All the Devils Are Here by Louise Penny: A review

The latest in Louise Penny's Inspector Gamache series takes the inspector and his wife out of their little Quebec village of Three Pines and on to Paris. They have gone there to be with their daughter Annie who is about to give birth to their granddaughter. Both of the Gamache's children and their families live in Paris now and Annie's husband Jean-Guy Beauvoir, Gamache's former second in command, has left police work and is employed in the private sector. Also in Paris is Gamache's elderly godfather, billionaire Stephen Horowitz. So, it is family reunion time in Gay Paree.

The happy times come to a brutal end when Horowitz is run down by a van while crossing the street. The driver then speeds away. It was all witnessed by Gamache who is sure the "accident" was no accident. Horowitz survives, just barely, and is taken to the hospital in critical condition. When the Paris police seem skeptical that the hit and run was a deliberate attempt on Horowitz's life, Gamache decides to do his own investigation, assisted once again by Beauvoir. When Armand and his wife go to Horowitz's apartment and find a dead body there, a man who had been murdered, that clinches it - an attempted murder and now a murder. It can't be a coincidence.

The investigation into these events takes Gamache and Beauvoir all over Paris, from the top of the Eiffel Tower to the lowest basements of the Paris Archives as they search for the reason for the attacks. There are multiple surprises along the way, some dating from as far back as World War II and the history of the French Resistance, all of which is still very fresh in French memories. The two investigators trace the source of the attacks all the way back to financial moves that were being planned by Horowitz and they learn that betrayal is rife in the world of big finance. Corruption runs deep there and seems to have infected parts of the government, including the police. Whom can they trust?

In a Louise Penny mystery, the story is never just about investigating a crime, or even primarily about investigating a crime. The main point of the story is always about human relationships and about honor in those relationships. The most important thing always is to honor one's family, whether it is one's blood family or the family that one constructs of the friends and people that he or she cares about. That has never been more evident than in All the Devils Are Here where, in fact, all the Gamache family is here and is a part of the investigation. The bonds of family are strained by the challenges they face and by old hurts and resentments but in the end the bonds of honor hold. That seems to be the message that Penny wants to leave us with here: As long as we keep our honor intact, we can face anything and overcome any obstacle. It's a nice sentiment. I'd like to believe it.

At the end of the book, Penny once again gives us a glimpse of the village of Three Pines and all its quirky residents. It feels like coming home.

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. ...

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