Generally, I'm not a great reader of the crime genre. There's something about endless murders, maverick coppers and the constant one-upmanship of crime authors trying to create the most gruesomely televisual demises which does very little to whet my literary appetite.
But a recent change in my financial circumstances has led me to curb my spending on new novels and forced me to skulk back to the bookcase, in search of all those books I haven't yet read. The unappreciated gifts, the unfinished snooze-fests, the ones I'd been lent without asking and wished my benefactor had not been so kind.
One such book was a freebie that came with a loyalty cardholder's magazine published by a well-known high street book emporium. Small, lightweight and bendy, The One From The Other looked like cheap pulp fiction. And just like that much-maligned genre, it was bloody entertaining.
If I do read crime fiction, I want it to have a little something that distinguishes it from the rafts of contemporary adventures in gritty murder that practically block out the sun on the literary horizon these days. And in this aspect too, Kerr's novels score highly with their period setting.
Set in 1940s Berlin, the story stars hard-bitten German private detective Bernie Gunther and the dialogue crackles with his cynical witticisms. Described by many critics as Raymond Chandler-esque, Kerr's writing is actually different from that - set against the backdrop of a war-ravaged Germany and the lingering hangover of Nazism, the all-too-real cruelty and fear that had terrorised the country just a couple of years earlier adds a real edge to the action. As a non-Nazi who has seen his country go to the dogs and been forced to bear it if he wants to hold onto his skin, Gunther has more to be cynical about than the average New Yoik gumshoe.
Gunther is a compelling lead character, smart and witty yet with a callous streak that gives him a Jack Bauer-type quality of unsettling ruthlessness. Dripping with period detail and Kerr's intimate research, right down to the brand of shoes worn by the protagonist, the story is a really gripping and entertaining ride, boasting a humour and film noir flair that lifts it above the norm.
I enjoyed The One From The Other so much that I reached into my increasingly shallow pocket and am currently devouring one of Kerr's earlier Gunther novels, which is set in the 30s and gives a terrifying take on pre-war Germany as Hitler makes his sickening rise to notoriety.
Based on these first two brushes with Kerr's work, I can confidently predict that he will become one of the few authors whose entire canon will grace my cheap Ikea book shelves in time. Just as soon as I can drag myself out of the gutter and back to the book shop...
