The third of Whitehead’s Harlem trilogy sees furniture salesman and occasional fence Ray Carney enter the ‘80s. One of the reasons these books are so deeply enjoyable is that they filter the rapid and disorienting changes of the post-war decades in America through the experiences of a single guy (Carney), a single city (New York), and a single industry (crime. Well, and also furniture, but whenever Carney is waxing lyrical about coffee tables or recliners, we know the deeper significance of consumer trends is in its applicability to grift, not the other way around. In fact, one of the underlying points of the novels is that grift and graft intersect in so many ways, and are undertaken for so many reasons, that attempting to separate them may be futile). Carney is older here; he rides along on one last job for a Harlem crime legend, whose score, it turns out, has a personal motive: he wants the gold medal that Jesse Owen won at the Olympics. Like all the Harlem novels, this one is composed of three long sections that could be novellas in their own right (though I'm glad they're not). The Waldorf Job takes up the first; the second follows Carney’s old friend Pepper, suffering badly from stomach cancer but still game for a gig as a bodyguard on an art purchase that goes horribly wrong. The third sees Carney try to save his nephew Robert, son of his cousin Freddie, whom he could not save in an earlier installment of this series. Whitehead has big interests and ideas here: legacy, specifically Black legacy (that Jesse Owens medal; the art that's being traded in part two is African, with some people seeking to repatriate and some seeking only profit; fathers, or father figures, and sons). Urban development and corruption, and the hollowing out of minority communities. Class mobility, and whether it's a betrayal or a victory. What makes the novel come to life, though, is the verve and vividness of his writing. Reading this directly after reading his very first novel, it's easy to see how much experience and confidence have done for his style: he's looser and freer now, discursive but never excessive, generous and evocative, wryly funny, casually bleak. I don't like New York, personally, but Whitehead shows you what it means to call a place like New York home - really home, lived-here-all-my-life home. The anxious reader need not fear, either: it isn't a tragic ending. This trilogy is, in my opinion, Whitehead’s best work so far, and it'll be thrilling to see where he goes next.

4.25 There is just something undeniably captivating about Whitehead’s writing. For full transparency, is this a series that would usually interest me? No! I’m just not really a crime thriller fan BUT I have relished this trilogy, proving that Whitehead is just on a another level! This series has been a wild ride, we’ve come so far with Carney and his associates that I’m actually genuinely saddened that it is over! I devoured this book in one sitting and I can only attribute that to Whitehead’s addictive prose and riveting social commentary. In this novel we’re focused on New York in the 1980s, exploring themes of race, capitalism and gentrification. I may never become a devoted crime fiction reader, but I will happily read anything Colson Whitehead writes. He's one of those rare authors who can elevate any genre through the sheer quality of his writing. Thank you to NetGalley and Little Brown Book Group for the opportunity to read this title.

The final episode in a well established trilogy. It is as much about place bringing alive a gritty city