Detective Fiction Set in Laos, Australia and Spain

In keeping with my recent, brief remarks about the books I've been reading, some gems from SOHO press are presented here. My reviewing is far behind my reading, so there's still plenty more to come.

Thirty-Three Teeth
by Colin Cottrell. One doesn't normally expect to end up in the "recently liberated" Communist Laos of 1977, especially in the company of a very elderly doctor who serves as national coroner. However, what a delight Dr. Paiboun is- he takes us on a journey through the ancient and semi-modern traditions of a country trying to establish a "proper" Communist bureaucracy... what an ambition to have... but the ambition is not shared by the good doctor or most of his friends and acquaintances. The book stays away from overt politics for the most part, though there is reference to a Washington delegation that demands access to American MIA's, in spite of continued insistence that there never were U.S. troops in or over Laos.

An important character in Cottrell's novel is Nurse Dtui, whom her boss thinks highly of, but who is consistently underestimated by everyone except her mother. The combination of Paiboun and Dtui, both independent, one old and the other young, ends up being formidable. Add traditional Laotian spirits into the mix as Cottrell did, and a rich, unusual story results. The wonderful journey is far more important than the satisfying conclusion.

Death by Demonstration
by Patricia Carlon is not the masterpiece that I found her novel The Unquiet Night to be (see my review of that great thriller here). Death by Demonstration seems dated in its treatment of "naive" student protesters and in its rather blind respect for government authority, a respect that one would be hard-pressed to find these days in most places I'm familiar with. The story itself does involve an excellent mystery, a clever detective, and a cast of rogues, bystanders and victims who are not all what they appear to be. Carlon writes well, as usual, and reading for the words, paragraphs and characters is satisfying. Things droop only when the misplaced moralizing pops up in the text; it is quite organic to the story, but very much in the wrong, as we know now (in my opinion). A product of its time, Death by Demonstration is recommended with only minor reservations.


Death of a Nationalist (Soho Crime)
by Rebecca Pawel. This is a remarkably emotional story (it was, for me, anyway). Pawel's novel is about a fascist soldier/member of the guardia civil in Spain, and takes place immediately after the conclusion of Franco's takeover. Sergeant Tejada is a committed fascist, a believer, who is stationed in Madrid after taking part in some of the war's most terrible battles. He dispenses the fascist version of justice swiftly and without remorse, calmly shooting a woman dead for her suspected role in the murder of a fellow officer. However, Tejada is not a fool (in every way), and he doggedly, even creatively, continues his investigation of the murder, in part because the victim was a close friend.

The trail of evidence leads to the black market and provides some disturbing and seemingly out of character revelations about Tejada's former comrade-in-arms. As things progress, Tejada surprises even himself by developing an admiration for some enemies of the state. There is no middle ground, of course, and the parallels between Franco and recent US administrations are disturbing: you are either on their side or you are not a patriot. Of course, in post-war Spain, the punishment for dissent was brutal.

This terrific first novel recreates Spain in the aftermath of civil war and describes the deprivations of regular citizens who suffered through food shortages, purges and burgeoning totalitarianism. Death of a Nationalist is a remarkable story of a character development that occurs against all odds, as the truth keeps showing its inconvenient self through the investigative work of the diligent and dogged Sergeant.

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On, Off: A Novel by Colleen McCullough. A serial killer terrorizes Connecticut in the turbulent 1960's.

Colleen McCullough is the celebrated author of The Thorn Birds (Modern Classics), a trained neurophysiologist, a native Australian, and a current sufferer of macular degeneration; she wrote a crime novel, published in the U.S. in 2006, called On, Off that incorporates many elements of her life experiences. Macular degeneration is a disease that can lead to blindness, and it plays an important role in this novel, as does neurophysiology. Unfortunately, in spite of my hopeful approach to this story, I can't recommend On, Off without deep reservations.

Overall, On, Off is mostly well crafted, though there are too many side-stories, some of which tantalize and then go nowhere; in some cases, these appear to be vestigial plot fragments from early manuscripts rather than "legitimate" red herrings (take the opening sequence with Jimmy, for example). Could it be that that such an international star of popular fiction has become immune or impervious (or indifferent) to good editing?

The storyline takes place during the height of racial unrest in the 1960s, and the physical setting is the State of Connecticut. The major location is a small University town and the neurophysiology institute, known by all as "The Hug", that is attached to the local medical school. There is plenty of technical detail about brain research to satisfy the curious, though how germane this is to the final outcome is debatable.

We are in serial killer territory here, so one shouldn't expect a pleasant ride. However, there are many appealing aspects to the story, particularly the personality of local police lieutenant Carmine Delmonico and his struggle, aided by a at least one clever team member, to catch a killer first dubbed "The Connecticut Monster" but later called "The Ghost" because of an uncanny ability to leave no physical evidence at any of the crime scenes. Delmonico is not a stereotypical 60's cop figure for typical crime fiction: he is open-minded, cultured, incorruptible, has a respect for civil rights, is not racially prejudiced, and likes his women with brains. So far, so good (and then some!).

However, we are treated to a fairly stock set of academic characters associated with The Hug, and though these characters come to life now and again, they also blend together to some extent as the story progresses. They exemplify academic administration, wealthy donors, and different branches of neurophysiology, from clinical to pure research. Together, the characters operate in a volatile, hot-house environment where jealousy, ambition, egos and resentment are all cultivated in an unhealthy way. So far, OK.

The most serious problem I have with this book is the nature of the crimes themselves. It is not, apparently, enough that beautiful 16-year old girls of upstanding character and mixed racial origins are abducted, raped, tortured, murdered, decapitated and otherwise chopped to pieces (the order of these acts is not always as stated). This would leave us in a highly unpleasant realm, but would not be out of the ordinary for hard-boiled crime fiction. However, I found that the crimes themselves went far beyond terrible, and really exceeded what I could stomach. The violence, sadism and torture that we learn of, mainly through autopsies, is unnecessarily graphic even in a pathology report and far surpasses what is needed to depict "merely" brutal crimes.

So, while there are elements of suspense for a reader to enjoy, and while there are elements of interest when Carmine attempts to match wits with the Ghost (or is it the Ghosts?), I found it completely impossible to derive any pleasure from reading this book whenever the crimes themselves. or their memory, intruded on the story. I would have to say that the level of sadism and sociopathic behavior far exceed that of, say, Hannibal Lector.

If you can handle reading about these terrible crimes against children and are willing to overlook some gaping holes and cul de sacs in the plot, you might enjoy On, Off. Some of book rises above these shortcomings, but not enough for me. I recommend that you give this one a pass and simply move on. Read Gary Disher, Cara Black, Michael Connelly, Henning Mankell, Ian Rankin and many others from the range of detective fiction and fiction noir who better balance the scales of evil or depravity against opposition, if not necessarily opposites, offered by police and private detectives . These authors also take better care crafting their plots than the esteemed Ms. McCullough did for On, Off.

Lost comments recovered (reverse chronological order):

• James Bashkin

Thanks, Patricia. I feel I can handle books that are realistic and dark as long as everything works together as part of the story, but when exploitation is involved, when the violence is too severe and unnecessary, I find it troublesome. It isn't that I want to censor the work, I just wish I hadn't read it. And it was a shame because there was a better story waiting to be told using some of the great characters that did appear, but this story didn't turn out great at all. Far from it. I almost never write negative reviews, but I made an exception here. I appreciate your taking the time to read and offer feedback. Best wishes, Jim

• Patricia - Spiritual

Thanks for sharing this. It definitely isn't my kind of book. I don't like graphic. We don't need to feed into the violence of the world by what we read or write.

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