I went into a fair bit of detail about Kerr's anti-hero, Bernhard Gunther, in my review of a previous book so I won't go crazy on this one, but here is a brief recap.
Gunther is a gumshoe in 1930s and 40s Berlin, an ex-policeman who was forced to play his part in the war but didn't enjoy it and holds no sympathy for Nazi ideals. These experiences have scarred him to a degree and he has a refreshingly honest approach to some of his clients, but it is clear that he is pretty much still a good guy.
This novel spans two time periods and settings - the pre-war tension of 30s Germany, where Gunther falls in love with a beautiful American guest while working as a hotel detective, and 50s Argentina, to which Gunther has been forced to flee under the guise of a Nazi war criminal in order to escape a trumped-up murder charge. Here he bumps into his former lover again and falls headlong back into her problems.
His escape to Argentina was set up in a previous book and the way in which Kerr's stories dovetail together show a really nice commitment to the character, while still making a great stand-alone read. Sure, there is some pretty cliched wish fulfilment going on here, such as the way in which gorgeous women fall helplessly into Gunther's bed the moment they meet him, and one twist regarding his former lover's daughter can be seen coming a mile off.
But Kerr's stories are gripping enough to keep things feeling fresh and just on the right side of cheesy, for Gunther gets involved in some pretty dark doings and confesses to feeling scared at the right moments.
In short, a brilliantly entertaining novel for fans of hardboiled detective fiction or indeed, anyone just looking for a bit of well-researched and well-written fun.
Showing posts with label philip kerr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philip kerr. Show all posts
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Review: The One From The Other by Philip Kerr
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...
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...
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