In Mickey Haller, Jack McEvoy, Terry McCaleb, Rachel
Walling, and more recently Renee Ballard, author Michael Connelly has delivered
a fine cast of main characters during his 27 year career, but none as
compelling or as enduring as Harry Bosch.
Quite what it is about Bosch that we readers in our
millions like is not as clear cut as Connelly’s mastery of the crime fiction
genre (in my view he is the best in the business). Sure, Bosch is obdurate,
honourable, has a work ethic beyond reproach, and sees himself as LA’s guardian
of justice, going up against the establishment almost as much as he does the
criminals. But on the other hand, he’s often not approachable, nor even particularly
likeable. He’s dismissive, sometimes contemptuous, occasionally a little cruel,
and quick to anger.
He’s an enigma you can’t help but root for because at his
core he is a decent man. Harry is not overly complicated, either. He has his
standards, his own set of rules to live and work by, and refuses to allow anybody
to compromise those beliefs. Yet the vulnerability we see in him is that his
life is also chaotic and unsettled, and generally there is not a lot going on
in Harry’s world that makes him happy for too long – not even his daughter
Maddie. Yes, that he loves her and would do absolutely anything for her is
demonstrable, yet I see his relationship with happiness as a tenuous one simply
because he spends his life worrying about his daughter. As we fathers so often
do.
I consider Bosch to be a lonely man, yet comfortable
wearing that skin. His relationship with the various work-placed partners he’s
had have been fraught with tension, because they seldom live up to his exacting
standards, and rarely commit to a case in the same way he does. He has no real
friends, and his relationships with women are mostly fleeting. He has no close
family, though he and lawyer Mickey Haller share a father. Maddie is now his whole
world, yet she is so much like him that they flit in and out of each other’s
lives. It’s hard to imagine Bosch without his work, though, because it’s the
one thing he has been devoted to for more than forty years. The one constant,
and he craves it.
I came to Bosch in 1992 with the release of Connelly’s
first novel, The Black Echo. I was
immediately drawn to the writing, the character, and the location. I sensed I
was in expert hands right from the beginning, and although I enjoyed the second
book less, the third, The Concrete Blonde
absolutely blew me away. That was me reeled in, and I have been a firm fan ever
since. I’ve enjoyed most of his non-Bosch books, too, and The Poet from 1996 remains one of the finest serial-killer
thrillers out there. But I always come back to Harry, keen for more LA insight
and Connelly’s sprinkling of magic.
We’ve seen various forms of Bosch along the way. As a homicide
detective, a closer of cold cases, a private investigator – intriguingly
written in first person POV – and latterly as a volunteer for the San Fernando
police. The author came to this aspect of Bosch’s later years whilst he had
Harry working a private case. He realised the story would run short, and a
chance discussion led him to the possibility of Bosch being a volunteer with
the Valley unit. Now, his career pretty much done, we have Bosch trading scenes
with LA cop Renee Ballard in Dark Sacred
Night. It’s an interesting idea, and certainly a deft way of running down
the clock on Bosch whilst also introducing us to the character destined to
replace him as the main Connelly lead, but for me it’s something that has yet
to catch fire. Perhaps 2019s The Night
Fire will ignite that spark inside me.
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As the author of a crime series character myself, I can
understand why a writer might be reluctant to see the back of someone they have
grown to like unwrapping for yet another outing, but due to the age Bosch was
at the outset, and Connelly’s desire to be as current as possible, dear old
Harry is simply running out of years. Not to mention a bit of puff, though he
takes good care of himself.
The TV show, now into its fifth series with one more to
come, is a revelation and has surely led even more readers to Connelly’s work.
I really enjoy the incorporation of plotlines from several books that form the
cornerstones of each ten episode series, and Titus Welliver does a great job in
the lead role. Connelly has a lot of daily input into the show, and it’s become
one of the finest cop thrillers ever to have featured on the small screen,
mainly because of the authenticity he brings to the table. Much of that stems
from his time as a reporter for the LA
Times, working the crime desk and getting to know crime and criminals, cops
and detectives and lawyers inside out. You don’t need to have read a Bosch
novel to enjoy the show, but if you have you’ll certainly notice the many differences.
But you also get to spend time in some of those famous LA locations Connelly
features, and see many of the novels and their characters brought to life.
It’s hard to imagine a Boschless future, but by next year
the TV series will be done, and I can’t foresee Harry continuing in his current
role in the books for much longer, either. Bosch the man may be a seriously
flawed person, but Bosch the cop is one of the very best fiction has ever
offered us. You’d certainly want this dogged and relentless detective working
on your behalf. It’ll be devastating to lose him, but I would rather focus on
the many, many hours of joy he has brought into my life. A bit of a
misanthrope, a lot worn down by life and the job, curmudgeonly, sarcastic,
likes a drink and loves his music. But enough about me...
Bosch is all of that and more, but his fellow cops knew
they could count on him, just as we rely on Michael Connelly making sure that when
his time comes, Harry Bosch goes out not with a whimper, but maybe the biggest fictional
bang LA has seen since the street riots that took place in the same year as
this literary master first delivered the great man to us.
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