by John Grisham
Reviewed by Steve Thomas
They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but if you can’t, then what’s the point of a cover? Isn’t it there, much like a movie trailer, to entice you to read it by giving you a key scene, a character, or a general sense of the book? A well-designed cover dares you to judge the book it surrounds.
And Grisham’s name is also on the cover, which gives the reader another opportunity to make judgement calls. Is the story about a lawyer? Well, no, but Grisham has shown that he can write serviceable non-legal stories in the past, like A Painted House and Skipping Christmas. The fact that it isn’t a legal thriller actually attracted me to it, because I’ve found his legal work to be overloaded with a dour cynicism of late. Plus, I loves me some baseball.
The narrator is a bit dull and two-dimensional but he’s really just there to facilitate the story of his father, a pitcher for the Mets, and “Calico Joe” Castle, a wunderkind player, and how their careers intersect and end in tragedy. No surprises await the reader, as the story progresses as expected, but it is entertaining enough for a quick summer read, though the non-baseball fan may want to keep his distance.
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