I had a clear sense of the cinematic as I read this book. Testament to the skill of the writer to describe and detail both events and surroundings with such palpability. And whilst it sounds like a paradox to describe a thriller as poetic Black River is exactly that.
Set in Teetarpur, a village in India a few miles from Delhi, the novel examines the police investigation of a child’s murder amidst a backdrop of simmering religious tension between Hindus and Muslims. If that sounds like a relatively straightforward premise, then don’t be fooled for there’s a pleasing complexity to the book that delves back into the past of the murdered child’s father, Chand, and the friends and family who populate his world. It’s an intelligent crime novel that allows the reader to dig beneath the surface and consider other matters alongside the offence. It’s very well balanced.
Chand impresses as a man of dignity and integrity. He is loyal and self effacing. And we learn a lot of this as we read about his past. It draws the reader to him and we grieve along with him for the daughter he loves and has lost. The policeman, Ombir, is another character we warm to because we believe that he is on the side of good, the side of justice, as far as he is able within the somewhat limited resources that he has to work with. He, too, has his own story.
The novel is culturally rich and a modern India is presented to the reader; the contrast of the quiet village of Teetarpur with the overcrowded Delhi are both resplendent with the sights and sounds of the country. As you read you are there with Chand on his journey and with Ombir, the policeman, as he puzzles out this jigsaw he’s required to piece together.
I have to smugly say that I did figure out who the perpetrator was. I say smug, but maybe I’m a little premature? For I often wonder whether writers of crime and thriller fiction, after laying out their clues, expect the reader to figure out the perp? I guess I would call myself an experienced reader of crime novels! And one thing I’ve learnt is that you know that one of the characters offered to you in the narrative will be the perpetrator. But is it up to the writer as to how easy or difficult they make it for the reader to figure it out or is it up to the reader to unravel the clues?
I also found it interesting that the opening of the novel was fleshed out in a way that the prologues of many crimes and thrillers aren’t. They offer the barest bones and are often enigmatic. But here we are totally engaged with Munia which engages our emotions and anger at the crime more emphatically.
The police procedural side of the book is fascinating and it reminded me of some Australian crime novels I’ve read recently because it shows how other countries, other cultures deal with crime and how resources especially limited ones encourage resourcefulness in the law enforcers!
Of any genre crime novels tend to be the most ‘unputdownable’ because the natural curiosity of an astute reader dominates and the desire to read on is compulsive. But I found my desire to read on and on with this book transcended merely solving the crime. I was invested in the characters and their lives. It was an absolute treat to read and my thanks to Steven Cooper at Pushkin Vertigo for a gifted copy and a place upon the blog tour.
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