Category Archives: Sara Paretsky

Behind You Another Runner is Born*

RunningDo you go jogging or running? If you do, then you know that running can be a terrific form of exercise. Studies suggest that running also helps lower stress levels and builds cardiovascular strength. And it’s not expensive to take up running, since there’s no need to join a club or purchase equipment. All you need is a pair of trainers and comfortable clothes like track pants or shorts. What’s more, you can run at nearly any time of day. You’re really only limited by the weather. It may not be for everyone, but it’s not hard to see why running has become such a popular form of exercise in the last decades.

It’s little wonder really that we see running pop up so often in crime fiction. Not only is it common in real life, but it’s also a very handy tool for authors who want characters to find bodies (I’m sure you could think of lots more examples than I could where that happens!). Authors can also use running to describe a particular setting (i.e. readers follow along as the character runs). Space only permits a few examples here, but I’m sure they’ll suffice to show what I mean.

There’s an interesting jogging scene in Ian Rankin’s The Black Book. In one plot thread of that novel, Inspector Rebus is working to bring down a moneylender associated with Edinburgh crime boss ‘Big Ger’ Cafferty. Fans of this series will know that Rebus and Cafferty have an unusual sort of relationship. On the one hand, they are on opposite sides of the law, and neither trusts or really likes the other. At the same time, they sometimes find they have common enemies or a common goal. And they have learned to respect each other. At one point, Rebus and Cafferty go for a jog together. It’s an effective way to have a conversation without being overheard. During that run, Cafferty and Rebus share information, and it’s interesting to see how Rankin uses that scene to build tension.

Fans of Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone will know that she is fond of running along the beach near her home in fictional Santa Teresa. She stays in shape that way and it gives her the opportunity to de-stress. Here’s how she puts it in D is For Deadbeat:
 

‘Sometimes I awaken uncomfortably aware of a low-level dread humming in my gut. Running is the only relief I can find short of drink and drugs, which at 6:00 a.m. don’t appeal.’
 

Millhone doesn’t pretend to be a health fanatic. Fans will know, for instance, that she’s certainly not overly concerned about her diet. For her, running helps with stress relief and is a form of self-discipline.

Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshawski is also a runner. She likes to keep in shape, and running clears her head. It also gives her the chance to give her dogs exercise. Here’s what Warshawski says about running in Burn Marks:
 

‘I know that, however unappetizing it seems, running is the best antidote for a thick head. Anyway, a big dog like Peppy depends on running for her mental health.’
 

So does Warshawski, although she admits she often doesn’t physically feel like running.

In Karen Fossum’s Don’t Look Back, the small Norwegian village of Granittveien is badly shaken when the body of fifteen-year-old Annie Holland is found by a local tarn. Oslo Inspector Konrad Sejer and his assistant Jacob Skarre are called to the scene and begin the investigation. On the surface of it, it seems that Annie was well-liked and successful. She was an avid runner, logging in twenty miles a week. Until recently she’d played handball too. She had a boyfriend with whom she had no obvious problems, and wasn’t mixed up in drugs or other dangers. So at first there doesn’t seem a real motive for her murder. But as Sejer and Skarre dig deeper, they discover that more is going on in the village than it seems. As it turns out, Annie wasn’t killed during a run. But her love of running was an important part of her character.

And then there’s Kate Rhodes’ Crossbones Yard. This novel introduces readers to psychologist Alice Quentin. For reasons having to do with her childhood, Quentin tends towards claustrophobia. In fact, she has a special dislike of elevators/lifts. That’s one reason for which she finds a great deal of release in running:
 

‘At seven I changed into my running gear and headed for the best part of the day. Soon I was running down the stairs so fast that it felt like flight…[later] I made my way home at a slow trot, enjoying the rush of endorphins – nature’s reward for nearly killing yourself.’
 

One evening, she’s taking a long run when she discovers a recently-murdered young woman at Crossbones Yard, a former graveyard for prostitutes. It turns out that this murder may be connected to another, earlier series of murders. The only problem with that theory is that the person responsible for those earlier murders is in prison. Is there a ‘copycat’ at work? Or is the criminal somehow engineering more murders? Perhaps there’s even another explanation…

Lots of runners swear by the ‘runner’s high’ that can come from the release of endorphins. And running can be very good for one’s health, not to mention one’s physical condition. Some people even say that going for a run with a friend or partner is a good social activity too. With all of that going for it, it’s little wonder that a lot of crime-fictional characters run. I’ve just given a very few examples. Over to you.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Sheila Ferguson and Giorgio Moroder’s The Runner.

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Filed under Ian Rankin, Karin Fossum, Kate Rhodes, Sara Paretsky, Sue Grafton

Are the Liberators Here?*

LiberationAs I write this, it’s the 70th anniversary of the liberation of the notorious concentration camp at Auschwitz. Until that time, many people either did not know about, or chose not to know about, what was going on in camps such as Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen and Dachau. But the films and photographs taken when the camps were liberated made it impossible to ignore the Holocaust.

Millions of people were killed in those camps. But some survived and, after World War II ended, put their lives together as best they could. No-one could get through such an experience unscathed, but there are many people (I’ve met some personally) who did create lives for themselves when it was all over. We’ve heard and read their stories in real life, and they’re written into crime fiction too. Here are just a few examples.

In Nicolas Freeling’s Double Barrel, Amsterdam police detective Piet Van der Valk and his wife Arlette travel to the small town of Zwinderen to help solve a troubling case. Several people in the town have been getting vicious anonymous letters accusing them of all sorts of immorality. The matter is so serious that two people have committed suicide and one has had a mental breakdown. The local police haven’t been able to make much progress, because the town’s residents are very close-mouthed. So it’s hoped that Van der Valk will be more successful. He and Arlette settle into the town and he begins to ask questions. The evidence seems to point to one person, M. Besançon, as the guilty party. Not much is actually known about Besançon, really. Reports are that he’s a French Jew, a Holocaust survivor, who settled in Zwinderen after the war. He keeps himself to himself, as the saying goes, and even has a high-walled garden to protect his privacy. Although it’s soon shown that he didn’t write the letters, it’s interesting to see how the town regards him.

In this novel, we see that one challenge survivors have faced is trying to make a life among people who don’t really understand their struggles. It’s not so much that others have no sympathy, but in some cases, there are a lot of cultural gaps that need to be bridged. What’s more, for very good reasons, surviving a trauma such as the Holocaust leaves a person with little if any sense of trust. So it’s very hard to become an intrinsic part of a new community.

And some new communities weren’t particularly welcoming to survivors. We see that, for instance, in Ernesto Mallo’s Needle in a Haystack. In that novel, which takes place in late-1970’s Buenos Aires, we are introduced to police detective Venancio ‘Perro’ Lescano. Early one morning, he is called to a riverbank where two bodies have been ‘dumped.’ They bear all the hallmarks of an Army killing, and Lescano knows better than to question them too much. At that time, the Army is in control of the country, and anyone who goes up against them risks everything. But then Lescano finds a third body. This one doesn’t look like a military-style execution, and he begins to ask questions. As it turns out, the victim is Elías Biterman, a Holocaust survivor who made his way to Buenos Aires. He became a successful moneylender and therefore, had contact with a lot of people, including some important people. So there are all sorts of possibilities for suspects. One of the things that is made clear in the novel is the anti-Semitism in Buenos Aires. In fact, more than one person wonders why Lescano would care at all about the death of ‘just another Jew.’

Even when they settled in communities that welcomed them warmly , Holocaust survivors have faced plenty of other challenges. For one thing, the Holocaust experience left permanent mental and emotional scars. We see that for instance in Sara Paretsky’s Dr. Charlotte ‘Lotty’ Herschel, who is a close friend of Paretsky’s PI sleuth V.I. Warshawski. As we learn in Total Recall, Herschel’s family escaped Austria just ahead of the Nazis, moved to London and then on to Chicago. The scars from that trauma are still there, so when an enigmatic stranger named Paul Rabudka comes to town claiming to be looking for Holocaust survivors, Herschel is emotionally devastated. She has made a good life for herself as a skilled doctor, and doesn’t want to be reminded of that time. So she asks Warshawski to find out whether Rabudka is who he says he is. The trail leads to a case of insurance fraud that Warshawski is already investigating.

Martin Walker’s Bruno, Chief of Police shows another sort of Holocaust survival. In that novel, we are introduced to Benoît ‘Bruno’ Courrèges, Chief of Police for the small French town of St. Denis. When Hamid Mustafa al-Bakr is murdered and his body found in his shack, the investigation touches everyone, since his son, his grandson and his grandson’s wife have roots in the town. Two of the characters we meet in this novel are Bachelot, the local shoemaker, and Jean-Pierre, who runs the local bicycle shop. As we get to know the town, we learn that these men were involved in the French Resistance, although they were in rival groups and have hated each other because of that ever since. Part of the novel tells their stories and we see how devastating the Nazi occupation of France really was. Neither man escaped unscathed; they have deep scars and long memories. And yet, they’ve gotten on with life.

There are fictional sleuths, too, who survived the Holocaust. For instance there are David Del Bourgo’s Simon Wolfe of the San Francisco Police, and Peter Leonard’s Harry Levin, who runs a Detroit scrap metal business. And fans of Geoffrey McGeachin’s Charlie Berlin will know that he is married to Rebecca Green, whose parents escaped from Stuttgart just in time to avoid being sent to concentration camps. Berlin himself saw more than his share of life in concentration camps, and although he’s not Jewish, you could certainly argue that he’s had to survive the experience.

The Holocaust changed everything on a lot of levels. And on some of those levels, the real work of survival didn’t end when the camps were liberated. This post is dedicated to those who had the courage to start over after the end of the war – and to the memories of those who never got that chance.

ps. For a powerful novel (not crime fiction) that tells the story of the camps and of the work that lay ahead when they were liberated, may I recommend Erich Maria Remarque’s Spark of Life.
 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Rush’s Red Sector A. Did you know that Rush’s frontman Geddy Lee is the son of concentration camp survivors?

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Filed under David Del Bourgo, Ernesto Mallo, Geoffrey McGeachin, Martin Walker, Nicolas Freeling, Peter Leonard, Sara Paretsky

When Sleuths Buy Gifts ;-)

When Sleuths Buy GIftsHave you ever taken part in a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange? Sometimes it’s called a ‘Kris Kringle,’ and sometimes a ‘Pollyanna.’ There are other names for it too. Whatever you call it, the way it generally works is that a group of people put their names into a hat, a box or some such thing. Each one draws the name of someone else and gets a gift for that person.

It sounds like a wonderful idea, doesn’t it? But it doesn’t always work out as planned. Don’t believe me? Let’s see what happens….
 

When Fictional Sleuths are ‘Secret Santas.’
 

I. Hercule Poirot (Agatha Christie)

Hastings: Whose name did you draw, Poirot?
Poirot: I have drawn…(Glances down at the slip of paper) Mlle. Kinsey Millhone (Sue Grafton).
Hastings: Any idea what you’ll get for her?
Poirot: I think, mon ami, that I will have Georges make an appointment for her at a dressmaker’s shop. Les femmes, they all love beautiful dresses, do they not?
Hastings: Er…well…I suppose so.
 

II. Rebecka Martinsson (Åsa Larsson)

(Having a coffee with Inspector Anna-Maria Mella)
Rebecka: So I got talked into this Secret Santa business.
Anna-Maria: Well, it might be fun. Whose name did you get?
Rebecka: Her name’s Corinna Chapman (Kerry Greenwood).
Anna-Maria: So what will you buy?
Rebecka: At this time of year? A heavy parka. If I rush it, she’ll get it before Christmas too. Hmm…. I don’t know her size. Well, I’ll just get her an average-sized coat – one I might wear. That ought to be safe. Can’t miss!
 

III. John Rebus (Ian Rankin)

Rebus: Shiv, you doing this Secret Santa thing?
Siobhan Clarke: Yeah, sure. You?
Rebus: Don’t have much choice, I don’t think.
Clarke: Who’d you get?
Rebus: His name’s Inspector Morse (Colin Dexter).
Clarke: Ah, fellow copper. What are you getting him?
Rebus: Everyone loves music, right? Think I’ll get him tickets to a Rolling Stones concert.
Clarke: (Looks down at her cup of tea) Maybe you ought to find out what kind of music he likes first?
Rebus: Who doesn’t love the Stones?
 

IV. V.I. ‘Vic’ Warshawski (Sara Paretsky)

(Having a glass of wine with Lotty Herschel)
Vic: So I’ve been thinking about this whole Secret Santa thing.
Lotty: That’s good. It’s coming up soon.
Vic: I know, and I think I have just the thing. I got this guy Nero Wolfe (Rex Stout). He’s never been to Chicago. So I’m going to take him bar-hopping! Really show him a Jack Daniels night. Then we’ll go to the Maxwell Street Market for some kielbasa. Ha! I might even get him a Cubs hat! What do you think?
Lotty: If you really think he’d like it.
Vic: Can’t go wrong!
 

V. Armand Gamache (Louise Penny)

(Having breakfast with his wife Reine-Marie)
Reine-Marie: So, have you decided what to do about this Secret Santa name draw?
Armand: Actually I think I have. I drew Lisbeth Salander’s name (Stieg Larsson). She’s from Stockholm, so I thought it would be nice to give her a real Québec welcome, with Christmas right here in Three Pines.
Reine-Marie: What a lovely idea! I’m sure she’d love a small-town holiday after living in the city. We can ask them to give her a room at the B&B, we’ll make sure she meets everyone, and she can come to Midnight Mass with us.
Armand: Good thinking. No-one does gourmet bistro better than Olivier and Gabri. She’ll love it!
 

VI. Nick and Nora Charles (Dashiell Hammett)

Nora: I’ve got it, Nick!
Nick: Got what?
Nora: The perfect idea for the Secret Santa draw, of course.
Nick: Oh, that. Who’d we get anyway?
Nora: His name’s Walt Longmire (Craig Johnson). He’s from Wyoming.
Nick: So what’s your brilliant idea?
Nora: Well, we’re going to be in New York for the next couple of months. Why not get him the best Broadway tickets we can? We’ll put him up at the Plaza for a few days.
Nick: Sounds great! I’ll bet he’s dying to get out of whatever one-horse town he lives in.

Perhaps after all it’d be just as well for these sleuths to stick to solving crime… ;-)

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Åsa Larsson, Colin Dexter, Craig Johnson, Dashiell Hammett, Ian Rankin, Kerry Greenwood, Louise Penny, Rex Stout, Sara Paretsky, Stieg Larsson, Sue Grafton

I’m Gonna Let it Shine*

This Little Light of MineThere are people who try to do good, sometimes against very difficult odds. They know they’re taking real risks at times to do what most of us would agree is the right thing, but they do it anyway. Certainly those people exist in real life, and the world is better because of them. But they also exist in crime fiction. The trouble with writing such characters is that if they seem too perfect, it’s hard to accept them as authentic. So it’s important that they be realistic. But when they’re well-drawn, those characters give us hope. They add to a story or series too.

You’ll notice that I’m not going to mention sleuths or other protagonists who are like that. They’re out there of course, but the examples in this post will be characters who aren’t protagonists.

Admittedly that line between protagonist and ‘not the protagonist’ can be a little blurry at times. For example, in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, we meet attorney Atticus Finch. He lives and works in the small town of Maycomb, Alabama at a time when racism was both institutionalised and rigidly enforced. When Tom Robinson, who is Black, is accused of raping Mayella Ewell, who is White, there’s a lot of pressure to assume that he’s guilty and turn to ‘vigilante justice.’ But Finch is unwilling to do that. For one thing, he’s not entirely certain that Robinson is guilty. For another, even if he is, Robinson deserves a fair trial, like every other citizen. So Finch takes the case despite the fact that the town will likely turn against him. He knows that his choice to defend Robinson may have terrible consequences, but he also knows that it’s the right thing to do. So he goes ahead with his preparations, and in the end, he finds out the truth about the Robinson/Ewell case.

One of the recurring characters in Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman series is Sister Mary. Among her other projects, she is in charge of the Soup Run, a mobile soup kitchen that delivers food, non-alcoholic drinks, blankets, clothes and medicine to Melbourne’s street people. She is a tireless advocate for those who’ve been forgotten or at least not served by the system, and she persuades, cajoles and bullies for donations, for volunteers and for the necessary legal permits to undertake her work. She’s got a strong enough personality that no-one dares to disobey her if I can put it that way. Sister Mary is down-to-earth and practical. She’s neither smug nor self-righteous, and she doesn’t expect that anyone will subscribe to her religious beliefs. That doesn’t matter to her as much as does helping those in need in Melbourne, and everyone respects her for what she accomplishes.

Sara Paretsky’s Dr. Charlotte ‘Lotty’ Herschel is another example of those who are forces for good despite the odds. She and her family escaped the Nazis and she ended up in the US. Since then she’s moved to Chicago and is now the close friend of Paretsky’s sleuth V.I. Warshawski. Herschel works with those who are least well served by the medical care system and is always willing to lend her medical expertise where it’s needed, whether or not the patient can pay.  She’s an advocate for children’s health, especially those children from low socioeconomic groups. She has a strong personality, but she’s not self-important about what she does. Lotty Herschel does what needs to be done, as she sees it.

Ernesto Mallo’s Needle in a Haystack takes place in 1979 Argentina, at a time when the government was controlled by a military junta. Anyone suspected of disagreeing with the government is liable to ‘disappear,’ and very little attention is paid to these abuses of power. Against this backdrop, Buenos Aires police officer Venancio ‘Perro’ Lescano gets a new case. He’s called out one morning to a riverbank where there are reports of two bodies left there overnight. The bodies bear the hallmarks of an Army ‘hit,’ and Lescano is well aware of the consequences if he questions those murders. But to his surprise there is also a third body. This one doesn’t have the same hallmarks and it’s soon clear that someone is using ‘disappearances’ to cover up a murder. The victim is successful pawnbroker and moneylender Elías Biterman and Lescano begins to investigate to find out who the killer is. There is a great deal of pressure on Lescano to ‘rubber stamp’ the case and leave it alone, but he’s unwilling to do that. In the end, he does find out the truth. And there are people who risk terrible consequences to do the right thing and help him. One is forensic expert Dr. Fuseli. He provides Lescano very helpful and important information about the murder at great risk to himself.

And then there’s Deon Meyer’s Blood Safari. Emma la Roux hires professional bodyguard Martin Lemmer to accompany her on a trip from Cape Town to the Lowveld to find out what happened to her brother Jacobus. Then a member of the South African Army’s Nature and Environmental Conservation Unit, he disappeared twenty years earlier after a skirmish with poachers at Kruger National Park. Everyone thought he was killed in that incident, but Emma has good reason to believe he may still be alive. If that’s true, she wants to know where he’s been and what he’s been doing. Lemmer takes the job and goes with Emma to the Lowveld, where they start asking questions. Those questions stir up matters that some very nasty and powerful people would rather not discuss, so both Lemmer and Emma find themselves in terrible danger. In the end though, Lemmer discovers what really happened to Jacobus le Roux. One of the people who figures in that true story is Vincent ‘Pego’ Mashego, who worked with Jacobus and who knows what happened when he disappeared. It turns out that Pego took incredible risks to do the right thing, and has demonstrated quite a lot of courage.

In Cath Staincliffe’s Split Second, we meet Jason Barnes, a teenager who happens to be riding a bus when he observes a terrible incident of bullying. Three other teenagers have boarded the same bus and are harassing fellow passenger Luke Murray. Despite the danger to him, Jason intervenes and the bullying stops for the moment. Then Luke gets off the bus and so do his harassers. So does Jason. The bullying starts again and Jason steps in once more to stop it. This starts the fight anew and it lasts all the way to Jason’s yard, where Luke is gravely wounded and Jason fatally stabbed. One of the questions his parents have to wrestle with is why he stepped in instead of protecting his own life. At the same time, they respect the fact that he did the right thing in a situation where others didn’t.

People who take truly grave risks to do good remind the rest of us of what is possible. When those characters are written as human beings, they can add much to a story. I’ve only had space here to mention a few; I’m sure you can think of lots more. Which do you like best?

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Henry Dixon Loes’ This Little Light of Mine.

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Filed under Cath Staincliffe, Deon Meyer, Ernesto Mallo, Harper Lee, Kerry Greenwood, Sara Paretsky

Picking Up the Pieces of My Sweet Shattered Dream*

Post-WarWorld War II ended in 1945. But the world was not magically made right again after the war. There were many scattered pieces, if I may put it that way, to be picked up, and millions of shattered lives to be put back together. And that’s to say nothing of the myriad unanswered questions and difficult challenges the war left behind. Let’s take a quick look today at the way that uncertain time is addressed in crime fiction. As you can imagine, I’ve only space to mention a few examples here. I’m sure you’ll be able to fill in the gaps far better than I could anyway.

Agatha Christie’s Taken at the Flood (AKA There is a Tide) was published in 1948. In it, Lynn Marchmont has recently been demobbed from wartime service in the Wrens. She comes home to the village of Warmsley Vale to pick up her life and instead, gets mixed up in a case of murder. Her family has always depended on patriarch Gordon Cloade for financial support but that all changes when Cloade marries Rosaleen Underhay, a widow he’s met on a ship. Tragically, Cloade is killed in a bomb blast before he can change his will so at his death, Rosaleen is set to inherit everything. Then a stranger comes to Warmsley Vale with possible information that Rosaleen’s first husband is actually still alive. If so, she can’t inherit Cloade’s fortune. When two different members of the Cloade family visit Hercule Poirot, asking for his help in the case, he takes an interest. Then, the stranger is suddenly killed; now Poirot gets involved in the murder investigation. Throughout the novel, we see the financial havoc the war has wrought. People are scraping by at best and some are not even doing that well. We also see how difficult the war has been on those who were a part of it. Lynn Marchmont for instance has had to make a sudden and very abrupt change from the danger and excitement of war to the quiet and impoverished life Warmsley Vale offers. It’s a very difficult transition, even for those who didn’t participate in combat. For those who did, it’s even more challenging.

Just ask Charlie Berlin, the Melbourne cop we meet in Geoffrey McGeachin’s The Diggers Rest Hotel, which takes place in 1947. Berlin’s recently back from service in Europe, where he also spent some time in a POW camp. Although he’s not the stereotypical demon-haunted, alcoholic detective, he does have what would later be called PTSD. He deals with nightmares and terrible memories. Berlin is seconded to Wodonga to help the local police track down a motorcycle gang that’s been responsible for a series of robberies. Since the latest incident has resulted in severe injuries, the police and the public are eager to see the gang stopped. Berlin’s just starting to find some answers when the body of sixteen-year-old Jenny Lee is found in an alley. At first it’s thought that her death is related to the robberies. It’s not though, and soon Berlin has two cases on his hands. Along with the actual investigation, we get a look in this novel at the lingering resentment against people who’ve been The Enemy for years. That enmity didn’t just vanish when the war ended and McGeachin addresses that.

McGeachin also touches on life for Jews who left Germany either just before the war or as a result of being displaced by the war. Jews were not warmly welcomed everywhere, even by people who abhorred the Holocaust. We also see that theme in Sara Paretsky’s Total Recall. In that novel, Dr. Charlotte ‘Lotty’ Herschel asks her friend Chicago PI V.I. Warshawski to do a personal sort of investigation. Herschel has recently heard from Paul Rabudka, who claims to be a Holocaust survivor looking for as many members of his family as he can find. Herschel’s own family escaped Austria just ahead of the Nazis and ended up in the United States, but it was a harrowing journey and Herschel wants to forget as much of it as she can. Still, she doesn’t want to ignore Rabudka’s contact. Warshawski agrees to investigate and finds some very dark secrets buried in the past.

Åsa Larsson’s Until Thy Wrath Be Past highlights the enmity that lingered between Swedes who collaborated with the Nazis and those who resisted them. In that novel, two young people, Wilma Persson  and Simon Kyrö, go on a diving exploration of a World-War II-era plane that went down in Lake Vittangijärvi. Someone traps the young people under the ice, killing both of them. Several months later Wilma’s body surfaces and police inspectors Anna-Maria Mella and Sven-Erik Stålnacke investigate the murders. One of the important threads running through this case is the reality that the end of World War II did not erase the hatreds that had developed because of it. We also see this theme in Jo Nesbø’s The Redbreast.

One of the many other challenges that arose after World War II was the status of people whose roles had changed because of the war. For instance, millions of women worked in factories to support the war effort. When the war ended, many were not so eager to return to the proverbial kitchen. Women began to see other roles for themselves. We see that in the character of Rebecca Green, whom we meet in The Digger’s Rest Hotel (See above). She’s a journalist/photographer for the Argus, and wants very much to make her way in what is still a man’s world. She isn’t interested at the moment in the ‘hearth and home’ role assigned to women. In her determination to be taken seriously as a professional, we see the challenge that women faced in a post-war world that wasn’t sure how to see them.

The end of the war meant that a lot of people faced job challenges. Factories that had geared up for the war effort had to either close or change their focus. Soldiers came home and needed jobs. All of this had profound effects on work life. We see this in Walter Mosley’s Devil in a Blue Dress, the first of his Ezekial ‘Easy’ Rawlins novels. Rawlins has recently lost his job working in a warplane factory. Since he is African-American there are few job opportunities open to him, but he has the same financial obligations as anyone else. This motivates him to accept the offer when DeWitt Albright hires him as an unofficial private investigator. Albright is looking for Daphne Monet, who’s been known to frequent bars in the Black community. The idea is that since Rawlins knows Watts (Los Angeles) very well, he’ll know where to look for her. This turns out to be much more complicated and dangerous a case than a simple search for a missing woman, and it shows how an entire community was affected by the financial upheavals of the war.

There was also the serious question of war criminals. In Stuart Neville’s Ratlines, Gordon Ferris’ Glasgow novels featuring Douglas Brodie, and Philip Kerr’s more recent novels featuring Bernie Gunther, we get a look at the way Nazi criminals escaped (or tried to escape) after the war. We also learn the stories of those who risked their lives to find them. There are other novels too, some that fall into the category of crime fiction and some that are more espionage thrillers, in which the protagonist goes after Nazi criminals and those who support them.

And Ferdinand von Schirach’s The Collini Case explores the legal ramifications of German law that related to war criminals. Fabrizio Collini, who emigrated to Germany decades ago, is arrested for murder in the shooting death of Jean-Baptiste Meyer. Caspar Leinen is ‘on duty’ as a legal aid and is assigned to represent Collini. It seems like a very solid case, as Collini offers no alibi and says nothing to defend himself. In fact, he says nearly nothing at all. But Leinen wants to do his best by his client, so he delves more deeply into the incident and the lives of both men.  What he finds is an obscure but vital point of German law that’s had a profound impact. As Leinen investigates, we also see how deep wartime wounds have really gone.

There are other novels too that address the post-war world and the way people tried to pick up their lives again; this is just a smattering. Your turn.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Gordon Lightfoot’s Carefree Highway.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Åsa Larsson, Ferdinand von Schirach, Geoffrey McGeachin, Gordon Ferris, Jo Nesbø, Philip Kerr, Sara Paretsky, Stuart Neville, Walter Mosley