Atkinson's Case Histories -- Two Stars At Best

I listened to a review on NPR of Kate Atkinson’s newest novel, A God in Ruins. The glowing review described Atkinson as being capable of inspiring tears on one page and laughter on another. That is exactly the kind of writing I look for.

I’d never read Atkinson before, so I thought I’d give her a try. And when I found out she wrote murder mysteries, which I especially like, I decided to try the first of her Jackson Brodie series.

You know how disappointed you are when you eat meatloaf at a restaurant and it’s not as good as the meatloaf you make yourself at home? That’s how I felt about Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories.

When I started reading it, I realized I had seen it. On PBS’s Masterpiece Mysteries. And I enjoyed that production. I’m one of those people who say “the book’s better, but not in this case. The BBC production is much better. And not just because it’s set in Edinburgh instead of Cambridge.

Atkinson's skillful use of the English language is not enough to cover the mishmash plot.

Jackson Brodie, the main character has personal problems – a new divorce, a daughter he loves, and a wife he still doesn’t understand. He and his life are much more interesting than his Case Histories.

The construction of the novel was a bit disconcerting for me. The first case is the missing child case and its six significant characters. The second case is a seemingly random knifing of a fat lawyer’s daughter and his partner. In the third case Ms. Atkinson gives us a really great ax-murder. Each is presented as unrelated.

The only interesting constants are a crazy, old cat lady and Brodie’s sensible child.

The novel is predictable. And not just because I’d seen the TV production. The only real surprise was in the Michelle/Shirley story. And it was so out of left field as to be unbelievable.

Atkinson’s machinations to connect the stories are so obvious as to be irritating. And where we have been trained since Holmes and Christie that there are no coincidences, Atkinson makes such liberal use of them as to “gag a maggot” – to resurrect an admittedly disgusting phrase from my youth.

Immediately following the saccharine ending of Case Histories, I read John Lescroart’s Treasure Hunt. Lescroart does a yeoman job of giving us a mystery complete with a gathering of the suspects ala Agatha Christie. A gathering that had me holding my breath and laughing out loud.

He did indulge his writer-self following the exposure of the baddie. Which I enjoyed thoroughly. And, as always, he turned me on to other books I must read. In his Acknowledgements he names The Making of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman. Years ago I read that his character Abe Glitsky reads Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin series, the first of which is Master and Commander. I have enjoyed reading O’Brian ever since.

I have a tradition of reading at least two books by any one author before I strike them off my reading list. Which I will do with Ms. Atkinson, but no more of her mysteries for me. You don’t have to follow that tradition unless you’re just hard up for something to read. If that is the case, I’d recommend the BBC productions instead of the book and/or visiting your public library for an unlimited banquet of good books.