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July 3
Hardback
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In A Dry Season
by Peter Robinson
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Reviewed by Maria Parker
When I got Peter Robinson's latest Chief Inspector Banks book, In A
Dry Season, for review, I was both thrilled and terrified. Thrilled
because this series has become one of my favorites and I was already
eagerly awaiting the newest installment, terrified by two fears:
what if I didn't like it as much as I wanted to? Peter Robinson is a
biggie--and I might have to write a negative review. Or, what if I
did like it as much as I wanted to--could I write something halfway
coherent without lapsing into gushing adulation?
Well, two out of three ain't bad. I'm still thrilled, and I liked
the book even more than I thought possible, so I don't have to write
a negative review. In fact, the book is fantastic, Robinson's best
so far, I think it's fair to say. Not that any of the nine earlier
books are simple; all address social issues, deal with moral
ambiguities, are well-plotted and have a cast of believable,
three-dimensional characters.
But In A Dry Season reaches new heights of complexity in all these
areas. The basic plot device is one not unfamiliar to mystery
readers--the skeleton of a woman who was apparently murdered decades
earlier is discovered in the outbuilding of a cottage. Who is the
woman and why was she killed?
Robinson grafts this story onto the real historical event of a 1995
drought in the UK that dried up a reservoir, unearthing an entire
village. DCI Banks, not in the best graces with his superiors (due
to events in the previous book, Blood at the Root), is assigned to
this seemingly dead-end case, along with a new detective sergeant
transferred from another division for somewhat murky reasons. Added
to Banks' professional problems is his increasingly complicated
personal life, which includes actual or potential relationships with
his estranged wife, almost estranged son, and several attractive
women.
The "who was she, who killed her and why?" story alone would make
for a satisfying plot, but what sets In A Dry Season apart is the
brilliantly seamless juxtaposition of the present-day detecting
thread with the events of the past, narrated as they occur during
World War II by a young woman who lives in the village. In the
acknowledgments, Robinson thanks his father for helping him
reconstruct the past, and indeed, that reconstruction is masterful.
Like many readers (and Robinson himself), I was born after that war
and thus have no personal memories of it. Now, for the first time, I
can imagine how day-to-day life actually unfolded in England during
those years, and even more importantly, how those events shaped and
affected the lives of everyone who
experienced them for decades
thereafter, if not the rest of their lives. (In an e-mail
conversation, Robinson told me he had cut a lot of the wartime
story, for the better, he thought. I'll take his word for it, but
it's interesting to speculate what else we might have learned about
the characters).
There is much more to elaborate on: the complexity with which the
social issues are handled (including a stunning and daring final
chapter), the evocative writing ("clouds as black as a Nazi's heart besmirched the sky like grease stains"), the success of the delicate
balancing act between the stories, all of which add up to a simple:
Read it.
Now to the cavil that will save this from the feared total gushing
adulation: the author picture should be in color instead of that
boring black and white. But oh, there's that WWII tie-in.
Ok, I give up. The book is damn near perfect.
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