I’m addicted to Fred Vargas so I’m not even attempting objectivity in this post. Every time I turn towards nonchalant Commissaire Adamsberg and his team of eccentric police investigators I’m looking for comfort, to make sure that the villains get their comeuppance even in the most implausible circumstances. And implausible they are!
The set of characters is fixed, the peculiarities of each member of the police precinct already well-known to me: the one who is suffering from a sleep syndrome and had to have a cot in the office for when he falls asleep at odd times, the female constable who is quiet and big, but whose first name is Violet, a small and fragile flower if any, the alcoholic sergent (I can’t possibly get the ranks translated right anyway) who has the deepest and weirdest knowledge of all, the naive one who remembers precisely what kind of coffee each policeman likes… These are like puppets that Vargas handles in a series of expected confrontations. But still she renews her stories every single time by inserting them in new and eccentric circumstances.
This time it’s the French revolution of 1789 and Iceland. I defy anyone to guess how Fred Vargas has put those two together, and I won’t tell you how she manages to go from the first topic to the other. I have no idea if everything she writes about Robespierre is accurate, but I know that she’s a professional historian (who hates travelling) and I suspect that she only tweaked what was necessary for the plot. The story itself is a mysterious maze with lots of characters, but some have argued that like a David Lynch movie, you don’t need to understand everything to enjoy the story if you let the main characters lead you wherever they want to go.
I heard a French literary radio show host say that Fred Vargas makes a combination of Commissaire Maigret and Harry Potter. It’s true that you start with a very traditional police procedural intrigue and it’s soon infused with something mythical, magical. The scenes in the Icelandic fog are full of supernatural. The secret society of Revolution fans who spend their evenings reenacting the Assembly meetings are as weird as a sorcerers’ congress. Vargas requires you to suspend your disbelief more than most crime writers, but it’s really worth it!