Yes, I’ve come out of my reading bubble. As usual, I scooped up the latest Sara Paretsky novel and read straight through.

Break Down is the 15th installment in the V.I. Warshawski series (not counting the short stories) and marks the 30th anniversary of the series. It’s also the first time I remember V.I. referring to herself as 50, though she must have passed that milestone a few books ago. Vic remains an inspiration — she can still fight several men at once, take on the rich and powerful and fill out a scarlet evening dress. She can also spill food on her good clothes, get dirty and sweaty and skip many meals, despite her family motto. The main draw of the series remains the main draw, after all these years — I don’t know anyone like Vic but I wish I did. (Even if that would, of course, put me in danger.)

Break Down is the strongest offering by Paretsky since Blacklist. Like Body Work, Break Down weaves together a number of different storylines, but the resulting tapestry holds together much better. In Body Work, I felt like there wasn’t enough space to give the various threads — and more importantly, their promising characters — their due. Break Down doesn’t quite reach the level of characterization of some early V.I. novels, but Paretsky does a great job of balancing the storylines — none of them feel rushed or left undone. I kept reading not simply out of loyalty to V.I. and Paretsky, but because I couldn’t wait to see how it would all come together.

The political aspects common to the series reflect our changing society without sounding overly preachy — in fact, Paretsky introduces a rich, liberal family, showing that even the more enlightened of the 1% can have their sense of entitlement. We feel bad for Murray, even while sharing V.I.’s frustration and disappointment with her old friend and colleague. Lawlor and Kendrick, a “news” show host and politician respectively, demonstrate the depressing exaltation of political extremism at the cost of real debate over real issues, ones affecting our daily lives.

Not everything is depressing, however. The scenes with Mr. Contreras, the dogs and two little girls are priceless. It’s also nice to see Petra gaining a little maturity.

I did have a few quibbles, mainly with the ending. I won’t include any spoilers here, so I can’t get specific. My problem is that it closely resembled the ending to a previous book, in a way that seemed especially unrealistic because you probably can’t go to that well more than once. It also included some actions that I considered out of character for some of the regulars. In general, the series’s endings have become somewhat predictable, with the rich and powerful getting off with little consequence and V.I. joining with friends to remind herself of the good in life. I like that Paretsky doesn’t shy away from giving us the unsatisfying yet realistic version of justice, but it’s beginning to feel formulaic in its depiction.

A couple of other quibbles:

V.I.’s bipolar friend seems to be stuck in one pole — manic. There’s no discussion of her depressive phases, little or no discussion of her stable phases, nor is there any question of how her medications might have affected her. The friend seems to be limited to the “bipolar genius” cliche.

Some actions come off more as being necessary for tying up the plot than as a natural progression of the situation. One character uses a “middleman” for communication that is not illegal, and then the middleman holds the meeting at his workplace? Why would he do that? Because it’s necessary for the plot? Another example came closer to the end. (Again, I’m not providing context as to avoid spoilers.) Why not photograph evidence and text or email it to as many people as possible immediately? So that the evidence has the chance to be lost?

Paretsky stays true to V.I.’s avoidance of police involvement, but I’d like to have seen Vic second-guess herself at least a little with respect to the opening scene. It’s a great set-up, but then she sends a bunch of tween girls out alone into Chicago with a murderer possibly still nearby — one that might fear he’s been seen? I understand she was protecting the girls whose families may have been illegals, but for once I actually felt sympathetic for the police. At a murder scene, she hid witnesses and potentially put off the discovery of evidence. Reacting as a parent to that scene, I was fairly upset — I would want to know right away that my 12-year-old was wandering about Chicago, not hours later after her book club’s cousin/investigator searched for them. I also wouldn’t appreciate my kid getting the message from a responsible adult that she should avoid the police at all costs, even when possibly in danger.

Jake Thibaut again seems like an afterthought. Granted, Morrell was a tough act to follow, but Jake’s role is so limited that he still doesn’t feel quite real to me.

All in all, a worthy addition to the Warshawski series. I’m looking forward to year 31.

I love reading, and yet, somehow I don’t seem to do as much of it as I used to. Trying to balance writing and reading doesn’t come naturally, unfortunately. I can do one or the other but not both, not easily. Of course, that seems to be true of so much in my life — I can exercise and eat more healthfully, but not if I want to write and read. I write chapter after chapter if I don”t mind the house looking like crap.

So, starting small, I’m going through Best of 2011 reading lists from various sources. My first try is 1Q84, which is looong, but I’ve never read any Japanese writers outside of short story collections.

And yes, I am going to the gym. And I will finish that chapter draft today. Mwa ha ha.