Cold Iron (Paperback)

"Cold Iron" by Melisa Michaels, I would have to say, has to be one of THE most deservedly mockable books ever written. I'm serious; film this one, give it to Mystery Science Theater 3000 and you're onto a winner (so to speak. Note also that I am really _not_ at all in favor of filming this piece of dreck). The premise has got to be one of the most ludicrous ever dreamed up. Are you ready? Three words: Rock! Star! Elves!

Now, while I should note that this is of course a very dumb idea (like you needed me to point that out), I should also speak in my own defense by saying that I bought this wretched trash under the impression that it was exactly what it sounds like: a parody. And the sad thing is, the opportunity was _there_. You could have had a really, really funny book from a concept as silly as this; a good writer would have taken the opportunity to really serve it up to the Fantasy genre. Sort of a "This Is Spinal Tap", with elves.

Alas, "Cold Iron" (original title, no?) misses every possible opporunity for humor in this situation; instead of "This Is Cold Iron", what I wound up with was "Valley of the Elves". This has got to be one of the ugliest, most sordid, cheapest treatments of an Old Reliable Fantasy theme I've ever seen. The actual storyline, which wants to be "Angel Heart" but ends up as "The Lonely Lady"., centers around Private Eye Rosie Lavine, who's hired by a groupie named "Candy" (seriously) to watch over Elf-rock group Cold Iron, and more specifically its lead singer, Jorandel, whom our Candy believes is being targeted for murder. Sounds pretty sewn-up, right? Murder mystery thriller come fantasy story. Piece of cake.

But of course, Michaels isn't satisfied with this. Michaels wants us to care for the characters, which is hard for only one reason: namely, every last character in the book is self-absorbed. Not one of them is even remotely likeable, least of all Jorandel. Jorandel, we are constantly told, is a Muscial Genius, Capable Of The Most Poetic Music Ever Written, etc, ad nauseaum. Well, Melisa, there's only one problem with this. Namely, _this is a goddamn book! We can't hear any of Jorandel's songs, which kind of makes that redundant, doesn't it?! Eh?!?_

Worse yet, Michaels actually seems to think that this alleged musical talent is a valid excuse to behave in the appalling manner which Jorie does throughout. I won't go into the sickening details, but suffice it to say he makes the Gallagher Brothers look like the Osmonds. As for Rosie, she for no apparent reason becomes hooked on a drug called "Soda" (gosh, wonder what drug that's standing in for?), and suddenly remembers - wait for it - she was abused as a child! How Original! It's at this point that I began thinking of lines that would be appropraite to deliver to these characters. Lines such as "The Opposite of Sex" 's classic "Welcome to the planet Maturia. We have much to teach you!"

After about two thousand pages of these characters whining and behaving like two-year-olds (not to mention uttering lines of dialogue Ed Wood would've balked at), we finally get back to the murder mystery (yeah, this is a murder mystery, remember?). The worst part is, this entire revelation thing, involving Jorandel and his twin brother, Jimendan, who is also a member of the band, has the absolute gall to completely rip off "Vertigo".

It was with a sigh of combined relief and disgust that I put down this book. Well, actually I would have preferred to hurl it across the room violently, but there were people around at the time. Suffice it to say, if this is not the worst book I've ever read, it's certainly right up there in good company. Avoid it with every fiber of your being. Unless of course you like your characters repulsive, your plotlines meandering, and your psychology so heavy you could stun a rhinocerous with it. If you're in the mood for elves and rock music, well, read "Lord of the Rings" and rent "This Is Spinal Tap", because "Cold Iron" will only leave you cold.

The characters in this book are repulsive, often idiotic, and yet strangely fascinating. Proof of this is that I read the whole book, and no one was holding me at gunpoint. The main character, Rosie, makes so many stupid mistakes in the first seven chapters that you really can't believe she's the private investigator we're supposed to believe she is. The story is thick is drawn out almost to the point of melodrama - every possibility is explored in almost painful depth, so that you feel the events take place over several months instead of a week. Most of the characters are complete, but largely unlikable. I didn't like them, and yet I couldn't stop watching them, to see what they would do next. A few exceptions would be the characters of Candy, a ditzy but generous groupie who hires Rosie in the first place, Killer, the drummer who slowly becomes a main character, and his mom, Vyla, who is somewhat typecasted but a pleasant change from the oversexed, overdrugged world we are presented in most of the book. I was dismayed by the amount of drug abuse in this book, and the fight scenes tended to get redundant. Still, the conclusion left me with just the right amount of satisfaction without delivering a sappy ending.

This book was good, but not excellent, and exhaustive in details. If you don't expect to like the characters, but you like character studies, you might enjoy it.