Published November 5th 2015.
‘It feels
like the end of a long song though – men like Cafferty and Joe Stark … and me
too, come to that … we’re on our last legs. Our way of thinking seems … I don’t
know.’
‘Last century?’
‘Aye, maybe.’ (page 243)
In the last month I've read three novels from
three old hands at writing Crime Fiction: Michael Connelly, Robert Crais and
now Ian Rankin (I must say the most satisfying was Connelly's).
I'm still digesting it. Is it the best he's
ever written? No. It has a somewhat different feel to it. I can’t quite
verbalise what… The word that comes to mind is "contemporary".
As usual the plot seems a bit contrived. There
are multiple connected sub-plots, but the threads strain credulity. Although
Rankin strains mightily to make the whole thing work, by the end of the book
the whole thing sort of unravels. On top of that, there are way too many side stories
and characters fighting for the spotlight, which makes nigh on impossible to
get to know DI Rebus the way he ought to be known. I much prefer the earlier
Rebus. He's always at his best playing dark and dirty games, borderline or over
the line in terms of breaking the law himself and joining forces with the dark
side.
When I come back to a Rebus book just out, I always
ask myself: Is Rankin still doing a good job at keeping Rebus true to form? The
answer is yes and no.
Because he's no longer in the police force, maybe he’s
still not loathed and feared by colleagues and criminals alike as he used to
be.
But he still won’t give you the time of day unless
you have something he needs. Of course, now that he's retired he's all the time
in the world.
But he’s still one of the characters I love the
most in terms of Crime Fiction reading (the others are Bosch and Dalglish).
But even if he has one foot in the grave I still
rejoice he’s back, and that’s what matters.
The old malcontent
still has his hooks in me...
