I finished “The Gold Coast” by Nelson DeMille. I enjoyed the read. The smug and self-assured speaker’s high-brow humor, while written well, was difficult for me to grasp. It had an appeal to a screenplay. Suffice to say I was amused. Similarly even the tragio-comedic second half merely entertained me but the plot was very tight, the voices distinctive, the comprehensive detailing better appreciated and the read more enjoyable.
I didn’t have the same response to the book that JMD reported. I bought the book because he recommended it. The genre is crime thriller. The style is first rate and breezy but pretentious. It would make a good PBS series. I was reminded of so many other books of that kind: e.g., Buckley, Dick, Dexter and P.D. James. Their tales also make for good theater and TV movies. DeMille is in that category. I read the book quickly. I couldn’t wait until the ending, a very good one with lots of twists. I did like the sexual angle: The story was successfully an extension of their sex games. But that game was not pretend in its consequences, unless you take a lighter interpretation since our narrator thinks about sailing to Hilton Head where his wife awaits. I won’t read the sequel. Scott Fitzgerald he is not.
