You’d think that having given up the ghost I’d be beyond the grasp of my ex-stepdaughter, the parasite.
Sure, Charlie's less-than-charitable assessment, doesn't make it sound like death has mellowed him at all -- or that we really want to spend a novel looking into the trials and tribulations of his ex-stepdaughter, Cali. (a quick aside: I loved Charlie's rant about the pretentious names given to Cali and her peers, "Truth, Canyon, Druid, Turquoise, Vanilla and Road. Don’t tell me those are names–– they’re brands. ") But last time we learned that 1. Charlie has actually mellowed a bit, we just need more time to see it; 2. He's generally right about his family; and it won't take long before the reader will actually care about Cali. As difficult as she'll make it.
Textbooks will tell you that Cali is a "troubled teen." Which is a pretty vague, and a likely outdated, term. She's a drinker, a drug user, defiant daughter (although once you meet her mother and current stepfather, you kind of get that) in trouble with the law. But it doesn't take long once Charlie and Rose start to follow her for her to end up in more trouble than she -- or anyone -- deserves.
Once again, there's very little that Charlie and Rose can do other than watch what's happening and put two and two together in the almost vain hope that Charlie can do something about it. Rest assured, they do, and it doesn't involve another near death experience (I was a little afraid they'd just be hanging around Surgical Centers waiting for the next opportunity to talk to another ghost). It's hard to believe that a mystery series where no one knows that the main characters did anything works. But this does.
What can I say about Rose? She's at once one of the most realistic dog characters I can remember reading lately (she doesn't talk, narrate, have a point of view chapter, or communicate telepathically), and yet, as a ghost, is the hardest to believe. She's such a good influence on Charlie, I'm glad whatever or Whoever brought them together after their deaths.
Charlie said something in the last book about death not being about learning anything or insight or growth, that he stays the same. I don't believe it, he's not the same guy. But it's probably a good sign that he doesn't realize it.
Something I should've mentioned when I talked about the previous novel, these chapter epigraphs are great. They represent a truly impressive collection of quotations about death, some funny, some thoughtful, just about all of them keepers. The book is worth the effort just to read these (but you should really focus on the rest of the book).
Perry's freakishly short chapters make you think Robert Parker was prone to be long-winded and rambling, but they work. You could probably make the case that they're a commentary on the transient nature of human life or something (if you wanted to, and I don't). They keep things moving, really keep anything from dragging, and help you get how Charlie and Rose can jump from place to place with ease.
Funny, poignant, all-around good story-telling. Plus there's a dog. You really can't ask for more than that. It's easy to see why people as diverse as Cat Warren and Eric Idle commend these books. I strongly recommend this one (and the predecessor).