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Just finished the fourth in Rankin's Rebus books, "Strip Jack". I know that Rankin is one of the huge success stories in the mystery/procedrual genre, and Rebus is probably an important exemplar of the "new model" detective: saggy, depressive, drinks too much, smokes too much, can't play well with others, &c. And Rankin is also not a bad writer; he's witty, his characterization passes muster, the books present decent pictures of life in the setting without too much in the way of wallowing in the social commentary.

But I'm not really connecting to these books much, and in this particular novel, I suspect it's the plotting that's at fault.

"Strip Jack" did have a plot to be unravelled, and Rebus did at times move from stage to stage, book making almost audible clicking noises in the background as the gears advanced. But somehow there seemed a bit too much aimless thrashing about, a bit too many flattish, unsympathetic characters wrapped up in the nub of the thing. If I were Rankin's editor, I might have said to him, "Look, I see what you're getting at here, but is there a way you can maybe pare out two of these characters? Bob over here, and Shiela maybe? Do they really add anything?" It all seems a bit too messy a pottage in the end: hearty, true, but sometimes less is a wee bit more.

All the characters and cob-webby relationships careening around lead me to suspect that there's a bit of hand-waving going on in an effort to distract the reader from a storyline that seems a bit muddy and not really finely drawn. "Strip Jack" also suffers from the "seemingly unrelated strange case that is, in fact, related" device that demands to be handled with extreme care; not quite enough care in this case, I don't think.

"Strip Jack" just feels like a transitional book: it moves away from the more formulaic plots and presentation in the earlier books, but it doesn't seem to really hang together. Yes, the case gets presented, worked at, and resolved, but Rebus himself and the events in his life seem a bit aimlessly drawn: he starts in the middle of something (working out his relationship to a newly promoted colleague, and his relationship with his current romantic partner), and ends without much decision or resolution in that regard.

There's a strong feeling of "tune in next week" under-riding the interior life of the people in "Strip Jack"; sometimes that can be an inducement to rush out and consume the next instalment. But sometimes, it can leave the consumption of the current narrative feeling a bit hollow.

On balance, good, and recommended if you like this kind of thing, but probably only if you are in the process of reading more than one of Rankin's books. If you're just picking one up to sample, or on a lark, I'm not sure I'd recommend this as the one to start with.

Date: 2009-11-17 20:10 (UTC)
From: [identity profile] waiwode.livejournal.com
I have avoided the pitfalls of the earlier Rebus books by (accidentally, at first) reading them in reverse order. This is certainly not my normal approach to a series, but it seems to have worked for the two or three I have read. Don't know if I'll go back for more, but Mystery is a genre that only rarely catches my attention.

Doug.

Date: 2009-11-17 20:29 (UTC)
From: [identity profile] viktor-haag.livejournal.com
I have neuroses in place that rather firmly stand in the way of me consuming books in other than publication order. I like to consume works in the order that the author wrote them. In some cases publication order and authorship order are not the same, but one can only be so obsessive.

As I grow older, I find myself more and more settling on mysteries/procedurals as a genre I regularly enjoy and consume, and less and less on F&SF, a genre which I once thought was favoured but have perhaps come to realize I have limited patience for. I also notice that my taste for country music is growing and I wonder if this is all part of aging...8P

Date: 2009-11-17 20:46 (UTC)
From: [identity profile] waiwode.livejournal.com
My first Rebus book (the last) was to remedy a "Reading Plan Disaster" -- I found myself "in the country" in another country with a lot of time on my hands and fresh out of books. The book carrel in the local store had a distressing collection of romance novels (thin and thick) and two or three mysteries. The Ian Rankin cover sort of grabbed me, so there I was. Reading the last book while sitting on sand dunes and relaxing.

Although I share your neurosis, for the most part, progressing backwards in order seems like the only way forward here. If you know what I mean.

Doug.

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