UK paperback (C) Quercus, 2012 |
The second in the Lewis trilogy set
in Scotland’s outer Hebrides, this is a gripping crime novel, well-written
with believable characters.
Like its predecessor, The Blackhouse, The Lewis Man follows an ex-policeman as he struggles to untangle a murder mystery. Along the way, he encounters many childhood acquaintances. At least that's the framework, but it's really about long-ago decisions touching multiple
lives years later.
There’s an agreeable air of melancholy, regret and damaged lives that works well with the grim Isle of Lewis setting. Being something of a rolling stone myself, I liked the idea of an isolated community where people are connected by family, friendship and past mistakes. And I was glad to find the same romantic tension between Fin MacLeod and childhood sweetheart Marsaili that made The Blackhouse so enjoyable.
May's characters live and breathe. They have substance to them. Unlike Jack Reacher, ex-Detective Inspector MacLeod doesn’t leave a trail of wrack and ruin everywhere he goes. He rarely finds it necessary to resort to violence. When his old friend punches him in a bar fight, he turns the other cheek, but not out of weakness. Author Peter May must be a man who has seen something of life and understands people.
There’s an agreeable air of melancholy, regret and damaged lives that works well with the grim Isle of Lewis setting. Being something of a rolling stone myself, I liked the idea of an isolated community where people are connected by family, friendship and past mistakes. And I was glad to find the same romantic tension between Fin MacLeod and childhood sweetheart Marsaili that made The Blackhouse so enjoyable.
May's characters live and breathe. They have substance to them. Unlike Jack Reacher, ex-Detective Inspector MacLeod doesn’t leave a trail of wrack and ruin everywhere he goes. He rarely finds it necessary to resort to violence. When his old friend punches him in a bar fight, he turns the other cheek, but not out of weakness. Author Peter May must be a man who has seen something of life and understands people.
To be honest, this effort doesn't quite equal the performance this author gave in The Blackhouse. The Lewis Man sometimes felt formulaic and over-written. The island is “storm-lashed;” the wind
“whips” twice in five pages; dialogue occasionally becomes a bit
unnatural and encyclopedic, reminding me of the exposition in a Dan Brown novel. But these are minor objections. This book is much better
written than I’ve come to expect from crime fiction, and well worth your time if you enjoy character-driven mysteries.
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