Marilyn Stasio, The New York Times Review of Books
Life in the Dordogne region of France looks positively idyllic in Martin Walker’s enticing novels featuring Bruno Courrèges, the chief of police of St. Denis. The village may be fictional, but the delights of this pastoral district — from the chateaus along the rivers to the prehistoric cave paintings to the food on the tables — are very real and essential to the narrative.
THE PATRIARCH (Knopf, $24.95) alludes to the political history of the area, opening at the 90th-birthday celebration of the title character, Colonel Jean-Marc Desaix, an ace fighter pilot and hero of World War II. Although he’s been a guest at the party, Bruno is called back the next day in his civic capacity when another distinguished veteran dies, supposedly of alcohol poisoning.
For something that presents itself as a polite country house mystery, the story takes many surprisingly sharp turns, leading back both to the deprivations of those painful war years and the losses no one wants to revisit. Given the complications of this absorbing case, you’ve got to hand it to Bruno for having the stamina to take long horseback rides, attend wine tastings, whip up elaborate meals for friends and participate in his hunting club’s annual wild-boar roast.
Life in the Dordogne region of France looks positively idyllic in Martin Walker’s enticing novels featuring Bruno Courrèges, the chief of police of St. Denis. The village may be fictional, but the delights of this pastoral district — from the chateaus along the rivers to the prehistoric cave paintings to the food on the tables — are very real and essential to the narrative.
THE PATRIARCH (Knopf, $24.95) alludes to the political history of the area, opening at the 90th-birthday celebration of the title character, Colonel Jean-Marc Desaix, an ace fighter pilot and hero of World War II. Although he’s been a guest at the party, Bruno is called back the next day in his civic capacity when another distinguished veteran dies, supposedly of alcohol poisoning.
For something that presents itself as a polite country house mystery, the story takes many surprisingly sharp turns, leading back both to the deprivations of those painful war years and the losses no one wants to revisit. Given the complications of this absorbing case, you’ve got to hand it to Bruno for having the stamina to take long horseback rides, attend wine tastings, whip up elaborate meals for friends and participate in his hunting club’s annual wild-boar roast.
Robert Anglen, The Republic
Martin Walker’s latest murder mystery could be read in two different ways.
As a pastoral, concerned primarily with the way events — and death — ripple inward. A satisfying and surprisingly intimate tour through a modern French village, full of character and charm. Scenes are depicted with deep interest in the day-to-day lives of police officers, politicians, wine makers and horse trainers; their customs, their food and, God yes, their drink.
It is also a sophisticated political drama that works hard to create a genuine sense of international place, where events move away from the center at an exponential rate. From village police chiefs to district prefects, the Police Nationale, the Ministry of Defense, party leaders and the president. They finally spill over the border, proof that nothing, even the smallest death, is insular.
The beauty of “The Patriarch” is that it works either way and often in compliment. No matter how you approach the eighth book in the Bruno, Chief of Police series, you will appreciate where it goes and what you will get from it.
The book opens at a chateau — where else? — during the 90th birthday party for one of France’s 20th century heroes. Marco “the Patriarch” Desaix, was a WWII fighter pilot who shot down 22 Germans in battles over Syria before volunteering to join a squadron fighting in Stalingrad.
Benoît Courrèges, aka Bruno, isn’t just the chief of the St. Denis police department, he is the only officer assigned to the small town in the Dordogne Perigord region of south-west France.
That distinction doesn’t come with a lot of special privileges, so Bruno is overwhelmed by a chance to attend the party of his childhood idol, who now oversees a St. Denis vineyard. But the Patriarch’s party is soon overshadowed by the death of Gilbert, a long-time friend of the family.
When Bruno is called back to the chateau the next morning he finds Gilbert, a notorious alcoholic, has drowned in his own vomit. The town doctor has already ruled it an accident and the mayor tells Bruno, “You’ll just have to take care of a few formalities.”
Bruno, however, has doubts. He remembers Gilbert from the party and can’t see how the man became so quickly inebriated. At the same time, Gilbert appears to have had nothing anyone would want. He was just an old drunk living off a military stipend in a bungalow on the Patriarch’s property.
Bruno quietly begins to make inquiries, not so much investigating Gilbert’s death as tying up lose ends. He deconstructs Gilbert’s life, his relations with the Desaix family and his past as an intelligence officer.
This is where Walker really shows his skill as a writer. Bruno’s hunt is subtle, methodical. Revelations come as whispers, not gasps. Answers come with deft questions not breathless chases.
That’s not to say the storyline is flat. There is threat and tension to be sure, but because Walker invests so much care in the smallest details, the reader is much more invested in the outcome.
Walker, who was born in Scotland, knows how to tell a believable story. He worked for nearly three decades at The Guardian newspaper before taking a job as an international correspondent for United Press International. He has written several nonfiction books and is a senior fellow at a Washington, D.C., think tank and divides his time between there and France.
Walker uses his experience to imbue Bruno’s adventures with a keen sense of realism. Bruno, who served as a United Nations soldier in the bloody Yugoslavian wars, is convinced Gilbert’s death is rooted in the Cold War and the years he spent in Glasnost-era Russia, when the coup against against Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev failed.
More than that, Bruno also suspects Gilbert’s death might be connected to the Patriarch’s own military service.
The discovery of Gilbert’s will and a hidden source of wealth only lead to more questions. If Bruno’s inquiry antagonizes the Desaix family, they don’t show it. They invite him deeper into the fold, offering him membership in the prestigious Confrerie du Pate de Perigux, a group that dresses in medieval costumes each year to judge the best duck and goose pates.
And with ever so gentle a turn of plot, Walker eases you from French mystery to French culture. He introduces the traditional wine of Aquitaine, a Malbec served at Elanor’s 1152 wedding. There’s an Alsace pastry called tarte flambee and a nicely prepared lamb roast.
There are also plenty of social issues. St. Denis is at the center of a growing conflict between local hunters and an animal rights activist whose efforts to protect local deer have led to massive overpopulation. A fatal accident sets the stage for a showdown between Green and Conservative parties.
And it gives Walker a chance to have fun with readers.
“The Patriarch” in many ways is comparable to vintage wine, a cuvee of disparate tastes, aromas, depths and colors. There are many reasons why it could fail, but it doesn’t. Not even close. Santé.
Drink up.
Martin Walker’s latest murder mystery could be read in two different ways.
As a pastoral, concerned primarily with the way events — and death — ripple inward. A satisfying and surprisingly intimate tour through a modern French village, full of character and charm. Scenes are depicted with deep interest in the day-to-day lives of police officers, politicians, wine makers and horse trainers; their customs, their food and, God yes, their drink.
It is also a sophisticated political drama that works hard to create a genuine sense of international place, where events move away from the center at an exponential rate. From village police chiefs to district prefects, the Police Nationale, the Ministry of Defense, party leaders and the president. They finally spill over the border, proof that nothing, even the smallest death, is insular.
The beauty of “The Patriarch” is that it works either way and often in compliment. No matter how you approach the eighth book in the Bruno, Chief of Police series, you will appreciate where it goes and what you will get from it.
The book opens at a chateau — where else? — during the 90th birthday party for one of France’s 20th century heroes. Marco “the Patriarch” Desaix, was a WWII fighter pilot who shot down 22 Germans in battles over Syria before volunteering to join a squadron fighting in Stalingrad.
Benoît Courrèges, aka Bruno, isn’t just the chief of the St. Denis police department, he is the only officer assigned to the small town in the Dordogne Perigord region of south-west France.
That distinction doesn’t come with a lot of special privileges, so Bruno is overwhelmed by a chance to attend the party of his childhood idol, who now oversees a St. Denis vineyard. But the Patriarch’s party is soon overshadowed by the death of Gilbert, a long-time friend of the family.
When Bruno is called back to the chateau the next morning he finds Gilbert, a notorious alcoholic, has drowned in his own vomit. The town doctor has already ruled it an accident and the mayor tells Bruno, “You’ll just have to take care of a few formalities.”
Bruno, however, has doubts. He remembers Gilbert from the party and can’t see how the man became so quickly inebriated. At the same time, Gilbert appears to have had nothing anyone would want. He was just an old drunk living off a military stipend in a bungalow on the Patriarch’s property.
Bruno quietly begins to make inquiries, not so much investigating Gilbert’s death as tying up lose ends. He deconstructs Gilbert’s life, his relations with the Desaix family and his past as an intelligence officer.
This is where Walker really shows his skill as a writer. Bruno’s hunt is subtle, methodical. Revelations come as whispers, not gasps. Answers come with deft questions not breathless chases.
That’s not to say the storyline is flat. There is threat and tension to be sure, but because Walker invests so much care in the smallest details, the reader is much more invested in the outcome.
Walker, who was born in Scotland, knows how to tell a believable story. He worked for nearly three decades at The Guardian newspaper before taking a job as an international correspondent for United Press International. He has written several nonfiction books and is a senior fellow at a Washington, D.C., think tank and divides his time between there and France.
Walker uses his experience to imbue Bruno’s adventures with a keen sense of realism. Bruno, who served as a United Nations soldier in the bloody Yugoslavian wars, is convinced Gilbert’s death is rooted in the Cold War and the years he spent in Glasnost-era Russia, when the coup against against Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev failed.
More than that, Bruno also suspects Gilbert’s death might be connected to the Patriarch’s own military service.
The discovery of Gilbert’s will and a hidden source of wealth only lead to more questions. If Bruno’s inquiry antagonizes the Desaix family, they don’t show it. They invite him deeper into the fold, offering him membership in the prestigious Confrerie du Pate de Perigux, a group that dresses in medieval costumes each year to judge the best duck and goose pates.
And with ever so gentle a turn of plot, Walker eases you from French mystery to French culture. He introduces the traditional wine of Aquitaine, a Malbec served at Elanor’s 1152 wedding. There’s an Alsace pastry called tarte flambee and a nicely prepared lamb roast.
There are also plenty of social issues. St. Denis is at the center of a growing conflict between local hunters and an animal rights activist whose efforts to protect local deer have led to massive overpopulation. A fatal accident sets the stage for a showdown between Green and Conservative parties.
And it gives Walker a chance to have fun with readers.
“The Patriarch” in many ways is comparable to vintage wine, a cuvee of disparate tastes, aromas, depths and colors. There are many reasons why it could fail, but it doesn’t. Not even close. Santé.
Drink up.
