Audiobook. Pan Macmillan Publishers. 2013. Read by Morven Christie.
As soon as I read the blurb for this book I had to read it. The story is set in northern Iceland in 1829. Agnes Magnúsdóttir is condemned to death for her part in the murder of two men. She is sent to the home of district office Jón Jónsson, his wife and their two daughters to await the execution of her sentence.
The family are horrified to have a convicted murderer in their house and at first the only person to attempt to converse with Agnes is a young assistant priest, Tóti, who has been assigned to help Agnes repent her crimes before her execution.
This is an incredibly beautiful and dark story written in gorgeous prose. Australian author, Hannah Kent writes with haunting clarity of a land iced over with harsh winters and rich with literary sagas. I’m so glad I decided to listen to the audiobook as I cannot imagine a better narrator for this book than Morven Christie. Her voice is as cool and soothing as a glass of water and matches these bleak yet lovely lines perfectly.
“Now comes the darkening sky and a cold wind that passes right through you, as though you are not there, it passes through you as though it does not care whether you are alive or dead, for you will be gone and the wind will still be there…”
The story unfolds in layers as we see the same crime from a thousand different angles. We hear interpretations, guesses, pieces from the trial, gossip and we read the official letters as the execution approaches but what actually happened on the night Agnes committed a brutal murder? We start to see she is not only being punished for her crime but also for being a woman who is too clever and doesn’t care to hide it.
I have reviewed books on here that show the dark side of human nature. Well this shows the ugly side of the human psyche. What at first seems romantic, shows itself to be tragic and sordid. What seems villainous is small mindedness, greed and violence for the sake of violence. The questions Christie leaves us asking is; what is the difference between the truth and the perceived truth and how much can we really know another person?
“It’s more difficult to create the problem than to solve it. All the person trying to solve the problem has to do is always respect the problem’s creator.”
Is it a coincidence that the only other Japanese crime novel I read also involved bento box production and a woman strangling her husband? The Devotion of Suspect X opens with single mother Yasuko Hanaoka strangling her ex-husband after a period of stalking, sponging off and threatening her teenage daughter Misato who finally cracks and hits her stepfather over the head with a vase. Faced with the problem of a dead body they are overheard by their next door neighbour, a maths teacher named Ishigami, who proceeds to come conveniently to their rescue.
There is no give away of the plot by saying this. The murder happens in the books opening. The majority of the plot is dedicated to the cat and mouse game Ishigami plays with the police, the genius consultant they bring in and the strength of Ishigami’s devotion to Yasuko when an old flame re-enters her life.
Despite committing the murder Yasuka and Misato are not really the protagonists of this story. They only seem to react to the situations around them. It is the male characters doing the scheming, the investigating and the brainwork. I was a bit disappointed because the opening led me to believe it would be the two women at the centre of the plot
This book sold over 2 million copies in Japan and is considered Higashino’s best work. While I enjoyed the read I wasn’t exactly on the edge of my seat as the detectives circled around the evidence for nearly the entire book. It wasn’t like the speeding car falling down hill in Out where the situation spirals out of control and in fact I found the novel dragged quite a bit. It is unfortunate for this book that I read Natsuo Karino’s work first and the premise was so similar. However Karino created a work of devastation you can’t look away from and imprints the horror on your mind. The difference between the two crime novels is like the snow outside to the snow inside a snow globe.
The concept of this book was too interesting for me to pass up. The protagonist, 17 year old Jazz, is the son of the most infamous serial killer in modern America. His father was arrested four years ago and put away with multiple life sentences but the shadow of him still hangs over Jazz and the town. And then when a mutilated body turns up, Jazz realises there’s another serial killer on the loose.
Jazz is a satisfyingly interesting character. He is charming, charismatic and manipulative and unfortunately for him so was his dad. I like the way Lyga didn’t pull any punches with Jazz’s upbringing. He knows far too much about murder from the criminals’ point of view and is both arrogant about his knowledge and worried he’ll start killing people too. The two people keeping him connected to “normality” are and his girlfriend Connie and his best friend Howie, a haemophilic.
“You were right,” he told Howie.
“Um I was?”
“Score for me. Beauty. But what was I right about?”
“She’s a she. Not an it. She’s always been a she.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“Don’t ever let me call her an it again,” Jazz told him. “Actually, don’t ever let me call anyone an it, ok?”
Despite being an expert I like the fact that Jazz does not always reach the conclusion faster than the police force, who understandably aren’t too keen on having a teenager “helping” them with the investigation whoever his dad may be. I also liked the relationship between him and the detective who finally caught his dad.
I raced through this book in under two days. It was very readable and, however strange to say about a serial killer book, fun to read. As usual I ended up suspecting everyone to be the serial killer and it ended up being someone I never even thought of. This is the first in a planned trilogy.
Here are my summer reads for this last stretch of August. There’s some crime, historical fiction and a biography
As soon as I had finished this book I wanted to go back to the beginning and read it all over again.
The story starts with a murder of a rather sleazy family man, Anwar Sadat, but we already know who has committed it- what is important is why. The murderer is a sweet young man called Margio who within him conceals a supernatural female white tiger. What I loved most about this book was not only the sensual imagery of papaya, prayer and cigarette smoke but also the drama and the suspense. Kurniawan holds the reader in his grip until the very end with characters that crackle with romance and violence.
Despite the myth of the white tiger this isn’t exactly magical realism but a layered and moving story deeply embedded in its culture. We don’t go forward in time from the murder, we go back. Back to Margio’s family, his victim’s family and the way they are closely knitted together. Kurniawan’s writing can be striking and cinematic with the immediateness of the crime genre but he can also give us clouds of atmosphere that portray the steamy tense landscape of Indonesia with the memory of Japanese occupation and structure of Islamic tradition. Overall I loved his ability to take my breath away with a single scene.
His feet brought him to the cell. He stood by the door, watching Margio shiver on the mattress, hoping that the secret would be revealed with a simple question. But bitterness and pity weighed on him, preventing him from speaking and as he struggled Margio turned to him and understood his unspoken question.
“It wasn’t me, “he said calmly and without guilt. “There is a tiger inside my body.”
I read through this quickly- it’s as gripping and page turning as a murder mystery and yet there are layers underneath that would make for satisfying second reading. The way Kurniawan portrays the million tiny grievances that build up into a storm reflects the violent history of his country and the way a storm can break over anything in its path in misdirected rage. By the end of the tale we understand why Margio did what he did and we can appreciate the tragedy and randomness of it.
I don’t think I’ll ever find a crime author I love as much as Agatha Christie. I had so much fun reading this book. Not only was the mystery cleverly plotted out in Christie’s usual flair but there was a great deal of humour and unexpected twists.
The book begins at a country house party where one of the guests, Gerry Wade, known for oversleeping and missing breakfast, unexpectedly dies in his room. The other guests had arranged a practical joke to wake him up by placing eight alarm clocks in his room. When he is found dead seven clocks are found on the mantelpiece and the strange clue ends up leading back to a secret society in London. His friend Ronny Devereux has only just started to investigate when he is shot and found dying by the heroine Bundle- real name Lady Eileen Brent. She joins forces with Gerry’s friend Jimmy Thesiger, and two others mixed up in the house party but all of them have their own agendas and no one is telling the absolute truth.
The book was extremely funny as all Agatha books are but there was also the unintentionally hilarious. Bundle spends a lot of time while stuck in a wardrobe spying on a dangerous international secret society obsessing over the one woman in the group and how beautiful her back is. I was beginning to hope the book would spiral in an unexpected direction especially as the female gaze comes out again later at another woman but alas it was not to be.
What I loved most about Bundle is that despite being in the dark without the police’s resources she is very determined to sleuth in dangerous situations more than her male companions and doesn’t really pay attention to anything they tell her to do.
Bundle Brent was a resourceful girl- she was also a girl of imagination. She had foreseen that Bill, if not Jimmy, would make objections to her participation in the possible dangers of the night. It was not Bundle’s idea to waste time in argument. She had made her own plans and made her own arrangements.
While the boys set to watch the house she climbs outside in the middle of the night to make her own investigation, noting that they don’t think far enough outside the box.
I didn’t guess who the murderer was at all and ended up suspecting practically everyone at some point as the author intended. The espionage element of the plot was never taken very seriously, actually a lot of the story wasn’t taken very seriously and that’s what made the book so good. Christie makes a lot of satirical asides at the upper class and noveau rich and Bundle’s interactions with her father were brilliant.
My only criticism of the plot was that the reveal of the murderer and reasons behind it were rushed in at the end. I had to read it over twice and it ended a little too abruptly for me. Still I highly recommend this book and will definitely be reading The Secret of Chimneys. I didn’t realise until half way through that this was a loose sequel of a previous book but it doesn’t really matter and can be enjoyed as a stand alone novel.
This is one of the crime books I got for Christmas. I love the vintage covers that Harper Collins have brought back and they’ve even included the original blurbs which sound very strange by today’s standards/
This is the first Japanese crime novel I’ve read and if they’re all as good as this I may become addicted. There’s a great deal of atmosphere, tension and clever characterisation which are all things I love in a book. The plot centres around four women who work in the graveyard shift in a bento box factory in the suburbs of Tokyo. One of the women finally cracks and brutally strangles her philandering husband with her belt and then enlists the three other women to help hide the body. The situation gets more desperate when the police discover the body and the owner of a gambling club is accused of the murder leading him to search for the real culprits.
The story opens with the bleak drudgery of the factory work and captures perfectly the grimness of being in a dead end job that pretty much all of us can relate to. I definitely felt instant empathy with the character Masako from the start as she smoked in the factory car park. Kirino flawlessly captures the feeling when a day is so dismal that a cigarette is the only highlight you can look forward to.
We begin with the point of view of Masako and move through the other characters throughout the book. There was Masako herself, Yayoi the weak willed beautiful woman married to a gambler, Yoshie whose life revolves around her bedridden mother in law and sullen daughter and Kuniko a sly girl obsessed with designer brands and heavily in debt. We also spread to beyond the factory to the families of the four women, a beautiful Chinese hostess in a gambling club and a slick money lender. All the characters had a touchable human element, even Kuniko who I started out despising but ended pitying for the shallowness of her life.
The atmosphere of this novel is perfect and I saw every scene in my mind in shades of monochrome like film noir. Despite the gore and grimness of the plot this book is very enjoyable and even strangely humorous in a black deadpan way. The language is stark and plain with each word crafted carefully into place with random splashes of poetic imagery like when a money lender describing Kuniko as a girl you could see through like a jellyfish. Despite being a clever and thickly plotted novel the story is highly readable and very addictive. I read through it in two days desperate to see what happened next as the four women dug themselves into a darker and darker hole.
“You know,” she murmured, “we’re all heading straight to hell.”
“Yes,” said Masako, giving her a bleak look. “It’s like riding downhill with no brakes.”
“You mean, there’s no way to stop?”
“No, you stop all right – when you crash.”
I found Masako to be the biggest mystery in this book in what motivates her and what she feels but strangely she is the character I feel most comfortable reading about. I won’t say like because I’m still not quite sure if I actually like any of these characters but I certainly loved reading about them. Kirino balances character driven plot with layers of social and political commentary of ordinary life in Japan for women and the dangers of moneylenders and heavy debt. Money and the need of it drives half the evil in this book and pushes the characters beyond their moral compasses.