Alex, by Pierre Lemaitre

In general, what makes a good book?  Who knows?  Not I.  Varies from reader to reader.  But, if you like books that span the gaps from police procedural to mystery to serial killer to monstrous gore, I’ve finished one that will grip you in its bloodthirsty claws from page one.

Takes place in Paris.  Pierre Lemaitre’s protagonist, Commandant Camille Verhoeven, is the epitome of the anti-hero, and an original from start to finish.  Cantankerous, abrasive, short in stature and temper, the powers that be just flat do not like him.  He’s the detective for whom nothing is solved until he’s turned over every rock and stepped on everything that crawls out.  As a reader, sometimes you find yourself laughing out loud at his sarcasm.  Easy to laugh.  You’re an outsider.  Tougher when you’re in up to your eyebrows, your stupidity is hung out like dirty laundry, and the sarcasm cuts you like a rusty knife. Nobody evades his rapier tongue, or his insubordinate sighs.  Certainly not his superiors and especially not suspects with guilty looks, glibly spewing out half answers.

Camille’s superiors give him the shit cases, then are sorry they did.  Open and shut is never open and shut.  Arrogance and self-evidence never goes unquestioned by this snapping bulldog.

And what of the case itself?  A woman has been kidnapped.  You learn to hate the kidnapper in a page and a half.  But, as one curtain after another gets pulled back?  Let’s say this case and this thriller have more twists and turns than a cornered rattlesnake.  You know.  You’re sure you know.  But, you don’t know shit.  And so it goes to the last page.

I’ve simply never read a book like this.  Densely plotted. Characters drawn so sharply and deeply, you swap back and forth from love to hate to grudging admiration, until you find yourself in a quandary.

I’ve grown so tired of thriller that promise to thrill only to fall back on tired formulas, or unreasonable assumptions.  Fifty pages of splendorous magic, followed by 300 pages of pulp.  Makes you want to throw the author up against the wall for wasting your time.

This author is different.  Pierre Lemaitre has written a mystery-thriller-police procedural that not only entertains, but makes you laugh, makes you shiver, and leaves you breathlessly pondering for days afterwards.  The anti-hero, Commandant Camille Verhoeven is a character for the ages.  You may like him or not, but you’re going to be waiting for the next book to see exactly what the bastard is up to next.

An Officer and A Spy - Thrilling!

I read.  A lot.  Well, not as much as my wife, who downs romance novels like a starving woman with a bag of potato chips. Weak characters?  Limp plot?  Doesn’t matter.  On she slogs to the final page.

For my taste, a book has to grab me from page one and not let go.  The harder it grabs, the better I like it.  An Officer and A Spy, by Robert Harris is such a book.  Once I started, my life was no longer my own.  Thrown back into the Paris of La Belle Époque and the maelstrom of the Alfred Dreyfus case, I could not escape.  Food went uneaten.  Sleep came when I passed out and the book collapsed on my chest.  I was in Paris, smelling the horse manure in the steamy streets, sitting in the back rooms of the powerful, drinking coffee in the cafes, all the while being pulled along by the uncomfortable feeling that a deeply sinister wrong could never be righted.

You’ve no doubt heard of Robert Harris, the English author of historical novels.  Fatherland ring any bells?

Harris’ latest effort is a novel constructed around a societal monster. It is 1895. The protagonist, Major Georges Picquart stands in the boisterous crowd of onlookers as Captain Dreyfus is publically stripped of rank and honor.  He’s a spy.  He’s a Jew. Suspected.  Convicted of crimes against France.

No one, including Major Picquart, has the least bit of sympathy.  This betrayer of his country is getting what he deserves.  Shame.  Dishonor.  Imprisonment, and not just any prison, Devil’s Island.

You surely know from your high school history the short version of the story.  The beginning, and the end perhaps.  But even with that knowledge, this thriller is no less thrilling.  History, in the form of a novel, lays bare the conspiracies, the obstinacy, the espionage, the treason, and the suffering. Reaching inside the French Army and Government, you’ll find the filthy, tangled details.  The soul of a twisted story.

This tale of fighting the good fight, of revelations that turn enemies to friends, and friends to co-conspirators will hold you spellbound, while it strips the packaging off terms like goodness, justice, duty, and loyalty.

Robert Harris, whether writing of imagined monsters, or monstrous situations is a powerful literary force.  In An Officer and A Spy, his words grab you by your senses and sweep you along in the whirlwind of history.   You’ll swear, you’ll sweat.  Awake or asleep, this tale won’t let you rest.

Under the Skin - will get under your skin

Anyone ever read any Michel Faber?  If you have you’ll know what I’m talking about when I say no two of his books are anything alike, well except for The Apple: The Crimson Petal Stories, which is a follow-up to The Crimson Petal and the White.  I’m the only one in my family who liked ‘Crimson and White’. Nothing new there.  I’m used to living in intellectual solitude.

No surprise either when you begin Under the Skin and have no idea where it’s leading, much like the start of a dinner conversation with your wife.  But, you press on, because in a marriage, silence is perilous, not golden.  So it is with Under the Skin.  You keep going, but not on faith alone.  Faber has a way of drawing you in, all the while twisting the plot, making you want to know just a little more.  Good novelists are like that.  They convince you right off the bat that the life they’re telling you about is one hell-of-a-lot more interesting than your own. 

What can I mention about Under the Skin without spilling too much, spoiling the surprise, ruining the plot?  How about I tease you with the first few lines?

“Isserley always drove straight past a hitch-hiker when she first saw him, to give herself time to size him up.  Puny, scrawny specimens were no use to her.”  So, you’re asking yourself, is this a serial killer?  A random story of wonderfully titillating illicit sex?  Yes and no to all of the above.

Isserley is a strange and astonishing character.  When she picks up her hitch-hikers, and takes them for a ride, they open up to her, exposing their feeling, and dreams, all the while giving you an in-depth glimpse into our modern lives.  You’re almost mysteriously swept into the meaning of what it means to be human.  Compassion?  Determination?  Faber explores our common instincts and values, with a scintillating plot that drives you deeper and deeper into terror, and justice, with an ending that leaves you gasping.

You might say Under the Skin is part science fiction, part mystery, and part life lessons.  Too cryptic?  That’s the problem with Faber, as I said, you never know where he’s going, what’s true and what’s an illusion.  But, wherever it is, the plot is so compelling he leaves you dying to follow.

No mistake.  This is a Disturbing book.  Capital D. It’s also an edge of the seat thriller.  Days and weeks afterwards, you’ll still be brooding about it.  If you’re unlucky, it will` haunt your daydreams and make you miss your wife’s helpful comments about every one of your truly insignificant shortcomings.  Ah, well, there are disadvantages to everything.

Under the Skin is available on Amazon, and yes, there is a kindle version.