Review: Exile by Denise Mina

The second book of a trilogy, Exile continues the story of Maureen O’Donnell, abuse survivor, ex-mental patient, reluctant volunteer shelter-worker and genuine heroine for the age. Having survived the dramatic events depicted in Garnethill Maureen is spending her days trying not to cry and volunteering in the office at the Place of Safety women’s shelter. When Ann Harris, one of the women who had stayed at the shelter after supposedly being beaten by her husband Jimmy, goes missing no one but Maureen’s best mate Leslie seems bothered. When Leslie involves Maureen in the search for Ann, Maureen soon learns that all is not what it seems in Ann’s life.

I’ve put off plucking this book from my TBR pile for ages. Though there was a little apprehension that it might not live up to its predecessor (one of my top ten reads of 2009) my main reason is that I wanted to save it for a time when I needed a guaranteed great read. Happily my ‘second book’ apprehension was completely unfounded and Exile delivered on its promise of being an absorbing, gut-wrenchingly sad and darkly funny book.

It’s hard to know which of the dozens of brilliant things about this book to highlight in a short review but I have to comment on the writing which is superb. It is richly descriptive without an ounce of floweriness or unnecessary length and seems to leap off the page in its desire to be read, savoured and rolled around one’s tongue. There are gems scattered all throughout the novel but perhaps they’re illustrated best in Mina’s descriptions of her characters. Leslie is introduced with “…[her] hair was short and dirty and stuck up like a windswept hampster’s…She walked into every room as if she was there to get her money” while one of the policemen is described as “…an officious prick with a Freddie Mercury moustache and the social skills of a horny lap-dog”. That’s my kind of imagery.

The characters are another standout feature of the novel. For me Exile is about an underclass of abandoned, abused and abjectly poor women who are heroes in exactly the way those our society labels as such never really are. Maureen is the kind of person you want to wrap in a hug due to the traumas she’s been through, then you would re-think the folly of hugging a cactus. She launches into everything at an often reckless full-throttle and is dogged, loyal and though plagued by self-doubts I’d want her on my side in any fight. Then there’s Leslie’s mother, having raised two generations of kids virtually on her own and nearly dropping with age and fatigue she is ready at a moment’s notice to go to the aid of Ann Harris’ 4 children to save them from going into care. Even Maureen’s own clinging, alcoholic of a mother sobers up when it looks like her grandchild will need her intervention. These are people I won’t forget in a hurry.

Finally there’s the story itself. Against the backdrop of Mina’s brutal, sad and violent Glasgow an utterly compelling tale unfolds. It’s only crime fiction in the loosest possible sense, being more a story of intertwined lives of desperation, courage and surviving bastardry in all its forms. And for me the thing that saved it from being worthy misery lit, which a book tackling such subjects as this one does could easily become, is the vein of dark but totally credible humour evident from beginning to end. As if Mina is saying this is how real people do it.

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I reviewed the first book in the trilogy, Garnethill, in 2009

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My rating 5/5
Author website http://www.denisemina.co.uk/
Publisher Bantam Books [2000]
ISBN 9780553813272
Length 446 pages
Format paperback
Book Series #2 of Garnethill trilogy
Source I bought it

Crime Fiction Alphabet: L is for Locked Room Mysteries

The mystery in which a crime (almost always a murder) takes place behind seemingly impenetrable doors where the culprit has to all appearances vanished into thin air is probably the most enduring staple of crime fiction. Having been around since the birth of modern detective fiction (literally as Edgar Allan Poe’s Murders at the Rue Morgue is generally considered to be the first detective novel and is a locked room mystery) it’s easy to dismiss this kind of story as old-fashioned. But although they had their heyday during the Golden Age of detective fiction, people do keep re-inventing and re-imagining the theme to this very day. Just as every sci-fi writer has to have a go at depicting a dystopian future, it seems inside every crime writer (and some non crime writers) there is a locked room mystery story demanding to be told.

In a bibliography entitled Locked Room Murders (last published in 1991) Robert Adey listed and described 2000 novels and short stories in this sub-genre. I have neither the in-depth knowledge nor the time to discuss quite that many examples so I’ll share just a few of the ones I like most. Please feel free to share your favourite locked room mystery in the comments.

In 1981 John Dickson Carr’s The Hollow Man (1935) (a.k.a. The Three Coffins) was voted the best-ever locked room mystery by an esteemed panel of mystery writers. I’m not sure it would get my personal vote as best-ever, but it is certainly one of the purest examples of the art form, containing two variations on the locked room murder. The second of these is probably the first instance of an outdoor ‘locked room’ where the principles are applied in a completely different setting. The victim is walking alone in the middle of a snow covered London street when he is shot after a shout is heard. There are no footprints in the snow other than the victim’s but it is determined he was shot at close range. The lengthy but clever denouement is given by one of the most pompous sleuths I’ve ever come across.

Agatha Christie has penned several locked room mysteries but my favourite is Hercule Poirot’s Christmas (1938). The house-guests of millionaire Simeon Lee hear a crash, a wailing then a scream and they rush to Lee’s room and find it locked. When they break the door down they discover Lee with his throat cut in a pool of blood and the only evidence is a bit of rubber and an odd wooden object on the floor and some overturned furniture. I like this one because Poirot has to uncover layers of family secrets in order to understand the victim before he can identify the killer and their ingenious methodology.

Catherine Aird is another author to have a go at the locked room story during a long-running series. His Burial Too (1973) is the sixth of her Inspector Sloan books and takes place over the course of a single day. A man is murdered in the bell tower of a church but the room’s door is blocked by rubble and when that is cleared it seems impossible that the murderer has managed to escape. This is a bit of a gothic melodrama in some ways but enjoyable.

Douglas Adams even penned a locked room detective story which melds with science fiction in The Long Dark Tea Time of the Soul (1988). Adams’ hero, Dirk Gently, doesn’t feel he’ll have to do much other than listen politely to the ravings of his client when he is retained by a wealthy record industry executive who claims to be being stalked by a giant, scythe-wielding monster. Things take a dark turn for Gently’s finances (and his client’s health) when the client and his head are found several feet apart in a sealed and heavily barricaded room. When Gently belatedly takes his client’s ravings seriously, he uncovers the secret that gods who are no longer worshiped roam the earth as destitute beings and things get a bit fantastical from this point on so the book may not be accepted as a true example of the genre but I like it anyway.

Jeffrey Deaver‘s The Vanished Man (2003) is a modern take on the old theme in which Deaver’s quadriplegic forensic specialist Lincoln Rhyme is pitted against a vanishing criminal. The murder takes place in a New York Music school and sees the murderer run from the scene only to be cornered in one of the classrooms. This is quickly surrounded by police who enter the room after hearing a shot to discover an empty room. Rhyme and his partner Amelia Sachs are required to uncover the mysteries of the magic world to solve this crime.

I haven’t even started on the countless locked room short stories, like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle‘s several Holmes adventures featuring locked room scenarios including my favourite The Adventure of the Speckled Band, let alone exhausted the novels in the genre but I’ll have to leave it here. One thing that pleases me is that even though I’ve read a lot of these stories there are more to savour in my future. One I haven’t yet read is Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo‘s The Locked Room but as it is number 8 in their 10 book series and I’m only up to book 2 it will be a while before I get there.

Do you have a favourite locked room mystery? Or are you able to solve them all so quickly they don’t hold your interest?

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Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise is hosting the crime fiction alphabet meme which requires the posting of an article relating to the letter of the week. Do join in the fun by reading the posts and/or contributing one of your own. You don’t have to write every week (as I have ably demonstrated by skipping H and K, though I may one day get back to them).

It’s not always about crime fiction

I was chuffed when the lovely Kim from Reading Matters asked me to participate in her weekly Triple Choice Tuesday feature. I had to choose

  • a favourite book
  • a book that changed my world
  • a book that deserves a wider audience

Which sounds a simple affair but narrowing down the field to just one choice in each category made for much list-making (with lots of crossing-out) and a couple of sleepless nights. My final selections (none of them crime fiction just for a change) are featured in this week’s Triple Choice Tuesday post at Reading Matters. Head over to see what they are (and stay to check out the rest of Kim’s excellent blog).

Review: The Water Room by Christopher Fowler

Hat tip to Karen Meek of Euro Crime for introducing me to this series of audio books, I will definitely be looking for more of them.

London’s Peculiar Crimes Unit is a fictitious (I assume, though it would be lovely to imagine it’s real) offshoot of the less peculiar police force which focuses on investigating those crimes which are difficult, time consuming or otherwise unprofitable for the mainstream force to concern itself with. The main investigators are two men past retirement age, John May and Arthur Bryant, and they have a small team at their disposal. In this outing the ‘crimes’ under the microscope were the death of an elderly woman (although she was sitting in a chair and fully clothed when she died she was found to have river water in her throat) and the strange undertakings by a disgraced academic who looks to be gearing up for a future life of crime. Ultimately the entire plot converges on the residents and houses of a single street

The story was a complicated one and I’ll admit to getting a bit lost with it a few times. It relied very heavily on an ability to visualise the setting (if it had been a print book I’d have been looking for a map) and also tended to wander down rabbit holes of varying depths and degrees of relevancy. Despite all that, or perhaps because of all that, I was engrossed. It ended up being an epic story which almost totally failed to go in a single direction that I predicted; a definite highlight for someone who has read more than her fair share of whodunnits. Along with the crime there is history, art, Egyptology and a half-dozen other subjects explored, several of which appeared to have nothing whatsoever to do with anything at all but which I found thoroughly entertaining.

But the real highlights of The Water Room are Bryant and May, as brought to life by Tim Goodman (I suspect this will be another series like the Grabenstein/Woodman collaborations which I only ever read in audio format). The characters are deliciously full of quirks and might just be the prototype for what all crime fighting duos will turn into if they work together long enough: resigned to the annoyances caused by the other’s shortcomings but usually quick enough to circumvent the worst impacts of those quirks. Bryant is socially awkward, has an eclectic collection of friends and ‘experts’ to call on for crime solving and a pathological inability to use technology without it breaking. Or worse. May is multiply divorced, loves gadgets (before Bryant breaks them) and is a master at getting people to tell him things they’d rather not. Their relationship with each other makes great listening, as do their interactions with their team, especially their long-suffering sergeant who once daydreamed of being a screen goddess and still wears the clothes.

This might not be the book for everyone, certainly not those who look for order and straightforward logic in their crime fiction. But if you don’t mind meandering your way to an entertaining denouement and you enjoy complex, well-drawn characters who demonstrate you can still be smart even after you have reached ‘a certain age’ then I would highly recommend this one. I have already got my eyes (ears) on the next in the series (and would love to listen to the first in the series but only books 2-6 of the 9 book series are available to me in Australia in audio format, the others are geo-restricted) (but I’ll save that rant for another day).

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The Water Room has been reviewed at Euro Crime

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My rating 3.5/5
Author website http://www.christopherfowler.co.uk/
Narrator Tim Goodman
Publisher Recorded Books [this edition 2008]
ISBN N/A (downloaded from audible.com)
Length 14 hours 17 minutes
Format audio (mp3)
Book Series #2 in the Bryant and May/Peculiar Crimes unit series
Source I bought it

Review: 5ive Speed – A Novel by Charley Warady

Charley Warady and his wife Carol have been the voices in my head for about five years now. Ex-pat Americans living and raising their family in Israel, the pair host a weekly podcast discussing news and events in Israel, one of my favourite places in the world.  Charley is a comedian and writer and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on his latest novel.

The lesson Donald Roth learned during his late 60′s Chicago childhood was that near enough is good enough, at least for him. When all the other kids had a five speed Schwinn Sting Ray, Donald got a three speed and that set the tone for the rest of his life. His career, his wife, his life were all…’good enough’. Until he met his son’s future in-laws that is, and started to think he might be able to go for the five speed experience.

I’m sure there are people out there who know from birth they’re cut out for greatness but I suspect most of us, me included, are closer to Donald Roth’s point of view that we’ll count ourselves lucky if things turn out ‘not bad’. This made it easy for me to connect with him from the start, despite the fact I’m not a bloke or American or a baby boomer. His story unfolds in such a way that I was quickly drawn into his ‘good enough’ world and soon wishing him luck in his hunt for a five speed moment. There are some other terrific characters too, not the least of which are his two best friends Dan and Larry, and Donald’s…acerbic wife Emily (she’s not terribly nice but she gets great lines). The five speed woman of Don’s dreams is another standout.

As I may have mentioned once or twice I’m not much of a romantic. This is not because I don’t believe in love but because romance, at least as generally depicted in popular culture, is too damned serious. What I liked most about 5ive Speed is that its romance was delivered with oodles of humour, which is surely much more realistic than pulsating body parts and staring longingly into each other’s eyes. I think human relationships are pretty bloody funny and this book proves it. At one point Donald is in a serious moment with his love interest

He smiled at her knowingly. At least he attempted to smile at her knowingly. He wasn’t sure what a knowing smile looked like, and now began to freak out because he thought he was probably looking like a psychotic murderer with an idiotic smile on his dumb-ass face.

The non-romantic bits of the book are funny too. Sometimes ‘laugh out loud’ funny, sometimes ‘chuckle quietly to yourself funny’, sometimes ‘smile secretly and hope someone asks you what you’re smiling at so you can roll your eyes like they’re silly for even having to ask’ funny. I’m loathe to do comparisons but if pressed I’d say it’s like a mixture of Nick Hornby (A Long Way Down) and Zadie Smith (White Teeth) with a smattering of early Ben Elton thrown in for good measure. I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t get a kick out of this tale of daring to finally take a shot at living a life that’s more than ‘good enough’.

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My rating 4/5
Publisher Smashwords [2011]
Length 266 pages
Format eBook (ePub)
Book Series standalone
Source I bought it

Ever so similar?

One of the things I enjoy most about reading books set all over the globe is making comparisons between the worlds being depicted and the world(s) I am familiar with. As I read Liza Marklund’s Red Wolf I was struck particularly by a couple of things that I couldn’t find a sensible way of incorporating into my review but thought I’d discuss anyway.

A difference between my world and Annika’s that had my jaw on the ground was a small passage where Annika is chasing down a lead and attends a government office and asks to see the register of correspondence for one the government ministers which she was legally entitled to see. That day! In Australia you have to submit a request in writing to see the equivalent register, wait 30 days for a response and if your request is agreed to (never a sure thing) you are likely to receive a copy of the document with a swag of blacked out content as the bureaucrats will have redacted anything remotely sensitive.

A surprising similarity had to do with the environment. At first (or even second) thought I don’t imagine anyone would think of Sweden and Australia as being terribly similar . But when I read this passage where Annika is driving through the remote northern part of the country

To her surprise she emerged onto a wide motorway, she didn’t remember that at all. Her surprise only grew as the motorway went on and on without her seeing a single other vehicle on the road. The feeling of surreal desolation took a stranglehold on her neck; she had to struggle to breathe normally. Was this some sort of joke? Had reality slid away from her? Was this the road to hell?

I couldn’t help but think of the remote driving I have done here in Australia, thinking very similar thoughts as Annika does in this passage. Though in my case it’s normally stinking hot and in her case it was freezing cold I still felt a real connection to that passage. There is no feeling quite like driving alone on a bitumen (i.e. civilised) road and seeing no sign of other life. No cars. No trucks. No houses. No grazing animals. Nothing. For what feels like forever.

Can you think of a book you’ve read where you’ve noticed something really different from your own world?

How about a similarity that you weren’t expecting?

Review: Red Wolf by Liza Marklund

My sixth book for this year’s Nordic challenge is the third Liza Marklund book I’ve read so far this year. I have become quite transfixed by the insight the books offer into the Swedish political and social history as well as the character of Annika Bengtzon, whom I don’t always like but do find compelling.

Newspaper journalist Annika Bengtzon has turned down a senior editor’s job so that she can continue investigative journalism. Having prepared a series of articles on terrorism she plans another on the anniversary of an attack during which a man died which happened in 1969 at an air force base in the far north of the country. No one has ever been convicted over the attack but local journalist Benny Ekland seems to have some new information so Annika flies to Luleå to meet with him. When she arrives she discovers he has died and she learns from speaking to an eye witness the police have not found that his death was the result of a deliberate hit and run. Through her connections at the highest levels of the police she also learns that their suspect for the ’69 attack was a local left-wing activist known as Ragnwald who, they believe, went on to become a ‘terrorist for hire’ in Spain and France. When Ekland is killed and other deaths follow everyone wonders if Ragnwald has returned and if so, why? It is Annika who joins the dots in this fast-paced story.

I have to admit that this book isn’t really the best work of crime fiction you’ll read, in that the crime does not always take centre stage. Marklund is at least equally, if not more, concerned with using the crime and its investigation as a backdrop for the exploration of a range of social and political issues. Fortunately for me I found these utterly fascinating and so did not mind terribly that the crime was dealt with in a more perfunctory way than I might normally look for.

One of Marklund’s ongoing themes, modern journalism and what’s happening to it, is explored in great depth here. As a news junkie who feels like her drug of choice has been almost eradicated these days I found myself nodding along with Annika when she lamented to her boss

Anne Nicole Smith on the front page three days in a row last week…A boy who masturbated on a reality show on Saturday. The Crown Princess kissing her boyfriend on Sunday…Can’t you see what you’ve done to this paper?”

And when he responds that there is investigative work still going on she continues

That doesn’t stop me from regretting the way journalism is going. Along with the other tabloids we’re writing about reality television as if it was the most important thing going on right now. Now that can’t be right, can it?

If it hurts me as a reader to see the drivel that a significant percentage of news media content has turned into, I can only imagine how deeply it must affect a journalist like Annika (and Marklund who is herself a journalist).

The other aspect of this novel that had me gripped was its insight into Swedish political history, a subject about which I am woefully ignorant (now maybe slightly less so). I had always known vaguely that Sweden’s political environment was a more left-leaning one than I am familiar with, but I had no idea just how this had played out over time. The use of an attack in the 60′s gives Marklund the chance to explore her country’s political environment at that time, something done deftly via the character of Berit who is Annika’s mentor at the newspaper. She has been involved with left-wing politics for much of her life so able to provide interesting background. Australia’s political scene is largely tame and centrist so I am always intrigued by societies that have a different kind of political history.

As always Annika Bengtzon is a troubled character and, as always, I spent a good portion of the book not liking her actions. I have never found her dull or unbelievable though, even when I’ve been disappointed in her behaviour. She is still dealing with the mental fallout from the events in the previous book in the series* which manifests itself in a variety of ways including anxiety attacks and the voices of kind angels in her head. Now there are rumblings from her boss that she may not be able to continue working on the kinds of stories she wants to do. On top of that she encounters yet more marital problems and it was her handling of this aspect of her life that I found objectionable, though I repeat it was entirely credible. The author’s note at the end of the copy of the book I read made particular mention of this in that Marklund was widely exploring the theme of people abusing their power and she wondered if Annika would also do so in the right circumstances. Would we all?

For me the best crime fiction does what Marklund has done here: combine a compelling plot with insight into some aspect of politics, history or society in general. While finding out ‘whodunnit’ is interesting, it is never as satisfying as finding out why. When this is played out against a backdrop of general social commentary it is the most satisfying of all.

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Red Wolf has been reviewed all over the place including at Crime Scraps, Euro Crime (where Norman and Maxine both enjoyed the novel very much) and The Game’s Afoot (where Jose Ignacio was not so taken with the adventure).

I have reviewed two of Marklund’s earlier books, Studio 69 and Prime Time.

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My rating 4.5/5
Author website
Translator Neil Smith
Publisher Bantam Press [this translation 2010, original edition 2003]
ISBN 9780593065525
Length 508 pages
Format trade paperback
Book Series #1 in…
Source Borrowed from the library

*A book called The Bomber which has already been published in English in Australia and the UK (possibly also the US?) some years ago but which in my copy of Red Wolf is spruiked at the end as “The next Annika Bengtzon thriller”. Make of that whatever you like.

Review: The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino

I’m counting this as my first book on the Asian leg of the 2011 Global Reading Challenge.

Yasuko Hanaoka is a single mother whose ex-husband, Togashi, still bothers her for money and engages in other nasty harassment. One evening he comes to her apartment, gets threatening and ends up strangled at the hands of his ex and her teenage daughter, Misato. Ishigami is a maths teacher/genius and Yasuko’s neighbour. He visits the lunch-box shop at which she works every day just so he can buy lunch from his pretty neighbour. When he hears noises in her apartment he deduces what has gone on there and offers to help dispose of the body and cover up the crime. The rest of the book is then billed as a battle of wits between Ishigami and the police who are aided by their very own genius, physicist Dr. Manabu Yukawa nicknamed Professor Galileo, who happens to be an old college mate of both the lead detective on the case, Kusanagi, and our genius maths teacher Ishigami (though the latter two have never met prior to this case).

This book has won Japan’s Naoki Prize for Best Novel and is highly rated at both Amazon and Good Reads. I can’t for the life of me see why any of those things is true but there’s nothing new there, I am often out of step on such matters. As always, I’ll tell you why I didn’t think much of the book and you can make up your own minds.

For a start the plot does not really take us anywhere new or interesting. My one sentence summary of the premise for the book is “ugly man does stupid thing because he is in lust with unattainable beautiful woman” (and yes that is slightly more bitter and twisted than what the book presents but only a smidgen). The only suspenseful element of the entire thing was the question of whether or not the police would uncover the truth, except it wasn’t really that suspenseful because the ‘investigation’ wasn’t remotely credible to me. Readers are lulled into accepting the immediate and singular focus on Yasuko Hanaoka as a suspect because we know she is guilty, but the police had no idea that was true and their decision to only ever investigate the woman Togashi divorced five years ago would have been laughable if it had been depicted in a more traditional procedural. In a nod to this notion one of the detectives makes a comment along the lines of ‘he had no friends’ which, I suppose, is supposed to reassure the reader that all other avenues of inquiry were exhausted. Even the investigation into Yasuko was highly improbable, consisting of repeated re-interviewing and endless following people connected to Yasuko for no reason at all and acting upon a lot of baseless assumptions.

The cover-up devised by Ishigami could have been intriguing but it dragged on too long. For me it started to get vaguely tense in chapter 16. Of 19 chapters. Irrespective of the pace I never quite bought into the supposedly brilliant machinations being put into play by Ishigami because I never really felt the author was playing fair with me as a reader so I was actively looking for things he might have hidden. In the end I’d argue that Higashino broke one of the cardinal rules of mystery writing by ensuring that the resolution relied on a piece of information that we, as readers, were never given.

The characters in the book were even less interesting than the plot, though probably more credible. I simply found them stereotypical, flat and unlikable. The portrayal of Ishigami’s life as barren due to him being an ugly, misunderstood genius whose daily battle with bored teenagers and dreams of missed opportunities which could all have been made palatable by the affections of a beautiful woman was tiresomely derivative. Yasuko’s insipid acceptance of life as something that happens to you was cringe-inducing and dull. Other people decided everything for her, from when to give up working as a club hostess to whether or not to conceal the murder she has just committed. She didn’t even really make a conscious decision to kill Togashi and even her final act was prompted by someone else’s actions rather than her own beliefs or strength of character. So this all leads me back to the plot. One of the reasons I didn’t find the ‘will they get away with it’ scenario terribly suspenseful was that I simply didn’t care.

Both the translation (by Alexander O Smith) and narration (by David Pittu) were more positive aspects of the book for me. The dialogue in the book does sometimes have an awkward feel which other reviewers have attributed to poor translation, but I thought that when conversations were stilted or tentative it was natural for those people in that setting and reflected the slightly formal feel of Japanese culture. The narration was superb and really the only thing that stopped me from consigning this book to the DNF pile.

Ultimately I found this book more of a gothic melodrama than anything else and I guess I’m just not romantic enough to have been sucked into its orbit. I’ll acknowledge that it did create an atmosphere of sorts but for me there was no real substance to it and I grew quickly tired of the contrivances of the plot. My personal recommendation for a thoughtful and intriguing work of Japanese crime fiction would be Shuichi Yoshida’s Villain.

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The Devotion of Suspect X has been reviewed far more favourably at lots of other places including The Black Sheep Dances and Yet Another Crime Fiction Blog.

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My rating 2/5
Translator Alexander O Smith
Narrator David Pittu
Publisher Macmillan Audio [this edition 2011, original edition 2005]
ISBN N/A (downloaded from audible.com)
Length 9 hours 2 minutes
Format audio (mp3)
Book Series possibly the first in a series but so far the only one translated into English
Source I bought it

Review: 1222 by Anne Holt

My fifth book for the 2011 Nordic Reading Challenge is my first stop in Norway.

The book takes its title from the height above sea level (in metres) at which events unfold. During the worst snowstorm in Norwegian history a train derails and 269 of its passengers are taken to a nearby mountain-top hotel where they will wait out the storm in relative comfort. During the first night however one of the passengers is murdered and it falls to a couple of hotel staff and one of the passengers, former policewoman Hanne Wilhelmesen, to investigate.

I admit to being a bit of a sucker for the ‘country house’ mysteries of which this is a variation. Over the years I’ve read the same basic story several dozen times because I like seeing how different authors try to bring something new to the much-used story arc, with varying degrees of success. I’d put this addition to the tradition at a little above average, with much to recommend it and a couple of things that annoyed me intensely.

The positives first though, which included the characters. Hanne is very enjoyable, though I could be biased because I recognise my curmudgeonly side in her aversion to humanity in general. She is wheelchair bound since being shot on duty some years earlier and has withdrawn to a very small circle for her human contact (essentially her partner and their daughter) so dealing with the large group of passengers is something of a struggle for her. The fact that many of them want to help her (carry her, push her wheelchair etc) doesn’t improve matters as she has a real aversion to this. Although reluctant to become involved in the investigation and related matters that subsequently unfold, she does eventually take an interest in seeing whether or not she still has the skills to do the job that was taken away from her.

The rest of the characters are more of a collective palette than individuals, though from this outsider’s perspective they provided quite a fascinating look at Norwegian society. Even Hanne at one point comments on this as she tries to work out whether or not they have a statistically representative sample of the country’s population. There’s a group of priests, s girl’s sports team, a group of doctors who’d been going to attend a conference (including one who is meant I think to be an exotic little person but whom I found annoying) and assorted others. The way they react to various events that occur over the time they are trapped together provides an interesting sociological backdrop to the book.

The annoying things about the book mainly related to the uneven plotting. There’s a subplot involving people who had been travelling on the train in a locked carriage (rumoured to be the Royal carriage) and are now ensconced on the top floor of the hotel and have no interaction at all with the larger group. This thread balloons out to become an utterly ludicrous bit of nonsense that was entirely pointless and unnecessary and its inclusion made me cranky.

1222 is an enjoyable take on the classic whodunnit which nicely captures its stormy, isolated setting. For me the sensational (i.e. silly) elements of the plot detracted a little from my overall enjoyment but it’s still a recommended read.

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1222 has been reviewed at Crime Always Pays and Euro Crime

I have reviewed another of Anne Holt’s books, What is Mine

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My rating 3/5
Translator Marlaine Delargy
Publisher Corvus [this translation 2010, original edition 2007]
ISBN 9781848878105
Length 352 pages
Format mass market paperback
Book Series standalone?
Source I bought it

Happy St Patrick’s Day to all

Imitiation is the sincerest form of flattery so I will copy Kim’s idea of celebrating St. Patrick’s Day by highlighting the Irish books I have reviewed here on the blog. It’s important to note that I’m imitating the idea not the quantity as my 8 books doesn’t really stack up to Kim’s 75. But I am participating in the Irish Reading Challenge this year and have several more books on the TBR stack.

Alan Glynn’s Winterland “…one of those books that defies easy categorisation and is recommended to anyone who enjoys great writing, compelling story-telling and terrific characters”

Bateman’s Mystery Man “a loving satire on the crime fiction genre that turned me into the crazy giggling lady on public transport”

Gene Kerrigan’s The Midnight Choir “is a big novel, not in terms of length (the nine and a half hours listening time flew by) but in terms of its subject. Rather than focusing on a particular incident, investigator or criminal this book depicts a myriad of crimes perpetrated by an assortment of criminals and paints a giant canvas showing how and why crime happens.”

Ian Sansom’s Mr Dixon Disappears “if you can put aside your need for story for a couple of hours and just enjoy the beauty of funny, well constructed sentences and some charming characterisations then I highly recommend the book”

Ken Bruen’s The Dramatist “…a perfect noir tale with the best – most appropriate - ending I’ve read in forever”.

Rob Kitchin’s The Rule Book “On one level a ripping crime fiction yarn which would be pleasing enough but also made me ponder about the role we all play in making things impossible for police in with our insatiable desire for gory details and our seeming unwillingness to accept that real life is rarely, if ever, as simple as portrayed on shows like CSI” and The White Gallows “a captivating and credible reading experience, though not always a comfortable one as it raised issues that are all too real.

Stuart Neville’s The Ghosts of Belfast “not my favourite of the bunch but a very popular (and award winning) book elsewhere, a bit too testosterone-fuelled and lacking in light and shade for me

So, Lá ‘le Pádraig sona daoibh go léir