Customer Reviews

Small Boat of Green Sorrows

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

 

 

Dan Fesperman's first novel was the highly regarded and John Creasey Memorial Dagger winner LIE IN THE DARK. Never before had I read such an all encompassing detailed account of life in war torn Bosnia. That book ended with the main protagonist, Detective Vlado Petric fleeing Sarejevo to join his wife and young daughter in Berlin. This book starts about five years later. The war is over but Bosnia lies in ruins. Petric, living in Berlin, makes a living working as a construction worker. He receives a visit from a mysterious American, Calvin Pine, who invites him to join in on an assignment for the International War Crimes Tribunal. They want Petric to capture a war criminal in Bosnia. The assignment sounds relatively well thought out and straightforward. He agrees but soon finds it much more than he bargained for. It also calls into question his own father's role in perpetuating atrocities during W.W.II.
The fact that this book was nominated for an Ian Fleming Steel Dagger Award for best thriller is a bit of a surprise. This is definitely not a thriller. It is more appropriate a nominee in the Gold dagger category. The style of writing is much too careful and deliberate for a thriller. The pacing is languid but the descriptions, once again, are detailed and breathtaking. Bosnia is very different today than it was when we last visited it during the war. The resilience of the people is what makes this book linger in the mind. Dan Fesperman does not rush his books into print in that it has been four years since the last one. It is definitely well worth the wait.

This sequel to Fesperman's excellent award-winning debut (Lie in the Dark) picks up Vlado Petric's story five years later, in 1998. We find the former Bosnian policeman in Berlin, where he was reunited with his wife and daughter, and has been working menial construction jobs. In a somewhat heavy-handed prologue, Vlado and his Polish construction mate unearth an old Nazi bunker while digging a trench. This serves notice to the reader that even as the foundation for a new Europe is being laid, the ugly past is always lurking just below the surface. Get it? In a more affecting early part of the story, we learn that Vlado's reuniting with his family (following the events of Lie in the Dark) was not quite the stuff of fairy tales. This ties in to a subplot in which he becomes entangled with a pair of fellow countrymen who swear to have seen a war criminal nearby. This leads him down an unlikely and unnecessary subplot, which links all too conveniently to the main story.

Things really gets going when an American lawyer working for the International War Crimes Tribunal offers Vlado a job as part of a team trying to capture a Croatian war criminal from World War II. This is all part of another unlikely and overly complicated scheme to swap him to the French if they arrest a Serbian war criminal from the more recent fighting. The carrot of a visit home and a possible job are dangled in front of him, and of course he accepts. The trip to Bosnia becomes wildly complicated and dangerous, unfortunately, the pitfalls are obvious to the reader well ahead of Vlado and his handler. The story continues in Rome, and veers into even more wild territory, as dark secrets from WWII hold the power to do significant harm even now. Fesperman's plotting draws upon various real events (the theft of gold from the Croatian treasury, the involvement of Catholic priests in helping war criminals gain new identities, etc.), but it rarely feels plausible.

Fesperman's strength lies in depicting modern Bosnia and the effects of the war upon its people. The book is at its most effective when focusing on Vlado and his family's life as refugees in Germany, or in showing Sarajevo recovering from the war. Unfortunately, most of the book deals in the past and ends up feeling like a Ken Follett or Robert Ludlum thriller. It's not bad, just not as distinctive as Lie in the Dark, but I'll definitely read the next installment in Vlado's story.

After reading Fesperman's first book in this series, Lie in the Dark, I was excited and with the lubrication of a scotch or two downloaded all of the Vlado Petric novels to my Kindle (it is too darn easy). And though I enjoyed this second entry it was not as compelling or gritty as the first. In fact it was a bit clumsy with the "digging up the past" metaphors beginning with a Nazi bunker. And the chase prompted by the plot was more of a travelogue that was not very thrilling for a thriller.

Still Vlado is an interesting character and his wife and daughter have added some additional grip. That is why I stay optimistic that the subsequent efforts will improve because Fesperman has now coughed up the foundation to move forward with these characters. He remains at his best writing about the absurdities and contradictions of the former Yugoslavia and also when he slags the UN for its ineffectiveness. I remain loyal but guarded as I move to the next one.

In this sequel to Fesperman's affecting debut, "Lie in the Dark," it's five years after Bosnian police detective Vlado Petric's escape from war torn Sarajevo. Settled, though not easily, with his wife and daughter in Berlin, Vlado works construction and scrapes by. It's not an easy or satisfying existence, so when an American - Calvin Pine - from the war crimes tribunal at the Hague offers Vlado a job, he jumps at the chance.

All he has to do is help capture Pero Matek, an old Croatian war criminal from WWII, living profitably under an assumed name in Bosnia. The French want him in return for their help with a wanted Serbian general.

When Vlado is let in on the secret of how he was chosen for the job, his whole world is thrown out of kilter and the mission becomes personal. Which doesn't stop it from failing in spectacular fashion, and Matek slips away, as does the Serbian general. The cat-and-mouse chase is on, with various international interests weighing in.

Political compromise, cynicism and corruption dog this mission as Vlado and Pine pursue their man across borders and generations. Vlado, like (seemingly) everyone else, has his own guilty secret, which threatens his sleep and, increasingly, his safety. But the footing is uncertain everywhere and Fesperman keeps his characters hopping, dodging and feinting.

There's no glory in Fesperman's wars, just blood, death, survival and, for some, opportunism. Atmosphere and the shadowy corners of the human heart - even the best of human hearts - are integral to the plot. Character and circumstance are the primary motivators and Fesperman knows how subtly each can shape the other. A Berlin reporter during the Yugoslavian wars, Fesperman writes with authority, intelligence and grace.

At the end of Dan Fesperman's "Lie in the Dark" we left Bosnian Inspector Vlado Petric being smuggled on a flight from Sarajevo to Berlin. The novel's sequel, "The Small Boat of Great Sorrows", picks up a few years later. Living in the German capital with his wife and daughter, Vlado is working as a construction worker when an American named Calvin Pine recruits him for a mission for The Hague. The War Crimes Tribunal needs his assistance on a case that will take him back to his homeland.

It's not until Vlado and Calvin reach the Netherlands that Petric is fully informed about the case. The French are going to be taking down General Andric, a Serb soldier who was responsible for the massacre in Srebrenica. Meanwhile, Vlado and another team from The Hague will be hunting down Pero Matek, a Bosnian soldier who fought with the Croatian Ustasha and massacred many people at a death camp during World War II. Matek is now in his seventies, hiding out in Bosnia, and Vlado is the man for the job.

Unfortunately, the case is one of mirrors: nothing is as it seems. Fairly quickly, Vlado finds himself woven into the case in both a personal and professional manner. Things begin to fall apart, and he isn't sure who to trust or what the truth may actually be. Somehow, the two criminals are linked both to each other and to some dubious diplomatic work that took place in Italy following World War II.

Overall, "The Small Boat of Great Sorrows" is an excellent novel, but I felt that it wasn't nearly as vivid as its predecessor. There were a ton of main characters, and at times I struggled not only to figure out who was who but also to keep up with the pace and plot. There are a lot of things happening in this one, and while it makes for a fast read, I didn't feel that I digested the book nearly as much as I did the one before. If you haven't read "Lie in the Dark", you will probably want to do so before you dig into this novel, as it references many people, places, and events from before. It's a solid follow-up, just not as good as the original.

Dan Fesperman's The Small Boat of Great Sorrows intertwines the horrors of World War II and the Bosnian war in this suspenseful novel of treachery in wartime and its aftermath.

Vlado Petric is an expatriate Bosnian cop, working on an excavation project in Berlin to support his wife and child. Out of nowhere, Petric is approached by an American investigator for the War Crimes Tribunal with a short-term job and a long-term opportunity: help us arrest a Serb war criminal from World War II, which will also help us arrest a Serb war criminal from the Bosnian war. In return, the way will be paved for Petric to return to Bosnia and his law enforcement career. Petric, he is told by the American, is the only one who make this justice possible. Intrigued, and drawn by the possibility of returning his homesick wife to Bosnia, Petric accepts the job. To his surprise and shock, Petric is confronted by ghosts of his family's past, international political intrigue, secrets, lies, and missing gold.

Fesperman, whose novels Layover in Dubai and The Arms Maker of Berlin I enjoyed, has done it again. The characters, both major and minor, are well drawn; the physical settings are evocative; and the plot is involving. Fesperman has demonstrated that the arc of terror can cross generations with extraordinary ease, that even the best governments can employ people of dubious morality, and that dedicated individuals willing to take risks can make critical differences.

After reading Lie In the Dark, which, while provocative and informative, struggled with continuity toward an implausible ending, I approached Small Boat of Great Sorrows with some reservations. With few pages left, no resolution of any of the problems facing the hero had been addressed. Then the author, like pulling a a rabbit out of a hat, has Vlado exit stage left, leaving the problems behind and presumably left to the reader's imagination. The exit was implausible, abrupt, and disappointing.

Small Boat of Great Sorrows was a more polished and complete work. Vlado, no longer alone but with family, becomes a more complete person. The flow of the book is consistent and the action is plausible throughout. The use of various nationalities in conflict, and a glimpse of the entanglement of EU powers in the Balkan genocidal conflict, added to the value of the story. The gradual unveiling of Vlado's family history (there is more than one version) moves smoothly along with no distraction from the action but as a support to it.

The contrasting descriptions of Sarajevo before and after the Dayton Accords, set out in both books, increased my respect for that diplomatic effort. The author draws out the value of normalcy in daily life by focusing attention on Vlado's daughter, Sonja, who came to Germany at the onset of the siege in Sarajevo and, at age 9, had never known Bosnia's anguish. Should the family return to Bosnia? Despite the problems attending the life of a refugee in Germany, were these problems minor compared to what might lay ahead in a region still simmering with ancient feuds?

Mr. Fesperman regained my trust with this effort and I look forward to more of his work.

If you've read LIE IN THE DARK, you'll want to read this. However, don't expect the raw realism of the first book. One can not fault Fesperman's background. However, there seems to be a bit less certainty as to where exctly the author wanted to go with this. However, it remains a satisfying follow up to the first book.

This is actually a sequel, of sorts, to a book that I haven't read, but it's "stand alone" and the earlier book is not required to thoroughly enjoy this one.

Our protagonist is an honest former policeman from Bosnia now living and working at a menial job in Germnay. He is "recruited" to help the War Crimes Tribunal from the Hague capture an old man who is accused of atrocities during World War II. He goes along because he has no choice (to find out why you should read the book), and the action becomes fast and furious. Old memories of the war's aftermath are rekindled and we go to Bosnia and eventually to Italy where the denouement takes place.

I found the characters very well drawn, and the reader is quickly drawn into the plot as it races along. It's exciting reading and will keep you occupied for hours turning the pages to see how everything turns out in the end. This is a book that I highly recommend.

This is a pacy thriller set in the aftermath of the Balkan wars. Written by a former US foreign correspondent, it displays great knowledge of the history of Balkan conflict and is effectively written with plot twists and surprises along the way. The plot involves a former Balkan detective tracking a World-War II Croatian war criminal who secreted evidence and bullion in Italy in the chaotic aftermath of the WWII. There are diplomatic and other connections with the current Balkan conflict, and the US intelligence and diplomatic services are involved also.

I had two problems with the book, the first is a minor inconsistency in the plot - how the `baddies' could not have accessed the bullion in the confused years of the 1990's Balkan conflict - some of the plot depends on various characters racing to Italy to retrieve the bullion at a particular time. The other more serious problem is the dialogue/characterisation - the main characters and some of the significant players are non-American, and yet their dialogue reads as if they are American. Building sites are called `lots' etc. This all reads false to me, but if you can swallow this, the plot bubbles along nicely and the result is a satisfactory thiller.