MORE GREAT READS FOR MARCH, 2014
Then We Take Berlin, by John Lawton
John (known as Joe) Holderness is a
Cockney wide boy, a thief trained to the nth degree by his grandfather Abner,
who adopts him when his alcoholic mother is killed by a German bomb whilst
enjoying a lunchtime G and T at the local pub.
Joe has many things stacked against him, not least his East End origins
and the bestiality of his father, a soldier who returns infrequently from
battle to take out the horrors and evil of war on his 13 year old son. Life, especially during the London blitz
would be unendurable were it not for the home of sorts provided by his
grandfather, and Joe’s love of reading – the best form of escapism ever. (And I’m sure every dedicated reader knows
that.) He is a ‘word child’: he has a gift for languages ; he can imitate
successfully any accent; he is a boy of ferocious intelligence but devoid of
scruples – in short, he is the perfect
apprentice thief. And he is an apt
pupil.
All continues as normal in
Joe’s world until Abner has a fatal accident, and necessity dictates a change
of address; the war has come to an end
but Joe’s draft papers arrive, and he is sent to the Royal Air Force, there to
stir up so much trouble that he is constantly in ‘the glasshouse’ for insubordination
– until his many and doubtful talents come to the attention of Lt. Col.
Burne-Jones, an intelligence officer who sees in Joe his true calling: cat burglar and spy for the British Secret
Service. After a crash course in German
and Russian, he is despatched to Hamburg, ostensibly as a clerk, but also to
check on various citizens who swear they endured six years of the Nazis without
becoming one of them.
Germany: broken country of ruined cities and a
vanquished and traumatised population – the perfect breeding ground for rackets
and the black market. Joe the Chancer is
in his element. There is money to be
made, quite apart from his clandestine activities on behalf of His Majesty. He’s as happy as the proverbial pig in shite –
and then he meets Nell.
Nell, short for Christina
Helene von Raeder Burkhardt, patriotic Berliner and aristocratic German , and
at twenty already a victim of tragedy at the hands of the Nazis is trying to
atone for the terrible sins of her countrymen, witnessed first hand at Belsen. She occupies a high moral ground, ultimately
inaccessible to Joe the Rogue; he finds
her principled view of the world amusing, strange and naïve: his experience of life has taught him that
principles mean nothing – there is only money, and everyone has his price,
including himself.
Mr Lawton has given us a
gripping read, a searing account of man’s inhumanity to man, and characters
that live and breathe on the page.
Joe is the Artful Dodger
of the Second World War, endearing, charming, amoral, and bent as a
corkscrew. No good can come of his
liaison with Nell, his polar opposite, but the reader hopes until the bitter
end that the impossible will happen – this is a novel, after all! Regardless of the outcome, John Lawton has
written a page-turner par excellence:
highly recommended.
A
song for the Dying, by Stuart MacBride
As always, I found after
starting this story that there was a previous work, ‘Birthdays for the
Dead’. Lots of awful things happened in
the first book, including the murder of main protagonist Detective Ash
Henderson’s daughters and his imprisonment for the murder of his brother – a
frame up: to say that Ash has had a
rough ride is a euphemism of the first order, and at the start of book two
there is only one thing on Ash’s mind:
revenge.
As this story unfolded I
found myself glad that I had missed Book One:
the various tragedies that Detective Henderson has to live with are
almost too horrible for this craven reader to contemplate; in fact it was all I could do to stop myself
from physically recoiling at the gruesomeness of the current plot, let alone
roll around in the bloodbath of Plot One – I know, I know, it’s only a story,
but I have never been very good at reading about cruelty and sadism, especially
when it involves children: it is then
that I wish that I was a fan of Mills and Boon!
Having said that, I must
also state that I could not put this book down.
Mr MacBride has created a
nightmare landscape in the Scottish city of Oldcastle, a classic battleground
of good and evil where the goodies are sometimes worse than those who commit
the crimes. In his long experience Ash
sees the new order of PCness and criminals having – and knowing – their
‘rights’ as an unforgivable delay in the capture of bad guys, and a further
erosion of the rights of decent people – the victims. Not that he can do anything about it from
Inside, languishing on his trumped-up charges and attending futile meetings of
the Parole Board. Until …..
Until he is suddenly
released from Jail by the head of a new crime unit established to find a serial
killer of nurses whom everyone thought had disappeared eight years before. Prior to his misfortune, Ash had had some
success at investigating the killings and was known for his ability to think outside
the square. His skills are needed in the
latest investigation, for ‘The Inside Man’ has struck again: Oldcastle is in a panic.
There are more twists and
turns to this plot than a pretzel! I can
only admire Mr MacBride’s expertise in keeping all the balls in the air without
dropping a single one. I found Detective Ash (despite his obvious
bitterness and thirst for blood) to be a lot more credible than most of his
counterparts in crime fiction. He is
also completely professional, eventually finding the killer – and you’ll never
guess, EVER, who it is! – before he goes after the people who put him in
prison, which is exactly as it should be.
His reluctant team mates – he is a jailbird, after all – are carefully
drawn and individual delights, but if I have an ongoing criticism it is
this: it rains in Oldcastle ALL THE
TIME. Couldn’t the reader have enjoyed a
few rays of sunshine as relief from Mr MacBride’s Shakespearean blasted
heath? A little bit of sun never hurt
anyone; as it is, we must rely on the
warmth and relief of clever, funny dialogue and gallows humour to light up the
gloom, and that’s no bad thing; in fact
in a story like this it is vital. Highly
recommended.
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