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A review by drgarry
Even Dogs in the Wild by Ian Rankin
1.0
I have been a fan of Mr Rankin and his detective Rebus for many a year. Rankin still knows how to write muscular prose, but when it comes to plotting: he's lost the plot. In this novel, he is so pre-occupied narrating Rebus' activities that he has wholly forgotten how to actually write a mystery/crime novel.
The author has slept through his own plot, only to wake up in the last few pages to discover that he has no villain. Rankin fabricates one out of thin air, just in time for his publisher's cheque to appear in the mail.
The writing is fine, the plotting is lazy and indolent, the sure sign of an author who is just going through the motions.
The author has slept through his own plot, only to wake up in the last few pages to discover that he has no villain. Rankin fabricates one out of thin air, just in time for his publisher's cheque to appear in the mail.
The writing is fine, the plotting is lazy and indolent, the sure sign of an author who is just going through the motions.