[In Kennedy for the Defense Mr. Higgins] tells his story through long monologues, which are often funny but too uniform (his Bostonians all sound alike, "this is true" being one of their favorite locutions) and too labored-over for my tastes. This garrulity, moreover, retards the pace of his rambling plot, which wanes, with our attention. A compensating dose of social observation, accurate or revelatory, might hold our wandering interest. But the most Higgins supplies in this line is the mere naming of local places, and while East Milton Square and Braintree Highlands have resonance for me, I doubt they will mean much to those who did not have the luck to grow up in Boston. As for Higgins's specialty, his talk, it is a wonderful invention, but as a guide to the diverse patois of Boston it is of dubious accuracy and as credible speech it has all the spontaneity and naturalness of a play in verse. I have the feeling that critics have lauded Higgins for his dialogue, doubtless under the delusion that it was authentic, and that this is why he eschews description, narrative, and evocation, for talk, talk, talk. (He even goes so far as to have characters overhear long conversations, a device that ought to have gone out with Polonius and that deserves his fate.) I hereby dispraise him for his talk, and hope that in his next novel he finds a way of sweeping it along with a more energetic plot. (p. 39)