I put down ‘Broken Harbour’ by Tana French with great reluctance yesterday morning. It’s one of those books I want to keep going although the story line has played out because I want to know what happens to the characters tomorrow and beyond. 533 pages of hardback size (it seems to have arrived first as paperback) just weren’t enough. The pace set in the first paragraph never lets up; often it accelerates taking the stress up a degree with it.  It’s a straight through, linear account with very few retrospective passages except when strictly necessary to illuminate the present. This is the fourth of her crime novels I’ve read and I’m glad to see she is young because I’m hoping to read plenty more. 

The narrator is a male, Irish, detective on the Murder Squad. TF has already shown she can speak as fluently and convincingly as either male or female. She is very, very good at dialogue and doesn’t need to give her characters tics or eccentricities to make them instantly recognisable when they speak. 

Of course the detective, ‘Scorcher’ Kennedy (oddly his nickname was the only thing that didn’t ring true for me... not sure why that is.... but he isn’t often called it so it didn’t get in the way.... )  is angst-ridden and the case has a painful hook in it specially for him. Of course there is tension between him and his rookie partner Richie who needs licking into shape. Of course Kennedy has a malfunctioning family member who throws personal pain and guilt into the already exhausting and draining emotions expended on the case. Given all these ingredients that I’ve come to expect from the modern crime novel, this book still has something fresh of its own to offer in the way they are exposed bit by bit, adding to an already complex and bewildering case. TF is observant, perceptive of human nature, and very, very good with words. 

I do have the feeling that when I come to the end of one of her novels I am left hollowed out, a bit down, and in need of something sweet to eat. The next read has to be lighter. But, if I can’t take sorrow  or human frailty I’d better stop reading crime fiction. Only Reginald Hill can leave me feeling that Humour played a meaningful hand in chasing away the dark.