25 August 2021

A Song for the Dark Times


How come Inspector Rebus gets better and better? Lee Child asks on the dust jacket of A Song for the Dark Times, and the plain fact is that the books have only gone from strength to strength.  Rebus doesn’t get stale, because for thirty-odd years Ian Rankin has never phoned it in.

The trick, if we can call it that, is that Rebus isn’t a static character.  He’s thickened, over time, and fleshed out.  He’s also failed, in significant ways.  The chief dynamic in A Song for the Dark Times is his relationship with his daughter, but more to the point, the damage done.  He’s haunted by the very real possibility that he can never make it right.

Then there’s the atmosphere, the environment.  Rebus isn’t a solitary, although he’d give you an argument.  The people around him are no more generic than he is.  The gangster, Big Ger Cafferty, back for another go; Siobahn Clarke, the dogged junior partner, now DI; and Malcolm Fox, first given space in The Complaints.  The departure, literally, in A Song for the Dark Times, has Rebus taken out of Edinburgh and dropped on the windswept coastline of the far North, in sight of the Orkneys.  Not remotely his turf.

There is, yes, a parallel investigation back home, under the watchful eye of Siobhan Clarke, and there are tempting overlaps and odd confluences – how not? – but the engine of the story is Rebus out of his element.  Displaced in the physical world, and on shaky legs, emotionally.  He’s never been demonstrative, our John, but he’s self-aware, and his melancholy here is a sort of bass note, pitched low, not so much heard as felt, as if to name it would give it power.

The story is very much a suitable tangle, the buried past, an uncertain future, a climate of anxiety our only constant in the present.  Rankin remarks in a note at the end that the book was begun before COVID, but the process carried forward into lockdown.  There’s a sense of those dark energies in the novel, a lingering PTSD, something I doubt we’ll shake anytime soon. I don’t think A Song for the Dark Times is meant as a fable, but it can’t help absorbing the oppressive forces of psychic quarantine and illness. 


5 comments:

  1. It's been eons since I've read Rankin. I didn't even realize I'd fallen off the wagon. Thanks, David.

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  2. Someone the other day wrote of the importance in stories, and we can relate to shaky relationships with our children. It makes us care and Rebus has kept going for quite some time.

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  3. I've never read this series. Do you recommend reading in order? Or could this book stand alone?

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  4. Barb -
    I'd recommend starting at the beginning, but the first Rebus book I read was RESURRECTION MEN, and then I went back to pick up with KNOTS & CROSSES. On the other hand, you could also start with THE COMPLAINTS, from 2009, the first of the Malcolm Fox novels (and in which Rebus doesn't figure at all, although it takes place in his universe). The two of them don't cross paths until STANDING IN ANOTHER MAN'S GRAVE. I would remark that Rankin can be pretty hard-boiled, along the lines of, say, Dennis Lehane or Tami Hoag.

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