The Dark Wives by Ann Cleeves: A review

So, I had my reading list all set, and then I heard that there was a new Vera Stanhope mystery out. Reading list tossed aside, I jumped right into that new book. I regret nothing. I will always drop everything for a new Vera mystery for she is probably my favorite of all the fictional detectives of my acquaintance. I strongly identify with the middle-aged, frumpy, overweight Vera. (I wonder why that is?)

The Dark Wives of the title refers to a stone monument in the Northumberland countryside. But the story itself revolves around Rosebank, a care home for troubled teens in the coastal village of Longwater.

The mystery begins when a dog walker discovers a man's murdered body outside Rosebank one early morning. The victim turns out to be a Rosebank staff member named Josh. He had been scheduled to work the previous night but he never showed up.

At the same time, one of the home's residents, fourteen-year-old Chloe Spence has disappeared. Is it possible that this child committed the murder? Or perhaps that she saw something that caused her to run away?

DI Vera Stanhope and her team are called in to investigate. Her team now consists of the stalwart DS Joe Ashworth and a new member DC Rosie Bell, replacing DC Holly Clarke who died in the previous book in the series, The Rising Tide.

The team has hardly begun the investigation when a second murder occurs. This time the body is discovered near the Dark Wives monument. Vera believes that the key to solving the mysteries will be finding Chloe because she is sure that she must know something that relates to the killings.

Watching Vera work is an unadulterated pleasure. What she lacks in tact she makes up for in an unerring instinct for ferreting out the truth and recognizing it when she finds it. That instinct and her no-nonsense pursuit of the truth have served her well and have earned her the respect of her community. She is a brilliant investigator.

And now I am left to wonder if we will ever get another television adaptation of the books in the series. I don't know if Brenda Blethyn who played the character of Vera so well is still available to play her again. It would be a shame if she isn't. Still, no doubt there is another actress out there somewhere who would be a good fit. Make it so, television producers!

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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