1.
Robert Galbraith, 2015, Career of Evil

"Heavy-handed," says the New York Times, adding "lurid and predictable" for good measure.

And I'm inclined to agree. This is the third J. K. Rowlings Cormoran Strike mystery, and it's the one I've enjoyed least.

True, the relationship between the dynamic duo (the laconic, unpredictable detective, Strike, and his capable, quietly powerful partner, Robin Ellacott) remains fascinating.

But there's just way too much going on. No fewer than four initial bad guys, all with revolting habits and reasons to detest Strike. One fades fairly fast, thank goodness, but as Strike and Ellacott hare around England in pursuit of the other three, and new nastinesses emerge with every undifferentiated, casually brutal back-story and every stereotypical urban-underbelly location, it all starts to feel like a particularly incoherent bad dream.

One thing's for sure, though, Ellacott should dump that Matthew guy...

So what's with the translation? Well, I have a tradition of reading these books in Indonesian... It's interesting to see Galbraith's range of English locations rendered into a very different language, and this one certainly broadened my Indonesian gore vocabulary... The much darker atmosphere is noted by many Indonesian bloggers, and apparently, the translator felt "depressed" when working on it...





2.
Keigo Higashino, 2016, A Midsummer's Equation



Notable, once again, for his narrative acumen, Higashino not only dexterously unravels a mystery but also poignantly depicts the plight of a small seaside town, buffeted by the pressures of a declining economy and flagging tourism, and inveigled by the siren songs of the mineral prospectors.

This was not my favourite Higashino, but he will keep me reading. Of course, I love the quiet and understated way he unfolds his puzzles. But importantly, too, I enjoy the depictions of Japan: its trains, its hot summers, its inns, its pubs, its beef tongue and yam and other specialities. Not quite as good as being there, but almost.



3.
Boris Akunin, 2003, The Winter Queen



Well, this was different... Boris Akunin's detective stories, with Erast Fandorin as their lead protagonist, are set in 19th-century Russia.

They now constitute "the most popular series of crime novels ever to emerge from the former Soviet Union... The books have so captured the Russian imagination, that 'Erastomania' reigns among those fans who frequent Russian-only message boards and chat rooms to discuss and fawn over all things Fandorin."

There is no lack of action, that's for sure: "Within the first few pages, a wealthy young nihilist has shot himself in a public park and our hero has uncovered a strange proliferation of suicide attempts by young Muscovites. By the end, we have accompanied Fandorin on a breathless gallop through duels, evil temptresses, doublecrossing agents, ghostly visitations, and several attempts on the hero's life."

And I guess that's my problem with it. It's a bit of a pastiche, and I would have preferred something a little more restrained and elegantly chilling.

"[T]he tone of this novel changes as events transpire," says this review. "It's as if Akunin isn't totally certain what type of book he's writing -- is it a Sherlock Holmesesque mystery, a historical thriller or a conspiracy novel?"

Still, the details of the Russian police service are interesting. And as Akunin apparently crafts each story "as a different subgenre of detective fiction", I may well give another one a go.