Missoula is a Pretty Cold Place in 'Iced'

Review: ICED (Henry Holt and Company 2000)
Author, Jenny Siler

As readers of this blog may know, I'm working my way through Jenny Siler's backlist (the books she wrote before she started writing spy novels under the name Alex Carr). I recently read ICED and found it to be everything I've come to expect from a Jenny Siler novel, a highly-readable combination of hardboiled mystery, a likable (if flawed) protagonist and (in this case) finely detailed description that will make you feel like you're right in Missoula, Montana in winter.

The protagonist, Meg Gardner, is a repo woman. She repossesses cars for GMAC. One night, when she comes to collect aviator Clay Bennett's Jeep, her task is made easier (or so she thinks) when the unfortunate Bennett is discovered dead from multiple stab wounds, left out on an island in the middle of a frozen river. So she nabs the Jeep and takes off. Job done, right? Of course not.

Naturally, there's something in the Jeep. A briefcase that people are trying to get their hands on. Mean people. People who would kill for it. Apparently, the same people who killed Bennett.

Siler displays substantial writer chops, by taking this simple premise and turning it into more than just another whodunit/thriller. Meg is a complex character with a past that haunts her. She's done time in prison and her parents--well, let's just say they have their issues. Meg has a boyfriend (named Kristof) who she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge as such. Yet, she takes great comfort in being with him. And when she's threatened by people seeking what's in the briefcase, she wants to run to Kristof, even as she tries to avoid him (in order to protect him).

For my own part, I love a tough gal protagonist. Meg Gardner would have to qualify as being among the toughest ones I've ever loved. She rejects all middle-class values and is cussedly independent. To give you an example, at one point, she says, "Missoula has always been the kind of town where neighbors wave and people stroll the streets on summer nights eating ice cream. This good cheer can bring a person down. Luckily there's enough sleaze under Missoula's veneer to make the place tolerable." (I LOVE that!)

Though sometimes you see her yearning (ever so slightly) for a quieter, more "normal" life, she rejects such yearnings as poppycock (though that's not the word Meg would use). In point of fact, Meg seems to suffer from overwhelming self-loathing. She denies herself any chance at a so-called normal life by consistently derailing her prospects for one, since she figures she doesn't deserve it.

I did say she was complex, right?

Along with Kristof, Meg has an odd and interesting assortment of other friends. A black transvestite who performs drag shows at Amvets. A cop who tried to take her under his wing and keep her on the straight and narrow (truly a lost cause). A Russian mobster who feels indebted to her for something she did for his son.

I won't go into the plot except to say that it requires Meg to face some issues from her past and involves much larger issues from the past as well--and you can see Siler's early leanings toward international and political intrigue expressed in it. I could pick a few nits about two characters suspected of Bennett's killing--American Indians who dragged him out to the island--and ask why they did this. I never really quite got that and suspected the characters were placed there primarily as a way of exploring certain aspects of Meg's past. And while the plot seems to meander a bit at times, the book's characters and vivid depiction of Montana more than make up for this.

This seems to be a book that explores extremes--not only is Montana an extreme place--both geographically and in terms of weather (you can feel the wind blowing and frostbite in your fingers as you read Siler's prose)--but the protagonist can also be rather extreme herself (and cold as the weather, at times). But you have to love her, anyway. Because she's so upfront about exactly who and what she is.

And toward the end of the book, there's a scene where Meg beats up one of the baddies. The scene was so terse and vivid (in interesting contrast to Siler's often poetic prose), I could feel my pulse rise as I read it. Meg is no sissy. She's no girlie-girl. She kicked the crap out of a person who clearly deserved it. And I loved every minute of that scene. After reading it, I almost wanted to stand up and cheer. Not only for Meg, but also for Siler who did what some people (even by today's standards) assume isn't possible--created a truly hardboiled, two-fisted female protagonist. As hardboiled as they come.

To which I say, "Brava! Bravissima!"