Reader Review GOODREADS
***** Stars
Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed came highly recommended by friends in the music biz who raved about it. I couldn't put it down. Marc Blatte has an impeccable ear for dialogue. The urban patois is hyper-realistic and reads like a Charlie Parker solo; multiple levels of dialogue interacting and coalescing to tell a larger story. In that way, this hip hop crime novel is like a performance piece akin to those delivered by Eric Begosian and Karen Finley. This is not just the printed word; it is a hip-hoppera, if you may. Full of memorable characters, hard scrabble locations, and action that will keep you flipping pages or glued to your airplane seat if you read it on a Kindle, like I did the second time. Blatte is the freshest new voice I've read in years. Can't wait for THE SOUNDTRACK ALBUM.
Back Story
MIGHTY MUSIC
Back in the day, when hip-hop was rising to eventually dominate the music world, my wife, Jeanne Neary Look, and I funded a hip hop label called Mighty Music. We truly believed in the artistic viability of the genre and had a strong admiration for an artist named Shaqueen, who was signed to our label. For three years, we socialized, attended shows, and collaborated with many dedicated individuals in the hip hop scene while promoting Shaqueen and her music. Although the venture resulted in a complete financial wipeout, the experience had a significant upside. We had the incredible opportunity to connect with The Wu Tang Clan, Noriega, Queen Pen, and numerous producers, major label executives, and street promoters who were fans of our amazing artist. My novel, Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed, which explores themes akin to those found in a hip hop crime novel, is partially shaped by our experiences during that vibrant time, as well as insights from Marc Blatte.
My Favorite Review
REVIEWED BY MARIANNE ROGOFF
Marc Blatte’s hip-hop crime novel, *Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed*, brings a touch of philosophy to New York’s mean streets.
Set inside New York City’s vibrant hip-hop scene, along with the surrounding neighborhoods and clubs that host its diverse characters, *Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed* is shaded by varying skin tones and backgrounds. A broad cross-section of races appears, showcasing an extreme mix of attitudes and personalities, some with connections, talent, and ambition, while others lack moral compasses. Hierarchies of respect intertwine with mountains of greed, and amidst the lust and pride, people climb over one another, often stomping on anyone who stands in their way.
Stomping? Killing.
As a compelling whodunit, *Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed* features cops, detectives, killers, wannabes, thugs, and criminals, along with onlookers and bystanders. The narrative presents good guys with dark sides and bad guys who are unexpectedly endearing. Blatte, a Grammy-nominated songwriter and Wittgenstein scholar, wields language like a knife, presenting a wealth of corpses and philosophical musings. He propels the hip-hop crime novel into new territory with his unique prose rhythm and stylish flair, demonstrating a meta-awareness of how to navigate the cacophony while subtly showcasing his scholarly expertise.
“Black Sallie Blue Eyes was one of New York’s most decorated cops. The name on his Italian birth certificate and his American passport was Salvatore Fortunato Messina…. Sal was built tight, wiry, and had this pitbull aggressiveness about him. He worked out, ran marathons—New York, Boston, San Francisco—and he played b-ball. From three-point range he was killer, and unlike many small guys, he wasn’t afraid to take it to the hoop, even when it meant he’d get bounced by the big guys underneath…. He also had the gift, or as some guys called it, ‘he could smell the gun,’ which simply meant he would know what you were gonna do before you did it.”
And then there’s Pashko, the Kosovar immigrant:
“‘Now if you grew up where we did, where all kinds of devious, derelict, atrocious shit is going down, you ain’t ever gonna say Humpty Dumpty fell off a wall. That’s ridiculous. The first thing you gonna say is Humpty Dumpty was pushed. Right? And the next thing you gonna say is let’s find out who had didded him and get that low-life motherfucker for real, bro. You feel me?’”
These words echo through Pashko’s cousin, Vooko, as he stares at Pashko’s corpse. “Someone’s gonna pay, old-world style,” he promises his cousin. “Bet yo. I’m a see to it.” But who’s gonna pay? Blatte conjures up a nasty cast of victims and suspects, treating them all with respect even as he skewers their accents and ignorance.
“Spahiu Congoli—the name on the passport, a.k.a. Vooko, his street name—came to the Bronx happy to be alive from war-torn, impoverished Kosovo, exactly two years after the Serbs started their horrific ethnic cleansing… He loved watching the fantasy of bad guys and mayhem on TV, and he had a lot of fun wasting thugs, punks, and assassins on his PlayStation 3. The non-stop screen action reminded him of home, only the shit that went on back there was for real.”
In New York, the reality is just as harsh as back home in Kosovo. The search for the murderer takes readers deep into hip-hop society—inside the nightclub scene, past the velvet rope, where they feel like true insiders.
“Scholar’s cousin [Biz] was a playa and producer-writer for the owner of the all-time biggest record label in hip-hop, Sunn Volt. And Biz, well, what could they say? They had just seen his ass on BET. The boy was looking good. It was slick how he’d promoted his latest joint. He was the pride of the hood, no doubt about it.”
Sunn Volt, also known as “The Buddha,” operates from an oak-paneled office adorned with framed quotations from philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, alongside eclectic photos of figures like Miles Davis and Einstein. The quotations are there to remind Sunn of “just how limited a communication tool words can be.” When Black Sallie Blue Eyes comes seeking insight to aid his murder investigations, Sunn explains that many of his clients struggle to distinguish between their image and reality: “Look, I deal in dreams, but with my artists, what makes them successful, by and large, is their ability to separate playing the thug for an audience from being one in real life…. Unfortunately, some people believe the hype. When that happens, you have such incidents as I’m talking about.”
The philosophical dilemmas of the real self versus performance, along with the limitations of language in capturing reality, lend a cerebral layer to *Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed*, all while maintaining the thrill-ride pace. Blatte’s plot is filled with twists and a broad array of characters that keep the narrative engaging. By the conclusion, readers will have experienced a vibrant array of human behaviors moving through the boroughs and islands of New York. He infuses the edgy pleasures of the traditional street novel—guns, complex women, lost souls, and true talents—with high-voltage energy. A dissonant medley of natives, elitists, and immigrants springs to life in *Humpty Dumpty Was Pushed*, their dangerous flaws and wild humanity intact.
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