mystery | proper manky

September 16, 2012 by proper manky

Exit Music

Done reading.

Second to last title (so far) in Ian Rankin’s Detective Inspector John Rebus series set in Edinburgh. I think there are about 17 in that series before that. I may have read one or the other a long time ago, but I just can’t remember. Rebus seemed vaguely familiar. If this book is any indication the series is an excellent one. Rebus is an interesting, if not altogether likable character and the backdrop of Edinburgh with some socio-political commentary (e.g. “less concern with the underworld, more with the overworld”) is pretty fascinating, too. The police procedural in Last Exit takes place roughly at the time of the poisoning of Alexander Litvinenko in London. That story comes up a few times and leads one to believe that a similar conspiracy is afoot here in the murder of a Russian poet.

I bought the first 8 in the series to slowly catch up from the beginning.

Some nice expressions:

Perish the thought.
Slay us with an insight.
Bully for you.
Fancy a fry-up?
You taking the piss?

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September 2, 2012 by proper manky

Peter Temple

Done reading.

Two books by the Australian crime fiction writer, Peter Temple: The Broken Shore and Truth. Here’s a good review of The Broken Shore and here is one of Truth.

One point to emphasize is Temple’s gift at dialogue. I haven’t read such high-quality and truly authentic exchanges since Lush Life by Richard Price, he of The Wire fame (5th season). And that’s not only because of the ubiquitous use of Australian slang which is entertaining by itself, but also because of some of the dialogue which is subtle and smart, raw and visceral, and steadily dripping with sarcasm. The elliptical story-telling is superb as well and the characters are sublime. Especially Truth has some good story lines of discrimination against aboriginals, father-son conflict, urban planning, etc., all expertly woven into the plots.

Needless to say, the dictionaries of Australian slang in the back of both books come in handy.

A few quotes:

“He smoked, tapped ash into his plastic cup. He looked away, watched the birds across the street. Sleep, shuffle, shit, fight.”
“All chip and no shoulder.”
“There is no firm ground in life. Just crusts of different thickness over ooze.”
“Don’t get waylaid.”
“There are no permanent alliances, only permanent interests.”

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Voodoo Mystery

Here’s a news story about a mystery story that became mystery and then turned into a messy story.

Apparently, the German publishing house S. Fischer will shortly release a book called “Der Sturm” (The Storm) by Per Johansson written in the style of popular Scandinavian crime fiction. The book revolves around the particularly bestial murder of a German journalist and editor in chief of a major newspaper.

What makes this particular publication so intriguing is that a German daily, Die Welt, did some in-depth sleuthing and found that the apparent author Per Johansson does not really exist. This despite the fact that the book’s cover features a photo of the ‘author’ and describes him as living in Berlin and working as a web designer. It also lists the name of a woman who ostensibly translated the book from Swedish to German. Until recently, the S. Fisher publishing house even carried a fictitious bio for Per Johansson on its web site. That bio has since been replaced but is still preserved in the publisher’s 2012 Autumn “Rights Guide” along with blurbs from Håkan Nesser and Orhan Pamuk of all people. (see screenshot below). The publisher of the book has since conceded that the author is indeed a pseudonym for an “author duo.”

Even stranger still, Die Welt found a number of similarities between the murder victim in the book and Frank Schirrmacher, an influential author, literary critic and co-publisher of one of the most widely read German newspapers, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ), where he is responsible for the culture, science and other sections.

Die Welt also suspected that the author of the book is in fact Thomas Steinfeld, the culture editor of the FAZ’s rival Süddeutsche Zeitung, who also happens to be a former employee of Schirrmacher.

Steinfeld, in the meantime, has released a statement in which he outs himself as one the book’s co-authors yet insists that the book is not a roman à clef and that any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental in this fictional account. Schirrmacher himself would only say that he “does not read Swedish mystery novels.”

However, there are a number of media reports outlining the various similarities that seem anything but coincidental. These include that the victim wears an almost homonymous brand of shoes, has blond, curly hair, is about 50 years old, and has published articles on networks, robots and gene technology as well as book about the future and capitalism. All this, evidently matches characteristics of Frank Schirrmacher.

There are many layers of intrigue in all this about the German cultural scene, where Schirrmacher is a controversial and occasionally divisive figure. It’s not clear if this strange case of voodoo literature is a case of envy and revenge or a sophisticated marketing ploy or a bit of both. Needless to say, the German media is currently having a field day with this juicy story.

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The Last Detective

Done reading.

By Peter Lovesey. Published 20 years ago. Start of the Peter Diamond series (not the economist). Some good literary elements, varying points of view, well-written dialogue, interesting characters (including the singularly murderable victim), and nice sense of place in rooting the story in Bath. A few interesting allusions to Jane Austin, a one-time resident of the city. There’s a recurring luddite theme eschewing new forensic technologies in favor of old-fashioned gum shoe work – hence the title – which feels a bit out-dated by now.

The narrative structure and plot development befitting a first-time author was a bit surprising given that Lovesey had been an already experienced mystery writer by the time of writing this book. There’s a strange break in the narrative flow about two thirds through when the plot speeds up significantly after a major dispute. While there was some tension brewing prior to that, the event still struck me as somewhat artificial and provided unnecessary ‘botheration’ (a word used in the book). The resolution of the case also stretched plausibility.

All in all, a quite reasonable procedural, never really dull, but also not exactly rousing. In sections, it was a bit long-winded and I found myself a few times, to use an expression from the book, “stuck there like a lupin waiting for a bee.”

I did like some of the Britishcisms that provided intermittent entertainment.

Weir in the River Avon near Bath’s picturesque Pulteney Bridge.
Its perilous current plays a role in the book.

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Brenner and God

Done reading.

By Wolf Haas. Austrian Writer. First in a series available in English.

That’s some droll book. Unconventional crime fiction, somewhat noirish, with a likable protagonist and a postmodern narrator who chimes in periodically with warnings to pay attention or to be careful, and with comments dripping with sarcasm. Some wicked, twisted humor included as well.

Notable are the often short and fragmented sentences that go straight to the point without wasting line space on convoluted syntactic structures (e.g. “Because: emergency,” “Adrenalin surge: understatement.”). This does speed things up and frequently gives the book an offbeat, slangy tone. Time and place are often messed with leaving this reader occasionally borderline confused. Plot lines tend to intersect at odd and obtuse angles.

Some may be put off by this, but as long as one willingly submits to the curiously intrusive narrator as well as the serpentine plot and just goes along for the ride, it’s actually very enjoyable reading. It just takes bit getting used to.

There are many other endearing oddities in the book:

The intermittent meditation on the “Zone of Transparency” is an interesting, and in this book topical, narrative device. This refers to “the glassy membrane of the ovum, into which the sperm implants itself.”
There are several very unique and graphic scenes that require low-tech special effects imagination.
The Jimi Hendrix ring tone “Castles Made of Sand” is a gem.
Several times the expression My dear swan is used to indicate bewilderment. It sounds strange in English and is probably lost in translation for most. Yet, German is full of funky expressions like this: Mein lieber Scholli, Mein lieber Herr Gesangsverein, etc. The origin of My dear swan is evidently in Wagner’s romantic opera Lohengrin. Had no idea.
A nice section:

There’s nothing that doesn’t exist in the world. I’d even say that the biggest mistake in our world is that there aren’t at least a few things that don’t exist. Because more often than not, non-things and non-people are far more likable than those who’ve pushed themselves elbows first into the world. Or have a look for yourself: non-ideas! Then non-opinions, non-feelings, non-loves, non-conversations, non-thoughts! I’ll say it up front to all of them, walk right in, my door is wide open for you!

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Valerio Varesi – The Dark Valley

Done reading.

Second in the Commissario Soneri series, now also a popular television drama in Italy. Nice mountain landscape descriptions of the Ligurian Apennines south of the upper Po Valley roughly between Parma and La Spezia on the coast.

Not the best of crime stories but entertaining nonetheless. Published by MacLehose Press, known for quality translations from Italian, Spanish, Polish, Icelandic, French, and Arabic. Lots of good authors there.

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