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Blue Blood by Edward Conlon
Book Summary InformationAuthor: Edward Conlon Edition: Paperback Audio: English (Unknown); English (Original Language); English (Published) Published: 2005-04-05 ISBN: 1594480737 Number of pages: 576 Publisher: Riverhead Trade
Book Reviews of Blue BloodBook Review: A True-blue Triumph Summary: 5 Stars
As a student in journalism school, I got to ride along with police from the NYPD's 71st precinct as they patrolled Brooklyn's Crown Heights on an autumn afternoon. Perhaps no other profession has inspired as much bad fiction and unfavorable press (especially pre-9/11) as the police, so it was fascinating to see the reality behind those distortions, to participate in the mundane routines of police life--clearing out illegal street vendors, responding to bogus 911 calls, picking up cars that were abandoned in the middle of the night by chop shops--to see what movies and T.V. and the news media get right, and wrong.
Short of doing a ride-along, I can't think of a better way to understand law enforcement than to read this excellent, thorough memoir. It is perhaps surprising that no one else (to my knowledge) has written such a good memoir about police life. After all, good police work, like good writing, relies on keen powers of observation; writers and cops alike must sift through a lot of irrelevant information, sorting out truth from untruth, or at least accurately documenting someone's particular untruths for later comparison with the truth.
Conlon's book works because, above all, he strives to present a full and complete picture of police work--the rewarding moments and the petty office politics, the lofty triumphs and the embarrassing scandals alike. And in the process, he gives the reader a real Being-John-Malkovitch-esque glimpse inside the head of an NYPD officer.
One senses, beneath the particular details of his career, the general realities of cop-ness; when Conlon says, for instance, that arresting people for trespassing is "the Swiss Army knife of the housing cop," the reader gets a feel for the selective enforcement of the law that probably characterizes all lower-level police work. Conlon and his fellow flat-feet couldn't, and wouldn't want to, arrest everyone who was where they weren't supposed to be in a housing project, but when they need to pick someone up and don't yet have the evidence to hold them on other charges, trespassing is as good a reason as any. It highlights the interesting paradox of police work; as Conlon makes clear, the less serious the crime, the more powerful the policeman. For crimes like murder and rape, they rightly have little latitude about whether or not to make a report, investigate, and press charges, whereas for smaller offenses, police often can arrest, ticket, or admonish as they see fit.
Conlon mainly sticks to the details of his own rise through the ranks, from housing cop to narcotics cop to detective, but he steps outside that narrative to provide chilling anecdotes and telling insights relating to other officers' experiences on the job. Robberies are often harder to solve than murders, we learn, because most robberies are committed by strangers, whereas most murderers know their victim. He also provides some family history, showing how his less-than-honest relatives thrived in less-than-honest times.
Still, this could have easily been a story that bogged down in textbook detail or rote repetition of facts, were it not for the fact that Conlon is an excellently descriptive and entertaining writer. Consider this section: "It was summer in the Bronx: new songs from San Juan and old ones from Santo Domingo blared from the bodegas and the gypsy cabs; the 'icey-man' made his rounds with his little white cart that said HELADO, filling a cup with shavings from a sweating block of ice, then squirting it with mango, coco, or cherry syrup; laundry hung from the lines strung across the alleys, as if to proclaim, 'Our drawers are clean. Are yours?' There were some women you wished wore more clothes, and some you wished wore fewer, and others who had it just right."
Conlon, too, gets it just right--while other reviewers may find the book too detailed, that is one of the best things about it, for you can read it slowly, taking your time and enjoying it, feeling, at the end, richly rewarded.
Summary of Blue BloodBlue Blood is an work of nonfiction about what it means to protect, to serve, and to defend among the ranks of New York's finest. Edward Conlon is fourth generation NYPD - and the story he tells is an anecdotal history of New York through its police force, and depicts a portrait of the teeming street life of the city in all its horror and splendor. It is a story about fathers and sons, partners who become brothers, old ghosts and undying legacies. Here you will see terms like loyalty, commitment, and honor come to life, in action, on a daily basis. Conlon depicts his life on the force - from his first days walking a beat in the South Bronx, to his ascent to detective." The book opens with Conlon's first day on patrol, but in fact his story begins in the time of his great-grandfather, an officer of dubious integrity who participated in the corruption that marked the Tammany-era NYPD as a corps in need of reform; it continues through the experience of Conlon's father, a World War II officer who left the ranks of the NYPD to become an FBI agent, and the years of his uncle, an old-fashioned, easygoing career cop, who stayed in uniform throughout the political upheavals and corrections of the 1960s and 1970s. Conlon joined the NYPD during the Giuliani administration, when New York City saw its crime rate plummet but also witnessed events that would alter the city and its inhabitants, and its police force, forever: polarizing racial cases, the proliferation of the drug trade, and the events of September 11, 2001, and its aftermath. Conlon captures the detail of the landscape, the ironies and rhythms of natural speech, the tragic and the marvelous, firsthand, day after day. As a Harvard graduate and regular writer for the New Yorker, Edward Conlon is a little different from most of his fellow New York City cops. And the stories he tells in his compelling memoir Blue Blood are miles away from the commonly told Hollywood-style police tales that are always action packed but rarely tethered to reality. While there is action here, there's also political hassle, the rich and often troubling history of a department not unfamiliar with corruption, and the day to day life of people charged with preserving order in America's largest city. Conlon's book is, in part, a memoir as he progresses from being a rookie cop working the beat at troubled housing projects to assignments in the narcotics division to eventually becoming a detective. But it's also the story of his family history within the enormous NYPD as well as the evolving role of the police force within the city. Conlon relates the controversies surrounding the somewhat familiar shoo! ting of Amadou Diallou and the abuse, at the hands of New York cops, of Abner Louima. But being a cop himself, Conlon lends insight and nuance to these issues that could not possibly be found in the newspapers. And as an outstanding writer, he draws the reader into that world. In the book's most remarkable passage, Conlon tells of the grim but necessary work done at the Fresh Kills landfill, sifting through the rubble and remains left in the wake of the World Trade Center attacks on 9/11 (a section originally published in The New Yorker). In many ways, Blue Blood comes to resemble the world of New York City law enforcement that Conlon describes: both are expansive, sprawling, multi-dimensional, and endlessly fascinating. And Conlon's writing is perfectly matched to his subject, always lively, keenly observant, and possessing a streetwise energy. --John Moe
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