‘Nobody ever told Morse or Rebus to mind their own business.’ – A Line To Kill by Anthony Horowitz

December 22, 2021 at 6:06 pm (Book review, books, Mystery fiction)

  But someone does say it about Daniel Hawthorne. Like those two famous fictional sleuths, Daniel Hawthorne, once on the trail, is indefatigable – utterly committed. He’ll see it through, no matter what.

In A Line To Kill, “it” consists of a suspicion of foul play, at work in a seemingly benign venue: a literary festival on Alderney, one of the Channel Islands. Now an island is a fine setting for a mystery, as Dame Agatha would tell you. A limited pool of suspects keeps the tension high and climbing higher. Of course, there is a murder, shortly followed by another. Officers from nearby Guernsey are present at the scene, but it is Hawthorne, acting in concert with the police, who keeps things moving towards their inevitable conclusion.

One thing must be said about Daniel Hawthorne: He pursues leads with inexorable force. If his blunt questioning causes pain, well, so be it. At one point, one of the individuals whom he’s been pressuring relentlessly rounds on him and delivers this diatribe:

“I know you’re only doing your job, Mr. Hawthorne, and you don’t really care how you get your results. I was there when you were giving your talk and it struck me then that you have absolutely no heart at all. You don’t believe in the law. You don’t want to help people or society. You don’t seem to have any understanding of morality at all. You’re a detective. That’s all that matters to you.”

Hawthorne makes  no response to this ringing condemnation. The narrator, Anthony Horowitz, thinks to himself, ‘As a parting shot, it was a good one.’

In fact, to me. the most interesting thing about this series is the relationship between Anthony and Daniel. At times, they seem like two halves of  the same person, but much of the time, they are seriously at odds. Anthony’s task is to shadow Daniel in order to write about his methods, much as Dr. Watson narrates the exploits of Sherlock Holmes. But there was much less static in that relationship than there is in the relationship between Anthony and Hawthorne. Anthony often feels like second best alongside Hawthorne, whose brilliant insights run circles around his own comparatively sluggish thought processes.

In the final chapters of A Line To Kill, the author has a great deal of summing up and explaining to do. I’ve encountered this tendency in any number of mysteries, and I find it off-putting – a sign that the narrative has become too convoluted, or the characters too numerous, or both. This is where the mystery short story has an advantage over a full length novel, I think. It’s limited duration keeps things relatively simple and straightforward.

Anyway, don’t let these final observations put you off reading the book. It was fun and a fast read. I recommend it.

 

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1979

December 12, 2021 at 2:38 am (Book review, books, Mystery fiction, Scotland)

  Allie Burns is young, ambitious, and smart. She wants desperately to make it as an investigative reporter. For the time being, she’s on the staff of a small regional paper The Clarion of Glasgow. She considers this position a stepping stone that will lead, hopefully, to a position with a major news organization.

Meanwhile, she finds a congenial colleague in Danny Sullivan; both his drive and his goals are similar to hers. Together, they embark on a story about tax fraud that targets some heavy hitters. After scoring with this investigation, Allie and Danny decide to go after bigger fish. and then bigger – until….

You’ll have  to read it to find out.

Val McDermid has based this story on her own experiences as a young journalist – ‘journo,’ as I often see them called in British crime fiction. It has a ring of authenticity. The other Clarion reporters come across as genuine and believable. But it’s Allie and Danny’s show, that’s for sure. They’re enthusiastic, resourceful, and above all, just plain gutsy. This is the start of a new series; I for one am eager to follow Allie on her (sometimes harrowing) adventures.

In the course of this narrative, McDermid pays tribute to some of the great writers in the crime fiction field, both past and present. At one point, Allie, in need of some good reading material,  finds just the thing in a nearby bookstore: Judgement in Stone by Ruth Rendell. YES!!!

Val McDermid

 

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Best Mysteries and Thrillers 2021

November 24, 2021 at 9:18 pm (Best of 2021, Book review, books, Mystery fiction)

Below you see the choices of Washington Post columnists Maureen Corrigan and Richard Lipez for best mysteries and thrillers of 2021:

                                          

I now beg your leave, Dear Reader, to weigh in on this topic.

First, may I say that I’ve already read four out of ten of these titles: Northern Spy, Sleep Well, My Lady, Dream Girl, and Silverview. Of those four, the one I like best is easy to choose: Flynn Berry’s Northern Spy. This is not just one of the best crime fiction titles I’ve read this year – it’s one of the best novels, period.

Here is how it begins:

We are born with a startle reflex. Apparently it’s caused by the sensation of falling. Sometimes, in his crib, my son will fling out his arms, and I hold my hand to his chest to reassure him.

Tessa will need all the strength she possesses to insure the safety not only of her small son Finn but herself as well. For they are living amidst the perilous uncertainty of Northern Ireland. Tessa works for the BBC and is trying desperately to remain above the noisy fray of partisan politics. But this leaves her with a narrow, treacherous path to navigate. Crucial decisions confront her at every turn.

Tessa has a sister Marian, to whom she’s very close. And Marian has secrets – dangerous secrets. So: Tessa, Finn, Marian…what’s to become of them?

In Northern Spy, we get equal measures of suspense, passion, and deep human feeling. This is an extremely wonderful novel.
*****************

I’m a  great fan of Kwei Quartey’s crime fiction. He sets his stories primarily in Ghana, his native land, and in his hands the country comes vividly to life. Thus far, he has produced two series: The first is a police procedural featuring Darko Dawson; in the second, Emma Djian, originally also a member of the police force, changes direction and  becomes a private investigator. So far, there are two entries in the latter series, The Missing American and Sleep Well, My Lady. I was delighted when the first was nominated for an Edgar Award last year. It was excellent! I personally did not enjoy Sleep Well, My Lady to the same extent. Nevertheless, I was glad that it earned a place on the Post’s ‘best of’ list.

I also highly recommend the Darko Dawson books. I’ve read four out of the five books currently in that series. While I’m very pleased with the creation of the character Emma Djian, I really love spending time with Darko and his family, and I’m hopeful that Kwei Quartey will continue that series.
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Laura Lippman is an author whose books I read, as they appear – no waiting around for reviews. That said, Dream Girl was thoroughly entertaining, but not – at least, for me – her absolute top work.
****************

And then there’s Silverview. Being as this was the final effort from the pen of the great John le Carré, I knew I waned to read it. Plus it’s quite short, always  plus for me these days. Nevertheless….

There were so many characters, and so much going on with the plot, that towards the midpoint of the novel, I almost gave up. Then somehow, toward the conclusion, things  got clarified, and the old magic began to work. So give it a try; it’s worthwhile.

Ave atque vale, John le Carré. We don’t have that many great fiction writers that we could spare you.
**************

At present, I’m eagerly awaiting my reserve on A Line To Kill. As I’ve said before, Anthony Horowitz, creator of Foyle’s War, author of several episodes of Midsomer Murders, and creator of fictional sleuths Atticus Pond and Daniel Hawthorne, is one of my favorite writers. As for the remaining five titles on the Post list, I have them all on reserve at the library, a process which takes longer and longer these days, for whatever reason.
*******************

I don’t want to sign off without recommending a terrific new series by Elly Griffiths. The first two titles are The Stranger Diaries and The Postscript Murders. In these novels, Griffiths introduces us to DS Harbinder Kauer. She is, in her own (privately spoken) words, “the best gay Sikh detective in West Sussex.” She’s also the most thoroughly engaging new protagonist I’ve encountered in a long time. I love her! and her family too.

 

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Intrigue, murder…and a basset hound named Balzac

November 7, 2021 at 4:01 pm (Book review, books, France, Mystery fiction)

  This time, it’s a cold case that’s got the attention of Bruno Courrèges, Chief of Police in St. Denis, a picture postcard gem of a town in the Dordogne region of France. Properly speaking, the case belongs to Bruno’s boss, Chief of Detectives Jalipeau. J-J, as he is called by his friends and colleagues, had landed this case early in his career – and never solved it. In the way of such things, it has  been nagging at  him ever since. Now, thirty years later, an intriguing clue has emerged. Bruno and his friends and colleagues join in the effort to find the solution to this mystery.

As usual in this series, the plot serves as the structure upon which to festoon the many wonders of this magical region of France. We learn about Audrix, a nearby town that holds a night market. People go there to select their preferred dishes from various vendors and sit outside in the summer evenings and enjoy a tasty dinner. Très civilisé, n’est-ce pas?

In this region, there are caves containing prehistoric art, and a museum devoted to this and other artifacts of the time. There are medieval castles, perched high on cliffs overlooking the Dordogne River.

Bruno, acting as tour guide for his cousin Alain and his fiancée Rosalie, gets a chance to show off some of the wonders of nearby Sarlat:

Other than the shopwindows, it was a place that seemed barely changed over the past four hundred years. Renaissance town houses led to a grand square and cathedral and narrow alleys that were full of restaurants and shops  selling local delicacies. Bruno took them around the back of the cathedral to see the Merovingian royal tombs from the centuries after the Roman Empire fell, and the Lanterne des Morts, a tall, conical tower built eight centuries earlier from whose top  a lantern glowed each night to mark the place of the dead.

Above all, there i Bruno, one of the most likeable, empathetic, and intelligent characters in contemporary detective fiction. He lives in a snug home where he gardens ambitiously, keeps poultry, and above all, enjoys the companionship of Balzac, his basset hound. Balzac is, bar none, the most irresistibly lovable canine character I’ve yet encountered in fiction. Among is numerous skills, he is being trained to detect the presence of truffles underground. “Cherche”, Balzac, his master urges him, “Cherche!” (Bruno also owns a horse named Hector; he is stabled with a  friend who runs a riding school nearby.)

I imagine that Balzac looks something like this:

(I want him!)

I cant’ write about these books without mentioning Bruno’s culinary skills. He’s a gourmet cook, and loved to treat h is friends to his delicious concoctions. At one point, he finds himself with a dinner guest who is a vegan. He takes this circumstance on as a challenge:

First, he turned the oven on, set to one hundred seventy degrees centigrade. He chopped the pumpkins into slices about an inch thick and put them into the biggest roasting pan he could find with a small head of celery, equally sliced. He then mixed a quarter pint of maple syrup into the same amount of olive oil, poured the mixture into the roasting pan and tossed the pumpkin and celery slices until they were all coated. He added salt and pepper and put the pan into the oven for twenty-five minutes. In that time, he made the soup, chopping four fat  green peppers, peeling and then chopping two cucumbers, and tossing them all into a blender with two chopped onions. He added several cloves of garlic puree squeezed through a press, salt, pepper, olive oil, tarragon vinegar and two glasses of Bergerac Sec white wine. Once the mixture was blended he put the soup into the freezer to chill.

Whew! And that’s just the beginning. There’s a delicious fruit compote of sorts for dessert, but we’ll leave that for another time.

There is a companion cookbook to this series, but to far as I can tell, it’s only been published in German.

 

 

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‘I loved the cold because it always made me more conscious of my animal self….’ – Dead by Dawn by Paul Doiron

October 17, 2021 at 3:43 pm (Book review, books, Mystery fiction)

Mike Bowditch, Game Warden Investigator for the state of Maine, has been tasked with reopening a case of death by drowning. Eben Chamberlain’s death had been ruled an accident, but his daughter-in-law Mariette isn’t buying that judgment. Wealthy, powerful, and forceful, Mariette believes Eben’s death was deliberately brought about. Murder, in other words – a murder that the Warden’s Service was either too lazy or too incompetent to thoroughly investigate.

The deeper Mike  delves into this case, the greater the danger that looms. The story is told in chapters that alternate between the progress of the investigation and a harrowing predicament in which Mike finds himself: His truck has veered off the road and plunged into the Androscoggin River (an actual river in Maine, by the way – else, who could make up such a name?) He manages to extricate himself from the fast-filling vehicle, thinking himself lucky. Little does he know  the worst of this ordeal is yet to come.

At first I was not sure that the structure of the novel was a successful device. I had some trouble keeping track of the timeline. (The investigation chapters are narrated in the past tense; the survival chapters, in the present tense.) But gradually the narrative began to tighten; it began to work. And I have to say that the chapters describing Mike’s desperate efforts to stay alive are among the most gripping I’ve ever read.

In summary, Paul Doiron has written one humdinger of a novel. It kept me turning the pages at a great rate, an experience I’ve had with surprisingly few recent mysteries. At the same time, the characters are vivid and authentic, if not always likeable. (I prefer interesting to likeable anyway.)

It’s always a pleasure to begin a series at the beginning and watch the main characters grow and mature in subsequent entries. (The first title in the Mike Bowditch series is The Poacher’s Son, which I read and liked when it came out in 2010.) Dead by Dawn, the twelfth entry, is the best yet, in my opinion. It combines the elements of a thriller with those of a more literary work, with great character delineation and vivid descriptions of the beautiful (and sometimes treacherous) Maine landscape.

And the excellent writing is informed with a keen sense of history:

For much of my youth, I had suffered under  the delusion of having been born  too late. I was a displaced person from the era of the Voyageurs who had set out across the Great Lakes in bateaux in search of furs; I was a temporal fugitive from the age of  the Klondike Gold Rush when men literally bet their lives against nature with more than riches on the line. Sometimes I still succumbed to this mode of thinking. An overfondness for nostalgia was the crack running down  the middle of my character.

I await with happy anticipation the next Mike Bowditch adventure. Thank you, Paul Doiron, for this outstanding series.

Paul Doiron

 

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Bounding, from wave to wave…

September 1, 2021 at 1:11 am (Book review, books, Mystery fiction, Short stories, The British police procedural, True crime)

…on the internet, that is, rather than on the actual ‘bounding main.’

I speak of two recent research adventures on the web, both inspired by Laura Lippman’s
new novel.

First – the premise itself. Novelist Gerry Andersen is confined to a hospital bed in his apartment in Baltimore. These are brand new digs, and he was blindsided by one of  those architectural features so cheerfully touted by real estate agents: a so-called floating staircase. Having tumbled down said design feature and badly broken his leg, he finds himself temporarily immobilized.

Gerry is not a detective – or not a professional one, that is – but his plight reminded me of two series protagonists who were: Morse and Alan Grant. In fact, Lippman at one point makes mention of Josephine Tey‘s Daughter of Time. In that classic of detective fiction, Scotland Yard’s Alan Grant, likewise laid up with a broken leg, occupies his mind with an effort to prove the innocence of Richard III in regard to the disappearance and supposed murder of Prince Edward and Prince Richard.

Then there’s The Wench Is Dead, the eighth entry in the Morse series written by Colin Dexter. (This novel was the 1989 Gold Dagger winner.) Morse, like Alan Grant, is hospitalized, not with a broken leg but with a bleeding ulcer. Like Alan Grant (and Gerry Andersen, for that matter), Morse needs  a way to occupy his mind while he’s recuperating. Someone gives him a book about a crime that occurred on a canal boat, in 1839, as it was making its way through Oxford. A passenger on the craft, Joanna Franks, was murdered; two men were hanged for killing her. The more he reads, the more convinced Morse becomes that the two men were in fact innocent.

I always assumed that the Joanna Franks case was fictional; it turns out that it was based on an actual occurrence. The victim’s real name was Christina Collins. She’d been traveling via canal boat to meet her husband, but she never made it. Her lifeless body was later pulled from the canal. Colin Dexter used these basic facts in constructing his narrative, changing the location from Staffordshire, where the crime actually occurred, to Oxford.

The Murder of Christina Collins by John Godwin came out in 2011. It features an introduction by Colin Dexter. Click here for an article with excellent photographs of the site.

The TV episode of The Wench Is Dead can be seen on YouTube:

In addition, the DVD is owned by the library – two copies, to be exact. Watch for Colin Dexter; he appears in the museum crowd at the beginning of the film.

This viewing experience may make you nostalgic for the days when this superb series was first aired, and in particular for John Thaw, whom we lost way too soon.
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The second adventure was sparked by this brief passage in Dream Girl:

It’s a fine little story, as clever and compact as the ones he used to read in those Alfred Hitchcock Presents anthologies. Kill your husband with a leg of lamb, serve the leg of lamb to the detectives.

What??

The story being referenced here is “Lamb to the Slaughter” by Roald Dahl. I read it several years ago; the mention of it in this context made me want to read it again. I found it in an excellent anthology that I own called Murder Short & Sweet. In his introduction to the Dahl story, the editor Paul D. Staudohar says:

It’s hard to imagine a more perfect short story than this one, both in plot and in presentation.

I couldn’t agree more.

This story can be downloaded by clicking on this link.

Murder Short & Sweet is available from Amazon.

And finally, do read Dream Girl. I loved it!

 

 

 

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‘….there must be no room for love in my heart now – I am quite alone, and I must stay quite alone.’ – The Beast Must Die by Nicholas Blake

August 27, 2021 at 4:09 pm (Book review, books, Film and television, Mystery fiction)

I am going to kill a man. I don’t know his name, I don’t know where he lives, I have no idea what he looks like. But I am going to find him and kill him …

Thus begins a strange and haunting narrative…

I’ve wanted to read this crime fiction classic for some time, so when I heard that it was being adapted for television, I decided  the time had come.

The novel is compelling, but drags in places. It begins with the diary of Felix Lane, the nom de plume of Frank Cairnes, and then about half way through switches to an omnipotent narrator. I found the abrupt change of tone somewhat jarring. Felix/Frank’s diary entries are weighted down with an almost unbearable grief; the second part of the book is given over to a detached, almost clinical recounting of the steps taken to solve the murder. (I’d rather not divulge who’s been murdered, at this point.)

This adaptation is strange in many ways. It retains some elements of the novel, but alters a number of them, most significantly, the gender of the main protagonist: Frank Cairnes becomes Frances Cairnes. And the North Devon setting is changed to the Isle of Wight. Also, Nigel Strangeways (played by Billy Howle), the methodical investigator coolly at work in the novel, is here portrayed as a barely functioning police detective, subject to panic attacks and all manner of other unexplained emotional difficulties and who, near the end of the series, lets loose with a blubbering mass of face-contorting weeping that I, for one, found nearly impossible to watch.

Nicholas Blake is the pseudonym of Cecil Day-Lewis, novelist and poet (Poet Laureate, in fact, from 1968 until his death in 1972), and yes, father of Daniel Day-Lewis. Sean Day-Lewis, Daniel’s much older half-brother, wrote a letter to the The Guardian about the TV adaptation:

….this version of the story is a bit of a travesty. I should know, as I was, in my father’s imagination, the six-year-old Martin or Martie… My father, the then-fashionable poet Cecil Day-Lewis, kept our family going with 20 detective novels written as Nicholas Blake. The father who saw the accident, and swore vengeance, was a detective story writer just like my dad.

In addition:

Considering the filmic attraction of Lyme Regis, it is hard to know why the TV version moves to the Isle of Wight as well as to an aggrieved mother. And by the way, Nigel Strangeways, originally a detective who looked and behaved just like WH Auden, was regularly on hand to achieve justice with mercy in all but one of the stories.

The TV version of The Beast Must Die possesses a bewildering number of characters, but one dark secret lies at the story’s heart. It is encapsulated in the chilling opening lines of the novel, quoted above.

The main reason to watch this series is to witness the performance of the lead actors. Cush Jumbo is a wonderful actress; those of us who followed her progress as the smart, irreverent attorney in The Good Fight already knew that. My husband objected to what might be termed Jumbo’s ‘uglification.’ It was hard to see what purpose was served by her painfully short gray hair and stark makeup. (Was she, in fact, wearing any makeup?) He says, and I agree with him, let’s allow beautiful people to remain beautiful, unless there’s a specific reason to degrade their appearance. Yes, she is grieving, but all the more reason to preserve her comeliness.

Cush Jumbo, as she appears in The Beast Must Die

Cush Jumbo in The Good Fight

A word also about Jared Harris, whose performance as the loathsome George Rattery is chilling and note perfect.He is, in fact, the best screen villain I’ve seen since Charles Dance as Tulkinghorn in Bleak House.

(The British seem to specialize in this species.)

 

 

I didn’t feel that the title of the novel needed explaining; nevertheless, Blake/Day-Lewis does explain it, at the very end:

In the first of Brahms’s four Serious Songs, he paraphrases Ecclesiastes 3, 19, as follows: ‘The beast must die, the man dieth also, yea both must die.’

 

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Dark Sky by C.J. Box: One Wild – and Very Satisfying – Ride

July 18, 2021 at 11:19 pm (Book review, books, Mystery fiction)

   So I was searching Google trying to come up with adjectives that would describe the experience of reading this book: spine-tingling, bloodcurdling, electrifying, gripping, edge-of-your seat… You get the idea. It was all of the aforementioned, and more.

As the plot of Dark Sky unfolds, the unwary reader may be forgiven for assuming that this will be a more or less traditional mystery, traditionally paced. But no! Do not make such an unthinking assumption.

Joe Pickett is a game warden in Wyoming; he’s also a family man. Wife Marybeth is the director of the town library; they have three daughters, all quickly reaching adulthood. Sheridan, the oldest, has an important supporting part in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Joe has been chosen by the state’s governor to lead an elk hunting expedition in the Bighorn Mountains. This would not ordinarily be part of Joe’s remit, but  the circumstances are special: the expedition is being mounted on behalf of one Steve Price, a star of California’s Silicon Valley elite. Steve is the founder and owner of a wildly popular social media site called Confab and also of another company called Aloft. The governor has his reasons  for wanting this tech billionaire to have an excellent experience on this outing.

At first, all goes as planned. But there’s a party of malefactors roaming the mountains who have a bone to pick with Steve Price. And due to Steve’s compulsive – and very up to date – posts on Confab, they know where he is,  who he is with, and what he’s doing. Other forces are arrayed against Steve, and therefore against Joe as well, as they undertake their arduous journey up into the Bighorns.

There’s a subplot involving a falconry outfit owned and operated by one Nate Romanowski. He’s a good friend of the Pickett family, but he has a tendency to play by his own rules, rules which sometimes skirt the law. Dark Sky is also about the ethics of hunting and the treatment of animals living in the wild. (In beautiful and sparsely populated Wyoming, there are plenty of those.) Horses too play a major role in the lives of the protagonists.

Box’s writing is wonderful, and his characters are fully three-dimensional and believable. And yes, this is one of those novels about which people exclaim, “I couldn’t put it down!” But I have to say, Dear Reader, that this is actually not my favorite reading experience. I like fiction that causes me to pause, think, evaluate, and wonder. And  Dark Sky caused me to do all of these things. That’s not to say that the narrative didn’t also scare me in places, because it most certainly did.

This is the twenty-first entry in the Joe Pickett series. I read Open Season, the first one, when it came out in 2001. I enjoyed it, but for whatever reason, as the series continued, I didn’t keep up with it. However, as time went on, the reviews got increasingly laudatory. (Plus I’d developed a relationship with Wyoming for the best of reasons.) So I returned to the fold with 2019’s Wolf Pack. I liked it so much I stuck around for Long Range, which was even better. And as for Dark Sky – it was simply the best.

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Latest entries in three long running mystery series of which I am inordinately fond (good grief…)

June 13, 2021 at 8:39 pm (Book review, books, Italy, Mystery fiction)

Well, gosh, I can hardly believe that we’re already up to Number 27 in the Inspector Banks series. It seems like only yesterday when the first in the series, Gallows View (1987), came out. My library buddy Marge and I scarfed it up at once, and have remained more or less faithful throughout. A glance at the listing on the StopYoureKillingMe site shows the accolades this series has deservedly garnered.

So – What about this one? The dual plots involve the shady dealings of a developer and the disappearance of Ray Cabbot’s lover Zelda. (Ray is the father of Banks’s colleague Annie Cabbot.) Of the two, the latter is the more compelling. It’s overall a reliably good yarn, especially for those of us who have been hanging out with Banks and his circle for over  two decades. We’re updated on his family news, and as usual, his amazingly wide ranging musical tastes are precisely noted, as in this sentence:

The Bach finished, and Banks switched to Xuefei Yang playing music by Debussy, Satie, and others arranged for guitar.

This latter is of particular interest, as he’s trying to learn to play that instrument, with a little help from his rock musician son Brian.

Not spectacular, but enjoyable and involving nonetheless.
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Reading the Guido Brunetti novels is, for me, a situation similar to what I described above regarding the Alan Banks books. And this is an even longer running series: Transient Desires is number 30!

I recall how back in the 1990s, we had difficulty getting these books. They were coming to us from overseas – Donna Leon was at the time living in Venice – and they arrived here erratically and in no particular order. U.S. publishers didn’t think they’d be of interest to American readers. A police procedural set in Venice? A detective who’s a totally straight arrow and a devoted family man to boot? Who wants to read that?

We do. Especially when the novels are so beautifully written and so artfully conceived.

Anyway, I thought this entry was an especially good one. One night, two young men in a motorboat leave two even younger American tourists, who have been badly injured, at the docking area of a hospital. The men then flee before anyone can note their identity. It’s a good example of a case that seems to be about one thing, but turns out to be about something else entirely.

Meanwhile, we get lovely scenes of the Brunetti family dining together and having lively discussions on a variety of subjects. Guido and Paola’s offspring, Chiara and Raffi, are approaching adulthood, seemingly with the same effortless grace and integrity they’ve observed over the years in their parents.

And Venice, that troubled and glorious place, is, as always, like a character in the narrative, in and of itself – a marvelous and mysterious entity. (I highly recommend the Smithsonian Associates webinar Venice: 1000 Years of History.)
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What great TV the Bill Slider series would make. They could lift the dialog right from the books themselves.

Some examples:

Slider and his partner Atherton are searching the house of a murder victim. Eric Lingoss, a personal trainer, was a health nut as well as a fitness fanatic. At one point, while rummaging through rummaging through Lingoss’s cabinets, a container of Omega Three supplement falls out and lands on Atherton’s head. This exchange follows, initiated by Slider’s inquiry:

“Are you hurt?”

“Super fish oil injuries. The man’s a health nut.”

“The body is a temple,” Slider reminded him.

“Up to a point. Let he who is without sin bore the pants off everyone else.”

And later, this:

“Did you know,” said Atherton, as they turned into Lime Grove, “that A Tale of Two Cities was first serialized in two English newspapers?”

“Really? Which ones?”

It was the Bicester Times, it was the Worcester Times.”

This exchange prompts an inquiry about Atherton’s Significant Other, who’s currently out of town:

Slider looked at him. “When is Emily coming back?”

“Sunday. Why?”

“You need  someone to take the edge off you.”

You don’t understand what it’s like, having curatorship of a magnificent brain,” Atherton complained.

Well, none of this is very serious, but it is fun to  read. Cynthia Harrod-Eagles is famously fond of puns and other forms of humor. Though every shot doesn’t hit the mark, enough off them do so that the reader is given plenty to smile about.

This series features a long story arc involving Slider’s personal life, so it’s advisable to being at the beginning. (Orchestrated Death is the first.) Current wife Joanna, an orchestral violinist, is in the final stages of pregnancy. Inevitably, the novel concludes with the birth of their second child, a daughter. Slider has two older children from his first marriage, so it’s all very modern, and a lot of fun to follow.

Oh, and the investigation is interesting, too, tougher than usual and all the more satisfying when it’s successfully resolved.

Peter Robinson

Donna Leon

Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

 

 

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The Expendable Man, by Dorothy B. Hughes

June 9, 2021 at 2:19 pm (Book review, books, Mystery fiction)

Published in 1963, this is a strange, most intriguing little book. The time is the early 1960s. The place is the Desert Southwest, more specifically the border between California and Arizona. Hugh Densmore, a medical intern at UCLA, is traveling this route home to his family in Phoenix. The occasion is the upcoming wedding of his niece.

When he sees a young girl by the side of the road, he stops for her. She is desperate  for a ride to Phoenix. Feeling that her situation is deeply unsafe, he agrees to let her come with him.

The heavy hand of fate is poised above this irrevocable  act…

The background to this story consists of escalating social and political turmoil of the 1960s. Hughes describes this strife as the eyewitness that she was. Her depiction of the desperation of a pregnant teenager is especially vivid. It occurred to me while reading this compelling novel  that I didn’t recall ever reading about this explosive issue in a work of fiction actually written during that time.

In these pages you will find a word that I for one had never before encountered: ‘aborticide.’

And yet…there is grace in Hughes’s writing, especially when she is describing the desert landscape:

This was the desert as it should be, this was the desert of the picture books, with the land unrolled to the farthest distant horizon hills, with saguaro standing sentinel in their strange chessboard pattern, towering supinely above the fans of ocotillo and the brushy mesquite. Because there had  been some winter rain, the desert was in bloom.The saguaro wore creamy crowns on their tall heads, the ocotillo spikes were tipped with vermilion, and the brush bloomed yellow  as forsythia.

No one who has seen the bleak desert terrain suddenly burst into wild color will ever forget the sight.

Dorothy B. Hughes’s best known work of fiction is probably In a Lonely Place. This is no doubt because of the fact that it was made into a great film noir, starring Humphrey Bogart and Gloria Grahame.

I tried to read that book but couldn’t – I don’t remember why. But The Expendable Man was an entirely different story. I couldn’t put it down. There are many twists and turns in this story; possibly the most surprising one concerns Hugh himself. However, some things about him remain constant throughout: his courage, and his integrity.

This was Hughes’s final work of fiction.

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