Book Review: Kings & Queens of Great Britain: A Very Peculiar History by Antony Mason
For about 12 centuries, the English have been ruled by monarchs, and eventually this form of government spread to all of the British Empire. That’s a lot of history, and many kings and queens to take account of. This small volume with cartoony illustrations gives the reader an overview of those people and what they did.
There’s a brief discussion of monarchs before the official first king of the majority of England, Alfred the Great, starting in 871 C.E. This includes the legendary King Arthur who may or may not have been based on an actual person. After that is a chronological listing of English kings and queens, with a paragraph or page for each, with chapters cutting away to the Scottish monarchs. (The Irish kings do not get the same courtesy.) With King James I & VI, the lines are consolidated, and after that they’re all British kings and queens.
This is very much a highlights-only history book, with only the most famous bits of each reign mentioned for most of the monarchs. There are, however, frequent sidebars on such subjects as palaces, revolutions, jewels, the Magna Carta and mistresses. The serious scholar of British history is unlikely to learn anything new. The book finishes up with a glossary, timeline, and index to make it easier to find the particular monarch you’re looking for. It’s current as of January 2015.
Due to some salacious subject matter, I’d rate this as suitable for senior high students on up. (There’s also a lot of violence; many of these people left the throne via murder.) This would make a nice gift for your Anglophilic friend or relative, or Game of Thrones fans who have somehow never read the history that show is loosely based on.
During World War Two, Hungary was one of the Axis powers, with its own fascists led by the Arrow Cross Party. At first this seemed like a good idea, as Hungary gained back territories it had lost after the breakup of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. But late in the war, it became obvious that they were on the losing side. The Hungarian government tried to broker a separate armistice with the Soviet Union, only to have their country occupied by the Germans. As a result, they were forced to fight to the bitter end.
In late December of 1944 through February of 1945, the Soviet Army encircled the city of Budapest and besieged the troops and civilians within. It is that siege that gives us the title of this book, which contains thirteen short stories all of which tie into that event in some way, even if the characters are living in the Hungarian diaspora community in Toronto.
“The Atlas of B. Görbe” is about a struggling writer in New York City who turns to an older author of children’s books for assistance in finding his way.
“The Animals of the Budapest Zoo, 1944-1945” is set within the siege itself as the zookeepers come to realize they might not be able to keep themselves alive, let alone their charges, and the extreme steps one of the keepers takes.
“Sailor’s Mouth” takes place in Romania, where a man has come to adopt a child of Hungarian heritage. He may have become misled by his carnal urges. One of the themes in this story is “The Museum of Failed Escapes” that Judit, the woman the man is seeing, tells him about.
“The Restoration of the Villa Where Tíbor Kálmán Once Lived” concerns a deserter who joins the Communist occupation after the war. He takes over the home of a man who used to provide people with false papers to escape the Axis, and betrays their names to the Soviets one by one. But he gets the distinct feeling the villa is rejecting him…this one won an O. Henry award.
“The Beautician” is about a college student preparing his thesis paper. He finds a possible topic in the dark past of the manager of the club for Hungarian exiles in Toronto. But is that something he really wants to make known?
“Days of Orphans and Strangers” follows up on the Kálmán family mentioned in “Restoration.” One of them has been talking in his sleep, but not in the language you’d expect.
“Rosewood Queens” concerns the narrator’s relationship with her father’s lover, a collector of chess pieces (but never full sets.)
“The Encirclement” is about a lecturer on the topic of the Budapest siege, who finds himself with a persistent blind heckler who presents a different version of events. The details are too close to be fake, but that’s not the way the lecturer remembers it. I thought this story was the best in the book.
“The Society of Friends” features a long-standing love triangle among three Hungarian emigres. It reminded me a bit of the movie Grumpy Old Men. It shares a character with “Beautician.”
“The Miracles of Saint Marx” concerns a secret police officer’s search for a dissident who spreads tales of miraculous events. It becomes personal when one of those stories is about her. Also very good.
“The Selected Mug Shots of Famous Hungarian Assassins” is about a boy who handcrafts trading cards featuring what he says are Hungarian assassins. It seems to be all his imagination, until the narrator finds a book on the same topic years later… This story includes slurs against people with mental disabilities as a plot point, getting the boys in deep trouble.
“The Ghosts of Budapest and Toronto” is another tale of the Kálmán family. Ghosts are seen in two cities as separated members of the family miss each other.
“The Homemade Doomsday Machine” finishes the volume with a genius child who seeks the destruction of society and the Nazi atomic scientist who shares that interest. Has perhaps the happiest ending in the book. Has a character that seems too eager to diagnose the child as autistic, especially as she has no psychological or medical training.
Most of the stories are bittersweet, with a few downer endings. I found the writing competent but not compelling on average.
There are frequent mentions of rape, and suicide comes up a time or two. While the travails of the Jewish and Romani people in Hungary are mentioned, the emphasis is on ethnic Hungarians. There’s some period sexism and a number of the female characters express dislike of the patriarchal Hungarian family culture. Due to the heavy themes, I’d recommend this for college age and up.
Overall, I am glad I got the chance to read this. Books on the Hungarian experience are uncommon, and I discovered much I did not know. Recommended for other people wanting to broaden their experience.
Book Review: Classic American Short Stories compiled by Michael Kelahan
This book is more or less exactly what it says in the title, a compilation of short(ish) stories written by American authors, most of which are acknowledged as classics by American Lit professors. The stories are arranged by author in roughly chronological order from the early Nineteenth Century to the 1920s to stay safely in the public domain.
The fifty-one stories included begin with Washington Irving’s “Rip Van Winkle”, a tall tale about a henpecked husband who drinks ghostly beer and sleeps for twenty years, right through the American Revolution. The book ends with “Winter Dreams” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. A young man from Minnesota finds great success in the laundry business, but heartache when the woman he loves cannot settle for just him. In between are ones that are very familiar to me, like “The Telltale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe (a murderer confesses his crime in an effort to prove his sanity) and stories that were new to me, like “The Revolt of ‘Mother'” by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (a New England woman, tired of an unkept promise, takes matters into her own hands.)
There’s a wide variety of genres represented, from “realistic” slice of life stories through mystery and fantasy to outright horror. The chronological order highlights the changing social attitudes depicted in the stories, particularly the two Edith Wharton stories about divorce. Women are reasonably well-represented, and there are a couple of writers of color as well.
Of course, just because a story is “classic” does not mean it will appeal to everyone. I found Henry James’ novella “The Aspern Papers” (literary buff infiltrates the household of a famous poet’s ex-lover in an effort to gain any memorabilia she might have of him) tedious and predictable. I am not alone in this, but many other readers have found it fascinating.
Content issues: Many of these stories have elements of period racism, sexism and classism; sometimes it’s dealt with within the story itself, but other times it pops up as a nasty surprise. “Paul’s Case” by Willa Cather, about a boy who wants the finer things in life without the tedium of putting in decades of hard labor to get them, deals with suicide.
This is a Barnes & Noble collector’s edition, and is quite handsome and sturdy, with a leather binding, gilt-edged pages and a silk bookmark for a reasonable price. However, the fact that it has a “compiler” rather than an editor is telling. There are scattered typos; I do not know if they were caused by errors in transcription, or if the sources were not scrutinized carefully enough. The author bios at the end are not quite in alphabetical order, and miss out Washington Irving altogether.
Overall, most of these stories are worth reading at least once, and many are worth rereading over the years. Highly recommended to people who don’t already have their favorites from this collection in a physical book, or are curious about the stories they haven’t read yet. It’d also make a nice gift for your bookworm friend or relative.
Anime Review: Lupin the Third: The Italian Adventure
Arsène Lupin III, alleged French-Japanese descendant of the famous 19th Century criminal Arsène Lupin, is a master thief. If he says he’ll steal something, Lupin the 3rd most certainly will. A master of disguise, able to open any lock, and possessed of great cunning, he steals treasures and hearts with equal ease. Lupin usually works with gunman Daisuke Jigen, swordsman Goemon Ishikawa and femme fatale Fujiko Mine, though they aren’t always loyal to each other–particularly Fujiko. The gang is perpetually pursued by the dogged Inspector Koichi Zenigata of the ICPO. Now Lupin the Third has come to Italy; what is he up to this time? Is he really just there to get married?
This Italian-Japanese co-production is the latest anime series based on the Lupin the Third manga by Monkey Punch. The manga in turn was loosely based on the original Lupin stories by Maurice Leblanc. Back in the 1960s, Japan didn’t enforce international copyright, so when the Leblanc estate finally found out about the manga, they couldn’t block it or insist on a cut of the profits, but were able to tie up international rights, meaning that most Lupin III products overseas had to use other names like “Rupan” or “Wolf.” (The original Lupin stories entered the public domain in 2012.)
The series begins in the small independent republic of San Marino, as Lupin marries bored heiress Rebecca Rossellini as part of a plan to steal the greatest treasure of that tiny country. However, it turns out that Rebecca has her own plans, and with the aid of her faithful manservant Robson turns the tables partially on the master thief. Since he never formally consummated his marriage with Rebecca, but neither is he formally divorced from her, Lupin decides to stay in the Italian area for a while.
One of his thefts brings Lupin into conflict with Agent Nyx of MI-6, who has superhuman hearing, among other gifts. Nyx turns out to be a less than enthusiastic agent, who wants to retire from spying to spend more time with his family…but MI-6 needs him too much.
Things take a SFnal turn when it turns out there’s a virtual reality/shared dream device out there which ties into the return of Italy’s most brilliant mind, Leonardo da Vinci! Lupin, his allies and adversaries must figure out how to survive the Harmony of the World.
The series is largely comedy, but with serious moments, and some episodes are very sentimental indeed. (This contrasts with the original manga, which had a darker sense of humor, and a nastier version of Lupin who would not hesitate at murder or rape to get his way.) All of the major characters get focus episodes that explore their personalities and skills.
Placing the entire series on the Italian Peninsula (with brief excursions to France and Japan) gives it a thematic consistency that previous Lupin series have lacked, and this is all to the good. Having new recurring characters also allows a bit more variety in plotlines for the episodes. Mind, Rebecca can get annoying from time to time and feels shoehorned into a couple of episodes. (A couple of Rebecca-centric episodes were removed from the Japanese broadcast order.)
While the primary appeal will be to existing Lupin the Third fans, this series does a good job of filling newcomers in on everything they really need to know. If you enjoy stories about clever gentleman thieves with a soft spot for pretty ladies, this one is for you.
Here’s a look at the Italian version of the opening theme!
Comic Book Review: Noble Causes Archives, Vol. 1 written by Jay Faerber
Liz Donnelly is nervous about meeting her future in-laws. After all, she’s just a normal bookstore manager, and they’re the Noble Family, celebrity superheroes, beloved across the world. Her fiance Race Noble is nice enough, but Liz soon learns that behind the glitzy facade, the Noble family has severe problems that are tearing them apart. When tragedy strikes, it could be the ending of Liz’s world, if not everyone’s.
This Image Comics offering was a series of miniseries before getting approved for an ongoing (with a soft reset.) It takes the soap opera aspects of modern superhero comics, and the idea of superheroes as celebrities, and runs with it. Indeed, the soap opera is so central that it’s several issues before we see one of the family do something that matches the “hero” part of the genre.
At the beginning, the family consists of “Doc” Noble, an inventor/adventurer who has retreated into his laboratory more and more as the years have gone by, rather than interact with his brood; his wife Gaia, a nature mage from another dimension who craved the celebrity lifestyle and has crafted the family’s public image; Icarus, Doc’s robot assistant, who considers himself the dutiful son; Rusty, who recently suffered an “accident” that required transplanting his brain into a robotic body; Celeste, Rusty’s gold digger wife, who was unfaithful to him even before he became all metal; Race, a super-speedster who has the best emotional balance of the crew; Krennick, Race’s best buddy and son of family enemy Draconis, who has an unrequited thing for; Zephyr, only daughter and a rebellious teenager whose promiscuity has gotten out of hand; and Frost, Gaia’s son by a brief affair, who officially does not exist, and has been sleeping with Celeste.
Liz’s marriage to Race helps precipitate a series of events that bring to light several family secrets and relationship crises. The series is really good at issue-ending cliffhangers.
This black and white reprint volume covers up to issue #12 of the ongoing, and the resolution of the Zephyr pregnancy plotline. There were a number of back-up stories that flashed back to events before Liz met the family; instead of being bundled with the main stories of each issue they were published in, they have been placed at the end of the volume. These stories explain some motivations and sometimes make the characters’ actions more sympathetic.
Content warnings: There’s a fairly gory scene early on, a lot of talk about sex (and some near-sex scenes) and some rather disturbing implications in the backstory. I’d say senior high school and up for readership.
Many of the characters are not particularly likable. (When Doc suddenly starts being a somewhat better husband and father, Gaia worries that he’s terminally ill.) But there are enough of them that are sympathetic or enjoyable to keep reading.
The art is by a number of different creators, mostly in the decent to acceptable range.
Recommended to comic book fans who are really into the soap opera aspect.
Magazine Review: Gamma 3 edited by Charles E. Fritch
Gamma was a short-lived science fiction magazine (five issues in 1963-64), known for high-quality cover art and snagging stories from authors connected with the film industry. (Indeed, I picked up this issue because of the sweet Morris Scott Dollens art.) It was digest-sized and relatively thin. Let’s look at the contents!
“The Girl of Paradise Planet” by Robert Turner concerns retired millionaire George Prentiss. He and his third wife Evvie have come to the title planet on a long vacation (her idea.) Bored, Robert has taken up underwater swimming with future SCUBA gear. This world is not supposed to have any native intelligent life, but then where did that water-breathing naked girl come from? Is George having hallucinations from the water pressure, or is he just going insane?
Over the course of the story, we learn that George is a self-made man who spent his youth starting a business, growing that business and getting rich, so he didn’t look for romance until middle age, and three times went for trophy wives, none of whom have worked out. Which is okay…except that the possibly imaginary Irlana comes across as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl whose function is to rekindle his love of life (and is younger and prettier than Evvie.)
Mr. Turner was an experienced author, but this was his first time writing science fiction, and I can tell. He’s certainly no climatologist, and the ending twist relies on most of the characters forgetting a perfectly logical explanation for events that would be common knowledge to them, even if the reader wouldn’t know it.
“The Feather Bed” by Shelley Lowenkopf presents a bizarre future in which the economy runs on make-work. For example, three years after a building is built, all the piping is torn out and replaced just to give the plumbing crews something to do. This extends to writing as well. Every 37 years, all extant editions of Shakespeare are destroyed, and replaced with “newly written” versions by living authors. Except that it’s just retyping the whole thing verbatim. And the same goes for all other works of fiction by dead writers.
Lew has had it with the system–he doesn’t want to “rewrite” King Lear again, and on the union points system, it will be years before he’s allowed to write more of the original fiction that made him a successful author in the first place. Unfortunately, he’s just one man against the system, and winds up causing even the FBI to intervene. If Lew sticks to his principles, he could lose everything, including the writing he really wants to do.
“Angel Levine” by Bernard Malamud stars Jewish tailor Manischevitz, who is going through hard times. His shop burned down, and the insurance money was eaten by customer lawsuits. His son died in the war, and his daughter ran off with a man and never communicates. He’s got chronic pain, and his wife Rosie is dying. Manischevitz asks God for assistance, but when an “angel” named Levine shows up, there are reasons the tailor is unconvinced. It’s ultimately a story about belief in the face of your assumptions about people. There is racism and anti-Semitism in the story. (This one was reprinted from one of the author’s collections.)
“The (In)visible Man” by Edward W. Ludwig is a fantasy about James Smith, who has become socially invisible. He’s finally decided to exploit that fact, but one person has finally become able to see him, and that is both Mr. Smith’s weakness and best hope. It’s a fairly sweet story, helped along by James Smith, even when he turns criminal, sticking to a “least harm” principle. There is an attempted suicide in the story.
“Inside Story” by Miriam Allen deFord takes place in a far future when the Galactic Federation sends scouts to find new worlds that one of their myriad species can live on and isn’t already inhabited by intelligent life. These planets are exceedingly rare. It looks, however, like this one might be ideal. Presuming the scout party doesn’t find any surprises like rapid inexplicable temperature variations….
In this future, scout ships have mixed-sex crews, but this is because every member of that crew is a different non-compatible species. The twist ending is suitably bizarre.
“The Birth” by George Clayton Johnson is a retelling of a classic story from a different perspective. See how long it takes you to figure out which one!
“Buttons” by Raymond E. Banks concerns John Burke, a starship officer who is forced by disaster to upload his mind to a computer memory storage system. Supposedly, he will have his mind reinserted into his human body once that’s fixed. But that procedure has a high failure rate, and Burke is rapidly discovering the advantages of being a disembodied intelligence. There’s some relatively early thought about the benefits versus possible hazards of transhumanism.
“Society for the Prevention” by Ron Goulart is a humorous piece about the travails of a interplanetary surplus store manager. He’s just gotten a large shipment of extremely ugly wicker urns, the natives of the planet have organized a violent “Shop Local” campaign, and the newly arrived Young Girls Space Police and Welfare Committee officer suspects him of being in cahoots with the inventor of a death ray. Everything more or less works out in the end, but now the store manager has to try to explain to his boss why the urns didn’t get sold. The female Space Police officer is treated as a joke–admittedly so is everyone else, but it may not sit well with some readers, as part of the joke is that women are completely unsuited for the work.
The final story is “The Snail Watcher” by Patricia Highsmith. This creepy tale is about a man who gets a little too fascinated with the reproductive habits of snails, not noticing that these particular snails are reproducing much more rapidly than is anywhere near normal.
Interior art is by Luan Metheringham, who sadly seems to have completely dropped out of sight with only her Gamma appearances known.
There is also an interview with “Ivan Kirov” about the state of Soviet science fiction in the early 1960s. He declined to have his real name published for security reasons. Per the interview, SF in the USSR was beginning to blossom after being suppressed during the Stalinist years. Noted was a tendency for “nuts and bolts” stories of adventure, with little of the social or psychological exploration that had become common in Western nations’ science fiction. (At the time, the government censors were big on Soviet Communism going worldwide being the only possible future, and writers were expected to get on board with that.)
The Banks story is the one that I liked best, though the Highsmith story was also effective. Worth seeking out if you’re a fan of either author or the cover artist.
Book Review: The Opposite of Everyone by Joshilyn Jackson
Paula Vauss was born with blue skin, so her mother Karen (“Kai”) named her Kali Jai after the Hindu goddess of destruction and fresh starts. Estranged from her mother for many years, Paula has become a divorce lawyer, far better at the destruction part than the fresh starts. But now comes a message that Kai is dying. And then, out of the blue, Paula learns that her mother had another child, a secret legacy. The problem is that no one knows where that child is now.
Paula has allies. Her private detective ex-lover Birdwine, struggling with alcoholism and his own broken past, and her brother Julian (born “Ganesha”), a second surprise sibling. But the trail’s gone cold, and meanwhile Paula must deal with a divorce case turned deadly.With the new information she has, Kali Jai Vauss must re-examine her memories to recover what actually happened to her family.
This is my first Joshilyn Jackson book, but apparently she’s had several bestsellers. My sister really likes her stuff. I am told that Ms. Jackson is considered a “Southern” writer, and certainly the book takes place in the southern United States, primarily around Atlanta, Georgia.
Paula is mixed-race (mixed with what she doesn’t know, as there was no father in the picture), and this comes up several times in the course of the story. The effects are mostly negative in her youth, but she’s learned how to turn her looks to advantage in the present day. Her unique upbringing and the estrangement from her mother have left Paula broken in many ways, despite being a high-functioning individual–part of her journey in the book is understanding why things happened as they did, and finally growing beyond that.
There’s a lot of talk about sex, Paula having been promiscuous in the past, but none on-stage. The past comes up to haunt Paula in other ways that are more effective.
The ending is very final; no sequel or trilogy here; and the acknowledgements make it clear that Ms. Jackson has no plans for a Kali Jai Vauss series.
While quite good, this book wasn’t my cup of tea. Recommended for fans of Joshilyn Jackson and her general type of novel.
Disclaimer: I received this Advance Reader’s Edition free from the publisher for the purpose of reading and reviewing. No other compensation was involved. There may be changes in the final product.
Marcia Lloyd is an upper-crust socialite who is not as wealthy as she used to be. Not by any means broke, but when she comes to her summer home, Sunset, in New England, she can only afford to employ a handful of servants for a house that needs a dozen or so. Still, Marcia is looking forward to a break from Depression-Era New York City–until she discovers that her brother Arthur’s ex-wife Juliette Ransom is in town. The conniving Juliette insists on staying at Sunset, being rather vague about her reasons for being on the island.
Juliette is known for her expensive tastes and fondness for playing with men’s affections, so it’s perhaps not too surprising when she goes out riding one day and never comes back. Some time later, her corpse turns up, and it’s pretty obviously it was murder. But who did it? Was it Marcia, our narrator? Arthur, who can no longer afford the ruinous alimony payments? The mysterious painter Allen Pell, who knows Juliette from somewhere but won’t say more? Any of the dozen or so men of “the summer people” Juliette partied with in the past. or perhaps a local? Or a complete stranger?
Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876-1958) was a prolific author perhaps best remembered for her mysteries; she was at one point known as “the American Agatha Christie.” This book is an example of the “Had I But Known” school of mystery writing, where a character (usually female) has incomplete information, or fails to grasp the significance of the information she has, and makes blunders that cause the mystery to be harder for the investigators to solve.
Marcia often mentions bits from further along in the story–“I did not know then who Juliette had seen in the town” and fails to get clues to the sheriff in a timely manner because she doesn’t realize they are clues. In the early part of the novel, she also doesn’t reveal what she knows about the activities of her brother Arthur as she’s trying to protect him, muddying the waters. But Marcia is scarcely the only one at fault, Arthur and several other male characters also make mistakes that tangle up the investigation to avoid scandal or pursue their own agendas. Plus the murderer is of course not telling the police anything.
The book is very much a period piece; not just because of the vanishing way of life Marcia and the “summer people” represent, but the little cultural references. For example, “Bank Night at the movies” is mentioned offhand. In 1938, Ms. Rinehart’s readers would have instantly understood; nowadays most readers will need to consult Wikipedia.
One amusing bit is that the house is wired with bells to summon servants, and these keep going off at random intervals when no one’s there, despite the electrician claiming all the wires are functioning correctly. Marcia tells us right up front that the bells have nothing to do with the mystery, and they are still unexplained at the end, even after the title of the book is finally explained. (This part may or may not be based on something that happened at Mary Roberts Rinehart’s real-life Maine summer house.)
There’s also a romantic subplot, as Marcia develops a thing for Allen Pell, and vice-versa, despite the very real possibility that he’s a multiple murderer.
Content issues: There’s a fair amount of classism, some period sexism, a couple of ethnic slurs and discussion of suicide. Marcia and most of the other characters smoke heavily and drink alcohol (overuse of alcohol leading to tragedy is a plot point.)
While not Ms. Rinehart’s best known work, this is a fun read if you are willing to put up with the characters acting rather stupidly and some twists that seem to come out of nowhere. Recommended for fans of old-fashioned mystery novels.
Magazine Review: The Blueroad Reader: Stardust and Fate edited by John Gaterud
Yes, this is yet another literary magazine; I picked up a bunch inexpensively at the book fair. This one seems to take its title from Jack Kerouac’s writing; this first issue was published in 2007.
The index is unusual for this kind of magazine. Rather than a linear index, or arranged by subject or type of literature, it’s by author. It also doesn’t distinguish between fiction and non-fiction–while some pieces sound more fictional than others, you will need to make up your own mind.
Insert my usual comments about modern poetry here. The most interesting ones for me are “Postcards to Mike” by Ed McManis, a set of verses describing a school trip to Europe, the small disasters and odd moments of traveling with students.
A couple of the pieces are very much written in 2006, and feel dated now with their jabs at the Bush administration. Deserved jabs, but still. “Letter from Iceland” by Bill Holm and “Letter from London” by Donna R. Casella are both most interesting as time capsules, I think.
Best of the prose pieces from my point of view was “O Mary, Where Art Thou?” by Suzanne Lillian Bunkers. It’s an examination of the various appearances of Mary, mother of Jesus, with an emphasis on the sites that the author has personally visited. One of the qualifications for authenticating a visit by Mary, it turns out, is conformity with Catholic doctrine. If your vision of Mary has her advocating ordination of women, you’re out of luck officially.
Overall, the theme is of road trips and journeys. Many of the pieces are sad or bittersweet; others are nostalgic. I do not know if any further volumes were published by Blueroad Press.
As with other literary magazines I’ve reviewed, it seems decent if this kind of literature is your thing.
Lance Hansen has not dreamed in seven years. A divorced Forest Service police officer on the North Shore of Lake Superior, most of his days are spent chasing illegal fishing and people camping in the wrong places. He thinks that the latter will be his main problem one June day, but when he investigates the crime scene, one camper is covered in blood, and the other horribly murdered.
This is the first book in Norwegian crime writer Vidar Sundstøl’s “Minnesota Trilogy”, translated by Tiina Nunnally. I should warn you right away that this is a true trilogy, and most of the mysteries introduced in this volume are not fully resolved in it.
Lance is a history buff, expert in the Cook County area’s people and events–he realizes this is the first murder within living memory in the area, and this allows the author to use the background material he gathered while himself living on the North Shore. During a check of his archives, Lance realizes that a disappearance a century ago might be connected to an old family story he had not realized must have taken place at the same time.
The current murder investigation is out of Lance Hansen’s hands, however. Since it took place on federal land, the FBI has been called in, as well as a guest detective from Norway, Eirik Nyland. The investigators soon learn that the Norwegian tourists were lovers, but is their homosexuality a motive for murder, or just a complication to the investigation? (This book was written before Minnesota legalized gay marriage.)
While many details of life on the North Shore ring true, and the translation works well (absent one or two word choices I would have done differently), it is really obvious that the book was written for a Scandinavian audience, as there’s a lengthy passage dedicated to explaining just where Lake Superior actually is.
The Norwegian immigrant experience and Ojibwe/Chippewa /Ashinabe lore are woven into the story’s fabric, important to Lance’s storyline if nothing else.
This book has a leisurely pace, and more impatient readers may want to give it a miss as it ambles from scene to scene and the characters spend a lot of time looking at Lake Superior and thinking. There may be some supernatural events, or Lance may simply be hallucinating–that’s one of the mysteries that is not resolved here.
The ending is disturbing to me in a way few books are, and I am very interested in finding out what happens.
Recommended to fans of Nordic crime stories, and residents of Minnesota.