An account of a family devastated by the sudden death of their nineteen-year-old son, only to discover that he had created a secret life which drew him into the dangerous criminal underworld that lies beneath London’s glittering surface.
While the book raises these thorny questions, Keefe seems reluctant to fully explore them. He is a master builder of intricate narratives, arranging the many pieces just so. London Falling suggests that Zac’s story is ultimately a crime story, in a city so warped by money that it’s losing its bearings. But it’s necessarily a family story, too. Keefe is too assiduous a journalist to be in thrall to the family’s perspective. Yet given the ordeal they endured, perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that the narrative — in what gets emphasized and what doesn’t — hews so closely to their point of view.
A propulsive true-crime story and surgical critique of the city’s glamorous façade and dark underbelly ... Ever a deft stylist ... His reporting is broad and agile, his prose sharp-edged ... Yet in a book about concealed (occasionally half-concealed) agendas, it’s fitting that Keefe has an agenda of his own. When the Met’s 'maddeningly incurious' detective stonewalls the Brettlers’ queries, the author becomes their sleuth ... Why not probe Zac’s sociopathic tendencies? Was Keefe co-opted by his friendship with the Brettlers? London Falling treads the fine line journalists walk when they bring biases to their reportage.
London Falling has a Dickensian texture, but nothing is fictional ... Detailed ... Mr. Keefe casts light on dark waters, and serves a measure of justice to Zac Brettler and his family.
