Review of Havana Fever by Leonardo Padura, translated by Peter Bush (Bitter Lemon Press, 2009 [2005])

Mario Conde has long left the police force to make a living trading in antique books, but his detective instincts remain keen. In a decaying mansion occupied by a starving brother, sister and their elderly mother he discovers a magnificent library full of rare and valuable books. His intuition tells him that something is not quite right – why has the collection remained intact for so long when the family have no obvious means of support – but his own perilous financial position compels him to trade with them. Hidden between the pages of one book he finds a news cutting about Violeta del Rio, a sultry bolero singer of the 1950s with a voice and body that men instantly fell in love with, but who mysteriously disappeared just as she started to become famous. His interest piqued, Conde starts to investigate her disappearance, slowly finding himself infatuated with the singer. As he feared, by disturbing the library he has rekindled forces long dormant, and it’s not long before he is accused of murder.

Havana Fever is a slow burner of a novel, rolling along a gentle pace though tension is never far from the surface. Padura writes with colourful and expressive prose, providing sumptuous descriptions of food, music, and literature, as well as long reflective passages on Conde’s life and thoughts. Though he is clearly a skilled wordsmith and storyteller, and I know Havana Fever will appeal to those that love well crafted prose and thick description, my taste is for more action and dialogue and less description and reflection. For large parts of the novel, especially the first half, not very much happens, although the reader gains an insight into Cuban music, literature, a sample of its economy and politics, and the world and friends of Mario Conde. It is not often I read novels in parallel, but I read two novels and one history book whilst also reading this story. In short, Havana Fever is beautifully written and has an interesting plot, but it moved to slowly for this reader.

Other reviews can be found at: International Noir, Independent Crime

Review of If The Dead Rise Not by Philip Kerr (Quercus, 2009)

It’s only eighteen months since the end of the Weimar Republic and unable to stomach working for the Nazi regime homicide detective Bernie Gunther has quit the police force and taken a job as the house detective at the world famous Adlon Hotel, just a stone’s throw from the Brandenburg Gate. There are rumours of impending race laws, but the Jewish population are already suffering daily humiliation and discrimination, including being expelled from all German sporting organisations. Such anti-Semitism looks like it might draw international condemnation and pressure with the Americans in particular threatening to boycott to the 1936 Olympics, but inexplicably the American delegate visiting Berlin reports to Roosevelt that stories concerning anti-Jewish actions are overly hyped. Two American guests at the Adlon have a vested interest in the decision – the beautiful Noreen Charalambides, a Jewish journalist and aspiring novelist who wishes to expose the truth, and Max Reles, a Chicago gangster, friendly with several high-ranking Nazis, who wants to repeat the mob’s success at the Los Angeles Olympics at rigging the construction contracts. Gunther has problems of his own – he’s managed to accidentally kill a cop and he needs his Jewish grandmother to be airbrushed from history – but he’s also soon unwittingly caught between the two Americans and has two murders to solve – that of a German businessman and a Jewish boxer. The only problem is, very few people want them solved. Twenty years later, having managed to survive the war, Gunther is hiding out in Cuba on an Argentine passport when the ghosts of the case reappear, only the Chicago mob have swapped deals with the Nazis for Batista’s regime.

Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther series has a lot of things going for it. First, Kerr’s narrative is colourful and engaging, and he tells a well plotted story. Second, he expertly blends fiction with real people, places and historical events. Third, the books are politically astute and targeted, whilst at the same time being multi-layered, complex and ambiguous. Kerr is vehemently anti-Nazi, but he recognises that post Weimer Republic Germany was a cauldron of competing ideologies and that personal relationships often over-rode ideological differences. So, for example, former colleagues who have become pro-Nazi are prepared to help Gunther out as a personal favour, and vice versa, even though they know his political views. Fourth, in Bernie Gunther he has created one of the finest characters in crime fiction. Gunther is no black and white character with little depth. Rather he’s a resonant, luminous, multi-coloured, complex, compromised and flawed individual. While his heart is roughly in the right place, Gunther is morally suspect on many levels with his personal desires, head strong nature and smart mouth clouding his decision making, often placing him in situations where lying, cheating, stealing, killing, etc. is a necessary solution.

If The Dead Rise Not is a solid addition to the series, but in my view is not quite as good as some of the others in the series (which given the very high standard of the previous books is always going to be a tough challenge). The dialogue was, as ever, sharp and often caustic and very funny. The characterisation was excellent. The story was interesting. My issue was with pacing and coincidence. For me the 1934 period of the book, which was effectively the back story for 1954 period, was too long and drawn out and the 1954 period too short and underdeveloped. My sense was that the balance needed to be shifted to at least a fifty-fifty split in length, with the Cuba part of the plot extended and deepened to cover more of the politics of the time and the mob connections, and provide more details of Gunther’s life post-Argentina (following on from the last book – A Quiet Flame). The ending was also too swift. In addition, the plot hinges on a coincidence in which three characters who have not seen each other in twenty years meet in the one location (on a different continent) in the space of a few hours. I had a hard time buying that. Despite these two issues, the book was still a highly enjoyable read and I look forward to the next instalment in the series.

Review of Fifty Grand by Adrian McKinty, Serpent’s Tail (2009)

The Irish crime blogs, Crime Always Pays and Crime Scene NI, have been heaping plaudits on Adrian McKinty for a number of weeks coinciding with the publication of Fifty Grand. Often when I read a book that’s given such strong endorsements I’m left a little disappointed because as good as the book is, it doesn’t quite live up to the expectation. I approached Fifty Grand then with a little bit of caution, especially after the highly negative review in the Irish Times a couple of weeks ago. I needn’t have worried - Fifty Grand is good as the hype and then some.

The frozen lake and the black vacuum sky and the dead man pleading for the return of his remaining days.
“There must be some kind of mistake.”
No.
“You’ve got the wrong guy.”
No.
“You’re gonna pay for this.”
Viejo Companero, I’ve paid in advance. And before he can come up with anymore material I unroll a line of duct tape, cut it, and place it over his mouth.

Mercado is a Cuban detective, her brother Ricky works as a journalist for the Cuba Times. Despite their father being branded a traitor, abandoning them as children to escape to the US to start a new life, they have managed to carve out careers for themselves. Then they get news that their father has been killed in a hit and run accident in the ski resort of Fairview, Colorado, an Aspen wannabe, where Hollywood film stars and producers are setting up home in luxury ski lodges. Nobody is brought to justice for the death of the local ratcatcher. To track down her father’s killer and avenge his death Mercado is determined to head to the US regardless of the consequences for her family and colleagues if she fails to return. Faking a trip to Mexico to attend an interview for a university course, she skips over the border and makes her way to Fairview, where the service labour are illegal immigrants under the direction of Esteban, a US-born Mexican, and the local Sheriff runs the town as his own personal fiefdom determined to cash in on the town’s growing popularity. Working as a maid to the rich and famous and posing as an insurance agent Mercado has only a few days to determine who the killer is, take her revenge, and make it back to Mexico before her travel permit expires. But nothing is as simple as it first appears.

McKinty’s narrative is taut, lyrical and well crafted. Fifty Grand is all muscle and no flab. The characterization is superb, the dialogue snappy and real, the story compelling, and the prose often reads like poetry. Mercado is a well drawn character, flawed, determined, conflicted; at sea in a consumerist society of which she has no experience, using her cop instincts to get by. McKinty does an excellent job of exposing modern Cuba and the politics and corruption of small town America and Hollywood celebrity without it ever becoming a sermon. There were a few plot conveniences and coincidences, but then there nearly always are and nothing stuck out as being so improbable that it ruined the story. I was hooked from the first page, gripped by Mercado’s journey and the various twists and turns.

Did I enjoy this book – hell, yes. Criticisms – minor stuff. Do I want to read his other books – right now! (they're already on order)