Customer Reviews

The Confession (Inspector Ferenc Kolyeszar)

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(6)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The Confession, Olen Steinhauer's second novel set in an unnamed post-war Eastern European country, is a complex multi-layered work - part police procedural, part erotic romance, part noir mystery, part reflection on totalitarian excesses. That's a lot to fit into 326 pages, but Steinhauer deftly manages to pull it off.

Set in 1956, The Confession centers on Ferenc Kolyeszar, a member of a state police unit (the People's Militia) in the Capital, but also an author with connections to the underground literary community. Neighboring Hungarians are experimenting with freedom and pulling away from Moscow until that revolt is brutally repressed. During sympathetic protests in the Capital, the commissar-like Russian Kaminsky puts the police unit in the uncomfortable and unfamiliar role of repressor. Ferenc is less than fully cooperative.

At the same time, Ferenc's partner pursues a seemingly fruitless investigation of an apparent suicide with links to the art world while another member of the unit digs into the unsolved murder of a colleague who had been investigating a rape and murder that others would as soon left alone. Ferenc's own investigation of the disappearance of the beautiful young wife of a powerful industrialist takes an unexpected turn.

Ferenc's marriage is failing and he suspects his police partner is cuckolding him. He takes to heavy drinking and spending nights away from home. Multiple pressures build on Ferenc until he takes some decidedly rash actions.

Steinhauer pulls the various strands of the story together. His close examination of the brutality inside a forced labor camp for political prisoners is both chilling and brilliant. The closing forty pages were as good an ending as I have read in quite some time - a 'wow'. Highly recommended.

Of the four novels in this series I have read this one takes the greatest commitment. The first 75 pages seem to stumble along with little connection to a central plot --at one point Comrade Inspector Ferenc Kolyeszar discusses the death of plot and I really started to worry --but almost out of nowhere a strong and emotional story with all the crime and politics you could ask for emerges. The end makes the book worth while. If you get it. Stick with it.

I can't believe no one else has reviewed this book. It's a fantastic thriller. If you like Alan Furst, you'll enjoy this book. The writing is eloquent and atmospheric and the story is enthralling. The first book in this series, "The Bridge of Sighs," is also very good. I can't wait to read the remaining books by Steinhauer, who certainly deserves to be much better known and read.

As some other reviewers have stated, this one took some getting into. I read The Tourist and The Nearest Exit, and loved them both. When I found out there was another series that started with Bridge of Sighs, I had to read that as well and loved it as well. Switching from Milo to Emil was easy and both characters were so well crafted and enjoyable to read.

The first few pages (dare I say chapters) of The Confession gave me a feeling of "oh no...." because for starters I really liked the main character of Emil in Bridge of Sighs and I really learned to dislike or at best distrust the other inspectors that Emil worked with. I really thought the author was off his rocker and reaching far too much to expect to carry forth a series switching to another character, especially a big beefy guy with rings on his fingers who sits in the corner typing.

Another reviewer said he was glad that he stuck with it, and so am I. I actually stopped reading it two chapters in for a few weeks, and lamented to my wife that I wanted to get into it but I just couldn't. So I buckled down and re-engaged, and let me just tell you that if you're an Olen Steinhauer fan you will not be disappointed. How the author managed to switch characters and keep the series moving so well, I do not know, but he absolutely did.

And without the ground work of the what-seems-boring beginning of the book, you can't really appreciate the more eventful sections. I hate to take away from Bridge of Sighs and I can't believe I'm saying this, but The Confession might just be my favorite Steinhauer book yet.

The Confession is the second book in the author's series of life behind the Iron Curtain. Taking place in a nameless Eastern European country, the series' stars are the men of a state militia police force - all of whom wrestle to some degree with their jobs and their conscience. This book's protagonist is Ferenc Kolyeszar, a homicide detective and part-time writer, and who played a minor role in the previous entry The Bridge of Sighs. These books are part mystery, part police procedural and part a narrative of the oppression and machinations under a communist regime - all somewhat reminiscent of the Arkady Renko series by Martin Cruz Smith. Although these books are extremely well-written - particularly in painting "scenes" - I find the characters and the story-lines/plots missing a spark - being both predictable and somewhat stale.

The book opens in 1956 with cracks developing in the Iron Curtain - specifically the uprising in Hungary and the release of dissidents from the communist work camps/prisons. With all this "change" in the air, life still goes on for our police force and our hero, Ferenc. Back at the station house he is tasked with "solving" both the disappearance of the young wife of a Party member, and the apparent suicide of a has-been member of the underground art world. To add to the mix, an emissary from Moscow shows up to keep an eye on Ferenc and his peers, providing "direction" when necessary with dealing with the inevitable protests, and adding one more level of paranoia to their day to day existence. In the not so distant background Ferenc is wrestling with his all but failed marriage.

Our hero is personally involved in all of the above - at times acting as judge, jury and executioner - all the while looking over his shoulder. There is a lot of the proverbial spaghetti thrown at the wall here - with a multitude of sub-plots, twists and turns - and although some of it sticks to the wall, it also dries quickly. As stated the descriptive writing is excellent; the author brilliantly portraying the dismal existence inside of prison camps, the terror of being called in for "questioning" by the authorities, and even the underground art world party scene. Unfortunately I was disappointed with both the lack of depth of the characters and the predictable story-line - which all conveniently ties together at the conclusion. As wonderful as the attention to detail is - this is still a story we've seen/read many times before. (While reading The Confession and Bridge Of Sighs I couldn't help but make the comparison of witnessing a talented movie director working with a mediocre script.)

Good but not great.

A weak 4 stars.
The second in a series set in the Homicide Unit of the Militia in the capital of a nameless Eastern European country after the second World War. The first, Bridge of Sighs, was set in the more immediate aftermath, and it was the dark, brooding atmosphere, the sense of hopes being dashed, that made it rise above a simple police procedural. That, and of course the ever present knowledge that Big Brother is watching you, and you can't know whom you can trust.

That book was narrated by a Emil, a new academy graduate, while one of his partners, Ferenc was mostly a quiet presence in the office, hunkered over his typewriter. In this book, Emil has only a supporting role, while Ferenc narrates. The plot was a bit complex, and the way the various elements came together was too contrived for me. But again, what makes the book so intriguing is how it captures the atmosphere of the place and time, and what it does to the people. The time is '56, the people have had to accept the dominance of State Security and their puppet-masters in Moscow. But with Stalin gone, and neighboring Hungary trying to revolt, there is a sense of possible freedom in the air, but everyone must still tread carefully, or else. Ferenc has trouble doing so, in part because of his personal demons and situations. He is not an especially likeable character, and there are some scenes that might bother the squeamish. Some are sexual, some describe the brutal conditions of political prisoners. So read it as much for the historical atmosphere as for the plot.

A marvelous, powerful, compelling blend of Koestler, Franzen, Dostoevsky, Greene, le Carré, Mankell, Nesbo... Slowly unfolding, multi-layered plot with beautifully sculpted characters set into action amidst the oppressive and pervasive gloom, fear, and despair of Eastern European totalitarianism.

Steinhauer writes strong, clear prose that "sounds" right for the setting. And yes, it moves rather slowly, but it's measured and deliberate, not sluggish.

If you have ever enjoyed any works by any of the authors listed above, you should find a spot on your Kindle for Steinhauer. I began with "The Tourist" and am now working forward from "The Bridge of Sighs." Great to know that there are four more to savor.

This is the second book of Steinhauer's five book series on an unnamed Eastern European country starting just after WW2. In the first book we saw the effect of the take-over by the Russians after WW2 and the effects on the country and people. In this volume, which raps around the Hungarian Revolution of 1956, we see the effects of Khrushchev's Secret Speech that blasted Stalin and the 'Great Terror'. Most of what we see are the ways in which people had to kow-towed to the 'Party Line' in literature and art just to survive. Image being asked (not very pleasantly) to write 'odes' to tractors and write impassioned stories about grain harvests? That was 'socialist realism' under Stalin (not to mention lots of stuff about how great Stalin was).

The story here is not really a mystery, and is well telegraphed early in the book. What is the story is how much people are willing to ignore or 'unsee' in order to stay alive under a dictatorship. How much can you sublimate your feeling and intellect without causing yourself psychic damage? Does following 'ideals' that you don't believe in destroy you any slower that fighting for what you believe in an ending up in a 'rehabilitation' camp? Is your physical destruction worth the 'non-loss' of your idealism? Steinhauer gives us examples from both sides.

Once again, as in "Bridge of Sighs", it's the 'apparatchiks' (the party bureaucrats) who survive and live the 'best' lives. But, is a few 'perks' worth selling your soul to the devil, when at anytime you can be anonymously denounced as a traitor because some one wants your job or your wife? Each man (or woman) has to make his own decision.

Definitely recommended.

Zeb Kantrowitz

The main reason I rate this 4 stars is because the hero makes at least one major decision towards the end of the book that I think he was smart enough to avoid. His reasoning was sort of explained away, but that wasn't sufficient for me. Ferenc why did you do that? Well you can see I was hooked.

I was quite taken by "The bridge of sighs", but then I started on "The confession".

What is it? Not a crime novel, nor a political or historical essay. Or maybe a little bit of each, combined with a well written personal journey (OK, let's add a dash of a beautyful love story). Is this The Story of Eastern Europe under Soviet? I think so.

"The confession" left me sad, but elated. I promptly lent it to my friend.