Russian Mysteries

Murder at the Dacha

Alexei Bayer (Russian Life, $16)

The Twelfth Department

William Ryan (Minotaur $25.99)

The House of Special Purpose

John Boyne (Other Books, $16.95)

We love mysteries set in a foreign land. Case in point the works of Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, and P.D. James. Or Stieg Larrson, Kiran Desai and Umberto Eco.

It may even be that, the more distant and mysterious the land, the more interesting the mystery. Which might be fueling the surging popularity of Scandinavian crime fiction in recent years. Or maybe that is just publishers trying to reproduce the lightning strike of the Dragon Tattoo series.

In recent decades, mysteries situated in Russia have for the most part been penned by western authors (Martin Cruz Smith, David Benioff, Tom Rob Smith, Sam Eastland, etc.), with the works of Boris Akunin being the notable exception. Sure, plenty of mysteries are now published in Russia, in Russian, but very few of them get translated into English. And that is a shame, since fiction in the mystery genre can often be not only popular, but also very “literary,” adroitly examining human motivations, character and actions under the stress of highly unusual situations.

Of the three books reviewed here, all are set in Russia. Only Bayer’s is written by a Russian (and, of course, it is published by Russian Life Books, so my bias is all over my sleeves). And that certainly shows. There is a knowing feel of the Russian reality in Bayer’s writing, in the way characters interact with each other, in the powerful undercurrent of fatalism, in the telling grasp of detail and the lilt of speech — even in translation (which is Bayer’s own).

Murder at the Dacha takes place in 1963, a time of relative Thaw in Soviet society, yet distant enough from our time to be all the more foreign. The carefully unfolding plot centers around the murder of a high ranking apparatchik, a famous currency dealing case, and turf battles between city and regional militia, with considerable KGB interference.

The indefatigable Detective Matyushkin is very much a stand-in for the everyman. Sherlock Holmes, despite the ribbing he takes from lesser cops, he is not. Plodding and determined, definitely. And very likable and believable, if only for that fact that his love for his girlfriend Toska seems to just barely eclipse his love for his Zundapp motorcycle.

The plot moves along at a steady pace and builds to an excellent climax with several satisfying twists. Murder at the Dacha is has a rich cast of complex and believable characters and a deeply nuanced recreation of Soviet life in the 1960s.

With The Twelfth Department, William Ryan, takes us back in time another three decades, to a decidedly chillier time in Soviet history: 1937. In this, the third in Ryan’s series of detective novels featuring detective Alexei Korolev, once again Korolev must tiptoe along a razor’s edge, balancing personal stresses (in this case his son is in the city for a long overdue visit) and professional hazards. As in Bayer’s book, a top official is murdered and the secret police has its tentacles all wrapped around the Truth. Korolev must find a way to piece together the clues without himself getting ensnared.

As noted in this space in a review of Ryan’s last book, he is one of the best modern writers in the emerging Soviet/Russian mystery genre for getting things right. There is a believable sense of the era and the characters are true to what we know of people living through the horrors of Stalin’s regime. But his Korolev is by no means a cardboard automaton or even a by-the-book militia officer. He is a Believer and something of a risk taker, yet he also would just like a contented, uncomplicated life. But then that does not make for very interesting mysteries.

Such quietude and contentment is also the objective of the protagonist in John Boyne’s The House of Special Purpose, which takes us back in time yet another 20 or 30 years, to the last years of the tsar. The novel is positioned as more of a literary novel, yet it is infused with mystery: who is this Georgy Jachmenev, how did he end up a servant in the tsar’s household, and just what did he do or see that would lead him to think that someone would be pursuing him to the ends of the earth (or, more exactly, to London and the British Museum).

After fleeing Russia in the aftermath of the Revolution, Jachmenev spends some time in France, gets married, then moves to England, where he constructs a live of quiet exile. The book begins in 1981, as his wife is dying and he is looking back on his life, trying to reconcile events that will only be revealed as the book unfolds, as he tells his tale, infused with equal parts pride and remorse.

Cleverly told, the narrator alternates between going backward and forward in time until the stories meet in the middle and the tale reaches its climax (which, given the title, one does not expect to be rife with surprises for Russophiles; but don’t bank on it...)

This is a tale of exile, of bad and worse choices, of the measure of human character, of the mysteries that lie hidden within every man and woman. And while the conclusion (no spoilers here) is counterfactual, alternative history, it is nonetheless an enjoyable read.

Briefly Noted

MAIDENHAIR (Mikhail Shishkin, translated by Marian Schwartz; Open Letter, $17.95) is not an easy book, given its disconnected, complex style. It is comprised of overlapping, intersecting and cross-pollinating stories and narratives — interviews with asylum seekers in Switzerland, personal memories, biographical notes and journals of a singer on whom the author is penning a biography — and historical readings on Greek myths and the Persian War. Shishkin said the book takes place “everywhere and always.” His insights into the human condition are profound and his beautiful prose is some of the best being written by a Russian. This challenging work is easily worth the effort.

THE OCCULT IN TSARIST RUSSIA (Thomas E. Berry; Strategic Book Publishing, $13.95) offers a fascinating dive into a subject that seems largely missing from the historical record. Everything from mediums to spiritualism, from secret societies to witches is covered in this slim volume.

LONG, LONG TALES FROM THE RUSSIAN NORTH (Jack V. Haney, translator and editor; Univ. Press of Mississippi, $60) includes 17 tales that are much longer than the short, conventional wondertales we are accustomed to. In fact, these are translations of “serial tales” by five gifted story tellers from the Russian North, told and recorded nearly a century ago. Reading these, you can almost imagine yourself relaxing by a quiet northern lake in late summer, staring at a dwindling fire as a narrator spins out his tale.

THE DOSTOYEVSKY ARCHIVE (Peter Sekirin, editor; McFarland, $30). A superb new collection of personal letters to and from the great author, memoirs of contemporaries and other relevant biographical documents. Includes detailed chronology and brief biographies of important contemporaries to Dostoyevsky. An invaluable reference for anyone passionate about Fyodor Ivanovich.