I just finished Dennis Lehanes's
Moonlight Mile. Apparently you
can go home sometimes.
Twelve years after
Prayers for Rain which left Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro in a rather ambiguous state of affairs, Lehane gave fans the satisfying conclusion that they deserved. It took me a chapter or so to find where I left their voices in my head, but I found them and ripped right through the book. While the previous five are completely standalone novels (I read the first two out of order with no difficulties), the last one wouldn't be as good without knowing prior events. Don't get me wrong—everything you need is there to make it a stand-alone, but I wouldn't suggest it.
I only had two small beefs:
1) Interior decorator/Fashion consultant syndrome: Maybe Lehane's done it all along and I just never caught it, but each new chapter/scene starts with a short (but extremely detailed) description of what someone is wearing and what decor they are surrounded by. Brand-names, colors—the works. This would normally piss me off, but Lehane seems to have discovered just how much free reign he can give his (obviously) inner-fashionista before it becomes distracting.
2) The title. In each of the previous novels, the title of the book was used in a sentence by one of the characters at some point in the book. That didn't happen this time (the prologue with a verse from the Rolling Stones' song doesn't count). Kinda-corny, I know, but it's something I always looked forward to. I don't think there's any way that the omission of the tradition from this book was an accident.
Anyway... as always, Lehane's strength is his characters: in all their flawed, beautiful/ugly human-ness. And in his ability to throw out enough clues that you can somewhat predict where everything is ultimately heading, yet still hold just enough back to keep the reader riveted until the very end where: a) you will always discover that you missed at least one important detail along the way. b) the seemingly simple concepts of right and wrong become clear as mud.
