Harlan Coben is undoubtedly a hugely successful suspense writer, and has written too many good fast reads to keep count. But if I had to, and if I had to rank them, “Home” would likely be my least favorite. Longtime readers will recognize old characters from the Myron Bolitar series updated, making their names more politically correct by eliminating possible offensive Native American Indian stereotypes. This isn’t a nuanced reader observation. Coben repeatedly tells you that is exactly what he is doing. While this is one of many problems, it isn’t the main one.
In an attempt to humanize the pseudo psychopathic character Win, the book starts with a first person narrative from Win’s point of view. That, along with Myron telling us ad nauseam how much he loves Win, makes “Home” a slow read. It’s the sort of repetitive overbearing gush some readers may enjoy, although I’m not sure why, but at the very least readers have come to expect and tolerate it because the plots are almost always enough to sustain us. Not so in this one.
The emphasis on resurrecting characters and making it all seem like they’re at a family reunion gets in the way of the plot, which by standards set by the master himself, is weak, as if the superficial feelings of these characters serve more to enhance the page count than the plot. It’s full of unnecessary emotional clichés, like a guy telling you the same thing over and over until you want to treat them the way the psychopath Win (who Myron loves) treats lowlife that deserve vigilante justice in the form of a quick slash to the jugular.
