Peter Straub is considered one of the greatest thriller
writers of our time; second only perhaps to the master Stephen King. Yet,
somehow I missed never reading anything by Straub. Anchor Books
re-released Koko, the first book in
the “Blue Rose Trilogy” in 2009.
The Washington Post claimed that the 1988 work was “brilliantly written…an inspired thriller…(Straub’s) finest work.” I was ready, eager, anxious, and waiting when the almost six-hundred-page paperback landed on my doorstep.
I cancelled my evening plans and curled on the couch, ready to be scared out of my wits. The story opens with four Vietnam vets returning to Washington, D.C, for the dedication of Vietnam Memorial. The four hadn’t seen each other since they left the service in 1968. Shadowing the emotional events of the dedication, the men---now a doctor, a lawyer, a blue-collar worker, and a restaurateur---are drawn together with the resurgence of a serial killer.
The killer, Koko, could be either the writer Tim Underhill or M.O. Dengler or a
Victor Spitlaney, from their old unit. But the four men are sure they are the
only ones left alive. They decide to go back to Singapore and Bangkok, in
search of their old Army buddies and to get to the bottom of the new murders,
all seemingly unrelated.
That’s a great scenario, but fifteen days later, I’m still reading Koko. The story plodded along in
agonizing detail. I read and read and read and read and read until my eyes
burned. I wasn’t scared once nor did I find this “masterpiece” a page turner.
When I finally did reach the last chapter, I have never been so disappointed in
my life. Straub changed narration and basically ended the story with an “what
happened? Nothing happened.” I know that is a set up for book two in the
trilogy, but I don’t care enough to even bother learning what the other two
titles are.
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