Espresso Shot
Natural law dictates that bad books die a quick death. While Audible, Amazon's outlet for audiobooks, promotes many well-written books by globally acclaimed authors. It also subverts natural law when it keeps indigestible nonfiction, and supremely inane fiction on life support. Espresso Shot, by Cleo Coyle, fits into the latter category. If that were its only flaw, perhaps it would deserve a whiff of oxygen. The trouble is that it goes beyond the inanity of so many cozy novels, to propagate clichés that are no longer socially acceptable. There have been major cultural shifts since 2013, when it was first published and when it received stellar reviews on Amazon. In principle, Claire Cosi, the main character in the novel, is believable. She is the successful manager of a New York coffeehouse, the mother of adult daughter from her failed marriage to Matteo Allegro. She is also an amateur sleuth who has, at her disposal, the professional help of her lover, policeman Mike Quinn. She shares the apartment above the coffeehouse with her ex, she serves a clientele made up of the sort of people who can pronounce words such as doppio and macchiato effortlessly, she can tell Kona coffee from Colombian. It is all very cosmopolitan, very elitist, way too unanchored in verisimilitude. While this sort of escapist fiction might have been of interest in 201, its silliness jars in 2021.
Lavish weddings, a staple in so many cozies, typifies the ethos of the 1990s. Now, it seems to be no more than a literary straight jacket that evolved from fairy. Details such as designer clothes, designer coffee, ultra-expensive food, gem encrusted fountains that spew prosecco signaled faith in robust economy. Do they continue to be a cherished fantasy in face of the seismic cultural and socioeconomic shifts of the post-pandemic era? Who among those struggling to survive really has the least interest in Matteo's bride-to Breanna Summour's ersatz trials and tribulations?
Breanna is nothing but updated version of the bad witch in the stories of Hans Christian Andersen. No wonder there are so many suspects when someone tries to kill her. The big question is, why should the reader care? There are other big questions, as well, :How did this book ever get published? It has the flimsiest of plots, absurd dialogue, and stick figure characters, All the blather about coffee seems to be pure filler gleaned from advertising brochures. What really damns this book, though, is that it perpetuates the cliché of madly jealous mustachioed Latin men and ultra fertile, overweight Latin women. This kind of insensitivity is perniciously anachronistic, After all, Juan Valdez no longer trundles coffee sacks on a burro. He is now a NASA engineer. The fat woman teaches a Pilates class. Why is that so hard for the author to imagine? Perhaps a narrow world view and tons of fluff would have been tolerable if she had delivered about with dimension and wit. As it is, reading it is a waste of time.
Narration is ho-hum. The reader needs to work on West Virginian accents, of which there is more than one, hear?
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