Did the Ancient Romans Have Posh British Accents? From James W. Ziskin

Do books get lost in translation? What are some non-English novels you love and are there any that didn’t work over the cultural divide? 

I’ll veer slightly off topic this week since I don’t read a lot of works in translation. I did, however, do my graduate work in Romance languages, which means that I read a lot of novels in the original French, Italian, and Spanish. Everything from Elsa Morante to Manzoni to Stendhal and Sartre. And while I have read many European books in translation, I wouldn’t know if anything was lost in translation if I didn’t read the originals. Makes sense, right?

More recently, within our genre, I’ve read Scandinavian authors such as Stieg Larsson, Jo Nesbø, Ragnar Jónasson, Arnaldur Indriðason, and Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, but since I don’t speak Norwegian, Swedish, or Icelandic, I wouldn’t know if the translations were lacking in any way. I have a sense, however, that Nordic languages translate more easily into English than, say, Italian. Maybe it’s because English and the Scandis all sit on the Germanic branches of the Indo-European family tree of languages and are more closely related to each other than to the Romance languages. While it’s true that English enjoys a rich French legacy—about thirty percent of our words—thanks to those conquering Normans, our language shares fewer of the grammatical and lexical similarities that French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese do with each other.

Laurence Olivier

So, in movies, a British accent always sounds believable coming from a German or Swedish character. On the other hand, how many Italian characters speak with the clipped precision of Received Pronunciation? The exception here, of course, is the Ancient Romans. In film, they all speak like John Gielgud, Ralph Richardson, or Laurence Olivier, and we like that.

Franco Nero

Rossano Brazzi

Louis Jourdan

Anthony Quinn

But if we’re talking French characters, they’re usually Americans parroting—how you say—zee phony accents. Unless they’re Louis Jourdan, Charles Boyer, or Maurice Chevalier. Maybe Jean Reno more recently. And Italians? Back in the 1950s and 1960s, it was undoubtedly Rossano Brazzi or Franco Nero playing the handsome Italian in American movies. Those two also played Frenchmen in a pinch, but never with a posh English accent. And, if we wanted a good-ol’ American to play a Mexican, Greek, or Italian, well, there was always Anthony Quinn. Hell, even Fellini cast Quinn as an Italian in La strada. Okay, Quinn was born in Mexico, so he’s in the same boat as Brazzi and Nero playing Frenchmen. My point, I suppose, is that those guys were Latin types, not British, and, as such, somewhat interchangeable by Hollywood standards. Just as Brits and Ancient Romans are.

But back to books. Which foreign language mysteries do I enjoy reading? I confess to a cultural bias, having read mostly Western European authors. I love Georges Simenon’s Maigret novels, Andrea Camilleri’s Inspector Montalbano, and Eco’s The Name of the Rose, which is one of the greatest crime novels of all time (in my opinion, at least.) I also recommend Ilaria Tuti, alongside whom I was a finalist for the Sue Grafton Memorial Award in 2021. Alas, neither of us took home the hardware. That went to Rosalie Knecht. Right now, I happen to be reading Fred Vargas’s Pars vite et reviens tard. Super!

I suppose I need to branch out and read more broadly. Please post some suggestions in the comments below.

The Top Shelf

We keep writing new books, but there are so many classics out there. What are the crime fiction classics you think every writer should read?

by Dietrich

I think it’s subjective, and we’ve all got our own favorites, but there are crime-fiction classics that I’ve enjoyed reading, then rereading and some of these novels remain among my favorites. While some of the authors are long gone — Elmore Leonard, George V Higgins, Charles Willeford, and James Crumley, Sue Grafton and Agatha Christie — their novels live on in classics like Freaky Deaky, The Friends of Eddie Coyle, Miami Blues, The Last Good Kiss, A is for Alibi, And Then There Were None — all of them deserving that top shelf. 

And there are many talented writers with new releases that are sure to become tomorrow’s classics.

After reading Don Winslow’s latest, City in Ruins, the third installment in the Danny Ryan series, it’s a good feeling knowing Winslow’s in fine form and going strong. It would be hard to pick a favorite among his novels, but The Winter of Frankie Machine does stand out for me, and it’s one I highly recommend. It’s about a retired hitman who has a botched attempt put on his own life, and he sets out to find his would-be killer and turn the tables.

James Lee Burke – The Neon Rain was the first in the Dave Robicheaux series, another classic and another great series, right up to his latest and 24th in the series, Clete, which currently sits on top of my reading stack. The tale’s told from the perspective of Dave’s partner Clete as the two of them aim to stop a gang of ruthless drug smugglers.

Karin Slaughter’s This is Why We Lied is the latest in her Will Trent and Sara Linton series. It’s a locked-room mystery of the first order that kept me turning the pages. Excellent writing that’s sure to become a classic series. 

Mick Herron — From the first in his Slough House series, Slow Horses, Herron had me hooked on this bunch of washed-up MI5 spies whiling away what’s left of their failed careers. Book 8 in the series is Bad Actors, in which Jackson Lamb and his slow horses are called on once more to do what they do best, adding chaos to an unstable situation. There’s also a collection of novellas set in the Slow Horses universe titled Standing by the Wall, which I’m looking forward to reading.

James Sallis’s Lew Griffin novels are top-notch reading. The series started with The Long-legged Fly (1992) ending with the seventh, Ghost of a Flea (2001). Lew’s a boozy, jaded, cynical black private detective on a missing person’s case on the mean streets of New Orleans in the 60s. It’s first-rate detective fiction that’s loaded with great characters and fabulous dialogue.

Daniel Woodrell’s Under the Bright Lights was the first in his The Bayou Trilogy and one I thoroughly enjoyed. It’s fast-paced and hard-hitting, and when you read it, you’re sure to go on to Muscle for the Wing and The Ones You Do — another highly recommended series.

Not Lost in Translation

Do books get lost in translation? What are some non-English novels you love and are there any that didn’t work over the cultural divide?

Brenda here

This week's question has me thinking. I'm certain that I've read many non-English, translated novels over my lifetime, but the first ones that come to mind are Swedish or Scandinavian mysteries. I've read most of Liza Marklund's Annika Bengtzon series, and Stieg Larsson's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series, amongst others. I've judged some translated passages to read awkwardly, but this has never been a major concern as long as the story flows.

Then there are the South African (Afrikaans) books by Deon Meyer that I've read and enjoyed in translation. His Benny Griessel series is terrific. 

I've, of course, read other translated books, although none immediately pops into my head. I guess that means the translation was good enough not to bother me. As when I watch a foreign film with English subtitles, I get into the rhythm of the text and genre and don't get bogged down by errors as long as the sense of the piece or dialogue isn't lost. The word choices can be charming at times.

I studied French in high school and throughout my government job (even going on French-language training full-time for a year), and know first-hand how difficult it can be to find the word with the exact same meaning in another language. There are often cultural nuances that cannot be dismissed. And let's face it, the English language is a nightmare. (There, their, they're. Double/triple meanings. Slang....)

My view is that translated works can enrich and broaden our own lives - a kind of journey into someone else's world without the need to leave home. Whatever helps to build greater empathy and to bridge commonalities in the human condition is a wonderful thing. Learning about other countries and cultures by way of translated stories, mais c'est magnifique!

And to all my Canadian readers:

website: www.brendachapman.ca

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10 Books Every Crime Writer Needs to Read, or a Quick Guide to Hard Boiled, by Josh Stallings

Q: We keep writing new books, but there are so many classics out there. What are the crime fiction classics you think every writer should read?

A: The longer I’m on this planet, the less I get what is and isn’t a classic. Dylan enjoys listening to Classic Rock when we’re driving, I do too. My problem is, when they play a band from 2014. I think Classic? Really. A classic car show featured a DeLorean. The Go-Go’s are a staple of classic rock radio. I love the Go-Go’s, but their music is only two years older than my favorite coke filled douchemobile. Can they both be classics, or is the term “classic” flexible, meaning  a certain age, that changes with what you’re referring to? Or is it a value judgement, i.e. Classic is what I like, what I believe will stand the test of time.

I’ll go with ten foundational novels that helped me discover or improve my love of crime fiction. To do this, I’ll break them down like a Venn diagram into sub-genres that all overlap in the larger genre of crime fiction. 

Hard-boiled

Here’s a quote that captures the hard-boiled point of view; 

“I see the world through jaded eyes covered by rose colored glasses.”— All the Wild Children by Josh Stallings.

Here are four foundational hard-boiled novels:

#1 The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler, is where I discovered hard-boiled. Witty and tough. Philip Marlow was the original knight in tarnished armor. Chandler cares more about character than buttoning up every plot point. If you love puzzle mysteries, he might drive you mad.

#2 Cotton Comes to Harlem, by Chester Himes. I could have picked any of the "Grave Digger" Jones and "Coffin Ed" Johnson books, but this is the first one I read, so it remains my favorite. The names Himes gave his detectives are two of the best character names in crime fiction. Because they are police, this also fits into Police Procedural. Himes' exploration of racism and black on black crime could label this as Social Commentary. But its tone is pure hard-boiled.

#3 Devil in a Red Dress, by Walter Mosley. First of the long running Easy Rawlins series. Easy is a school janitor and amateur detective. He also collects emotionally lost kids and builds a family over the series. They are quintessential LA novels, set in Watts over multiple decades. He shows us an LA Chandler never saw. 

#4 Dancing Bear, by James Crumley, could’ve been Hunter S Thompson and Raymond Chandler’s booze soaked collaboration. Yes, it has sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. Brilliant similes describe a painfully harsh but romantic world view. Dancing Bear is the best hard-boiled novel ever written. It says the world is a rotten and mean place, but it is still worth saving. Reading it as a young thuggish man, I thought even I, with all my flaws and scars, could be the one to save someone or something.

Country Noir

#5 Tomato Red, by Daniel Woodrell. Fuck J.D. Vance and his condescending Hillbilly Elegy. If you want to read about hard scrabble hill folk from a writer that knows and more importantly loves them, read Daniel Woodrell. Winter’s Bone is equally fine. Hell any Woodrell is great reading. Tomato Red just grabbed me harder than the rest. 

#6 No Country for Old Men, by Cormac McCarthy. My Love affair with McCarthy started with the border trilogy, amazing books. But No Country sticks in my mind like a fishhook.

Latin American Hard-Boiled 

#7 An Easy Thing, by Paco Ignacio Taibo II. This is the first in the Héctor Belascoarán Shayne detective series. Actually it is the second, but Días de Combate has not been translated into English. Which is a bloody shame. Taibo reads like stream-of-consciousness word jazz. He plays out in the realm of absurdists and surrealists while adhering to the hard-boiled genre close enough to keep my heart pumping a staccato rhythm.

#8 Death in the Andes, by Mario Vargas Llosa. Magical realism kicks hard-boiled in the nuts. Hard-boiled goes down to one knee but comes back swinging. Mario Vargas Llosa is a Nobel Prize-winning Peruvian author. After finishing Death in the Andes I flew through most of his English translated books.

#9 Dark Echoes of the Past, by Ramón Díaz Eterovic. Chilean P.I. Heredia investigates a murder with links back to political prisoners held, tortured, and disappeared during the time of dictator Augusto Pinochet. Eterovic mixes wry humor with horror and heartbreak delivering one stunning cocktail.

Epic Crime Fiction

Mario Puzo’s The Godfather books should dominate this sub-genre. But I’m not sure I ever read them. I saw the films enough times to think I read them. Fifth grade, a kid stole a copy of Godfather from his parents and read to me and three other boys, the sex scene from the wedding. Wow. That’s all I remember, wow. So as my foundational work, let me present:

#10 Cartel trilogy by Don Winslow. Power of the Dog was published in 2005, Cartel in 2015, and The Border in 2019. By any standard, does that make it a classic trilogy? Hell yes, by my standard. Fanatically researched, it tells the tale of the growth of the Mexican cartels from multiple POVs, DEA agents, cartel members, Irish hitmen, Mexican journalists, doctors. Readers gain a deep view of the war on drugs being fought on the Mexican border. It is also one of the finest examples of multi story line novels I have ever read. I’m following Callan, a young Irish hit-man, and just when I’m wondering what happed to Adán Barrera’s story line, it arrives. It is as violent and hard as the world it’s set in. Never gratuitous, it is nuanced, and willing to challenge the readers’ ideas of the border. Just stunning, must read for writers and readers alike. 

I’ll leave you with this quote:

“The central question of crime fiction is how do you live decently in an indecent world.”

— Don Winslow 

What am I reading today:

Finished, We Will Be Jaguars: A Memoir of My People, by Nemonte Nenquimo, Mitch Anderson. Nemonte Nenquimo Indigenous activist, author and leader of the Waorani Nation in the Ecuadorian Amazon basin. How she got from a jungle girl who wanted to be white like the missionary’s daughter to a powerful force uniting multiple indigenous factions in a battle against big oil’s destruction of their homes is miraculous. And a damn fine read.

Still reading, Creation Lake, by Rachel Kushner. If you aren’t reading Kushner, get to it.

Six of One and Half a Dozen of the Other, by Catriona

 Name crime-fiction classics/authors you think everybody should read.

I will, I will. But first I'm going to name six crime-fiction authors I've never read. It's good for the soul. Ahem. I have never read a single word of:

• Edgar Alan Poe (unless we read a short story at school and I've forgotten)
• Dashiel Hammett
• Wilkie Collins
• Patricia Highsmith
• Georges Simenon
• Rex Stout (in fact, for a long time I wasn't sure if he was the author or the character)

Right then. I think - although given what I've just revealed, who cares what I think - everyone should read:

1. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (1926) and The ABC Murders (1936), by Agatha Christie.

They're both rattling good yarns, so no one's ever going to be sorry, but there's another reason too, for budding crime writers [SPOILER ALERT]: one is a masterclass - and possibly the first example of - the faux-serial-killer plot; the other is a masterclass - and almost definitely the first example of - the unreliable narrator. 

These two tropes are still being used today, and so they should be. (If you don't want to play the game, write something else!) But no one wants to be the new crime writer who gives their genius plot a drumroll, believing they made it up, because they've never read the Dame. 

(Pause to fret that my new book might be an innocent rip-off of a Rex Stout . . .)

2. The Tiger in the Smoke (1952), Margery Allingham. 

Okay, the plot is bonkers (an Allingham speciality that reaches its zenith in The Beckoning Lady) but the atmosphere is immersive and unsettling, the pace is impeccable and the range of characters is joyous: there's a criminal gang with a leadership struggle going on; a war hero who might not have died in battle after all; a lone figure standing in the face of evil; a loan shark straight out of Dickens. And there's London. This of all Allingham's books is a love letter to London, in all its grubby, grasping, foggy glory.

 

3. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1974), by John Le Carre. 

Speaking of grubby fog . . . I swithered back and forth between this and The Spy Who Came in from the Cold but I've only read that once, whereas I could be persuaded to re-read Tinker... on any given day. George Smiley - possibly the most ironically-named character in literature - is disappointed, morose, disillusioned (if he was ever illusioned), but not quite cynical as he trudges through the dregs of post-WWII peace into the Cold War. Is he the first of those broken men who still do good, as he sees it? Could be. Certainly he's the father of the slow horses in Mick Herron's books. And, for me, he's the antidote to James Bond. If I was on a first date and I found out the guy thought more highly of Bond than of Smiley, I'd be out of there as if he'd just snapped at the server.

This isn't relevant but I think it's funny. On a panel one time, we were musing about whether there could be a cozy version of any crime-fiction sub-genre. We didn't come to a decision, but it was agreed that a cozy spy thriller needed to be called Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Fudge.

4. A Dark-Adapted Eye, (1986) Ruth Rendell writing as Barabara Vine.

Was this the book that started psychological thrillers? Not even close. Even Rendell herself had been climbing inside desperate people and watching as their obsessions break them for ages by the time she branched out as Vine. (Make Death Love Me, from 1979, is still worth a read.) But it's impossble to deny that she knew she was doing something different again with this one. She made no attempt to hide the fact that Vine was Rendell, for one thing, so why the pseudonym? I think there's an argument to be made (and struck down, by all means) that this book was the beginning of domestic noir. The Vine books are about families and secrets and shame. A Dark-Adapted Eye was certainly the first time I, as a reader, came across that grimly claustrophobic world of dependence and dysfunction where I so love to be.

5. That Affair Next Door, (1897) Anna Katherine Green 

The Leavenworth Case (1878) is Green's most famous novel (although not famous enough when you consider that date and reflect on the fact that Arthur Conan Doyle's first Holmes story was published in 1886. I'm. Just. Sayin'). But I picked That Affair ... because in it, we get an introduction to a very familiar character: Miss Amelia Butterworth, a single lady of a certain age, whose nosiness is rewarded when her neighbour gets murdered. The police are called in, of course, but does Miss Butterworth leave it to them? Pfft. 

Also, That Affair ... is the first of the Library of Congress classic crime re-issues, which gives me an excuse to share the photo I took there last Friday.

6. The Tragedie of Macbeth, (c.1606) William Shakespeare

Don't you hate it when people are talking about crime fiction and they bring up Shakespeare or Dickens or episodes of Seinfeld? Sorry, but in this case it's undeniable. It's ripped from the headlines, or at least from a recently published account of true events, if Raphael Holinshed's Chronicles (1587) count as recent. And back then, I think they would have. It's got a murder that causes more murders as the plan falls apart - a crime plot that's still with us. It's noir to the bone - no happy endings for anyone. And if I had tried to say Ruth Rendell invented the psychological thriller, I'd have to go back and delete it now, because come on! Ambition that leads to corruption that leads to paranoia that leads to psychosis that leads to destruction, all in a seething cauldron of love, betrayal and bitterness with no escape? Chef's kiss, no?

I realise that all I've done is argue that Macbeth is crime fiction, rather than explain why anyone should read - or ideally see - it. So here goes. If someone who's been nominated for an Edgar but never read Poe has any standing at all, I put it to you that everyone should see some Shakespeare. And Macbeth is . . . wait for it . . . short.

Cx

  

Does how influence what? by Eric Beetner

 As fall arrives it brings visions of sitting in a cozy corner with a hot cocoa reading in quiet solitude. Most of us don’t have that luxury of time to sit and read for hours uninterrupted. Does how you read (where, length of time) affect what you read? 

I’ve long wondered if how I read makes an impact on what I like to read. I do think the short snatches of time I have to read makes a difference. There is a reason, beyond my own impatience, that I don’t do well with 1000 page doorstop books. I don’t like being tied up to one novel for months if I only have a short time to read each day.

Before the pandemic shifted me to working from home, I had a nice routine of reading on my lunch break. I’d go out and sit quietly and get an hour of reading in. Sure, people looked at me like I was sad and lonely, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. For an hour each day, a tight thriller was perfect. A vintage paperback that clocks in at 150 pages made for ideal lunch break reading. Short chapters made it so I never had to leave off in the middle of something to make it back to work. My reading really was predicated on the time in which I could make it happen.

I work from home now and subsequently my day is less structured. You’d think it would make room for more reading time, but usually when I’m not at my desk I’m doing housework, walking dogs, making meals. Somehow the time fills up. Plus, I have lunch with my wife most days so we talk and interact like real humans. I don’t think she’d like it if I pulled out a book and went quiet on her.

So my reading time is even in shorter bursts now. Before bedtime when I’m likely to fall asleep mid-chapter. When I just need a 30 minute break from work to recharge or get my mind on other things. Yes, bathroom breaks make for good reading time and I’d bet 50% of all reading takes place there, even if authors don’t want to admit that.

So still I prefer shorter books, propulsive plots, quick chapters. 

When I get a cross-country plane ride I can luxuriate in a book and I’ve even finished entire books on long haul flights. I’ve enjoyed the few times I’ve read a book in one or two sittings. It’s just not my day-to-day reality. 

I don’t think it has an impact on the genre. I can read across genres in my style of reading. Still doesn’t mean I’m likely to pick up Infinite Jest or Ulysses anytime soon. My preferred genres of crime fiction, thrillers, and westerns naturally have tighter plotting, faster moving storylines. If I only get an hour a day max, I need a book to kick off quickly. I remember when The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo was all the rage and multiple people commented, “The first 100 pages or so if a bit of a slog, but then it really picks up.” Yeah, no. I’m out. No can do. Hook me fast, keep me engaged.

When I see people reading on the subway, at a bus stop, on a park bench, I think they might have the same reading habits as me. Stolen moments of time when a book is welcome companion and a respite from scrolling on the phone. Quite often, those people are reading thrillers or mysteries. 

Any time we go to conferences it becomes apparent that the median age of readers is on the higher side and you can safely say that retirees have more time to read. They are more likely to burn through a book in an afternoon than someone trying to juggle work, family, commuting, pets, etc. 

I admire readers who will dive into a 700-page epic fantasy that is book one of a six book series. That’s commitment. Maybe when I’m retired. Maybe that’s when it will change what I write as well.

Classics in the Key of See

 

Name crime fiction classics/authors you think everybody should read.

 

This is the type of question I know invites regret. I’ll couch my response with one caveat and one suggestion. The caveat here is that, while literary taste is not static, I discuss titles here that I return to again and again, albeit for different reasons. The suggestion is to decide for yourself whether to visit them as a writer, as a reader, or both.

 

It’s impossible not to acknowledge the Trinity of Crime Fiction: Cain, Chandler, and Christie. I mean no disrespect to Hammett, since I was going for alliteration and I view Hammett as the darker side of the coin of the same PI tropes found in Chandler. Put another way: think of Hammett as being to Hemingway as Chandler is to F. Scott Fitzgerald. It’s also important to read those two writers to become aware of the dangers of influence. Chandler’s similes when they were good, they were a chef’s kiss, but when they were overdone, they reeked like a dead banana. Likewise, Hammett—to paraphrase Faulkner on Hem— won’t use words that will send you to the dictionary.

 

Oh, and speaking of Fitzgerald, I might be one of those weirdos who read The Great Gatsby as a mystery. Who killed Gatsby? Who killed Myrtle Wilson? The image of Gatsby dead in his swimming pool reminds me of the dead Joe Gillis in the movie Sunset Boulevard.

 

Christie has sold almost as many books as God.  Not blasphemy—only the Bible outsells the Dame. I cut my teeth on her mysteries, binging through them, at the behest of a teacher. I suggest reading And Then There Were None and contrasting it with Yukito Ayatsuji’s The Decagon House Murders.

 

James M. Cain’s Double Indemnity is a masterclass in concise prose, pacing, and pitch-perfect dialogue. It foreshadows George V. Higgins and his The Friends of Eddie Coyle, and almost all of Elmore Leonard.

 

There have been trends in crime fiction. I’m not a fan of the serial killer or vigilante genres, but I do recommend Thomas Harris’s Silence of the Lambs because it offers creepy characterization, in the same way Patricia Highsmith paints in Ripley’s sociopathy one stroke at a time.

 

There are the supernovae that can’t be avoided: the first of the firsts. Walter Mosley’s Easy Rawlins series; Chester Himes’s Harlem series; Eleanor Taylor Bland; Sara Paretsky’s V. I. Warshawski; and Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone series. Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca and Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. Both Michael Nava’s Henry Rios series and Joseph Hansen’s Brandstetter mysteries present the gay male as a protagonist and not as criminals.

 

If you want to read Los Angeles as a survey of city and crime then read in order: Chandler, Ellroy, and Hansen.

 

Let’s hear it for humor, which I find difficult to write well. Check out Charles Willeford and Carl Hiaasen.

 

For fans who like what I call the Crossover, that mix of mystery with splashes of any or all of the above: horror, history, and romance.

 

A.S. Byatt’s Possession.

Stephen King’s Mr. Mercedes.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón’s Shadow of the Wind.

Umberto Eco’s Name of the Rose.

 

Perhaps next time, I’ll offer a list of mysteries in translation, which are worth reading for their different cultural attitudes and legal systems.

Writers are the Best Teachers

 Q: We keep writing new books, but there are so many classics out there. What are the crime fiction classics you think every writer should read?

from Susan

 

What a good question! Note the focus is on what writers should be sure and read, not what readers may relish most, and that’s a distinction with a difference. As readers, we sometimes settle into books that may not be great as examples of elegant, articulate, and brilliant, but which give us immense pleasure anyway. 

 

For me, one example of pleasure first is the entire catalog of Rex Stout Nero Wolfe mysteries. My New York City isn’t his, but I’m a native and visiting an older version of Manhattan and environs is never going to disappoint. Some of the plots are terrific and I wouldn’t know who did the deed if I hadn’t read the book a few times. But are they strong enough to help writers? Maybe not in 2024. Probably the same answer for Agatha Christie’s best novels, too.

 

Sara Paretsky’s series, especially the earlier ones, hits the mark for me. She has created a strongly individual protagonist in V.I. Warshawski with well-defined strengths and vulnerabilities and an unyielding moral code that propels her forward logically in her pursuit of wrongdoers. Paretsky has found a way to confront venality and greed that escapes preaching, makes the most of surprises, and has plenty of tension. I think her body of work is a classic in the genre.

 

Walter Mosley is another writer worthy of being a model of the best kind of writing. In his characters and their language, he embraces and invites readers into an expanded relationship with cultures beyond what they may have known. Again, no preaching, just exciting prose, ways to identify with his protagonists, colorfully written environments, danger that takes our breath away, and crimes that beg our attention. He set high standards that writers are still studying.

 

Georges Simenon mastered the art of an internally-focused examination of crime from the perspective of the investigator, nuanced and flawed. Sometime the result was creepy, sometimes dark, but to me his work -stripped of sentimentality and of the charm readers like -  insisted that I acknowledge cruelty and the possibility of justice and or redemption. Never a light read but one that stuck with me. I’ve only read his novels in translation and perhaps because his work is better known to French readers, he may not be considered in this country to be a classic.

 

There are other writers who I think provide excellent models for writers for one or more reasons. Jacqueline Winspearso totally and believably embraces wartime England’s terrible struggles that her individual books resonate, and her series is completely interconnected and engaging. Donna Leon built a world for her Venetian policeman that has held up though a series of novels and that includes fine secondary characters who are woven into every part of the stories focused on the kinds of business and corporate crimes we too often look past. John LeCarre is almost beyond overstating as the spy novelist of greatest distinction, his only rival in my mind the brilliant Martin Cruz Smith. Both writers created protagonists who can amply shoulder the burden of dealing with the intimate, corrupt world of government without control or conscience.

 

There are other classic crime writers my Minds colleagues will spotlight, and I know I have overlooked some I haven’t read enough of or just didn’t respond to as a writer. The treasures of crime fiction are many and varied as are the writers who plumb good writing for inspiration. And that’s as it should be.

Not to claim anything like comparative status, but here are a couple of my recent in-print books and I need to add I'd be so happy if more people considered buying one!

 

It's (lit) festival time! - By Harini Nagendra

As we face the last few months of 2024, any events, projects or releases planned to end the year?

Why yes! I'm absolutely thrilled to be doing not one or two, but three events this year to celebrate the Bangalore Detectives Club series, in particular the latest book (book 3), A Nest of Vipers

First, the Surrey International Writer's Conference, where I'm joining online from Bangalore, to teach three workshops

• Building a Strong Sense of Place |  5:30-8:30pm Wednesday Oct 23, 2024
• Research for Historical Fiction |  4:15pm - 5:30pm Friday Oct 25, 2024
• Writing Social Issues Without Being Preachy |  4:15pm - 5:30pm Friday Oct 25, 2024

• Second, I'll be in New York in November, at the Indo-American Arts Council Literature Festival 2024, 9-10 November - save the date!

• 
  

• I'd love to see you if you're in NY or nearby!

And finally, the third event, in my home town, beautiful Bangalore, where the Bangalore Detectives Club is set, 13-14 December

Bangalore Literature Festival | Where Words Matter | 13th Edition | 2024

Save the dates - and let me know if you're in the vicinity. What a fun way to end the year.