Reel Tastes & Travels – a light dose of entertainment to wake you up

Book Rating:

Welcome back to the world of Three Pines! For the uninitiated, Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache series revolves around the Inspector and his team solving various murders, largely in and around the village of Three Pines.

I’ve seen articles discussing whether Louise Penny’s books fall within the ‘cozy mystery’ sub-genre and it definitely ticks several of the boxes – an intimate community setting, violence that is largely off-stage, and perhaps most importantly, murderers who are typically regular folks warped by events or relationships from their past. Gamache is a firm believer in unearthing the trail of emotions behind the crime, and it is repeatedly driven home that most murders have their origins in the past; events that may seem innocuous or resolved at the time, but in reality, fester under the surface till they eventually boil over with deadly repercussions. And yet there are several aspects that differentiate this from other crime series that I’ve read.

While the primary focus of each book is the murder of the moment, Three Pines and its eclectic cast of characters very much play a key role, and the story is as much about what’s happening to the residents of Three Pines as it is about the murder of the day. Three Pines is presented as an idyllic refuge for various lost souls who have stumbled upon it over the years. It is almost fae-like, absent from any modern map and discovered only by chance; an anachronism where, in the absence of good network coverage, we are pulled back into an older (dare I say better?) time of landline phones and dial-up internet; where presumably people do not walk around glued to their phones and good conversations and community events fill up the days. Who amongst us does not yearn (at least in part) for such a place to escape to? And there lies the attraction. Opening up a new Inspector Gamache novel is like easing back into a comfortable armchair, wrapped snug in a blanket and with your beverage of choice at hand, as you let yourself get enveloped back into the familiar and calming world of Three Pines.

And yet, despite the outwardly peaceful atmosphere, this is a village with a surprisingly high incidence of murders. If it is indeed a beacon for lost souls, it doesn’t necessarily follow that all those souls find their way again. Indeed, in real life we would probably be hightailing it out of there after the first or second murder! But I’m willing to suspend disbelief if only because Penny has created such an engaging cast of characters, who though charming, are all too fallible. They make mistakes, are sometimes consumed by jealousy, envy, greed, can be petty, but they are good at heart and genuinely care for each other. It is a pleasure to see the characters grow over the series and to gradually develop a better understanding of their histories and motivations. That character development is one of the key strengths of the series. Often, the actual murder itself is less gripping and the murderer can be deduced fairly early on. But what keeps me coming back are the characters and seeing what happens to them next and how storylines which are slowly and organically developed over several books eventually unfold.

And Inspector Gamache is a protagonist you can fully get behind. This is no tortured soul who has to balance battling his personal demons with battling crime, who gets brief pockets of happiness only to have it cruelly snatched away in due course, whose life gets suitably grimmer as we proceed through the series. Nor is he a carefree protagonist who breezes through crime-solving with barely a lasting impact on his life. He is a strong leader and a calming force who lives by a steadfast moral code. He makes difficult choices that haunt him at times, and often cause him to be disparaged by the public. But the strength of his relationship with his wife and his love for his family and friends keep him anchored and help him retain his positivity and belief in good. That’s one of the main reasons why the books usually still leave you on a hopeful note, even when storylines get dark (and some of them get pretty dark!).

That’s not to say it is perfect – there is at least one key character who still remains something of an enigma and seems to exist more as a foil to the other residents. Which in turn means that the description of that character largely boils down to a few external characteristics without much inner depth. And a lot of the background and key philosophies of the characters get repeated in every book, which makes it easier to read the books as standalones but does get a tad wearisome when reading the books in close succession. But on the whole, it is a series I’d definitely recommend and a world that I am happy to return to with each new book.

Which brings us to ‘The Madness of Crowds’, the 17^th book in the series. The story takes place soon after the pandemic and starts off with our beloved villagers tentatively returning to their regular routines post-pandemic. There is a sense of hope in the air as people relish the simple pleasures of being able to hold hands and hug and just be together again. This peace is soon shattered when Gamache is tasked with providing security for a visiting Professor of Statistics, Abigail Robinson, who has some rather divisive recommendations that are rapidly gaining popularity despite their controversial nature. One thing leads to another and a body turns up, leading Gamache and team into an investigation that will uncover some uncomfortable secrets and cause some of them to wrestle with their own self-belief and personal demons.

***********************Some SPOILERS ahead!!!**************************

The actual murder investigation is probably one of the least interesting plotlines in the story, and serves more as a plot device to drive some of the bigger themes discussed in the book. This is borne out by the fact that the murder happens quite a way into the book, allowing for some mystery and false starts around who actually is murdered – not one of my favourite twists. The revelation of the murderer at the end also doesn’t pack quite the same punch as some of the author’s earlier novels.

Another issue I had was with the actions of one of the key characters, new to the series, who plays a substantial role in muddying the waters. I usually think the author’s character developments are top notch, with their actions unfolding organically driven by motivations that make sense in the context of what we know of the characters and their histories. However in this case, her actions did not really make sense to me beyond the requirement to ensure the plot did not get resolved too fast. It is explained as being driven by loyalty to Prof. Robinson’s father, a former colleague and dear friend. But I doubt such loyalty, years after his death, would extend to hiding information and essentially obstructing a murder investigation, even to the extent of coming under suspicion herself.

However, there are several thought-provoking storylines that helped elevate the book above the mediocre murder mystery:

• Prof. Robinson’s recommendation: The divisive recommendation at the heart of the book involves a reallocation of resources to groups of people who are deemed to have a better worth to society. Essentially it boils down to withholding support from the weaker sections of society – the infirm, the disabled, the elderly. And while the book doesn’t quite say it out loud, it is strongly implied that the extension of this would be a culling out at infancy itself. Essentially, eugenics though couched in terms of resource scarcity and maximising the utility of limited resources. The book doesn’t shy away from the horror of her recommendations, and Gamache, and by proxy the reader, is clearly not meant to agree with it. But what it does quite brilliantly is the timing of the story. The story is set in the world just emerging from the pandemic, with the nightmares still fresh, and where limited medical and other resources have had a very tangible impact on people’s lives. Which makes it almost plausible that such extreme suggestions, which people would normally disregard without a moment’s pause, could actually gain some traction among segments of society hurting from the pandemic and who are not immediately impacted by the recommendations. The storyline is wrapped up a little neatly at the end with a handy piece of blackmail. But it presents a stark picture of how normal, everyday folk can be swayed by an atmosphere of fear and arguments of self-preservation under the right circumstances.

• The perils of being over-reliant on data: The crux of Prof. Robinson’s argument is that the data supports and in fact points towards it. About mid-way through the book, there is an interesting part where the team uncovers an old presentation about the fallacy of being over-reliant on data without considering other factors. Just because data shows that a relationship exists between two events, does not necessarily mean that the events are logically connected. And assuming they are blindly on the back of the data is a fallacy. Clearly this is meant to be a parallel with Prof. Robinson’s repeated statements that she is merely presenting what the data shows. I would have enjoyed seeing this explored more instead of relying mainly on the emotional pull of the subject matter to sway opinion against her.

• Gamache’s objectivity: Given his strong aversion to Prof. Robinson’s views, as well as its personal relevance to him and his second-in-command, Beauvoir (Beauvoir’s daughter, and Gamache’s granddaughter, has Down’s syndrome), there appears to be a conflict of interest for Gamache. He is called out on it by Inspector Lacoste, and though he denies it, he does have a moment of doubt whether his handling of the investigation is truly objective. He is vindicated in the end but it is an interesting conundrum. How objective can one truly be in such a situation? Was he simply lucky that his orders were justified, or did he truly proceed in the same manner as any other investigation.

Overall, not one of the author’s best books, but still an decent read with some interesting aspects that provide food for thought.