Moth and Flame: A Benjamin Justice Novel

I grew up and lived and worked in West Hollywood most of my life (I now live in Laguna Beach) and this is one of the very, very few books which captures the feel of the WeHo I knew. Mr. Wilson is a wonderful writer and this is the best of the Justice series. I don't know Mr. Wilson so this is a review from the heart. But it, you'll like it. Made me homesick... a little.

In John Morgan Wilson's sixth novel in this series Benjamin Justice is back with not much libido because of the Prozac he is taking to help him get through the day with less dread and apprehension. When the writer working on a booklet on West Hollywood's historically important buildings is murdered, Justice steps in to complete the assignment. Of course, never one to leave well enough alone, he gets intangled in that murder and subsequent murder as only he can. Justice is still renting from his beloved landlords, Maurice and Fred--Maurice takes a much larger role in this story than he has previously-- and he is still friends with Templeton, whose own private life takes an interesting twist here. Justice, too prozacked out for much else, delves into late night cybersex here, surfing the many porn sites, an endeavor that ultimately helps him with his murder investigation. Wilson has the geography of West Hollywood down; as we have grown to expect from him, there are references all around to live actors and writers-- and the usual tribute to Walter Mosley: "I continued on past Book Soup, where the latest Walter Mosley mystery was displayed in the window, with Tower Records just across the street." Additionally he names a fictional street after the deceased gay writer Paul Monette, a fitting memorial to him. As always, Mr. Wilson comes across as the most decent of individuals, letting his characters speak poignantly and sometimes wisely about what living is all about. For example, here's Maurice on long relationships: "'Fred is the great gift of my life, Benjamin. That probably sounds funny, especially to those who see Fred as an old grump, a stick-in-the-mud who's not that much fun to be around at times. But I know him differently, you see. . . the way only two people who have devoted themselves to each other for most of a lifetime can. That's the beauty of growing old, you know. The chance to experience a special kind of love that only comes with time.'" I can name a half dozen writers of "serious" gay fiction who cannot hold a candle to this author. His novels always rise about the mystery novel formula to become serious, thoughtful and often very moving commentaries on what it means to be gay in America. With the recent death of Joseph Hansen and the apparent retirement of Michael Nava I know of no writer of gay mysteries better than Mr. Wilson.

Benjamin Justice, a semi-retired journalist who often becomes a reluctant amateur private eye, is hired by the City of West Hollywood to finish a brochure about its historical buildings, following the apparent murder of the man originally entrusted with that job. Since his last run-in with crime, which cost him severe injuries including loss of one eye, Justice has vowed not to "get involved" in investigations, and relies on his daily dose of Prozac to keep him minding his own business. But, as regular readers of the series are well aware, circumstances involve him. His best friend, LA Times reporter Alexandra Templeton, gets an exclusive with a scientist who presents a study that the police's suspect, a 20 year old Russian immigrant, may have beeen genetically predisposed to become a murderer. Benjamin meets the young man, and believes him to be innocent, although circumstancial evidence and his presence at a second murder seems to indicate otherwise. As Justice researches the brochure, he becomes deeply involved in the politically-charged battle between historical preservationists vs real estate developers, with both sides aggresively soliciting his support, and gets a deeper sense that these groups are somehow involved in the murders. He also keeps coming across the name of a handsome bisexual drifter who was involved with some of these people, and who disappeared thirty years before. When Alexandra stubbornly refuses to believe his theories, largely due to her involvement with the scientist who believes the young man is the murderer, Justice becomes an intentional thorn-in-the-side of some of these dangerous characters, to see if they reveal their roles. With this, his sixth Benjamin Justice mystery novel, John Morgan Wilson seems to just get better and better. His books are uniformly well-written, original, intelligent in tone, offering realistic characters in first-rate mysteries. Author Wilson has a guest column in a current issue of the Advocate, commenting on the 20th anniversary of the incorporation of the City of West Hollywood, his place of residence which is featured almost like a character in many of his Benjamin Justice novels, especially this one. His writing, both in the column and this book, reveal a genuine respect for the city's history, diversity and tolerance, as well as a wink at the colorful characters and celebrities who frequent its streets, shops and cafes. I consider this book his best in the series, and give it a plump five stars out of five.

Having been thrilled by the harrowing misadventures of my favorite down-and-out journalist, Benjamin Justice, I've come to liken him to Job. How much punishment can one man take? In the first five novels of the series, Justice has been beaten, stabbed, carved up, raped, infected with HIV, and had an eye plucked out. As if all this misery wasn't enough to be getting on with, add Justice's being a recovering alcoholic who, as a boy, was victimized by a [...] priest. In my mind, the only thing left to do to Justice was to bump him off; put the man out of his misery. With "Moth and Flame," however, readers will find a genteler, more reflective Justice. Prozac has reigned in his more pugnacious impulses, leaving him without much urge to come out fists first. At 45, Justice is feeling his age, has rejoined a gym, and seems to be making some effort to clean up his act. Still in disgrace in most journalistic circles, his talent remains unquestioned. He continues to eke out a living through freelance writing assignments. The ill wind that brings Justice a much-needed writing commission is the murder of Bruce Bibby, a former child actor turned writer. Justice is to complete the final in Bibby's series of brochures on aspects of West Hollywood. Justice wants to write the brochure, collect his check, and get on with his life. Yet, harking to the novel's title, Justice finds his need to know the truth drawing him, like a moth to a flame, into learning who killed Bruce Bibby. As much as I hate to jump on the five-star bandwagon, the Justice novels are sublime. At last, a detective series that continues to grow stronger with each successive installment. In the character of Justice, author John Morgan Wilson has created a multi-faceted, not altogether likeable, yet fascinating hero. Though the novels have an undeniable gay sensibility, it is hoped this quality will not narrow the audience of those who, like myself, will also find hours of pleasure in the novels' pages.

"Moth and Flame" is the sixth and, for me, the most enjoyable of the Benjamin Justice detective series. The novel combines a tight mystery story with the effective beginning of the detective's rise from the depths of depression, which were depicted earlier in the series. The basic set-up is that gay, HIV-positive, disgraced journalist, and occasional detective Benjamin Justice has been stabilized by Prozac. He feels able to step in to complete a city-sponsored brochure on historic structures in West Hollywood. The research and intial writing had been done by Bruce Bibby, a gay, disabled, former TV sitcom star, who had just been found bludgeoned to death in his apartment. It turns out that there was a lot of interest in whether Bibby's brochure would lobby for historical status for some pre-1910 plains cottages. Was Bibby a victim of greedy developers? What would a young hustler from Russia have to do with it? Does something from history have a role? Having Benjamin Justice slow down from his past adventures to actually take a look at the history and architecture of West Hollywood, to see how his own family history has similarities to what other people face, and to having him react to the aggressive journalism ethics of his best friend, Alexandra Templeton, all show him to growing and interacting more compassionately with others. He is still depressed but is markedly less self-pitying and self-centered. I applaud the emerging humanity of the protagonist, as well as enjoying the mystery plot.