We're in a frenzied search for under appreciated web sites and blogs hiding below the static noise level. Our specialty is substantive amplification, advocacy, critique, and flourish. We want to help you get it across. It's the Marconi in us. / T.B.Scarpacci
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Book Review...Tom Clancy's "Red Rabbit"
I'm a Tom Clancy apprecianado (aficionado, too). Hunt for Red October upped my sub-loving story career by two notches, and so Clancy's name is written up top on my shelf of books and movies. This week, Red Rabbit came to me via the public library. I'm duty bound to report that this 618 page novel was meant for someone else...not me. About 50 pages into Rabbit, I figured out that this book is mostly color and very little black and white. I learned 50 lessons about places and ideas I wasn't interested in, but none of Tom's invitations to a conceptual dance of descriptive images sank in. On the other hand, my last affair with a Tom Clancy novel was a long and complete waltz to the lilt of "Threat Vector", and I was spellbound. Tom spun and leapt. I followed, and the whole bash made good sense. I heard the orchestra's song for hours after packing the book away into the "out" box.
I'm suspicious that Red Rabbit is a gristy brick concocted for some other reason (not literature). Don't be fooled by the entry stage left by the Pope. There's too much distraction stirred in with sand and gravel for a story to pop up all by itself.
I may rewind The Hunt for Red October and watch it again tonight.