Holly

By Stephen King (Scribner, 2023)

Via: Library

Pages: 449

Genre: Who cares?

An author walks into a bar. Orders political screed bashing one side of the aisle. Stirs in a dose of “detective thriller” as cover. Thinks no one’ll notice.

Newsflash, pal: We noticed. We got it the first 2,867 times you brought it up. No need to beat us over the head with it. Oough.

It Stinketh

Well. Her Momness has never read Stephen King before. So not into that creepy-crawly-yucky horror stuff. But this title came highly recommended from someone we respect. Which just shows ya what we know. Cuz it seriously stinketh. Here’s why:

The Basics

Holly Gibney is the owner of Finders Keepers detective agency. When Penny Dahl calls the agency hoping for help locating her missing daughter, Holly is reluctant to accept the case. But she finally takes the case and soon finds that other people have been disappearing from roughly the same location. For years. Holly soon finds herself up against two ruthless and seriously sick retired professors. She must use all her wits and resources to solve the case and out-maneuver Emily and Rodney Harris before it’s too late.

Sounds pretty straight forward, huh? That’s what we thought. Which just shows ya what we know again.

Naw

Holly is billed as a “suspense thriller” or a murder mystery. Naw. It’s really just another political hack job thinly disguised as fiction. Adding injury to insult, the plot – if you can call it that – is as predictable as tomorrow’s sunrise. It’s also littered with characters so hackneyed and caricatured, they’re cartoonish. (Hi, evil octogenarian profs.) Moreover, with endless revisits of Covid, the pandemic, quarantines, ad infinitum, ad nauseum, Holly moves with the alacrity of a three-toed sloth.

We’ve seen this movie before. Like, a zillion times. Besides. Haven’t we had enough of all that?

Kindly pass the No Doze.

Barf

Going from bad to barf me, this snoozer trots out every stereotyped, canned cliche and worn-out political bromide in the book. Wraps it in brittle cynicism and Pecksniffian sermonizing. Ties it up with a partisanship bow the size of New York. Takes a 300-ish paged story and turns it into a 449 paged political polemic.

Oops

Why King chose to inject a Pfizer/Moderna/Johnson & Johnson-sized dose of political posturing into an otherwise passable murder mystery is baffling. And regrettable. It’s like watching a train derail in slo-mo. The story doesn’t need the partisan preaching and would be much better off without it. ‘Sides. Why risk alienating half your potential audience in order to score cheap political points?

Kimber: “So what’s up with this King dude and taking pot shots at the other side of the political aisle? Gag me with catnip.”

Her Grumpiness. “Copy that, Kimmi. Cuz this isn’t a detective thriller. It’s a political rant disguised as fiction. And I don’t care if you’re left wing, right wing or chicken wing. I read fiction to get away from that stuff, not to have it shoved down my throat. Sheesh!”

P.U.!

The Kimster: “Well. As that Holly girl would say: This book is just poopy. And seriously stinky. So pardon me while I hawk up a hairball. As for that King dude? Won’t make that mistake again. Cuz. P. U.!” 

Our Rating: 1.0