A Taste for Vengeance by Martin Walker: A review

I'm still catching up with reviews of books read in the latter part of December. This is actually the last book that I read in 2019, something to entertain in the quiet moments as the holidays wound down.

In this eleventh in the Bruno, Chief of Police series, Bruno has received a promotion. He is no longer only the chief of police for the little town of St. Denis, he now has responsibility for a wide range of territory in the Dordogne region of France which encompasses two other towns with current police with whom he must build a relationship. Bruno, who thoroughly enjoys being the chief in St. Denis and being a large fish in a small pond, is not at all sure he likes the idea of his enhanced authority and responsibility.

Moreover, his efforts to work with the policeman in one of the new towns under his jurisdiction prove problematic when it turns out the man seems to spend most of his day drinking. He's not someone on whom Bruno can rely.

Fortunately, the head policewoman in the other town seems very proficient. She is definitely a keeper.

Bruno learns all of this as he works with them in the investigation of a double murder. An Englishwoman who was slated to attend the cooking school run by his friends, Pamela and Miranda, failed to turn up and efforts to reach her are unsuccessful. Then, her body is discovered in a local farmhouse. She had been stabbed once. The body of the owner of the house is found hanging from a tree in the woods nearby. A suicide note is found. It appears to be a murder/suicide.

But, of course, it is not that simple.

The male victim turns out to be an Irishman hated by the remnants of the IRA who have never resigned themselves to a peaceful outcome of "The Troubles". They instead continue to seek vengeance from those they consider to be their enemies. And that, it seems has been the case in the instance of the two dead bodies.

Because of the international terrorism connection, the national police of France and of the European Union become involved, which allows Bruno's former lover, Isabelle, to put in an appearance. One begins to wonder, is this woman going to continue dipping in and out of his life forever even though it is obvious the relationship is going nowhere? It seems as though Walker thinks, "Okay, time for a little sex to liven things up and provide an interlude!" And so, he brings on Isabelle. I confess to being more than a little tired of her.

The best thing about this book, as in all the series, is the description of the culture, the food, wine, history, and archaeology of the Dordogne region. But there was actually less of that in this one than in most of the books and, for that reason, it was not quite as enjoyable.

My rating: 3 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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