passion for photography, of the transformative and soul-quieting effect it has on him with such easy grace that you know the man knows of what he speaks of. And there is one character in particular Frank, Shel’s erstwhile boyfriend during Dan’s stay in the can, who is unlike anything I’ve read in recent American Literature. He is haunted by an unimaginable tragedy, the recent murder of his wife and son, victims in a way of his own depravity and greed. Frank, as a result, has become a hollow caricature of a man, a random collections of tics and dissociative thinking, a violent and bad man with a paranoid streak a mile long. He is nothing but trouble for Shel and brings shit storms down on her and everyone around them. And yet Corbett writes about him with such nuance and specificity that he comes so completely alive and one ends up feeling awash in compassion towards him at the same time that one wants him utterly snuffed out so the characters around him can arrive at a safer, less chaotic place. So. To loop it back up. Noir is good. Fills your bones with marrow, your loins with mojo, straightens out crooked spines, whitens teeth, freshens breath and is downright salvific in its properties. Read it. Read it. Read it. It’s good good good. And if you are going to read it(you know you are, all the cool kids are doing it) please give David Corbett a try. You won’t regret it. http://www.davidcorbett.com/commentar...
—D. Pow
