Is there a world more fascinating than the music industry? With the possible exceptions of the athlete and the actor, there is no celebrity more captivating than the rock star. We, as the average people, envy men who make music for a living, do almost any drug they please and can, as legend has it, have any woman at any time. Yet as much as we admire rock stars when they are up, we like them even more when they are down. We tune in to VH1’s “Behind the Music” to hear the sleazy stories and gawk at the falls from grace — we love to make rock stars into punchlines. Yet, every so often, news of a fallen idol’s death arises, and suddenly we feel bad for him and even allow him one final return to the spotlight.
Jack Tagger, the narrator of Carl Hiaasen’s new novel, “Basket Case,” is a rock fan. He also writes obituaries. “At one time I was a serious reporter doing what passed for serious journalism,” he writes. “Now I write exclusively about the unliving — I go to bed each night thinking about the ones I’ve laid to rest in tomorrow’s paper, and I wake up every morning wondering who will be my next.” Years on the obit beat have clearly gone to his head, as he memorizes the ages of countless celebrities at the times of their deaths. He also develops a morbid obsession with the death of his own estranged father.
Enter James Bradley Stomarti a.k.a. Jimmy Stoma, lead singer of a made-up band called Jimmy and the Slut Puppies (their single “Basket Case” was written in real life by Hiaasen and Warren Zevon). Stoma allegedly died in a diving accident and Tagger sees this as a story just big enough to snag a more prominent place in the paper than the usual obits page. But after interviewing Stoma’s widow, pop star Cleo Rio, Tagger suspects there may have been some foul play involved and begins to conduct an investigation.
And thus begins a story of jealousy, deceit and other good, typical mystery stuff. Tagger gets mixed up in a world of rock star wannabes and has-beens, a world that is both hilariously funny and sadly accurate. We see Cleo Rio, a girl known not for the strength of her music, but for a music video that reveals her pubic hair. We see Stoma’s former band, washed up and drugged out. We see sleazy record producers, reduced to performing grunt work when they are not hanging out at the fashionable south Florida club, Jizz.
Like fellow mystery novelists Elmore Leonard (“Be Cool”) and Gregory McDonald ( Fletch”), Carl Hiaasen knows exactly what his readers want — colorful characters, sharp dialogue, a solid plot and an easily readable length (in this case, 317 pages). He keeps things moving, never getting bogged down in lengthy descriptions. And while the plot isn’t the most revolutionary ever to hit the literary world, Hiaasen’s storytelling is full of wit and observation —two key ingredients that always keep things interesting.
Perhaps the book’s biggest asset is its humor. Tagger has a sometimes-morbid-but-always-sharp sense of humor, and he never forgets to point out the comical nature in some of the otherwise dangerous situations throughout the book.
More than just a satire of the music industry, the story also deals heavily with the current state of journalism and the over-emphasis on profit over quality. Tagger, most likely espousing Hiaasen’s viewpoints, has much to say on these subjects — the novel’s most vocal sub-plot deals with the current sorry state of Tagger’s South Florida newspaper and its decline in quality after being sold to a large corporation. This parallel story is a little heavy-handed and preachy at times, but Hiaasen has found a way to integrate it pretty well into the main plot, so it never seems out of place.
One problem in the book, however, arises in the epilogue. It wraps things up just a little too nicely and happily for my cynical tastes; however, this is a minor criticism. It’s hard to find fault with a book for trying to make some valid social points, especially a book that manages to make make a case and still remains entertaining.
“Basket Case” is the kind of book that almost demands to be read quickly, as it is extremely difficult to put down. Plot twists come frequently, and the dialogue is rapid fire — believable and hysterically satirical, all in the same instant. Plus, there is plenty of sex, drugs and rock-and-roll to keep even the most entertainment-needy reader satiated. In short, this book showcases light reading at its best. Any flaws can easily be overlooked by virtue of the fact that every other aspect of this book is a joy. Hiaasen has crafted a mystery worth reading, an examination of rock-and-roll’s underbelly that will humor any music fan.
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