Careless in Red is all about relationships between parents and their child/children. Elizabeth George creates numerous plots and sub-plots all depicting this theme and spins them round and round in the readers head whilst trying to work Thomas Lynley and DS Havers into the story somewhere.
It’s a chaotic and inappropriate mess, barely a police procedural that is very difficult to maintain interest in. I can only assume that something was going on in the author’s life at the time that stimulated this and numerous editors and publishers were at a loss to know how to put a stop to the notion of publishing it (or were simply wanting to gain from it).
The book is set in Cornwall in England where numerous families, past and present have the sort of inter-generational relationships only typified in American soap operas…. All shouting, screaming and slamming doors.
It seems that almost all the characters were named by a committee consisting of, I imagine, Annie Proulx and Charles Dickens amongst others. These characters we learn are named to show respect to England’s multi-cultural society, all Polish consonants with a smattering of redundant vowels thrown in for good measure. With the possible exception of one Cardigan Anorak, George doesn't make Annie Proulx’s mistake of naming her characters after household objects, but we do get Edreck Udy, Jago, Santo and Selevan all sounding like they have just stepped out of a J K Rowling wizard-fest.
So, you have these 6 or 7 or possibly 8 sub-plots swirling round in a dervish manner with lots of aforesaid hysterics and theatrics, some of which are actually related to the main plots, others are there just to add colour and confusion to the proceedings or help George through whatever it is she’s going through.
Pretty soon we start to learn about their sex lives, in a manner that would impress Jung and Freud. As for the rest, if they are not getting it, they are discussing it, often loudly, often with kids in ear shot. The language used is nasty, tedious and belittling.
Now let me make it entirely clear, I am no prude….. I can enjoy reading about sex, watching it enacted in a good movie, or whatever, along with anyone else. But this book goes too far. I want to find a Cornish village where the entire population is so badly named, full of soap-opera angst and obsessed with observing and discussing each other’s sex lives in this manner. This is not the England where I grew up and lived for the first 40 years of my life.
Young’uns are having if off with young’uns and old’uns with old’uns and in numerous subplots, young’uns with old’uns to the point where you suspect the whole village has had Viagra added to its water supply. The language used to talk about this through the characters, police included is crude and just not real in England other than in school playgrounds. Even then, it’s a stretch.
But what about the plot? The detective story? There isn’t one!
Lynley’s in there, as is Havers but that’s about it. There is a local DI who’s angst against her ex-husband we get to learn all about in glorious detail (as well as her relationship with their child of course), but not much else. There is a murder, yes of course, but no one gets convicted and we only feel we have the killer nailed, we’re left unsure.
There are a number of inaccuracies that will annoy a regular reader of English crime fiction never mind English people. Apart from the over portrayal of familial disharmony the book makes its characters use speech mannerisms familiar to Americans but unfamiliar to Brits other than from imported TV shows. In addition there is the use of the word gaol that George insists on slipping in every book in her belief that her regular readers enjoy finding it like the elusive character in where’s Waldo/Wally books.
I could go on…….. but I think by now you have got the message. I like Elizabeth George, I like British police novels (Rankin, Peter Robinson, Reginald Hill) but this book is a disaster. Regrettably…….