As God Is My Witness, I’ll Always Be Hungary Again

It’s been a good week for our humble tome THE BIG O, folks. Not only did it ascend at one point to the nosebleed-worthy heights of 33,128 (whoo-hoo!) on the Amazon.com rankings, but the rumours of foreign translations, in the wake of the Frankfurt bun-fight, grow stronger by the day. For lo! Apparently there’s an Italian publisher showing ‘strong interest’ in foisting THE BIG O on an unsuspecting Italian public, which would be pretty cool given that I have very fond memories of finishing the second-to-last draft of said tome on the Aeolian island of Lipari, this during the holiday that I proposed to my wife. Nice.
  Just as intriguing is the news that there’s ‘very strong interest’ from a German publisher, even though I’ve never finished any drafts of anything in Germany, nor managed even so much as a smooch with a fraulein. Still, crime fiction seems to be coming strong in Germany in the last few years in particular – at least, we presume it’s still coming strong, even though we haven’t heard from our old friend Bernd Kochanowski in ages. Bernd? If you’re out there, buddy, just send a carrier pigeon …
  Finally, it’s been confirmed that a Hungarian publisher will inflict THE BIG O on its nation’s denizens next year, which news is the kind to tickle my always flabber-prone gast. Yes, yes, I appreciate that such developments represent small potatoes to the more established scribes among you, but given that THE BIG O was originally a co-published book put together on a budget of three bent paper-clips and a snapped elastic band, the idea that it’ll see the light in Hungarian is simultaneously hilarious and poignant. Like, Hungary? You’re kidding, right? You’re not? Oh …
  To celebrate, I’m going to run the new and improved ‘book trailer’ devised by Shay Bagnall, the entirely immodest new-and-improved elements being some blurbs that were kindly delivered by John Connolly, Reed Farrel Coleman and Booklist - plus a cute little ‘smoking gun’ add-on the Baggsman threw in for giggles. Hell, smoke ’em if you got ’em, right? Roll it there, Collette …

On Politics In The Irish Crime Novel, Or Lack Thereof

Our German friend Bernd Kochanowski from International Crime adds an interesting coda to the comment he left on the post On Publishing and Being Damned, to wit:

BTW: He (the reviewer) is also unhappy that the new Irish crime fiction is almost apolitical and doesn’t reflect the events that shook Ireland for years.

  The reviewer in question was casting a cold eye over Tana French’s IN THE WOODS, and is presumably referring to what we in Ireland like to euphemistically refer to as ‘the Troubles’.
  In other words – and we’re taking Bernd’s word for this – said reviewer is disappointed that Irish crime writers aren’t dealing with the consequences of the 30-year conflict that involved the Provisional IRA, the INLA, the British Army, the RUC (latterly the PSNI), the Gardai, and more Loyalist paramilitary armies than you could shake a cat-o’-nine-tails at.
  To which we reply, ‘Tosh, piffle and balderdash, sirrah!’
  Case for the Defence # 1: Adrian McKinty’s protagonist Michael Forsythe is an ex-British Army soldier. In THE DEAD YARD, he goes undercover to break up a gang of renegade Republicans. In THE BLOOMSDAY DEAD he engages with (and generally vaporises) any number of ex-paramilitaries on his return to Belfast.
  Case for the Defence # 2: Sylvester Young’s SLEEPING DOGS LIE, in which ex-IRA men travel to the U.S. and become embroiled in a complex plot involving a number of security agencies.
  Case for the Defence # 3: Ken Bruen’s AMERICAN SKIN, in which an ex-IRA man wreaks mayhem in the U.S.
  Case for the Defence # 4: Declan Burke’s EIGHT BALL BOOGIE, in which former paramilitaries diversify into more prosaic criminality, specifically coke-trafficking.
  Case for the Defence # 5: David Park’s THE TRUTH COMMISSIONER, in which former paramilitaries and an ex-RUC officer find themselves called to account for their actions twenty years previously.
  Case for the Defence # 6: Colin Bateman.
  Case for the Defence # 7: Sam Millar.
  Case for the Defence # 8: Authors such as Peter Cunningham, Jack Holland and S.J. Michaels, who were writing about ‘the Troubles’ as far back as the late ’80s and early ’90s.
  I could go on, but hopefully the point is made. Besides, and pertinently in the context of the reviewer’s comments being made during a review of IN THE WOODS, Tana French’s novel had a political subtext that perhaps was too subtle for the reviewer to pick up on. The novel opens on an archaeological dig, where the body of a young girl has been found, said dig being conducted hastily on the basis that the bulldozers of the property developers are due in the very near future.
  In Ireland, many such developments are highly controversial and politically charged, the most obvious example being that of the M3 motorway, currently planned to run through the Tara Valley (right), an archaeological complex dating back to 2,000 BC.
  Furthermore, the ongoing tribunals of investigation were initially set up to investigate the links – if such could be proved – between property developers and politicians, specifically to discover if politicians had been bribed to facilitate the rezoning of land in favour of property speculators. Among the many politicians to find themselves under serious scrutiny at these tribunals, to put it mildly, were two former taoisigh, or Irish prime ministers, Charles Haughey and Bertie Ahern.
  To suggest that IN THE WOODS is an apolitical novel is to deliberately ignore, or be utterly ignorant of, recent Irish history. Here endeth the lesson. Peace, out.

The Sunday Roast

A Minister for Propaganda Elf writes: “A few tasty little interweb Sunday dumplings for your delectation, people. First up is CAP’s good friend Bernd Kochanowski (right), who is currently hosting the latest incarnation of the Crime Carnival over at Krimis Internationale and doing nothing whatsoever to undermine the stereotype of German efficiency and thoroughness. Quoth Bernd:

“Therefore it isn’t easy to present something new. Most of the keepers of blogs work hard to present regularly new topics and new posts. As a result readers are at a certain risk to forget last week’s post, not to mention last month’s post, although these posts had thrilled them so much. Therefore my question to you: Which older post would you like to see in a blog museum?”

  “We’re taking the Fifth. Meanwhile, over at Detectives Beyond Borders, Peter Rozovsky may or may not announce the first outing for Noir at the Bar, a revolutionary new concept that juxtaposes crime fiction readings with music. The bar in question is the Tritone in Philly, and the first writer up to the mike is – trumpet parp there, maestro – Duane Swierczynski. It’s only rock ‘n’ roll, but we like it, etc.
  “Finally, the one-man lunatic asylum that is Critical Mick has a review of Tana French’s IN THE WOODS, but as always there’s a twist. Firstly, it appears that Critical Mick’s copy of IN THE WOODS was snaffled by a literary-minded burglar, and secondly, the Mickster has provided an mp3 version of the review for all of you funky, teched-up interweb heads out there. Mick also has a request of us, which runneth thusly:

“If you are looking for content for CAP, feel free to mention the Writing Show’s current First Chapter of a Novel Contest. You were good enough to mention it last year: you can call this Bleeding Fingers II. The contest is open for submissions now, and there’s still about three weeks to meet the early deadline. Full details are on The Writing Show’s website. I will be most grateful.”

  “Mickster? We’re not worthy. Although we do represent decent value for money, particularly now that the euro is so strong against sterling and the dollar. Love one another, people. Out.”

French Kissing In The USA*

So there we were at 6.30am trying to make a funny out of the Edgars and THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE and the fact that Tana French’s (right) second name is, well, you follow our drift, when we realised that trying to make funnies before the first bucket of coffee goes down the hatch may well cause our collective spinal cords to leap up and strangle what’s left of our pitiful collective brains. So, instead, we’ll just give it to you straight – Sarah Weinman reports that Tana French’s debut novel IN THE WOODS has won the Edgar for Best First Novel By An American Author. Hoo-rah! Of course, the downside to Tana’s win means that we’ll have to disinclude her from the roster of Irish crime fiction writers, but that’s a small price to pay. Run wild, Tana, run free! Meanwhile, the winner of the Best Novel award was John Hart’s DOWN RIVER, and Megan Abbott scooped the Best Paperback Original with QUEENPIN. Bernd Kochanowski? We still love you, but you’re sacked. For all the Edgar details, jump on over here …

* How long have we been waiting use that header? Way too long, that’s how long ...

Mi Casa, Su Casa: Bernd Kochanowski

The continuing stooooooory of how the Grand Vizier puts his feet up and lets other writers talk some sense for a change. This week: Bernd Kochanowski (right) of International Crime on the appropriateness (or otherwise) of a German crime fiction award named for the London / Yorkshire Ripper.

Isn’t it time for a pan-European crime fiction award? In Europe we share anxieties, hopes and problems, and many of us even share the currency and external borders. Ray Banks’ description of young men who can’t keep up with the changing rules of a society in SATURDAY’S CHILD applies to males in Hamburg as well as in Newcastle; the struggle of societies to come to terms with the influx of eastern European immigrants in Massimo Carlotto’s THE GOODBYE KISS happens not only in northern Italy; and Andrea Maria Schenkels petty people in TANNÖD (English: THE MURDER VILLAGE) could live in other remote rural regions of Europe as well. Among the huge number of smaller and larger crime fiction awards in Europe, so far none focuses on our joint future.
  It is therefore a pity that the crime fiction festival “Mord am Hellweg” (Murder at the Hellweg) missed an opportunity when it initiated a “European Crime Fiction Star Award” and named the award The Ripper Award (based on Jack the Ripper).
  Am Hellweg is a region in western Germany, situated between Duisburg and Paderborn. Since 2002 a bi-annual crime fiction festival has been held in several of its cities. The festival claims that it is the largest festival of its kind in Europe [no wonder: in 2008 it will last almost two months – 13th September to 8th November – and includes 150 events in 20 cities]. To be honest, were it not for the festival I wouldn’t know the “Am Hellweg Region” and I wouldn’t know the festival if it wasn’t for the ongoing discussion about the “The Ripper” award.
  Choosing the name “The Ripper” for its award served the festival’s aim well and started a debate in the German-based internet community that provided the publicity the festival lacked in the past. The intentions of the award are, according to the press release, as follows:

“The Ripper, the European Crime Fiction Star Award, honours a female or male crime fiction author who has rendered outstanding services to crime literature within Europe. [...] whose work testifies responsibility for crime literature in a special way and stands for a lively and modern development of the genre. His / her work is of European importance and / or has received a significant reception within Europe.”

  So what “responsibilities” do writers have to the genre ?
  If you want to select an eminent European author you need obviously a jury that knows the work and the reception of European crime fiction writers. What crime fiction writers come to mind, who would meet the expectations of the nomination criteria? Ian Rankin, Fred Vargas or Henning Mankell? Nominees could be proposed until the end of March. Bloggers are not explicitly excluded and the first author who came to my mind was Ken Bruen (right). I really thought about proposing him. Would he be happy, coming in from Dublin by one of those small aeroplanes, and telling the Galway audience that he had won “the Ripper” award, named after the London Ripper ?
  In the case of the Ripper award, a jury “of five German and international crime fiction authors” (German authors obviously are not international) make a pre-selection. In 2008 three of these are Germans / Austrians, plus Peter James and Camilla Läckberg. At the end the winner is chosen by the visitors to the festival. Visitors who participate just a short while at a festival that takes two months, visitors whose primary language more often than not is German, and visitors who most likely do not read foreign writers in their native tongue. These are visitors who attend events that are all fun and games (featuring music, cabaret, vine events etc.).
  Present at the festival this year, beside several German crime fiction writers and therefore representing the “European crime fiction writer elite”, are Leo P. Ard (Mallorca), Peter James (England), Bernhard Jaumann (Namibia), Michael Morley (England), Sabina Naber (Österreich), Yrsa Sigurdardottir (Island), Maj Sjöwall und Jürgen Alberts (Schweden/Bremen), Michael Theurillat (Schweiz), and Jac Toes und Thomas Hoeps (Niederlande) [Leo P. Ard and Bernhard Jaumann are Germans].
  As far as I can see, with this pompous award criteria and the awkward selection procedure, the crime fiction star award was established to promote and market a touristic spectacle.
  There is, though, a small discussion in Germany as to whether the name is witty, prudent or insulting. It seems that the more literary or commercially inclined find the name acceptable. They argue that the Ripper is not so much a serial killer as a metaphor symbolizing mass media-induced mass hysteria. “The name refers to one of the modern urban legends, ‘a serial murderer, who is connected to horror but also to delinquency and crime fiction par excellence’” ((1) kultur.macht.europa, quoting Sigrun Krauss, a member of the organizing committee).
  The London Ripper a urban legend ?
  “Urban legends are not necessarily untrue, but they are often distorted, exaggerated, or sensationalized over time” (Wikipedia). I personally would agree, that the Ripper is a metaphor that writers use to evoke an image of a murderer lurking in the streets and killing innocent people, but there is no exaggeration nor distortion about this image, because we are well informed about his victims. There is nothing sensational about David Peace’s Red Riding Quartet that is “inspired” by a second Ripper roaming Yorkshire and disturbing the mind of the young Peace so profoundly that he needs to loose the demons by writing the Quartet.
  So can we expect that the next time they look for an name for a spy novel award they will chose Adolf Eichmann?
  It might be due to this discussion that the explanation that the Ripper Award refers to the London Ripper had been tacitly removed from the German text of the award announcement, although I don’t know what is gained by this small gesture. – Bernd Kochanowski

The Embiggened O # 2,012: Achtung, Baby!

Who says Germans have no sense of humour? Bernd Kochanowski over at International Crime was kind enough to review our humble offering THE BIG O, introducing us in the process to the phrase ‘trip to Jerusalem’, for which we will be eternally grateful. With apologies to Bernd for the quality of the writing, which is the result of our using a translation device, the piece runneth thusly:

With the “trip to Jerusalem” THE BIG O would have no chance: The book falls between all chairs. It is no humour crime film, but rather subliminal funnily, it does not show off with local colour, still plays recognizably in Ireland, it is no real thriller, nevertheless, uses this form and it is nobody noir, however, is to the direction … If one did not know it already on account of regular reading of the Blogs Crime Always Pays whose guardian Declan Burke is, at the latest to THE BIG O would be clear that here an eminently widely-read author was at work who has done many thoughts to himself about the manifestations of the genre.
  Exceptionally it is fairly difficult to summarize the book. Too easily it could happen that affectionately from the author laid out feints are betrayed. Besides, the idea underlying to the book is easy. Mostly single scenes are told in short chapter from the point of varying persons. Now and then a scene of a person becomes next hand over, so that the reader receives two (often different) representations. If these are at the beginning single action threads which the author lays out, these are intertwined in the course of the history with each other and intertwined again to a respect network hardly to be overlooked has originated. Relentlessly Burke speeds up the history. Always new dependence between the trading appears and constantly it differently comes than one expects.
  All together these are 6 heads and some Nebenpersonen which appear before a scenery which could be everywhere - the book walk formally to be performed as a stage play. Typically Irish is here in particular the language which speak the people and thus it also takes no miracle that the dialogs carry an essential part of the action.
  THE BIG O is great fun: The humour comes from the back, without laughters from the canned food announce that a joke comes. The persons are drawn hard, however, always consistent. The special situation Ireland as “Celtic tiger” is a part of the background and the book is exciting always. Even if the reader from a certain point can anticipate where the whole will lead, one asks himself with all involvements how the author wants to bring this with dignity to an end.
  The book is convincing (at the stately end and) also, because it is independent absolutely. Here somebody risks what … and wins. Published by the author with Hag’s Head Pressing appeared book will come out in the lifting in the USA at one of the big publishing companies. Past then the times where the author can report about the fact that the book is offered as a reward with Amazon for 195.36 US $.