Assault with a Deadly Weapon
is Washington DC street criminal John Allen's oral history of his life and crimes, as told to editors Dianne Hall Kelly and Philip Heymann – Heymann being Allen's lawyer and self-proclaimed friend. One of the problems I have with a lot of "as told to" books, and this one is no exception, is that unless the editors really work hard editing out the redundancies and repeated speech patterns, or unless the teller is very articulate with a strong vocabulary and intelligen
Assault with a Deadly Weapon
is Washington DC street criminal John Allen's oral history of his life and crimes, as told to editors Dianne Hall Kelly and Philip Heymann – Heymann being Allen's lawyer and self-proclaimed friend. One of the problems I have with a lot of "as told to" books, and this one is no exception, is that unless the editors really work hard editing out the redundancies and repeated speech patterns, or unless the teller is very articulate with a strong vocabulary and intelligent banter, the books tend to be direct examples of how that person talks and tells a story – and in the case of John Allen it's a very redundant overly braggart narration. Although interesting in a historical sense – especially in regards to the changing criminal traits of the 1960's – the book drags and takes on the feel of the reader being trapped as Allen's cellmate and having to listen to his exaggerated exploits all night instead of getting some sleep. I can understand this being considered fresh and innovative material in 1977 when the book came out. But over time it sort of fades into mediocrity. The fact that Allen comes off rather unlikable doesn't help. As with a few other "as told to" books I've read by mafia enforcers and federal snitches, I became annoyed with the narrator's bragging and the egotistical nature of them recalling their exploits, which in reality were not as unique or any more innovative then the next scumbag turning a hustle. Now don't get me wrong – I love a good criminal biography – I just got tired of hearing the same old tired rap and found myself skipping pages – which is never a good sign.
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