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Vanity Fair

by William Makepeace Thackeray

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(page 122 of 867)
— Jan 03, 2026 07:24AM

Jan 01, 2026 01:12AM

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In a House of Lies (Inspector Rebus, #22)

by Ian Rankin (Goodreads Author)

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read in May 2022

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Eyejaybee said: " John Rebus may eventually have retired, after returning to work on the Cold Case Team, but he has not noticeably mellowed at all. [[Ian Rankin]] originally made a point of ageing his curmudgeonly protagonist in real time, taking him from being forty John Rebus may eventually have retired, after returning to work on the Cold Case Team, but he has not noticeably mellowed at all. [[Ian Rankin]] originally made a point of ageing his curmudgeonly protagonist in real time, taking him from being forty years old on his first appearance in [Knots and Crosses] in 1987 to his initial (and largely enforced) retirement from the police force at the age of sixty in 2007, as detailed in [Exit Music]. Since then, however, Rankin seems to have allowed the ageing process to slow down, and Rebus seems still to be in his mid-sixties as this new novel opens. He has, however, been diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD – as one character remarks, trust him to have a condition with ‘COP’ in its name), and has finally (almost unimaginably) given up smoking.

Of course, retirement does not stop him from taking an interest in the doings of his former colleagues. When an old corpse is recovered from a car that had been dumped in Poretoun Woods, on the fringes of the capital, he is particularly intrigued, and is quick to contact his former protégée Siobhan Clarke, now herself a Detective Inspector. The dead person is eventually identified as a private investigator who had disappeared twelve years ago. At that time, he had been retained by a film producer to investigate the affairs of a local property magnate with whom the producer was competing in a bid to buy Poretoun Woods.

At the time of the disappearance the investigator’s family had lodged numerous complaints against the police, ranging from accusations of incompetence and apathy through to outright corruption. Because of that, the discovery of the corpse draws additional public interest beyond what might have been expected, and the investigator’s family whips up a media storm to demand an inquiry. We soon learn that Rebus himself had worked on the original investigation, with an assortment of incompetent colleagues who each had their own secret vice to hide. Being under a cloud was, of course, Rebus’s default setting, but back in the present day, Siobhan Clarke has also had her own brush with disciplinary action. If not exactly vindicated, she has at least emerged with the equivalent of a ‘not proven’ verdict, but the two officers who investigated her seem also to loom large over the present case, not least because they too had been involved in the original investigation twelve years ago.

Rankin has always been dextrous at maintaining several storylines, but this novel has his most complex plot yet. Indeed, perhaps the ageing process has not been as gentle with me in recent years as it has with Rebus, because I did wonder at times whether Rankin was making it as interlaced as possible simply for the sake of it. All the customary features are present – Rebus is as ‘thrawn’ as ever although perhaps Siobhan Clarke is a little less patient than in the past. Rebus’s bête noir, Morris Gerald “Big Ger” Cafferty is present, as beguiling and menacing as ever, and relative new boy, Malcolm Fox (formerly of the Complaints Division) is there too.

The mixture works, although I wonder how many more novels Rankin can wring from these ingredients before the quality starts to fall away. I can think of several writers of long detective novel series that outlived their sell by dates - Peter Robinson and Patricia Cornwell being clear examples to my mind of writers whom I previously admired but whose recent books have lurched from one embarrassment to another, eroding their former reputation a little further with each new outing. Still, I consider that Rankin is a far better writer than either of them, even at their best, so I hope he has sufficient insight to know when he ought to bring down the curtain. ...more "

Dec 31, 2025 02:33PM · see review

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Master and Commander (Aubrey & Maturin, #1)

by Patrick O'Brian

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Dec 13, 2025 11:59AM

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Eyejaybee’s Quotes

“When she bought the cats her mother asked her straight out if they were 'baby substitutes'. 'No,' Ruth had answered, straight-faced. 'They're kittens. If I had a baby it would be a cat substitute.”
― Elly Griffiths, The Crossing Places

tags: cats, elly-griffiths, ruth-galloway

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“Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish—a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow—to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested . . . Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the '80's

tags: gonzo, heaven, life

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“TO MY WIFE To whom I owe the leaping delight That quickens my senses in our wakingtime And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime, The breathing in unison Of lovers … Who think the same thoughts without need of speech And babble the same speech without need of meaning: To you I dedicate this book, to return as best I can With words a little part of what you have given me. The words mean what they say, but some have a further meaning For you and me only.”
― T.S. Eliot, The Complete Poems and Plays

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