Take a photo of a barcode or cover
spectacledbear 's review for:
Faceless Killers
by Henning Mankell
I'm not really sure what I think about this book. I've watched the television adaptations of Wallander novels (both the Swedish and the English versions), and enjoyed them.
However, I didn't enjoy this book quite as much - it's not that I knew how it ended because, although I must have seen the story on screen at least twice, I didn't remember it. Perhaps it was the translation; I found the writing a little stilted in places, which is surely down to the translator rather than to Mankell's writing.
That being said, I wasn't bored, and it wasn't an effort to finish. The crime around which the story revolved was horrific and, sadly, all too easy to believe, and the slight ploddiness of the plot probably reflects the realities of police work, which of course doesn't move as fast as TV dramas would have us believe. I read a review on GR which complained about the constant mention of time passing in the book, which is certainly the case but I think it helps to underline how slowly these things can move.
As I write this, though, I'm wondering whether the ploddiness and stiltedness is actually a true reflection of Mankell's style; illustrating Wallander's plodding, stilted life. He is obviously a talented detective, or at least is considered to be so by his boss and his colleagues; he is a senior officer, acting as police chief at the start of the book. But we meet him just after his wife has left and he tries to come to terms with being alone for the first time in probably twenty years; his relationship with his daughter is distant, angry and disappointing, and his father is descending into senility. He eats badly, drinks too much, makes terrible choices and seems to be well along the road that's paved with good intentions. It's not fashionable to have a hero who isn't massively flawed, but Wallander barely seems functional sometimes; he flails from event to event, constantly planning to change his ways, regretting his actions and holding in his true (not always likeable) reactions and feelings.
All of that aside, I will definitely read another Wallander book. If only to work out whether I like him or not.
(On a different note, there were a number of typos which should have been picked up by a decent copyeditor - if publishers even have those nowadays - such as missing spaces between words.)
However, I didn't enjoy this book quite as much - it's not that I knew how it ended because, although I must have seen the story on screen at least twice, I didn't remember it. Perhaps it was the translation; I found the writing a little stilted in places, which is surely down to the translator rather than to Mankell's writing.
That being said, I wasn't bored, and it wasn't an effort to finish. The crime around which the story revolved was horrific and, sadly, all too easy to believe, and the slight ploddiness of the plot probably reflects the realities of police work, which of course doesn't move as fast as TV dramas would have us believe. I read a review on GR which complained about the constant mention of time passing in the book, which is certainly the case but I think it helps to underline how slowly these things can move.
As I write this, though, I'm wondering whether the ploddiness and stiltedness is actually a true reflection of Mankell's style; illustrating Wallander's plodding, stilted life. He is obviously a talented detective, or at least is considered to be so by his boss and his colleagues; he is a senior officer, acting as police chief at the start of the book. But we meet him just after his wife has left and he tries to come to terms with being alone for the first time in probably twenty years; his relationship with his daughter is distant, angry and disappointing, and his father is descending into senility. He eats badly, drinks too much, makes terrible choices and seems to be well along the road that's paved with good intentions. It's not fashionable to have a hero who isn't massively flawed, but Wallander barely seems functional sometimes; he flails from event to event, constantly planning to change his ways, regretting his actions and holding in his true (not always likeable) reactions and feelings.
All of that aside, I will definitely read another Wallander book. If only to work out whether I like him or not.
(On a different note, there were a number of typos which should have been picked up by a decent copyeditor - if publishers even have those nowadays - such as missing spaces between words.)