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3.85 AVERAGE
3.85 AVERAGE
Easy to read this writer's style. I love Rebus. This book however ended quick and with little explanation of killer's issues.
Welcome back Rebus. You gave us all a bit of a fright by retiring but happily you couldn't stay away. It's great to see Rebus back consorting with criminals and pissing off his superiors.
Never leave me again, John.
Never leave me again, John.
I'm rather fond of Rankin, but actually prefer his new detective, Fox, to Rebus. Fox appears in this novel, but not really recognisable from the Fox novels. Obviously, he's viewed from Rebus' POV, but still!
The plot is not bad, but I've seen far better than this from Rankin's hand. Slightly disappointed here.
Luckily, I did not give up and continued directly on to Saints of the Shadow Bible.
The plot is not bad, but I've seen far better than this from Rankin's hand. Slightly disappointed here.
Luckily, I did not give up and continued directly on to Saints of the Shadow Bible.
What a strange book.
It's clear that Rebus' investigation of the string of disappearances along the A9 road between Edinburgh and Inverness and points north are supposed to serve as a metaphor for his inability to let his police career go. He drives back and forth along the road -- mid-day, dead of night, when he's told his fellow officers he's elsewhere -- with a manic determination underscored by the increasing frequency with which he talks to his aging Saab.
And I say it's clear because if you, as a reader, hadn't picked up on the metaphor, Rankin's only too happy to whang it into your head with a shovel. Here the part of the shovel is played by a traveling salesman Rebus shares a cigarette with at a gas station off the A9:
Being on the road, of course, is a metaphor for working police cases, and the two men's preference for a life on the road is meant to explain Rebus' increasingly obsessive focus on his work, despite being retired. Also if you missed Mr Metaphor, don't worry, he'll be back two pages later:
So on the one hand Rebus seems to have some grasp that the way he lives -- taking case files home to the dining room table is standard now, and Rebus only listens to music while he's driving -- he's also in complete denial, thinking himself entirely different from the other retired cops he knows, "treating a stint at the pub almost as if it were a job in itself." Co-investigators comment on Rebus' retired status, and Rebus himself, when pushed, usually while in commission of something flagrantly off-limits to civilians, will admit that's he's now a not-cop.
There's even a brief flirtation with some type of punishment for Rebus' continued obsession, as Matthew Fox from the Complaints Department (and Rankin's other series) takes a crack at putting together a Complaint. But in the end Fox gets his wrist slapped by the higher-ups for his troubles and winds up giving Rebus a melodramatic "I'll get you next time, Gadget, NEXT TIIIIIIIIME" speech that carries him safely into ludicrous territory.
And therein lies the problem with this book: Rebus gets away with it.
He winds up solving the case on a hunch, a gut instinct, and when the evidence doesn't back him up, he sets the criminal up and terrifies him into a confession while Siobhan Clarke looks on, nodding eagerly. He's warned off the case a dozen times but that's all he gets, warnings. One after the other, until he's aiding and abetting kidnap and assault. Well, it's all for the greater good, isn't it, so let's let Rebus keep right on Rebe-ing.
It's an odd angle to take, and while it's certainly new, it shows an authorial indulgence for the protagonist that doesn't really work out.
There's also a subplot about an obsessive mother that Rebus neatly solves and stows to one side halfway through the book, wherein we're supposed to understand the obsessive mother was fine with that and just toddled back down off home and really, people don't work like that. They just don't. I could also get annoyed at the whole Siobhan-Clarke-boycrazy-inappropriate-behavior subplot but it was just too depressing for words.
However, I did continue to adore Rebus' cranky old man friendship with Ger Cafferty (a central theme of the book) and how he uses his history with the Edinburgh underworld to go places more law-abiding coppers can't or won't. And if this series continues (which I hope it does), I'm very much looking forward to seeing more of the new kid-villain on the block.
All in all, a very mixed bag.
It's clear that Rebus' investigation of the string of disappearances along the A9 road between Edinburgh and Inverness and points north are supposed to serve as a metaphor for his inability to let his police career go. He drives back and forth along the road -- mid-day, dead of night, when he's told his fellow officers he's elsewhere -- with a manic determination underscored by the increasing frequency with which he talks to his aging Saab.
And I say it's clear because if you, as a reader, hadn't picked up on the metaphor, Rankin's only too happy to whang it into your head with a shovel. Here the part of the shovel is played by a traveling salesman Rebus shares a cigarette with at a gas station off the A9:
"I have to admit, though, I do like it. Not that I'd tell my wife that. Never feel quite at home when I'm stuck in an office, or even with my feet up in front of the telly." He looked at Rebus. "That probably sounds crazy."
"Not really. When you're on the road, there's always a destination, and you know you're going to reach it one way or another."
Being on the road, of course, is a metaphor for working police cases, and the two men's preference for a life on the road is meant to explain Rebus' increasingly obsessive focus on his work, despite being retired. Also if you missed Mr Metaphor, don't worry, he'll be back two pages later:
"What about you? Are you any closer to catching that madman?"
He was remembering his words to the salesman: there's always a destination, and you know you're going to reach it one way or another...
So on the one hand Rebus seems to have some grasp that the way he lives -- taking case files home to the dining room table is standard now, and Rebus only listens to music while he's driving -- he's also in complete denial, thinking himself entirely different from the other retired cops he knows, "treating a stint at the pub almost as if it were a job in itself." Co-investigators comment on Rebus' retired status, and Rebus himself, when pushed, usually while in commission of something flagrantly off-limits to civilians, will admit that's he's now a not-cop.
There's even a brief flirtation with some type of punishment for Rebus' continued obsession, as Matthew Fox from the Complaints Department (and Rankin's other series) takes a crack at putting together a Complaint. But in the end Fox gets his wrist slapped by the higher-ups for his troubles and winds up giving Rebus a melodramatic "I'll get you next time, Gadget, NEXT TIIIIIIIIME" speech that carries him safely into ludicrous territory.
And therein lies the problem with this book: Rebus gets away with it.
He winds up solving the case on a hunch, a gut instinct, and when the evidence doesn't back him up, he sets the criminal up and terrifies him into a confession while Siobhan Clarke looks on, nodding eagerly. He's warned off the case a dozen times but that's all he gets, warnings. One after the other, until he's aiding and abetting kidnap and assault. Well, it's all for the greater good, isn't it, so let's let Rebus keep right on Rebe-ing.
It's an odd angle to take, and while it's certainly new, it shows an authorial indulgence for the protagonist that doesn't really work out.
There's also a subplot about an obsessive mother that Rebus neatly solves and stows to one side halfway through the book, wherein we're supposed to understand the obsessive mother was fine with that and just toddled back down off home and really, people don't work like that. They just don't. I could also get annoyed at the whole Siobhan-Clarke-boycrazy-inappropriate-behavior subplot but it was just too depressing for words.
However, I did continue to adore Rebus' cranky old man friendship with Ger Cafferty (a central theme of the book) and how he uses his history with the Edinburgh underworld to go places more law-abiding coppers can't or won't. And if this series continues (which I hope it does), I'm very much looking forward to seeing more of the new kid-villain on the block.
All in all, a very mixed bag.
It's good to have Rebus and Clarke back with us. Featuring Rebus and Rankin's new detective Malcolm Fox in the same novel only serves to highlight what three novels have shown us: that Fox is a tiresome pain in the you-know-what. (explaining why I am not reading the Fox novels now) Another unwelcome presence in this novel is Ger Cafferty. I never much liked the Rebus novels that focused on Cafferty. I would have preferred some resolution to put that all to rest and yet here we are still stuck with the gangster. Sigh. A good interesting mystery with Rebus at his usual dogged form, always the best advocate for the victim, police politics be damned. That's what we love about him. Now if Rankin could only leave Cafferty behind as he should have in the last book, for good.
Welcome back Rebus. Satisfying as ever. Neatly interwoven subplots. A neat ending disguising an underlying theme of the lack of neat answers in life and lots of loose ends to be, hopefully, picked up in subsequent novels. Rankin has played fast and loose with Fox, but I only ever loved him as a stand in and won't miss him.
I´m very happy Rebus is back, and I liked the story. But I´m a bit disappointed that Malcolm Fox didn´t really become as much a part of the story I had thought. It makes me wonder if Malcolm Fox now is history...
Well, I prefer Rebus, so I don´t mind.
Well, I prefer Rebus, so I don´t mind.
Finally, Rebus is back! for fans of the Inspector Rebus series by Rankin, this was a long awaited book. i really enjoyed the comeback with Rebus now working as a retired officer on cold case files. when a group of cold cases ties into an active murder case, Rebus is sucked back into play with (now Inspector) Siobhan Clarke and Big Ger Cafferty and many other favorite characters. Rebus is still hungover, smoking too much and bending the rules in the most entertaining way. the actual murder investigation was right up there with some of Rankin's best work, but i was dissapointed with how he worked Inspector Malcom Fox of the Complaints into the story. i guess it makes sense that in a story told from Rebus' point of view, Fox (who works in the equivalent of Internal Affairs) would not be portrayed well, but even so, the character comes off as a meaningless addition to the story, looking like a forced attempt to unite the two Rankin series into one thread. still, the book was very good and Rankin is still the master of plot and intrigue set in the gritty Scottish police force.
Ian Rankin remains one of my favorite mystery writers. Standing in Another Man's Grave is one of his best. Rebus, the Scottish detective, is retired but working for the police solving cold cases. His latest case is both cold and active. Women have gone missing and Rebus thinks there may be a serial killer involved even though no bodies have been found. Rebus chases down clues, rebels against the rules, drags his friend Siobhan into trouble with him, and talks to members of the seamier side of Edinburgh society. Of course, there is plenty of beer, bars and whisky involved. Rebus may be failing to take care of himself but this mystery series is alive and well.