Customer Reviews

Murder in the Marais (Aimee Leduc Investigation)

5 star:		(20)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(19)
2 star:		(7)
1 star:		(5)

 

 

"Murder in the Marais" is a good beginning novel. It's descriptive, often intriguing in the construction of the Paris setting and characters. The plot has its moments, and the reader gets caught up in some very intriguing puzzles which inter-weave history, religion, and human passion.

But Cara Black has some fine tuning to do before she can become a truely good author. First, simplify a little. There are too many puzzles which are irrelevant, and details which don't add much to the progression of the story--fashionable coats, torn photographs, footprints leading nowhere. There are a clutter of characters, too: many of them enter and exit without making much impression or contribution to the story.

And finally, there's the heroine, Aimee. She's truely a superwoman: she can leap buildings, kick the heck out of some pretty strong men, and inspire some wolf whistles even after emerging from a garbage canister. She's good in bed, and great with computers. She carries her assistant, the dwarf, around like he's a rag doll, and she saves Paris from neo-Nazis. By the end of the novel, the reader is truly tired--of the convoluted plot, of the over-populated landscape, and of Aimee. It almost felt as if Cara Black was tired of it all as well: the ending came swiftly, suddenly, and without balancing out the complications of plot.

But in spite of those remarks, I will read another novel by this author: there's a great deal of promise in her writing and in her finished product.

I bought the book at a university bookstore because I wanted something to read while waiting for my husband to complete a meeting with an architect and I'd already finished reading the book I had with me. Partly I bought it because of the beautiful buildings in the cover photograph (arcitecture on the brain, I guess), partly because I like mysteries, and partly because, like other readers, the premise intrigued me. Overall, while I didn't love it, I enjoyed it a lot. To say the least, I wasn't as disappointed as some were. While I agree with the reviewer that Aimee Leduc is a bit reminiscent of Stephanie Plum (without the bike shorts, Morelli, and Ranger to save her from herself), I disagree that reading the book was a waste: it wasn't.

It begins strongly with a very interesting question - how much exactly does our past influence our present and, more importantly, the present of those too young to know the past? Specifically, Black asks what happened to all of the Nazis who escaped, who blended into the Allied woodwork. Could they be around still? Could our lives' paths cross? What would happen if they did?

Soli Hecht, a Nazi hunter and old friend of investigator Aimee Leduc's father, hires her to decipher the meaning behind an encrypted Israeli military file containing half of a photo of a cafe in occupied Paris. Aimee takes the case reluctantly, not enjoying personal contact work, as her field is more computer related security; however, she is sucked in by a combination of financial necessity, curiousity, conflicted feelings about her late father, and the corpse she finds while attempting to deliver the results of her initial investigation. From then, the plot grows complicated, even a bit convoluted, with neo-Nazis and shadowy figures attempting to silence Aimee and her partner, Rene.

The best parts of the novel are those involving Paris, its history, its mores, and its inhabitants, especially the WW II bits. Black is at her best when explaining the complex channels through which Aimee crawls (sometimes literally) to complete her assignment. In these sections, atmosphere and setting are crucial, and Black melds them seemlessly into the contemporary crime narrative. I don't care whether her explanations of French political processes are valid - that's why they call it fiction - and criticism of her on this point is petty. After all, if I wanted to study the truth of the assassination of JFK, I wouldn't ask Oliver Stone.

Her weaknesses, although few, are significant. The first is the affectation of the partner. Partners are fine and they certainly enhance a plot. After all, what would have happened to Spade if Archer hadn't tailed Thursby that night? The problem is the partner-as-dwarf. I find it false, far-fetched, and, honestly, a little irritating, smacking of comic relief where none is needed. Specifically, I mean the scene in the morgue in which Rene is out of commission because he's been hung by his suspenders from a door jamb by a bad guy. Couldn't another, more realistic plot device have been found? Also, the dwarf conceit requires Aimee to carry Rene. Literally.

The sceond weakness enters due to the first. Because Rene is a dwarf, Aimee has to be larger than life. She fights like a Kung Fu master, kicking, climbing, and stopping short only of leaping tall buildings in a single bound. While she may be a black belt in some martial art, I find it another affectation. If an author asks her readers to suspend disbelief and live in her relatively realistic world, then her world needs to be. . . well, relatively realistic. The computer genius can be smart, funny, promiscuous, and carry a lot of emotional baggage, but let's not make her a perfect size 6, and able to scale old French buildings in stolen 5 inch heeled designer shoes.

In general, the book was a good read, a quick moving plot (just over a week, according to the title pages), with a clever and resourceful heroine, a lightly humorous tone, and a lot of intersting history. Since this whole reading-for-entertainment thing is self-explanatory, I don't expect much more from a novel. If I wanted to intellectually sweat my way through life, I'd finish my PhD in literature quicker. Instead, I think I'll sit on the beach and read Black's other novels.

Pretty nifty series debut set in the old Jewish quarter of Paris. PI Aimée Leduc is unbelievably tough, occasionally foolish, and sometimes weak willed over the course of this mystery which involves events concerning the Nazi occupation, collaborators, survivors, modern day neo-Nazis, and a somewhat unclear EU agreement. The atmosphere is excellent, and the mystery pretty solid, although it's a shade too fantastical for my taste, with too many coincidences and the unmasked villain at the end is kind of unlikely. And despite the premise that the hero and her dwarf partner (Why a dwarf? smacks of trying to be clever in a throwaway manner.) are computer security experts, I found many of the computer hi-jinks unlikely at best, and a weak way of advancing the plot. The other main flaw was that there were a number of French errors throughout, which is a pretty silly mistake to make in a book set in France. Those minor caveats aside, it's a pretty strong mystery that will make you want to visit the Marais on your next trip to Paris.

I wanted to like this book. I TRIED to like it. Alas, I could not. More ridiculous scenarious unfold in just one day of the narrative than should appear in the entire book. The plot devices seem contrived (e.g., Jew-hater discovers he's half Jewish), and the action laughable. The main character, despite all her swashbuckling chutzpah, could not hold my interest. The writing seems amateurish, and while I enjoy the Parisian references, they seem forced and gimmicky. I'm one Francophile who couldn't stomach it.

Aimee Leduc, the young computer-whiz detective in this terrific first novel, is a compelling creation: brave, confident, smart and street smart, great with a keyboard and a gun. Leduc finds herself engulfed in a murky world of frightened Parisian Jews, old Nazis, and violent young neoNazis as she tries to find out who killed an elderly Jewish woman in the Marais district of Paris. Black's portrait of Paris--both present-day and wartime--is rich and accurate: Paris was and is precisely like this. Her plot is deliciously complex and grips you tight. The characters in Murder in the Marais, even those we meet only momentarily, are well drawn. And most fascinating of all is Aimee Leduc herself, a young woman we grow more and more fascinated by as the plot unfolds. Leduc, who witnessed her policeman father's murder by terrorists, grapples with her private turmoil, but remains proud and capable. I enjoyed her complexity: defending friends, hacking into Interpol, seducing a handsome thug, downing a vicious attacker, and, of course, escaping danger dressed in the latest Issey Miyake. By the satisfying end of Murder in the Marais, I found myself hooked on Aimee Leduc, and I very eagerly await more adventures of this terrific new detective.

Liked the book a lot, great atmosphere, good plot, but the author makes some incredible misstatements about computers. For example: in this book she receives a folder with an encrypted "computer code " (sic?). She says that the client could have faxed it in thus it must be paper. [beware sery semi-technical stuff folllows - A small b&w (2 inches by 4) picture of any resolution, say that of this screen would be 50000 bytes or 400000 bits. If the bytes were printed as letters and symbols (improbable in itself for technical reasons)that would be 25 solid pages of meaningless strings of letters. If this were represented as 1's and 0's it would be 200 pages.] Then she uses "special software' to decrypt
it. Decryption with the password is instant, decryption without a password is an enormous, long task that takes lots of power and time particularly if the user doesn't know what the code represents, text, image or sound.

Other howling defects. SHe and her partner use common names as usernames with no mention of passwords - even naiive computer people would never use a simple single word for any secure system. Their system is zapped instantly by another computer - again, these are computer security people with no firewalls or virus software?

The point of this is not too nitpick but twofold: If the protagonist is an expert is something, this same protagonist shouldn't be wrong every time she talks about her area of specialty. Two, these constant errors of fact just destroy the atmosphere the author creates so well with the rest of her text.

Instead of the expected 'wunder' detective praised lavishly by other readers, I was exposed to the radioactively hyper private investigator Aimee Leduc: thirty-something, sometimes chic, sometimes absurdly dressed in an impromptu disguise and definitely my current favorite to win the "Rambo-ette" title of contemporary crime. Yikes!
Ludicrously, Leduc does it all: hacks into complicated computer firewalls, spelunks the infamous rodent infested sewers of Paris, sucker punches neo-Nazi sympathizers and indulges in a few overnighters with nefarious chance acquaintances. By the time I finished "Murder in the Marais", I was shocked that Aimee had not confessed to being the sister of Batman, so attune was she in sensing danger, so adept at mysteriously appearing whenever she was needed. Please! How could someone so talented be so boring? I don't remember her spending one moment thinking about her real life or her lack of a real life during the entire 360 pages. After cramming 48 hours of punching, kicking, sleuthing, etc. activities into a 24 hour slot, astonishingly, Aimee does not seem to be burdened by at least one suitcase full of complicated psychological baggage. Instead of the 'seen it all' and 'there ain't no surprises' cynicism of the Aurelio Zen genre, Aimee is fueled with an adrenaline boosting fearlessness which seems abnormal, cartoon-ish and just plain impractical. Her purpose is as one-dimensional as her portrayal--'above all--get the job done', but unfortunately this adds little flesh and blood to her character. The reader never likes or dislikes her---we merely plow through all the comic book happenstance and coincidence until the last page wondering when some empathy and emotion will kick in. For me, it never did.
The secondary characters are likewise flat and stereotypical. There is no jolt of electricity that animates them beyond the pages of the book. Even the most controversial players, the actual murderer and an assortment of Jew-hating Third Reicht resurectees appear ho-hum---even their evil deeds do not distinguish them. Rather, we are told they are evil, but it is never really demonstrated in any heinous or different way.
The only redeemable assembly in this B-rated melange is the unlikely unit of Sarah, Thierry, and Helmut. The two stars that I award to this book are for the recounting of their doomed relationship and for the potentially poignant exploration of what could have been---only third hand information is offered in the denouement.
I recommend this book only to those Francophiles who must read everything with even the faintest French flavor.

Do we need still another novel where the bad guy holds a gun on the good guy (in this case a gal) and is conned into telling his unabridged autobiography? Yes, mystery fans, here it is again, the oldest cliché there is. You and I both know that when this stalling technique is applied the bad guy is doomed. Sure the scene is supposedly used to create suspense and provide expositiory material, but gosh I just sit there and fight hard not to throw the book against the wall. It is also sad that the era of detective footwork seems to be over. CSI has ruined that for us on TV, and Ms Black contributes to this technique of overcoming detection difficulties by using technology to fill the gaps. Her heroine gets information by instantly, yes instantly, hacking into any secure computer system she wants to. Yup, she just sits down, boots the computer, and while we are still trying to download our email she has entered the government's top secret computer files.

Might I also ask the question of why are PI story writers so enamored of detectives with physical or mental quirks? We now have private eyes who are encumbered with various stages of bodily paralysis, drinking problems, and to top them all, author Jeff Lindsay has come up with a crime solver who is a psychopathic serial killer (his novels are actually quite entertaining). All Ms Black can muster here is a dwarf sidekick whom bad guys hang up on a coat hook to get him out of the way. His character is left almost totally unexplored.

The novel concerns Nazis (original, huh?) who, not to the jaded reader's surprise, are still milling about in present day Paris. These consist of the modern day "neos", and some who are still left over from WWII, despite the fact that age must be an encroaching problem for most of them. Ms Black has a limited number of characters in the novel, and, surprise!, they all are intertwined somehow. If there are only ten characters in a book, and you know that nine of them didn't murder anybody, well...hmmm. You got it! Character number ten is the very bad person.

Parts of this tale are somewhat exciting, but the writing overall is quite pedestrian. I was going to give this book a 3 star rating, but have deducted one star for the author's cop out fantasy in using unbelievable hacking skills to provide information to help solve the crime.

Black's story of murder in the Parisian Jewish quarter has some very good points. The French atmosphere is sufficiently well drawn to draw me in. (Other reviewers have commented on various errors, only one was so strong as to violate suspension of disbelief for me.) Many of the characters were well-drawn, especially the lives of the secondary protagonist and his war-time lover. Aimee herself does not quite work for me, but that seems as much a problem of plot as of character.

The plot itself, there's the problem. Where the story focuses on the intimate atmosphere of the Marias, it shines. Where it tries to link itself to French national politics and the machinations of an important French politician, it falls flat. Moreover, one should not create a character who is an expert in a field (in this case computer forensics) without enough reseach to make the details plausible. What details are given make Aimee's computer work about as plausible as Sandra B's efforts in _The Net_. (Others have noted the technical errors with firearms.)

An enjoyable read, but needs some serious editing by someone familiar with French language and slang, computer forensics, and firearms. Maintaining a consistent scale might help. (If the adventure is set in a neighborhood, let it stay there -- the story would have been as good without dragging in international political intrigue.) Perhaps another perusal of Raymond Chandler's essay on mystery writing would be of use to the author.

First a confession, I love Paris. This is why I bought this book. And Paris is here. However, France is not.

Cara Black has a little trouble describing the French political system. Prime Ministers are not appointed to five year terms. They can be dismissed at any time by the President. Also, she refers to the cops from the Bureau de Recherche et Investigation as feds. In the United States, we have feds meaning federal police, usually the FBI but sometimes Secret Service or Border Patrol or US Marshals. France is a highly centralized political system. It is definitely not federal. Ergo, the BRI cops are not feds.

It's small points like this that interfered with my enjoyment of this book. The plot, as described elsewhere, involves the murder of an elderly Jewish woman in the Marais and the involvement of skinhead neo-Nazis as well as leftover real Nazis. We get a mix of present and past with a murder from the past having something to do with this latest murder. The story meanders for 250 pages and then, bang, we get another murder, a shootout on the Place de Vosges, a murder made to look like a suicide, two illegal entries, drugs, etc. in the last 100 pages. Suddenly, we move from city speed to light speed.

The story also violates a rule of mysteries by having a second story told from the point of view of a second character. That's acceptable except that it proves to be almost unnecessary. The plot point could have been covered without the extraneous and ultimately meaningless subplot involving an old Nazi coming back to Paris and his memories.

As others have said, I wanted to like this story but....I'll give Cara Black another chance, if only to visit another part of Paris.