Published in Hardback by Doubleday on 26th March 2015. My thanks to the publisher, Sophie Christopher and Bookbridgr for sending me my review copy, and inviting me onto the blog tour.
Synopsis:
London is under siege. A banking scandal has filled the city with violent protests, and as the anger in the streets detonates, a young homeless man burns to death after being caught in the crossfire between rioters and the police.
But all is not as it seems; an opportunistic killer is using the chaos to exact revenge, but his intended victims are so mysteriously chosen that the Peculiar Crimes Unit is called in to find a way of stopping him.
Using their network of eccentric contacts, elderly detectives Arthur Bryant and John May hunt down a murderer who adopts incendiary methods of execution. But they soon find their investigation taking an apocalyptic turn as the case comes to involve the history of mob rule, corruption, rebellion, punishment and the legend of Guy Fawkes.
At the same time, several members of the PCU team reach dramatic turning points in their lives - but the most personal tragedy is yet to come, for as the race to bring down a cunning killer reaches its climax, Arthur Bryant faces his own devastating day of reckoning.
‘I always said we’d go out with a hell of a bang,’ warns Bryant.
Interview:
Twelve
Bryant & May Novels & Counting
Christopher Fowler
Actually, that’s thirteen if you count my
detective duo’s stunningly rendered graphic novel. Someone I hadn’t caught up
with for a while said to me, ‘So, you’re still churning out those Bryant &
May books are you?’
I pointed out that yes, mystery novels were
one type of book I write, although there were many others. He said; ‘Then why
do you bother with the crime stuff? They’re all the same, aren’t they?’
I explained that my stand-alone novels sold a
fraction of the copies that my series sold because readers like to return to
characters, and that no, I was very keen on constantly ringing the changes with
the series, trying different genres within the mystery field, altering the
lineup and even the style of writing.
Now the new Bryant & May mystery is appearing
on shelves, and although I delivered my books for the rest of 2015 long ago
I’ve yet to decide on the future fate of my detectives – do I dip back into the
past to present missing cases, or move forward with a new spin-off project I’ve
been quietly developing for a couple of years? Either way, I’ll have to choose
this month and get stuck in. There are deadlines approaching.
Traditionally, authors who write more books
featuring their detectives survive over ones who write fewer. However, Conan
Doyle and R Austin Freeman post similar numbers – Sherlock Holmes starred in 56
stories and four novels, while Freeman’s terrific Dr Thorndyke appeared
in 40 short stories and 22 novels. Agatha Christie used Hercule Poirot in 33
novels, while her contemporary Gladys Mitchell used her detective Mrs Bradley
in 66 books. Dorothy L Sayers only wrote eleven Lord Peter Wimsey novels, and
Robert Van Gulik wrote 25 Judge Dee novels, although as each of these contain
several cases in the Chinese style do we count them as more? (There was a
rather fun Judge Dee movie about four years ago, and a famous Granada TV
series).
However, when it comes to totals Christie
also wrote an additional 50 short stories featuring Hercule Poirot, so she sort
of wins on volume (although I love the madder Ms Mitchell). Volume seems to be
important as readers develop a loyalty, but it also creates its own problem –
critics generally stop reviewing you after the first volume. I’ve been lucky in
my US reviews as later volumes have garnered good reviews. But it’s tricky
finding the balance between offering up familiarity and providing fresh
surprises.
It’s not all about numbers, of course. Colin
Dexter wrote surprisingly few Inspector Morse novels, but an exemplary TV
series kept his character alive with fresh stories often created by respected
playwrights, and despite the death of the superlative actor John Thaw,
continued into both the future and the past with spin-off series. The Bryant
& May books are slightly unusual in that they’re simultaneously pastiches
and full of real London history, but they also contain quite a large cast of
characters – what I term ‘the Springfield effect’ – all of whom I have to keep
track of.
These factors, and the rather esoteric
plotlines, have kept the books rather below the parapet of mainstream awareness
– I can’t get stocked in WH Smith to save my life – but it may just result in
the series being long-lived. Because although I’ve been forbidden by the
publishers to tell you anything here, I can tell you that this is most
definitely NOT the end.
Q&As
Which
was the first book (of any kind) to make a strong impression on you – and why?
The first book I remember reading was
‘Treasure Island’, but I had a fondness for exotic adventures like ‘Swiss
Family Robinson’ and ‘Coral Island’, probably because I came from a South
London backstreet where nobody had travelled further than Brighton. What stood
out then – and still draws me – is the richly coloured ‘otherness’ of far-flung
lands. It’s probably why I graduated to the Gormenghast trilogy by Mervyn
Peake. The dense descriptions of the castle that defeated so many readers
entranced me, rather like the detailed textures in Pre-Raphaelite paintings.
At
what point did you discover that you had some facility with the written word?
Very early on. My essays were always
returned with a high score – in strict inverse to my maths scores – and my
teacher encouraged me to write. I started a home magazine and filled it with
stories from about the age of ten. I was given a great piece of advice by a
terrific teacher: ‘Nobody needs a good all-rounder – excel at something.’
Major
influences then – and now?
First, storytellers - I discovered a chain of seedy South London second-hand book
stores called the Popular Book Centres. They stamped their smudged triangular
logo inside all their books, and made enough money from top-shelf smut to keep
racks of yellowing paperbacks going for real readers. In this way, they were
every bit as useful as public libraries. The great thing about the shop was
that I could always find something rare and wonderful lurking in the racks, and
as everything was 1/6d I could afford to take a chance on the dodgiest-looking
books.
Alfred Hitchcock had put his name to a series of dog-eared
anthologies that were wonderful assorted literary ragbags, and from these I
started making informed decisions about the writing I enjoyed most. I made a
list of favourite short stories:
‘The Cone’ – HG Wells
‘Leningen Versus The
Ants’ – Carl Stephenson
‘Camera Obscura’ –
Basil Copper
‘Evening Primrose’ –
John Collier
‘The Man Who Liked
Dickens’ – Evelyn Waugh
‘The Fly’ – George
Langelaan
The biggest single influence of any writer has been the
ultimate ‘exotic’, JG Ballard, whose works I can virtually recite by heart. But
Dickens had a huge impact because his writing contains everything you need to
know, and I love the nasty home truths in Evelyn Waugh’s darkest books.
Was Roofworld
(1988) your first completed novel? How was it received by publishers – then
readers?
I had attempted two earlier novels, both
of which I’ve locked in a drawer, never to be seen, so Roofworld was the first
‘proper’ novel. My publisher loved it, but could never decide where it fitted
in the canon of fiction, or who I should be compared to. Then an American
publication said ‘A Major new thriller writer takes his place halfway between
JG Ballard and Stephen King’, so that decided things – for a while. The book
didn’t sell well initially, but built by word of mouth. Readers said; ‘It’s
made me look up and see London properly for the first time’, which is certainly
a result. I still think it’s an original idea, but perhaps today I’d have
developed the characters more.
Which
normally comes first for you - an idea or theme, plot, place or characters. And
why?
I have a habit of jumping over and
between genres, and it confuses readers. I used to think like a traditional
genre writer, coming up with what I felt was a killer plot and a good theme. I
revised my thinking over time to aim for the creation of a good central
character. The comedy writers Galton & Simpson taught me that you have
nothing without character and tragedy. I’ve come across wonderful thriller
plots that are horribly written and beautiful writing that goes nowhere – the
trick is to marry elegance and surprise.
What
factors, after three incidental appearances
in previous novels, lead to the introduction in Full Dark
House of Arthur Bryant and John May as major characters?
I think I’d realised by then that I was
sufficiently interested in these odd old men to see what more they could do. I
get annoyed when critics harp on about the perceived grittiness of police
procedurals –most are as much a fictional construct as westerns. We never hear
about real-life crime cases in which the killer continues to attack while under
investigation, eventually threatening the detective’s own family. ‘Grittiness’
in crime is just detailing so, I reasoned, why couldn’t I use Golden Age
detectives in a modern world? I’ve always felt that the secret is to ground
stories is realistic characterisation and recognisable behaviour. And many of
the most surprising elements in the books are taken from fact.
Also, most of my books operate from two
points of view – with Bryant & May I was able to have this running dialogue
between nonsense & sensibility, if you will. Bryant is bizarre and
unpredictable, May is the ‘control’ part of any experiment.
At
first sight, there appears to be some distance between the earlier ‘hybrid’
books featuring ‘horror, fantasy and science fiction’ and the later Bryant
& May books. What new opportunities did the change offer you as a writer?
Contrary to popular belief, really good
supernatural novels are very hard to write. I realised I was developing hybrid
tales because publishers recalled my background in short stories of the
fantastic, and I was trying to please them and not alienate my readership. Once
I shed the supernatural elements, I was free to explore a wider range of
themes, and deepen the characters. The dangerous thing was to introduce humour
– critics like gravitas. You can get away with anything if you say it with a
straight face. Look at Lee Child’s excellent Jack Reacher novels, which are a
hairsbreadth from satire.
What
were you trying to achieve with those early books in the series?
In the early days I set out to write a
story in every different area of crime fiction. So ‘Full Dark House’ is an
Agatha Christie origin story, ‘The Water Room’ is a John Dickson Carr locked
room mystery, ‘Seventy Seven Clocks’ is a Robert Louis Stevenson romp, ‘White
Corridor’ is a Sebastien Japrisot suspense novel and so on. Now I’m far more
relaxed about my plots and themes. For ‘relaxed’, read ‘confident’.
Short
stories have, I believe, always been important to you. What role do they play
in your writing life?
They’re adventure playgrounds. You use
them to try out all kinds of angles, and don’t have too far to fall if you
fail. Only very occasionally do you get something wonderful. From a little
under 200 stories I’m really proud of around 10.
What
do you consider to be your strongest points as a writer?
It’s probably not for me to say. I think
I balance a populist approach with something more obsessive, but this once
again means I fall between demographic slots. I think visually and densely, but
I’m horribly impatient. I hate prosaic scene-setting, weather descriptions and
endless room decor, and given the choice I’d be far more experimental in my
approach. My novel ‘Plastic’ is densely written, and a New York friend
criticised me for making it too rich – an argument I find absurd. Not
everything has to be lightweight. The author has many different tools for the
job.
In
what skill (as a writer) would you most like to improve?
I wish I could slow down and concentrate
entirely on one book for two years again, as I did when I had a day job.
There’s an emphasis on output and profile now that I think is unhealthy for the
development of novels. I’m never happy with my descriptive passages, and when I
read the prose of say, David Mitchell, Jim Shepard or Don DeLillo I feel like
giving up. I think I lack elegance.
Any
(printable) views on critics, particularly in the field of crime?
I’ve been very lucky with critics, and
have (touch wood) had few bad reviews, but as a reviewer myself I know the
demands placed on good critics to read and deliver at speed. As the FT crime
reviewer I was reading (or at least scanning) around 20 books a month to select
just two I’d read and then review. It was intensely time-consuming. I admire
reviewers like Barry Forshaw and Suzie Feay, who are vocational about their
work. I don’t think you should merely destroy the inept, as restaurant critics
do; it’s lazy and too easy to be another AA Gill. Having said that, certain
authors appear unassailable. Private Eye pointed out that out of twenty
reviewers, I was the only one to criticise Stephen King. An author’s ubiquity
should not make him critic-proof. But I made sure my argument was well-reasoned
and not just snarky opinion.
What
is your definition of writing Heaven? And writing Hell?
Heaven is the second draft, when you
know you have the story locked and you can relax and have fun. Hell is the
first draft when you realise the idea isn’t going to work out as you’d hoped.
How
do you relax?
I travel a lot, to the most exotic
places I can afford to reach – I’m infamous for getting into scrapes in far-off
lands - and I watch a lot of European films. I occasionally see Hollywood
movies, but less and less. I never watch television except for box-sets at
Christmas. This year: ‘True Detective’. OMFG.
Favourite
news media: old (print) or new (electronic)?
I’m an e-news hunter/gatherer, so I tap
into a lot of ideas others miss – I know an alarming number of people who hate
anything electronic, which is absurd, as the two formats are symbiotic – I
often read a book first on Kindle, then buy a hard copy to keep, and there are
a great many critical websites with better writing than you can ever find in
magazines. Too many newspapers hire TV presenters and the talentless children
of media-folk. But a Sunday print newspaper is sometimes nice with a pint. I
don’t think the UK has sorted out its press subscription sites very well – the
New York Times is still streets ahead of any UK online subscription.
What
book(s) are you reading at the moment?
Thanks to an e-reader I usually have
around 4 books on the go at once. At the moment I’m reading Graham Joyce’s ‘The
Year Of The Ladybird’, Christopher Priest’s ‘The Adjacent’, Mohsin Hamid’s ‘How
To Get Filthy Rich In Rising Asia’, and ‘Vainglory’ by Ronald Firbank, a
‘missing’ novel which has gone straight to e-print.
Which
new(ish) writer have you most enjoyed reading recently?
I love Warren Ellis’s forays into crime,
and I’ve just discovered Jim Shepard, an amazing US short story writer who
should be better known. I’m rather shocked that I’m not reading many new women
writers – much of what I choose is from recommendations, and one growing
problem is that the gender divide is being courted by publishers so that it’s
assumed women only write for women. Thank God, then, for Hilary Mantel, and for
crime writers like Val McDermid and Laura Wilson.
'Desert
Island' films, plays and/or music?
Where to start? Comfort movies like
‘Hair’ and ‘Aliens’ and ‘It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World’ (I explain the reason
for that last one in my memoir ‘Paperboy’). I am also the only person in the
world who loves Ken Russell’s ‘The Boy Friend’. Plays; Sondheim for wordplay,
Charles Wood and Peter Barnes for muscularity of writing, but more recently
‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’, ‘Mathilda’ and
‘Jerusalem’. Music is insanely eclectic – I have a passion for film soundtracks
that borders mental illness, but this morning I was playing Richard Strauss and
German jazz funk band De-Phazz. I love minimalists like Michael Nyman and Wim
Mertens. And hard house.
A
favourite bookshop?
I love my two nearest shops, Foyles in
St Pancras and Watermark in King’s Cross. And of course, Forbidden Planet –
I’ve been shopping with them since they were just a market stall in Soho’s
Berwick Street.
Are
you in favour of the death penalty for murder?
Absolutely not. An eye for an eye is
biblical law, not the mark of a civilised society.
Who
or what makes you laugh?
I love very English language-play; Monty
Python, Galton & Simpson, Joe Orton, Al Murray, Stewart Lee, Viz, PG
Wodehouse, the Ealing Comedies, ‘The Thick Of It’, The Grand Budapest Hotel..
What
depresses you most about contemporary Britain?
The gap between rich and poor, which
keeps kids uneducated, and the lunacy of television which happily fills
children’s heads with unrealistic dreams. People working at TV companies should
ask themselves if they’re contributing anything to society instead of shrieking
at each other over Soho House drinks. Every era gets the cons it deserves, and
our children deserve something better than the Kardashians.
What
excites you most about contemporary Britain?
I live in King’s Cross, possible the
most polyglot place in the planet, and it’s thrilling just to walk through
crowds. I have no truck with the Little England mentality and – from a purely
aesthetic point of view – prefer the muezzin’s call to prayer more than church
bells on a Sunday. I’ll get punched for saying that.
What
single thing would improve the quality of your life?
Better eyesight and a faster reading
speed. I’ve always been a slow reader, and have always suffered from
eye-strain. In a way it’s probably what made me a writer – every Friday my
mother had to take me to Moorfields Eye Hospital and as a treat we would visit
a museum or bookshop afterwards.
Which
non-crime book would you most like to have written?
Tricky one – I think ‘Titus Groan’, the
first part of Mervyn Peake’s trilogy, or Phillip Pullman’s ‘His Dark Materials’
trilogy. I may change my mind when Hilary Mantel finishes her trilogy!
Which
crime novel would you most like to have written? And why?
I regard ‘All The President’s Men’ as
the most brilliant high-stakes crime novel ever written, even though it’s true.
It has real heroes and villains. The modern novel would be AD Miller’s
‘Snowdrops’. The former is perfectly balanced reporting in a form as
enthralling as any fiction, the latter achieves something crime writers can
only strive for – successfully questioning what the nature and price of a crime
might be. Both are game changers.
Which,
of your own work to date, is the book which you consider came off best?
Although I wasn’t happy with it at the
time (and neither were my publishers, who were confused by my genre-straddling
plot) I’d have to say ‘Calabash’, the story of a boy with too much imagination.
It’s half-set in a 1970s British seaside town and half in ancient Persia. I
still love certain passages in it – it has never been reprinted, sadly.
My Review:
I have to make an admission here, I had never heard of Christopher Fowler or this wonderful series of books. I am so glad that they have now been brought to my attention.
The ageing detectives of Bryant and May are wonderfully charming and even amusing in their old style of doing things. I most definitely want to hear more about what they have been up to and will be reading the previous books in the series. I don't feel that there is a need to read the books in order though.
I have to admit to it taking me a couple of chapters to settle into the story and not being used to the quirkiness, I wondered what was going on. Once I had settled into it, it was like meeting up with old friends.
The author managed to cause my imagination to go mad, envisaging London on fire as he describes, a great deal of passion for London is present and this comes across to the reader. I found some of it to be a bit tongue in cheek but that added to the overall sense of the story.
What I love most about this book is the fact that it has the feel of an old style detective story but it somehow manages to blend with the new, this really, really works to create an amazing cast of characters that are truly unforgettable. Although my soft spot is for the wonderful Arthur Bryant, whose character was warm, mischievous and incredibly touching.
If you believe me, or even if you don't read this because I defy you not to be absorbed on the streets of London, as I was.
About the Author:
Christopher Fowler is a Londoner born (in Greenwich) and bred. For many years he jointly owned and ran one of the UK's top film marketing companies.
He is the author of many novels and short story collections, from the urban unease of cult fictions such as Roofworld and Spanky, the horror-pastiche of Hell Train to the much-praised and award-winning Bryant and May series of detective novels - and his two critically acclaimed autobiographies, Paperboy and Film Freak.
He lives in King's Cross.
Follow Christopher Fowler on Twitter - @Peculiar
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