As I was listening to this book, I kept on going back and forth in my mind as to how much I really liked it. I was almost a third of the way through, and I still could not figure out where this story was headed.
I mean, it seemed like there should be no problem. Here are two guys with a used record store called "Brokeland Records" that is barely making it, and along comes an outside threat in the form of a competitor with a big, shiny, Amazon-like record store that is selling tons of stuff much cheaper than our heroes that is being backed by the local politician. And it turns out that both guys have interesting family issues. The real makings for a plot, resolution, etc. So why wasn't it going anywhere?
What I was listening to instead were extremely wordy data dumps about one character after another, got to know them inside-out. Also, there were abrupt changes of scene that, from a listening standpoint were jarring and disconcerting. I had to look at a physical copy of the book to make sure that there wasn't something wrong with the recording, that parts of the book hadn't been left out by mistake.
Then, somewhere almost halfway through the book, the plot wheezed to life, and the story finally started moving along in an extremely contrived way.
I only stuck it out because by that time I really wanted to know what was going to happen with the various characters. Mr. Chabon certainly has a gift for making characters believable and making the "reader" care about them. And because of Clarke Peters' great narration. In fact, I think I would have thrown the book over completely if someone other than Clarke Peters was narrating it.
I also enjoyed listening to some great turns of phrase that are generously sprinkled through the book. Here are some examples:
"Like all of Mr. Flowers' younger crop of nephews, they seemed not to be wearing their ill-fitting black suits so much as to be squatting inside them until some less embarrassing habitation came along."
"This was true; Cochise Jones had made funeral arrangements of Egyptian exactitude for himself and his partner in solitude."
"A paycheck, benefits. Archy imagined coming home with such things in his backpack, how it would be if he could meet Gwen's reproachful look with news like that, the 50 percent gain in domestic peace that would result if he could move from being shiftless and cheating to merely the latter. A stack of quarters to feed the meter, move the needle out of the red, way over to the right."
"Cool as a cup of crushed ice on the drums, though, El Boom kept time like an atom clock."
"He came at Archy's soul then with the flashlight and the crowbar of his gaze."
"It was not easy, dressed in skanky b-ball shorts and a Captain EO sweatshirt with cutoff sleeves, but Archy dived down deep and hauled up all the dignity he could snap loose from the sea bottom of his soul."
So you are in for an enjoyable listen if you can stomach the extreme wordiness, meandering dialog and contrived plot.
