The One From the Other, by Philip Kerr

The One From the Other

I was looking for an excuse to buy more of Philip Kerr’s Bernie Gunther books. The acquisition of a Kindle provided it. Glad I did, though The One from the Other is far from my favorite of the series.

The Bernie Gunther novels, in case you’re not familiar with them, are classic Hardboiled mysteries in the Raymond Chandler tradition, except that they’re set in Germany, beginning in the 1930s. Bernie, the hero, is a sometime policeman and sometime private detective, a decent man living a life of quiet desperation, trying to retain both his pulse and his integrity in an increasingly Kafkaesque environment. His success at the latter has been mixed, at best.

After a flashback prologue, The One From the Other opens in 1949. Bernie is attempting, with no success, to run a hotel in Dachau. After a strange encounter with an American CIA agent, he admits he’s in the wrong business and moves to Munich, to set up shop as a detective again. He moves his wife, who is institutionalized with clinical depression, to that city as well, where she soon dies.

He is hired by a beautiful woman to look for her husband, a fugitive war criminal. A Catholic, she wants to remarry and needs proof of his death. This sets Bernie on a convoluted trail that leads him to discover dead bodies, get beaten up and shot at, and lose a finger. Gradually a complex conspiracy is revealed, involving a secret organization of ex-Nazis, the CIA, and the Catholic Church.

Frankly, I thought Kerr leaned too much on plot clichés this time out. Sinister CIA and Roman Catholic conspiracies have been done to death, and have (frankly) gotten offensive. He might have tried to surprise us a little.

But all that is redeemed, for me, by the interesting character of Bernie Gunther and the remarkable hard-boiled prose, such as this:

Starnberg itself was a smallish town built in terraces at the north end of the Würmsee…. The sapphire blue water was studded with yachts that shone like diamonds in the morning sunlight. It was overlooked by the ancient castle of the dukes of Bavaria. “Scenic” hardly covered it. After only a minute of looking at Starnberg, I wanted to lift the lid and eat the strawberry crème.

As I said, not the best Bernie, but an entertaining read nevertheless. Cautions for language and adult themes.

The Saga of Bjørn

First, thanks to Ian Barrs, whose blog I linked to a few days ago, for his flattering review of The Year Of the Warrior today, at Man Of the West.

Below, behold the Saga of Bjørn. It’s well-done and funny, and even relatively authentic, considering the sort of thing it is. But the theology is WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!

Gave me a chuckle, though.

The Saga Of Biorn from The Animation Workshop on Vimeo.

Tip: Eric at Grim’s Hall.

Meadowland, by Thomas Holt

Meadowland
The Thomas Holt who wrote Meadowland is the same person as the Tom Holt whose humorous mythical books, like Who’s Afraid of Beowulf and Expecting Someone Taller, I’ve praised before in this space.
The same wit is in evidence in Meadowland, his 2005 novel about the Viking discovery of America, but all in all it’s a very different kind of book.
The narrator is John Stetathus, a eunuch and accountant in the service of the emperor of Constantinople in the year 1036. He is commanded to accompany a shipment of gold through Greece to Sicily, along with three members of the emperor’s personal army, the famous Varangian Guard, made up mostly of Norsemen. One of the guards is a large and rather dull young man called Harald Sigurdson, whom Viking buffs will immediately recognize as the future King Harald Hardrada of Norway. The other two are Kari and Eyvind, a pair of elderly Icelanders. Continue reading Meadowland, by Thomas Holt

"The role of a compassionate friend"

Always nice to hear news from the old home town. This story from Fox News is entitled, “Minnesota Man Allegedly ‘Hunted’ Suicidal Victims.”

William Melchert-Dinkel, 48, has pleaded not guilty to two counts of aiding suicide in the deaths of an English man and a Canadian woman. Attorneys for both sides presented oral arguments Thursday to Rice County District Court Judge Thomas Neuville, who has up to 20 days to decide whether Melchert-Dinkel is guilty.

Prosecutors say Melchert-Dinkel, an ex-nurse from Faribault, was obsessed with suicide and hanging and that he sought out potential victims on the Internet. When he found them, prosecutors say, he posed in chat rooms and in e-mails as a woman, played the role of a compassionate friend and offered step-by-step instructions on how they could take their lives.

Melchert-Dinkel is identified as a resident of Faribault, which is my secondary home town. It’s only fifteen miles from my actual home town, and my mother’s parents lived there. Both my folks eventually took jobs there. Since Mom was a nurse, she might even have known this guy.

I note the hyphenated name, “Melchert-Dinkel.” Although it’s not always true, such hyphenization often indicates (in America) a “progressive,” non-traditional attitude to the world. Which sets me thinking.

If you’re a modernist, a moral relativist, what exactly would you say this guy did wrong? Would you say he did anything wrong at all?

A relativist would never concede that suicide is wrong in itself. Nothing is essentially wrong, for the relativist. If someone wants to commit suicide, certainly that’s their own choice, isn’t it? It might be unkind to their loved ones, but we often encourage people to do things their loved ones don’t like, like marrying people their parents reject, or going into careers they don’t approve of. Why should dying be any different?

You could say he did wrong in deceiving these people, but the relativist can’t say that deception is necessarily bad either. Melchert-Dinkel could argue that these people felt they had the company of a caring friend at the end of their lives, and were never disabused of that belief. He could maintain that he’d actually done them a great favor. And if he got a sexual charge out of the experience, well, who does that hurt? Everybody wins.

I often harken back to the words of Wisdom (depicted as a woman) in Proverbs 8:36: “But whoever fails to find me harms himself; all who hate me love death.”

The Bible in English, #309

The King James Bible, published in 1611, was the 309th edition of the Bible in English at that time. For reference, the first hand-written manuscripts of the Bible in English were composed by John Wycliffe in the 1380s.

Height of the absurd, Man Of the West

Just to put your mind at ease—so you can sleep tonight—I’m happy to report that I picked up a new microwave oven today. It’s smaller and more powerful than my old one. Also much cheaper than I expected. What an amazing world of scientific marvels we do live in!

Mitch Berg at Shot In the Dark is upset—rightly—by this appalling story from KDVR TV, Denver Colorado:

ARVADA, Colo. — Arvada Police are defending the way they handled the arrest of an 11-year-old boy.  The Arvada boy was arrested and hauled away in handcuffs from his home for drawing stick figures in school – something his therapist told him to do.

His parents say they understand what he did was inappropriate, but are outraged by the way Arvada Police handled the case. The parents did not want their real names used.

They say “Tim” is being treated for Attention Deficit Disorder and his therapist told him to draw pictures when he got upset, rather than disrupt the class. So that’s what he did.

Mitch says:

Do you think a charter school, responsible to a board elected by the school’s parents and stakeholders, just might have come up with a solution that wouldn’t have embarassed a Soviet komissar?

It’s time to bring back public humiliation – stocks and pillories – for public officials who so utterly transgress the boundaries of sanity, decency and morality itself.

And if the Arvada, Colorado school board doesn’t fire every single party involved, and the voters don’t in turn erase every single member of that school board from any contact with children forever, and the people can stand for that sort of priggish idiocy from their police department, they deserve what they get.

I’m pretty sure “Tim” does not.

You know, I’m getting kind of sick of hearing from educational experts who warn us constantly that if a Muslim child or a “gay” child hears a single word that could possibly be offensive to them, they have probably suffered irrevocable harm, and will have to be put on suicide watch.

But handcuffing an already troubled kid and dragging him off to jail—that’s just part of the process of growing up. Good for ’em. Makes ’em tough.

The whole point of the Zero Tolerance movement is that common sense is inadequate. We need rigid rules, enforced in a draconian manner.

Well, common sense has certainly left the building.

On a more pleasant note, I recommend this new blog: Man Of the West.

It’s written by my friend Ian Barrs, an English transplant to the U.S.

You may possibly recall that I mentioned having a splendid discussion with an expatriate Englishman last spring at the Tivoli Fest in Elk Horn, Iowa.

That Englishman was Ian Barrs. Not long ago we became Facebook friends, and I discovered to my amazement that we have a mutual friend, a guy who’s involved with the U.S. L’Abri Center in Rochester, Minnesota (and sometimes comments on this blog).

Phil will be happy to learn that Ian is a Presbyterian.

Video Game Critics Debate

Here’s an interesting set of letters between two critics of video games, one prioritizes personal experience and story, the other views the games in the context of all games since the beginning of civilization.

Tom Bissell writes about his approach: “I do, however, like to write about how games cross over into affecting, enriching, or profoundly messing with one’s life outside of game-playing.”

By contrast, Simon Ferrari explains: “It’s my contention that games are systems of rules and artificial spaces before they’re stories. And if we want to foster creativity, depth, and breadth in the design of future games, then we need to begin by teaching the reading, writing, and critique of rule systems at an early age.”

Five Seconds of Every #1 Songs

This music sounds like a great pop culture final exam: listen to this track and name as many of the songs you can or the groups performing. It’s five seconds of every chart topping song since the chart began until 1992. I just heard The Temptations singing “War” from 1969. Wow. This is not my field of study or entertainment.

Snow on the roof, Blood On the Sun

Blood On the Sun

Tonight was Part Two of the heavy snow drill. First you blow out the driveway. The second evening, you rake snow off the roof, so that ice dams don’t build up and cause damage. This, unfortunately, causes snow to fall onto your driveway again, because your roof directly overhangs it on one side (if you’re me). Also the snow plow came by today and pushed its usual glacial detritus into the driveway entrance. So that has to be done too.

It would make more sense, of course, to rake the roof first, and avoid blowing out the same section of the driveway twice. But because of the early dark this time of year, that’s not practical unless I want to work by starlight. (Hint: I don’t. Especially when it’s cloudy.) Anyway, the snow plow never comes until that second day, so I have to roll it out and rev it up anyway.

Came in to make supper, and discovered my microwave oven is dead. And yes, I checked the circuit breakers. And I tried it in another outlet. And I tried something else in that outlet.

Tomorrow night: A trip to Sam’s Club. I’m a bachelor. Without a microwave, I’ll starve to death.

No soon. But eventually.

Just a quick review of a book recently finished—the late Stuart M. Kaminsky’s CSI: NY: Blood On the Sun. TV tie-in books can be pretty bad, but this is Kaminsky. He elevated anything he touched.

The plot involves the murder of a rabbi, shot execution-style and then crucified to the floor of a room in his synagogue. Then a suburban husband and wife are found murdered in their home, along with their teenaged daughter, who was molested before death. Their young son is missing, and some of the clues point to him as the killer.

I have a vague idea that I bought this book when it was first published in 2006, and then set it aside when I realized it would be dealing with the issue of Messianic Judaism. This is a sensitive subject, and I feared that even an author of Kaminsky’s understanding would be unable to treat it fairly. I’m happy to report I was wrong. I’m confident Kaminsky’s view of Messianic Jews was very different from mine, but I thought he handled the subject, and the characters, with great decency.

An enjoyable book. Better than the show it was based on.