I don’t make resolutions because I don’t like to fail. And I can guarantee with a fair degree of certainty that I will fail at any given resolution. We don’t choose easy endeavors like, “I will pursue the perfect black lager.” Rather we choose tricky things that will be challenging, feats that might in fact not be doable.
So this year I foolishly made a resolution. In print. Well, in electrons. I publicly proclaimed my intention to read books that I either started but didn’t finish, or checked out but didn’t even begin reading in 2013. This might not sound difficult, but once I put a book down all interest in it vanishes, even if I thoroughly enjoyed the bits that I did read. I’m also extremely picky about what I read at any given moment and so wouldn’t even be tempted by the most fabulous tome ever penned unless struck by the right mood. So this task has actually been a bit formidable.
“And just how is that resolution going?” you might be asking at this point. Well, let me tell you in a word: Not so good. I’ve not read a single book on my list because new (and old) compelling reads keep tempting me. I am the anti-Carol.
Here are a few titles from my resolution list, and their status:
The Dog Stars by Peter Heller – Checked it out again without reading it. Again.
The Universe Versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence – Purchased it but have not recommenced reading.
The Janus Affair by Pip Ballantine – Have thought very hard about reading it.
Not a spectacular showing on my part.
However, a new resolution has slowly emerged from the primordial ooze of my brain. In keeping with my mid-life nostalgia crisis, I began rereading Martha Grimes’ Richard Jury mysteries. The first volume appeared in 1981, my first encounter with Jury was somewhere around 1990 and since then I’ve read all 22 books in the series (with #23 coming out this month). It occurred to me that I’ve never read a lengthy series, in order, in a relatively short period of time, and I felt the siren’s call luring me into another, possibly ill-conceived, resolution.
This time, however, I feel confident that I can fulfill my contract. Grimes’ writing is fabulous, her characters are charming and memorable, and I have the added incentive of wanting to ascertain how the series has evolved.
So let’s meet the cast of characters, shall we?
Chief Inspector, later Superintendent Richard Jury of Scotland Yard is a morose character, forever colored by the death of his mother in a London bombing raid, somewhere in his forties, attractive to women but unlucky in love, intelligent, caring and determined to carry out justice.
Sergeant Wiggins is Jury’s constant companion on cases. He is an uncompromising hypochondriac but has a way with servants and ordinary folk, and often uncovers useful tidbits of information.
Melrose Plant is wealthy, brilliant and bored. Jury meets him in the series’ first book, The Man with a Load of Mischief, and thereafter looks for Plant’s keen insight to help solve cases.
Additionally, a cornucopia of quirky characters inhabits both Long Piddleton, the series’ initial crime scene, and the building where Jury lives.
This large cast rotates in different permutations throughout the books, and locales vary significantly from case to case, so Grimes is able to create ample variety in Jury’s world. While there is a bit of formula involved, Grimes’ writing is so wonderful and her characters so interesting that I don’t mind similarities from book to book. Of course, we’ll see how I feel after reading a dozen of them.
Cozy in feel yet dark and often gruesome, veddy British yet penned by an American, this series has hooked me like few others. If you enjoy the genre, check one out and prepare to be dazzled. And be sure to bring a fairy cake for Aunt Agatha.