Lagging so so far behind

I made this blog to keep up with my reading. I'm already forgetting. Stupid stupid stupid.

Anyway, in brief then:

Dead Souls, by Ian Rankin. My first Rankin novel, I think. Not completely my cup of tea - I have an aversion to morose over-drinking grumpy male detectives. Might try a few more though (Rankin novels, not detectives, obviously, ha ha). Wasn't too keen on the story either - this is the one where a police friend of the hero (Rebus) commits suicide, the son of Rebus' first girlfriend goes missing, a serial killer come home to Edinburgh from the US. On the whole a bit meh.

Angel of Darkness, by Caleb Carr. This novel is written from the perspective of Stevie, Dr. Kreizler's young ward. I found "his way" of relating the events more interesting to read than the first book, The Alienist, and that in itself is amusing. That I should find the story-telling skills of the fictional Stevie character more entertaining than those of the equally fictional John Moore is a writing accomplishment in itself - I hope Carr keeps this up! The basket-case of this novel is a woman, cue much discussion of the sanctity of motherhood - real or imagined? Etc. Very enjoyable, although the ending is a tad too much. It appears to be written with the screenplay in mind - never a good idea. Shootouts on rooftops? Please, no. Although those were violent times...

The Fifth Rapunzel, by B.M. Gill. A serial killer has murdered four long-haired prostitutes, and Britain's best forensic pathologist has pinned a fifth murder on him, despite his protestations. Now the pathologist and his wife are dead, and their 18-year-old son is left alone in the world. Turns out that his father may have had his own reasons to lie about his findings in the 5th Rapunzel case.

Not a half bad book at all. No whodunnit, the ending is slightly unexpected as it features the sudden transformation of a minor character into a major one. Name of police hero: Maybridge - but he isn't a dominant part of the story, IMO. I'll try to find some more of Gill's work.

Marjaneh Bakthari: Kalla det vad fan du vill. Den här boken ska läsas om så bara för de lysande dialekt- och brytningsbeskrivningarna. Har man bara hört iranier prata kan man läsa mamma och pappa Irandousts repliker högt för sig själv och vips - man låter som en iranier! Råkul. Och malmöitiskan också - hur bra som helst. Som bok är den väl egentligen lite fragmenterad och hoppig att läsa. Däremot skulle det här kunna bli en riktigt bra film tror jag, om manuset lyfte fram historien om pappa Irandousts kompis, vars syster flytt, fastnat i Turkiet och tvingats prostituera sig. Den berättelsen, som jag gärna sett vara mer framträdande, ger hela boken en melankolisk klang.

Am currently reading a Dorothy Gilman book I bought for 5 kr at Myrornas. This is one of those rather no-name detective writers that exist in abundance and are never heard of. Not so bad though, so far. Better than Dan Brown... may his money turn to ashes. Although HUGE minus points for inventing an African nation. HUGE.

Ngaio Marsh

Ngaoi Marsh is one of my favourite favourites.

The book I've just finished is called Clutch of Constables. It features Marsh's Scotland Yard hero Roderick Alleyn, but mostly his wife, the artist Troy Alleyn. After an exhibition she decides to take a five-day pleasure cruise - a spur-of-the-moment decision after spotting a sign about a cancellation. Naturally, everyone on the boat is not as innocent as you'd think...

The story is opened by Alleyn, who is lecturing would-be detectives on a criminal called The Jampot. He tells us that he became personally involved in "the affair" because of his wife. The story then moves on to being told from Troy's perspective, featuring her letters to her husband as a way of keeping us informed of what Alleyn learned from her before turning up at the later crime scene. Throughout the book the narrative switches from the events at the time of their occurance and Alleyn's lecture. (Marsh often uses the relationship between Alleyn and Troy as a narrative tool. It also helps us, as readers, to feel closer to them as characters. )

What I like best about Marsh's books is how they place me in the time in which they were written. I get a wonderful sense of how people thought and reasoned, what was new and in and what was not. Clutch of Constables brings up the problem of rascism (called racialism, quaintly enough), but in a very 1960s English way - decent people treat the blacks decently and the blacks do their bit to avoid offending racially prejudiced people. Ludicrous as it may sound it does help you understand prevailing ideas of the time. A modern novel can never really portray the past that way. In a modern novel the present constantly intrudes. As an example I could mention The Alienist by Caleb Carr (a book worthy of it's own post, but it's not getting one today - maybe when I read the sequel). Set in New York of the 1890s, all Carr's heros are just that little bit too modern and open-minded to seem genuine. The same goes for Anne Perry's victorian detective stories.

This particular Marsh novel was, unfortunately, not so gripping a story. I found it a little too easy to get distracted. It may be the fact that it centres around one of those typically 60s style supervillains - international, quirky, extremely intelligent and a master of disguise. I never really buy those characters. But never mind. I'd recommend a Marsh anyday!

It's all in the heroes. I love Alleyn and Troy.