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Jack of Spades: A Tale of Suspense Kindle Edition
Andrew J. Rush has achieved the kind of critical and commercial success most authors only dream about: He has a top agent and publisher in New York, and his twenty-eight mystery novels have sold millions of copies. Only Stephen King, one of the few mystery writers whose fame exceeds his own, is capable of inspiring a twinge of envy in Rush. But Rush is hiding a dark secret. Under the pseudonym “Jack of Spades,” he pens another string of novels—noir thrillers that are violent, lurid, and masochistic. These are novels that the upstanding Rush wouldn’t be caught reading, let alone writing. When his daughter comes across a Jack of Spades novel he has carelessly left out, she picks it up and begins to ask questions. Meanwhile, Rush receives a court summons in the mail explaining that a local woman has accused him of plagiarizing her own self-published fiction. Before long, Rush’s reputation, career, and family life all come under threat—and in his mind he begins to hear the taunting voice of the Jack of Spades.
“Sleek and suspenseful . . . Readers are sure to be gripped and unsettled by [Oates’s] depiction of a seemingly mild-mannered character whose psychopathology simmers frighteningly close to the surface.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Just when you think you’ve got her all figured out, Joyce Carol Oates sneaks up behind and confounds you yet again. She does it with a wicked flourish in Jack of Spades.” —The New York Times Book Review
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherMysterious Press
- Publication dateMay 5, 2015
- File size8380 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
Andrew J. Rush has achieved the kind of critical and commercial success most authors only dream about: He has a top agent and publisher in New York, and his twenty-eight mystery novels have sold millions of copies. Only Stephen King, one of the few mystery writers whose fame exceeds his own, is capable of inspiring a twinge of envy in Rush. But Rush is hiding a dark secret. Under the pseudonym "Jack of Spades," he pens another string of novelsnoir thrillers that are violent, lurid, masochistic. These are novels that the upstanding Rush wouldn't be caught reading, let alone writing. When his daughter comes across a Jack of Spades novel he has carelessly left out, she picks it up and begins to ask questions. Meanwhile, Rush receives a court summons in the mail explaining that a local woman has accused him of plagiarizing her own self-published fiction. Before long, Rush's reputation, career, and family life all come under threatand in his mind he begins to hear the taunting voice of the Jack of Spades.
About the Author
Product details
- ASIN : B00PSSGPVW
- Publisher : Mysterious Press; Reprint edition (May 5, 2015)
- Publication date : May 5, 2015
- Language : English
- File size : 8380 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Not Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 193 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #808,760 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #1,528 in U.S. Horror Fiction
- #3,695 in Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Literary Fiction
- #7,966 in Psychological Thrillers (Kindle Store)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Joyce Carol Oates is the author of more than 70 books, including novels, short story collections, poetry volumes, plays, essays, and criticism, including the national bestsellers We Were the Mulvaneys and Blonde. Among her many honors are the PEN/Malamud Award for Excellence in Short Fiction and the National Book Award. Oates is the Roger S. Berlind Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at Princeton University, and has been a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters since 1978.
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Top reviews from the United States
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Andrew J Rust , a middle aged mystery author, begins the narrative and we cannot take our eyes off him as he evolves before our eyes into a creature consumed by evil. Many of the other people in the book are near ciphers because Oates does not let Andrew out of our sight for a moment. We glimpse other characters as they relate to Andrew. The focus on Andrew is absolute. And intense. And horrible. You will not forget him.
But then he begins writing noirish type mysteries that push the envelope. Andrew J. Rush uses a pseudonym to write them, Jack of Spades. He writes them after he's finished working on his Andrew J. Rush novels, well past midnight. He tells no one, not even his wife. They're much easier to write. It's almost as if they write themselves. Worse yet, Jack of Spades begins to talk to Andrew.
Then he gets a summons to appear in court. He's being sued by a woman who claims he's broken into her house and stolen her work, publishing it as his own. His publisher furnishes him with a lawyer, who makes good on his promise “to bury her.” But before the court date, the lawyer tells him not to call C.W. Haider. At this time, Andrew doesn't know why she's suing him. He calls her anyway, and she has a conniption fit.
What makes things easier for Andrew is that C.W. Haider has sued other famous authors: Stephen King, Peter Straub, even John Updike. John Updike? Come on lady! Andrew's lawyer tells him this sort of thing is par for the course; it's surprising he hasn't been sued before. Andrew gets unsolicited manuscripts all the time; he even reads them sometimes, and offers advice. He's asking for it, in other words.
Oates has a reputation for not answering all the questions a reader might have about what's going on in her stories, and that's the case here, too. Is this guy nuts? Does he have a split personality? It seems so. After the case is thrown out of court, he can't help but drive by C.W. Haider's house. Is this the sensible Andrew J. Rush who labors over almost every word, or is it Jack of Spades whose books Andrew barely remembers writing?
To further complicate matters, we learn that Andrew once had a brother who died under suspicious circumstances in a diving accident. Some people thought Andrew was responsible. Jack of Spades even writes about it.
Okay, here's the part that really bugs me. Andrew talks his way into C.W. Haider's house. He has a present for her, MISERY, one of Stephen King's books, with a snarky dedication to C.W. Haider, forged by Andrew or Jack or whomever. He finds all kinds of first editions in her library. Bram Stoker's DRACULA. THE IMP OF THE PERVERSE by Edgar Allen Poe. FRANKENSTEIN. Andrew collects rare books, but he doesn't have anything close to this. He takes some of them. He also finds Haider's old manuscripts and journals. Some of them sound an awful lot like the books she claimed other authors stole from her, and they predate the best sellers. Stephen King's THE SHINING; Peter Straub's GHOSTS; even John Updike's THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK, all under different titles but definitely the same ideas. There's even one of Andrew J. Haider's novels there, with a slightly different title.
What are we supposed to believe here, that John Updike stole THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK from an obscure old woman whose only publication was released by a vanity press? Andrew's answer is that she had the ideas but not the talent to make them publishable. That might happen with one book, but not with several different famous authors. Oates leaves this thread hanging.
I do like the theme that we are all plagued by childhood events, if not quite as traumatic as Andrew's, and that we all have a perverse nature like Jack of Spades. Think about it. Do we behave because we're afraid we'll get caught if we don't? Freud had a theory that the personality is made up of the id, the superego, and the ego. Most of us are rotten little kids at heart, but our conscience, the Superego, keeps us under control. But sometimes the Id needs to get what it wants, or we'd be miserable. We fall off our diet. We start smoking again after quitting for a year.
I think it's Andrew's Superego that wins out; he doesn't think he deserves what he has, and that's why Jack of Spades gets stronger and stronger.
This the first novel of her that I did not finish-because it was not worth it. You could tell what was going to happen by reading the book jacket. Only one of the major plots was developed to any extent. All of the characters lacked depth, including Jack Spade.
This book goes into my donation box, rather than on my five shelves of JCO books. Don't waste your time by buying this book. This is the last book of hers that I will buy.
Top reviews from other countries
Ärgerlich, dass keine einzige der Figuren, die nicht nur Nebenrollen spielen, sympathisch ist. Die Hauptfigur ist tatsächlich recht widerlich, die um ihn herum bleiben sehr blass, ihre Persönlichkeit wird nicht herausgearbeitet.
Mein erstes Buch von Joyce Carol Oates lässt mich sehr enttäuscht zurück und etwas verärgert.