I just finished March Violets (how fitting!) by Phillip Kerr, which is the first book in the Berlin Noir trilogy. It’s a novel in the tradition of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, centering around Bernie Gunther, a private detective commissioned to solve a seemingly straight-forward crime involving the theft of a pricey diamond necklace. However, the setting is the earlier years of Nazi era Germany, and there are lots o’ lots o’ Nazis lurkin’ around this story, unlike the works of Chandler and Hammett. So I’ve read a lot by Chandler and a few by Hammett, and I’m not sure why, but I really like the ‘noir’ genre – despite it’s often rather misogynistic take on women, (or should I say ‘broads’ or ‘dames’?) Maybe it’s because these stories are set in the past. I’m thinking this because I’ve read what I would probably consider the successors to this genre that take place in modern times – the specific example I”m thinking of here is The Night Gardener by George Pelecanos. I liked that book, but from what I recall, it seemed like the women characters lacked real dimension and were somewhat peripheral to the plot, plus it seemed like they were either whores or mothers with hearts of gold. Since this is the 21st century, I can’t give that stuff a free pass, this is the world I live in, and it just ain’t like that. For example, I am neither a mother or a whore, and I most definitely don’t have a heart of gold. Know what I mean?
But I digress! March Violets!
I really liked this book. I was reading a review of this somewhere online where the criticism was that Kerr incorporates every stereotype of the noir genre into the book. Well, uh, if he didn’t, then I suppose it wouldn’t be ‘noir’ would it? It would be Nick Sparks or that Twilight lady. Whatever, I thought it was a great story, with an albeit, VERY dark ending. My only criticism is there were just so many damn characters and all the German names started sounding the same so I’d have to go back and figure out who they actually were. Same with all the street names and places in Berlin (ahem, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, anyone?) But these days I can’t remember a damn thing anymore anyways, so it could just be my own mental deficiencies.
Anyways, I just started Homer and Langley by E.L. Doctorow, a fictionalized account of 2 real New York brothers – crazy hoarders! How can you not love a story about hoarders? Well, we may find out – I’ve only just started.
