My sis sent me a Philip Kerr book she spotted, The One From the Other, and although I thought I’d read all the Bernie Gunther novels, this turns out to be one I missed. Philip Kerr died in 2018, so the last book published in the Bernie series was Metropolis. There aren’t any more to come.
If you don’t know Bernie, here’s the short version.
He’s a former homicide bull in the Kriminalpolizei,
who’s turned private. When we meet him in
1936
The gangster ecology is familiar from noir convention, but it feels different, in this terrain. It’s not individual – or entrepreneurial – although that flourishes, too, in the contaminated, feverish atmosphere: the opportunities for random cruelty are everywhere. The menace, though, is institutional. It’s built-in, the mechanics of behavior part and parcel with the political climate. Terrorism is a tool of the state.
Some things worth noting.
The books aren’t chronological.
They slide around in time, from book to book, and sometimes within a single book. This has a counterintuitive effect, that when we zoom in, the immediate focus is even tighter. The idea of a larger context, or that historical distance might soften the moment, is rarely any comfort. Bernie the acerbic Berliner is always ready with some gallows humor, but the gallows itself is never far from his mind. Before whatever it is happens, he anticipates the worst, and it never fails to be more devious and infernal than he’s prepared for.
Which leads to a second observation, about historical or dramatic ironies.
We learn early on in the series that Bernie
survives the Nazis, that he survives the war, but he can’t overcome
memory. The similarities to Alan Furst’s
spy novels, or Eric Ambler’s, of a generation before, are striking; a
character, thrown into the deep end of the pool, keeps their head above water
by grabbing anything that floats into reach.
More to the point, it’s very much of the moment. We,
the reader, know Hitler dies, and the Reich goes down in flames, but the people
in the story don’t. Philip Kerr never
lets Bernie, who’s narrating the books, use a device like Had-I-But-Known. He rarely, if ever, foreshadows. Bernie meets a sociopathic snake like
Reinhard Heydrich, chief of security, and his main concern is hoping the Reichsprotektor forgets his name – not
Heydrich’s looming date with destiny in
As to the matter of voice.
Bernie seems to be talking out of the corner of his mouth, with a lit smoke burning down in the other corner, the ashes ready to fall behind his teeth. He confides in us. And the vocabulary! Kerr was Edinburgh-born. He read for the law, like Scott and Buchan, and began a post-graduate fascination with things German. Here’s a trick, in the Bernie books. Bernie uses a lot of slang, and to my ear, it sounds like idiomatic Berliner Deutsch, rendered as an English equivalent. It isn’t, in fact. I’ve heard some of the real thing, and what Kerr is up to is creating a kind of parallel idiom. It sounds right, and it feels right, in the context, but it might as well be Klingon: he’s making it up, umlauts and all. Which isn’t to say it’s not convincing. And that’s the point.
Kerr wrote the first three Bernie books, the
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