‘Murder on the Farm,’ by Bruce Beckham

One does not look for great variety in Bruce Beckham’s Inspector Skelgill novels, set in England’s Cumbria. Skelgill himself is a thoroughly eccentric country detective, not a linear thinker but intuitive, his instincts honed by time spent in nature. Nor do his subordinates surprise us much. DS Leyton, a London transplant, is stolid but loyal and dependable, the Watson of the team. DS Jones, an attractive young woman, is smart and can be expected to rise in the service. There’s also deep but private attraction between her and Skelgill.

In Murder on the Farm, their publicity-hungry superior agrees to lend Jones to a team of television documentarians who are re-examining an old unsolved murder. Back in the 1970s, a young man was murdered with a shotgun while making a delivery to a posh country estate. Later, two local criminals were arrested and convicted in the case. But their conviction has been overturned, based on police misconduct. There is another possible suspect, an unpleasant fellow who served ten years for a later, similar shotgun killing. The star of the documentary team, a celebrity criminologist, is certain this man is the true killer. He has a plan to unmask him in front of the cameras, producing amazement and high ratings.

Skelgill is concerned, first of all, that the criminologist has sexual designs on DS Jones. But more than that, he thinks the criminologist’s scenario is simplistic. He himself perceives deeper and more sinister possibilities and a wider range of suspects.

Murder on the Farm offers all the usual pleasures of this series: Skelgill’s disingenuous simplicity, political and departmental pressures, Cumbrian food and dialects, wheels within wheels. I enjoyed reading it. No bad words that I recall or gratuitous sex or violence.

Classic Reading: Kristin Lavransdatter

Joel Miller has been reading classic novels this year and reviewed Sigrid Undset’s Kristin Lavransdatter this week.

“If you peel away the layer of ideas and conceptions that are particular to your own time period,” Undset once said, “then you can step right into the Middle Ages and see life from the medieval point of view—and it will coincide with your own view.”

In Sigrid Undset’s skillful hands, it’s impossible to imagine any other outcome.

Lag-rolling

Your humble correspondent is at loose ends tonight. Haven’t finished reading my next book for reviewing. Tomorrow I’m driving up to Fargo, so I can speak to the Flere Lag Stevne (Several Society Gathering). It’s an assembly of bygdelags, which are organizations of descendants of immigrants from particular regions of Norway. They do genealogy and try to preserve traditions. Every lag holds a stevne annually, but some now pitch in and do their stevnes together. This group used to be the Tre (Three) Lag Stevne, but others have joined in this year, so now it’s the Flere Lag Stevne. And I’ll be giving a lecture on my trip to Norway last year to visit the Hafrsfjord Jubilee. It’s the third time I’ve lectured for them.

And, oh yes, I’ll be selling books.

Actually, I’ve just been hired as the editor of the magazine of the Valdres Samband – which is a lag, but not one of the lags at this particular stevne. But I expect I’ll be attending their stevne in the future. They’re the oldest lag in America. Being their editor won’t make me rich but it pays a little, and it’s work I believe I can do decently.

Above, a short video showcasing the work of the Norwegian painter Adolph Tidemand (1814-1876), who is famed for romanticizing the lives of Norwegian peasants. It seems a little sentimental to us today, but at the time it was a social breakthrough – poor people were acquiring some dignity in the eyes of the world. The Haugean movement, of which I wrote recently, had a lot to do with that.

Tidemand’s most famous painting is the one in this video where a man stands on a stool, preaching to a group in a house. It’s called “The Haugeans,” and the preacher seems to be Hauge himself.

You’ll note several paintings featuring young women in bunads (national folk costumes) with golden crowns. These are bridal crowns, a Norwegian tradition. Every bride got to be a queen for a day in Norway.

Probably less so for the remainder of her life.