The Moth Catcher by Ann Cleeves: A review

During my recent struggles with health issues, I took comfort in returning to some of my guilty reading pleasures. One of the chief among these is the Vera Stanhope mystery series by Ann Cleeves. I've been working my way through this series and this is the seventh entry. So far I've found every book to be tightly plotted with well-drawn characters and plenty of social commentary and philosophical observations on human nature to go along with the puzzle of the mystery.

And they are puzzles. I can never guess who the perpetrator is and that held true in The Moth Catcher as well.

Cleeves had a previous career as a probation officer and it seems obvious that that experience has informed her understanding of the UK criminal justice system and those philosophical observations on human nature that I mentioned. Here, she gives us the tale of two very different human beings who are brought together by their interest in moths. One is a recent college graduate, a young ecologist who has been hired by a couple to house sit and care for their dogs while they are in Australia for the birth of their granddaughter. The other is a middle-aged former teacher who is a bit of an outcast, someone who never can quite manage to fit in. They are both passionate about moths and thereby hangs a tale.

When the dead body of the young ecologist is found in a ditch by a country lane, DI Vera Stanhope is called to the scene. When she and her sergeant Joe Ashworth go to the victim's flat to search for clues, Vera stumbles upon a second body. It is that of the former teacher. What could possibly have led to the murder of these two mild-mannered, inoffensive men? Could it have anything to do with their mutual interest in moths?

In investigating the crime, Vera and her team find themselves looking into the lives and secrets of a group of hedonistic retirees who live in the quiet little community of Valley Farm. The three couples would seem to have no real connection to the victims and no motive for wishing them harm and yet Vera's unerring sense of something out of kilter leads her to take a closer look and focus her investigation there. Vera is a brilliant detective and if she thinks that something doesn't add up, it's time to recheck the calculator!

This was an entirely entertaining book to read, but I do have one quibble with the author. She insists on reminding us in practically every chapter that Vera Stanhope is a fat, somewhat slovenly woman with a bad case of recurring eczema that torments her and she's a control freak in her job. The reaction of people who meet her is always that she is a physically unattractive human being. Okay, Ann Cleeves, we get it! You don't have to keep hitting us over the head with it! The beauty of Vera is that of the mind and the indomitable spirit. Her team, who are her only real family, know and appreciate that. And so do her admiring readers.

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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