Basket Case
By Carl Hiaasen
Knopf/$25.95
Maybe I'm over Carl Hiaasen. Maybe he's lost his touch. Or maybe his legions of imitators have turned him into a cliche. Basket Case isn't a bad read. If some unknown had written it, I might have called it a promising first or even sophomore novel, even though it's really just a well-written, albeit formulaic mystery novel with an engaging, albeit formulaic protagonist. Jack Tagger is a former investigative journalist who's been busted to obituary writer for publicly badmouthing his evil corporate boss. As a 47-year-old obit writer, Tagger's naturally obsessed with death, and he knows the age at which almost every famous person died — especially the ones who died young.
Instead of raging against the development and destruction of Florida, as he often does, Hiaasen rails against the corporatization of newspapers in this book. The theme and newsroom scenes will make the book especially fun reading for old news dogs and anyone else who has worked in a newsroom, and possibly informative to anyone who gives a damn about why the news is so watered down these days.
But readers looking for over-the-top characters, like roadkill-eating ex-governors or villains with weed-whacker limbs, will be disappointed. The most oddball characters in Basket Case are only mildly eccentric, and even they aren't particularly original.
Readers looking for unusual plot twists or even a freshly plotted book will also be disappointed. The obit writer, looking to restore his investigative career, turns up — surprise — an accidental death that may not be so accidental after all. The deceased is a has-been b-level rocker and frontman of a band called the Slut Puppies.
If that isn't predictable enough, Tagger eventually falls for and scores with a nubile near-child young enough to be his daughter. The only thing missing in this middle-aged man fantasy is a red sports car or maybe a Harley.
Nonetheless, Hiaasen at his worst is a fun read. This one's kind of like a piece of candy: enjoyable to consume but utterly devoid of nourishment.
—Susan Edwards
This article appears in Jan 31 – Feb 6, 2002.