Rather Be the Devil by Ian Rankin: A review

Throughout much of Ian Rankin's latest, I was very worried about my old friend, John Rebus. All those years of heavy drinking and smoking seem to finally be catching up with him, and he's suffering from a bad case of bronchitis and perhaps something even more ominous.

Rebus is never one to stay down for long though. Even his creator discovered that several books back in this series when he tried to write Rebus off into the sunset in Exit Music. The man just won't go quietly and keep his nose out of things. He keeps creeping back. He's retired from the police at least twice now, but he can't seem to settle into the quiet life of an OAP (Old Age Pensioner).

He still has his contacts in the Edinburgh police, particularly his long-time protege, DI Siobhan Clarke, who keeps him informed about what's happening. And whenever the police need a Cafferty whisperer, John's the one to call.

Yes, Rebus' nemesis and erstwhile drinking buddy Gerald Morris ("Big Ger") Cafferty, Edinburgh crime boss, is finding it just as hard as his buddy to "retire." He still maintains an interest in the city's crime scene, especially as it relates to his supposed successor, Darryl Christie. When Christie is attacked in his own driveway, the investigation inevitably turns to Cafferty and the call goes out for the Cafferty whisperer.

But even before that, Rebus has been keeping himself involved by looking into cold cases. One, in particular, intrigues him. It's the case of a wealthy socialite who was found dead in a luxurious Edinburgh hotel room back in the '70s. One reason he's intrigued is because of the case's connection to a local celebrity musician and his band. It seems that the socialite may have been having an affair with a member of the band. Anything to do with the music of the '70s is bound to grab the attention of Rebus, the music connoisseur.

Suddenly, with the new case related to Christie/Cafferty, Rebus has two parallel investigations to pursue, but at some point those parallels begin to converge. Is there really a connection between that long ago murder and today's Edinburgh crime scene? If there is one, you know John Rebus will find it.

It's such a pleasure to walk the streets of Edinburgh and settle down in the old Oxford Pub with Rebus, Clarke, and - oh, yes - Malcolm Fox, too. The three of them work together brilliantly as a team, the OAP and the two DIs. The plot hardly even matters; it's the interaction of those characters that keeps us turning the pages.

That's not to say that the plot is not well-constructed. It is just as tightly woven as all of Rankin's plots. It's really rather amazing that he has managed to keep up the quality of this series through, now, twenty-one entries. Generally, in such long-running series there is an inevitable fall-off of quality somewhere along the way, but in this, as in many other things, Rebus/Rankin is exceptional. Long may he continue.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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