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A review by wickham
Before the Poison by Peter Robinson
2.0
Before the Poison is a very procedural murder mystery, with the Nancy Drew style interweaving of multiple seemingly unrelated plots creating a cosy atmosphere fit for a night in. Add to that a historical fiction slant focusing on Britain during the 1940s and 1950s and a dash of interpersonal drama and theoretically you've got a recipe for success.
However, I think Robinson must've misread that recipe somehow, because this book is far from the treat it could be. Firstly, the persistent male gaze bothered me immensely. Women were always described in reference to their attractiveness while men were allowed to be defined by their character rather than their looks. The main character had sex on the brain constantly, and seemed to live in an alternate version of Britain where that was simply the norm.
Secondly, Robinson is mostly known for his Inspector Banks series, which I've heard is quite good. But I also think that series has bled a bit into this book, because with no explanation and little genuine motive the protagonist finds himself morphing from a film score composer into a full blown detective, complete with experience interrogating witnesses, halfway through the book. This transition isn't based on any particular logic but instead seems completely contrived.
Thirdly, there is a prominent implication that the protagonist can see ghosts. Nothing is done about this. It was intensely concerning to me.
The potential for a truly excellent book is here, with well constructed twists and complex webs of intrigue. Unfortunately that potential is buried beneath the gratuitous heft of largely uninteresting detail and the aforementioned glaring issues.
However, I think Robinson must've misread that recipe somehow, because this book is far from the treat it could be. Firstly, the persistent male gaze bothered me immensely. Women were always described in reference to their attractiveness while men were allowed to be defined by their character rather than their looks. The main character had sex on the brain constantly, and seemed to live in an alternate version of Britain where that was simply the norm.
Secondly, Robinson is mostly known for his Inspector Banks series, which I've heard is quite good. But I also think that series has bled a bit into this book, because with no explanation and little genuine motive the protagonist finds himself morphing from a film score composer into a full blown detective, complete with experience interrogating witnesses, halfway through the book. This transition isn't based on any particular logic but instead seems completely contrived.
Thirdly, there is a prominent implication that the protagonist can see ghosts. Nothing is done about this. It was intensely concerning to me.
The potential for a truly excellent book is here, with well constructed twists and complex webs of intrigue. Unfortunately that potential is buried beneath the gratuitous heft of largely uninteresting detail and the aforementioned glaring issues.