American Skin by Ken Bruen Review

Stephen’s on the run following a successful bank job. He’s fled Ireland and made it to the States, leaving behind a mess: his best friend Tommy’s dead and a psychotic hitman he thought was dead isn’t and won’t stop until he’s caught up with Stephen. Meanwhile in the States, Dade, a sociopath with a taste for the music of Tammy Wynette, blazes a trail of carnage wherever he goes until he hooks up with his very own punk rock Bonnie to his Clyde, Sherry. Somehow, everyone’s paths will collide in a very bloody Tucson, Arizona.

This is my first non-Jack Taylor Ken Bruen novel and it wasn’t bad but it’s not as good as that series because Jack is such a fun main character and Stephen here is pretty crap. In fact, the only parts where American Skin becomes less than interesting are when the chapters focus on Stephen.

Bruen thinks the Irish are fascinated with all things America, and maybe they are, I wouldn’t know (there is a great deal of tedious pontificating on the nature of being Irish too), which is why there’s so much on Tommy and Stephen’s past in the States working menial jobs but also just enjoying being there. Not that all of the backstory is bad and I appreciated why we needed it given Stephen’s sole reason for being in the States and doing what he did all link back to his lifelong friendship with the doomed Tommy.

But once Stephen’s in America, he has precious little to do, either in New York or Arizona, and there isn’t anything all that interesting that Stephen and Tommy get up to either that’s particularly memorable or fun to read about in all of those flashbacks - the narrative noticeably slows down in these (far too many) chapters.

Weak “good” characters aside, when it comes to the villains, Bruen excels. That opening crazy sequence where we’re introduced to Dade terrorising a family is fantastic and pretty much every other scene featuring Dade is similarly entertaining. Sherry’s a compellingly poisonous creature and Stapleton, the psychotic hitman, seemed all too real in his cruelty, particularly given Ireland’s past.

American Skin isn’t the white knuckle ride that Ken Bruen’s capable of, in books like In the Galway Silence and Galway Girl, with stretches of boredom appearing throughout the narrative. But when it gets going, it’s really good. Bruen’s written other standalone novels which might potentially be better than this one, so I’d say American Skin is really only for Bruen fans rather than more casual readers on the lookout for a fun crime thriller to pick up.