Recently read: The Abominable Man

I've just finished the seventh in Sjöwall and Wahlöö's The Story of a Crime series (police procedurals featuring Martin Beck and his confederates). This book makes quite a change of pace from all its predecessors: as a mystery it lacks depth, as a procedural, it lacks detail of process. What's out front (and common to the rest of the books in the series) is the social commentary, the quietly thoughtful depiction of character, and the wonderful pacing and observational attention of the narrative.

It's probably good that "The Abominable Man" sits in the series where it does. It's already been supported by six books that demonstrate an attention to crime solving and police process, and is followed by, perhaps, the most traditional "mystery" of the entire series (or at least the first eight books, which are what I've read to date), "The Locked Room". The book also provides perhaps the critical crisis point of Beck's life, reading the series as a serial narrative: Beck has firmly separated from his wife (this comes as a relief to the reader after the painful attention to the suggestions of a marriage in disintegration in the first books of the series) and has comfortably settled into the pinnacle of his professional life. He has even started to take a more balanced view of his confederates, as he spends most of the book working with a man he has had very little respect for in the past.

There's a small amount of legwork for the police to figure out what's going on, but really, it's the events that drive them and not the other way around, and thus the whole book is about police reaction to their surroundings, for better or for worse. By the end of the book, Beck endures a profound shock that will set him up firmly for the events in "The Locked Room" (wherein he actively begins the slow process of recuperation and discovers some small amount of joy in the process).

"The Abominable Man" certainly doesn't dip in strength, and contributes well to the over-arching project explored in this series of ten books. It's subject matter and detail might seem a bit worn these days (police brutality and corruption), but as with the other books, the strength of the writing revealed through the character construction and depiction of life in late-to-post sixties Stockholm, and it probably pays to remember that it was published in 1971, perhaps a bit before the topic became de rigeur in Western pop-culture.

On the other hand, oddly, although the story is very self-contained with no more tie to the details from books before and after than any of the others in the series (and less than some), "The Abominable Man" is probably not a great recommendation to be read in isolation. Most of its strength comes from reading it as a part of the larger structure of "The Story of a Crime": it shines as a moment of counter-point and perhaps even a bit of a fulcrum for all the characters in the series.

If you're as taken with the series as I have been, then you won't be disappointed with this entry. But if you're just looking for a place to dive in, or want to try just one out of the series, this is not the book: if that's what you're after, I'd recommend "Roseanna", "The Laughing Policeman", or "The Locked Room", most strongly "Roseanna" because this series really is intended to be read from the start.

Recently read: The Abominable Man

I've just finished the seventh in Sjöwall and Wahlöö's The Story of a Crime series (police procedurals featuring Martin Beck and his confederates). This book makes quite a change of pace from all its predecessors: as a mystery it lacks depth, as a procedural, it lacks detail of process. What's out front (and common to the rest of the books in the series) is the social commentary, the quietly thoughtful depiction of character, and the wonderful pacing and observational attention of the narrative.

It's probably good that "The Abominable Man" sits in the series where it does. It's already been supported by six books that demonstrate an attention to crime solving and police process, and is followed by, perhaps, the most traditional "mystery" of the entire series (or at least the first eight books, which are what I've read to date), "The Locked Room". The book also provides perhaps the critical crisis point of Beck's life, reading the series as a serial narrative: Beck has firmly separated from his wife (this comes as a relief to the reader after the painful attention to the suggestions of a marriage in disintegration in the first books of the series) and has comfortably settled into the pinnacle of his professional life. He has even started to take a more balanced view of his confederates, as he spends most of the book working with a man he has had very little respect for in the past.

There's a small amount of legwork for the police to figure out what's going on, but really, it's the events that drive them and not the other way around, and thus the whole book is about police reaction to their surroundings, for better or for worse. By the end of the book, Beck endures a profound shock that will set him up firmly for the events in "The Locked Room" (wherein he actively begins the slow process of recuperation and discovers some small amount of joy in the process).

"The Abominable Man" certainly doesn't dip in strength, and contributes well to the over-arching project explored in this series of ten books. It's subject matter and detail might seem a bit worn these days (police brutality and corruption), but as with the other books, the strength of the writing revealed through the character construction and depiction of life in late-to-post sixties Stockholm, and it probably pays to remember that it was published in 1971, perhaps a bit before the topic became de rigeur in Western pop-culture.

On the other hand, oddly, although the story is very self-contained with no more tie to the details from books before and after than any of the others in the series (and less than some), "The Abominable Man" is probably not a great recommendation to be read in isolation. Most of its strength comes from reading it as a part of the larger structure of "The Story of a Crime": it shines as a moment of counter-point and perhaps even a bit of a fulcrum for all the characters in the series.

If you're as taken with the series as I have been, then you won't be disappointed with this entry. But if you're just looking for a place to dive in, or want to try just one out of the series, this is not the book: if that's what you're after, I'd recommend "Roseanna", "The Laughing Policeman", or "The Locked Room", most strongly "Roseanna" because this series really is intended to be read from the start.