Friday, 21 October 2016
Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch
I saw [a] man watching me from the across the Piazza. What with the proliferation of gay pubs, clubs and chat rooms, it is no longer necessary for the single man about town to frequent public toilets and graveyards on freezing nights to meet the man of their immediate needs. Still, some people like to risk frostbite on their nether regions – don’t ask me why.
He was about one-eighty in height – that’s six foot in old money – and dressed in a beautifully tailored suit that emphasised the width of his shoulders and a trim waist. I thought early forties with long, finely boned features and brown hair cut into an old-fashioned side parting. It was hard to tell in the sodium light but I thought his eyes were grey. He carried a silver-topped cane and I knew without looking that his shoes were handmade. All he needed was a slightly ethnic younger boyfriend and I’d have had to call the cliché police.
When he strolled over to talk to me I thought he might be looking for that slightly ethnic boyfriend after all. ‘Hello,’ he said. He had a proper RP accent, like an English villain in a Hollywood movie. ‘What are you up to?’
commentary: This book came to me highly recommended: Daniel Milford Cottam and TracyK both mentioned it to me. This is the first book in a series, and Tracy’s review at Bitter Tea and Mystery includes a very interesting discussion of Urban Fantasy- her blogpost would be most helpful for anyone thinking of trying the books. For some reason Daniel and I got into a discussion of the books in the comments to a book by Peter Robinson…
I did like Rivers of London very much – it is an easy and entertaining read. A police procedural in a recognizable London has been overlaid with a strong supernatural element, and there is a mysterious plague on the loose: one that makes people unexpectedly violent. Our hero Peter Grant is being trained in a special department for magic investigations. There are hints of Harry Potter, of books like recent favourites The Blondes and Station 11. There are ghosts, zombies, vampires and spells. It is all done with great confidence and humour. And, even better, Aaronovitch has a good stab at describing people’s clothes.
The Division of the Thames, and the Mama and Father of the river, were wonderful – this strand reminded me both of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, and the Jez Butterworth play Jerusalem (featuring Mark Rylance so memorably) – the river daughters in all their glory were particularly well done.
Aaronovitch seemed to be trying to mention as many kinds of popular culture as possible – from Dr Who to Coronation St, from opera (Billy Budd?) to Punch and Judy. Good for him.
There are now six books in the series.
The top picture is of the suave singer-songwriter Ivor Novello in his prime, from Library of Congress. The picture of policeman and clown, from the Tyne and Wear archives, seemed very much in the spirit of the book.