Customer Reviews

Talking to Strange Men

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

John Creevey could only guess at what the coded messages were for...were they the work of a drugs ring, a protection racket, a spy ring, or something else equally sinister?

Unbeknownst to him, John has stumbled upon some teenagers' spy-game, played out between two rival "centres" based in the city. They play amateurish espionage games, trying always to get one-up on one another, and leave coded messages detailing latest orders and objectives. Recently separated from his wife, John is lonely and slightly depressed, and becomes obsessed with these strange messages. Sometimes, he dedicates whole days to cracking the codes, and eventually these strange messages drag John and those around him down into a tangle of revenge and murder.

This is classic Rendell, which is of course to say that it is crime writing that does not get any better. The mundane details of everyday life ground the plot firmly in a hard reality, but the originality and hints of surrealism cast it into darkness and make it sparkle with something very special indeed. The characters are drawn with brilliant insight - the children playing their inconsequential power-games are brilliant generic creations, and John, obsessing over the codes and messages as they rush to fill the void in his life. Of course, the twin plotlines merge in the end as only a Rendellian plot can, in an understated cataclysm of unexpected brutality. She spins her web with care and tenderness, and then inevitably it traps its victim, horrifically.

In many ways, of course Talking to Strange Men is trademark Rendell. It contains everything we expect, but of course it is also unique in its originality. That she has written over 50 books now and has yet to repeat herself and continues to be original is a truly stunning achievement. Most authors become stale after about ten books. It is testament to Rendell's huge talent that she has not fallen foul of this - she has always refused to stick within boundaries of any kind, and the genre is far richer for her.

This book, also a clever homage to the espionage genre, is another superb achievement from the author. A twisted, strange, compelling piece of brilliance.

This book is a twisted wonder. As is usual in her novels, Rendell paints people who are believably delude, obsessed, and/or simply jumping to conclusions.

In this case, a fragile man sees what he thinks is a covert communications between secret agents. The events he sets into motion are like a demented cukoo clock, a machine-like collision of people, each with their own agendas and confusions, culminating in an act which, to each participant, seems to mean something else.

Rendell is brilliant at not giving us frightening humans; instead, she reminds us how frightening it is to be human.

Rendell again inhabits the territory of the novel here, creating scenes and characters not easily forgotten. Sometimes I have found her creations gratuitously odd...but not this one.
Mungo Cameron takes over his brother's role as head of London Central, one of two rival teenage spy networks who occupy themselves by secretly influencing various events in their world and communicating their plots in coded notes left in drops around London. Another, Charles Mabledene, is originally part of the rival network Moscow Central, headquartered in the private school Utting, but when Charles makes contact and asks to come over to London Central, the issue of trust arises and Charles' loyalty to London Central and his new public school Rossingham must be tested. Thus arises the perceived necessity of his talking to strange (possibly dangerous) men.

There is more than one strange grown man in this book (and a few odd women!). One is Mungo's dad, a chronic but endearing worrier who manages to overlook most things that he really should be worrying about. Another is John Creevey, proprietor of a garden centre, no longer the 34-year-old virgin that he was when he married, but still cuckolded by his wife Jennifer who has moved in with her lover Peter Moran. John's sister Cherry's earlier murder haunts him, as does her obsessive fiancée Mark, who befriends John after Cherry's death and shares secrets that John would prefer not to know.

One villain is predictably repulsive. Another surprises you with his depth and complexity, as does John Creevey, who is well on his way to being an attractive and healthy person by the end of the book. Mungo, like his brother, grows out of his preoccupation with spycraft and moves on to real life. The worst villainy is left for us to imagine, as Charles contemplates his future...

Easily in my top 5 Ruth Rendell list. She takes you into the world of make-believe spy world of some pretty streetwise school age London boys and intertwines the lives of a pedophile and a man obsessed with the death of his sister. Gripping till the end...

John Creevey still longs for his wife Jennifer, who left him for another man, Peter Moran. By accident he stumbles on some coded messages and manages to decode them. Through twists and turns the reader slowly learns about a secret of John's past, Peter's hidden character defects, and the group who sends the messages. Disturbing and engrossing, this is one of Rendell's best.

Rendell again shines her bright light inside the lives of people, through John, for whom she paints a tender tormented picture of a lonely withdrawn man and explains so expertly why he is who he is, and Jennifer his wife, who is so obviously unaware of what it means to be with a nice person and needs to run after people who are bad to her, Martin, Cherry's former fiance, a pathetic ravaged obnoxious case history and the boys in the spy club, a fabulous portrayal of teenagers and their world if ever there was one. I loved her way of expressing the way people who are lonely live, and lie to themselves, and how it's not so different from their more gregarious neighbors, who are just as lonely inside, merely louder on the outside. this woman writes as if she understands the inner workings of every single person on this planet.

A juvenile game and an overly imaginative adult who believes cryptic messages are being left by members of a criminal gang slowly builds up to classic suspense and a twist at the end that hints at how juveniles can "graduate" into the criminal life. The story is slow` in development, but the journey is vastly enjoyable which is generally the case with this author.

By accident, John Creevey, a middle-aged, not-yet-divorced man, stumbles across a secret code drop run by a "mini-Mafia" of young students, the leader being 14-year-old Mungo Cameron, one of the main characters. Their paths later cross when John attempts to communicate with them by putting a hit out on his wife's lover, a known pedophile.

I really got into "Talking to Strange Men" at the beginning, but my interest petered out about a third of the way through when nothing really explosive had happened so far--it's just John pining for his wife and Mungo going about his everyday life at school and home. My interest was piqued again, though, by the end when one of the "mini-Mafia" agents is assigned to tail the above-mentioned pedophile. Despite the book being slow-paced and burdened with too many underage spies and their seemingly meaningless assignments, I'd still recommend "Talking to Strange Men" to mystery readers who're into British psychological suspense, mainly existing Ruth Rendell fans.

This book did not even come close to resolving the conflicts developed in this story. What happened to John, Jennifer, Martin, Mungo, Augus? There was something going on there that was not wrapped up. Are we supposed to think Charles's killing of Peter the END GAME. THIS END [was not good].