Novels No. 118

 

Simon Mason. A Voice in the Night. UK: riverrun/Quercus Editions Limited, 2025.

Here come the Wilkins detective partners again: Ray is black, highly educated, thoughtful; Ryan is smart-ass, insensitive, barely articulate. And Thames Valley police have a brand new head, DCS Rebecca Wainwright, who strikes fear with plans to reform her department. Our bickering two are investigating the killing of renowned but opinionated linguist scholar Joe Emmet who managed to antagonize colleagues and collectors alike in the world of archaeology. Fellow detective Rodney Hare is on the case of a mysterious break-in at the Pelzer Institute where linguists work to decipher bits of ancient languages in Bible-age parchment. Joe’s body was found in pyjamas on a hotel lawn far from home; wife Greta, a molecular biologist, is devastated. His last evening was onstage in a public debate with Sebastian Franks, another scholar that Joe denigrated.

It’s a very difficult murder to reconstruct, twisting through the uglier parts of Oxford. Many surprises await among the “rough sleeper” witnesses, a heckler at Joe’s last debate, a religious fanatic, and kids in training for a life of crime. Not to mention Wainwright’s secretive meetings with the Chief Constable and threats made against Ryan’s little son, cared for by his sister Jade. Searching for a motive and a killer changes course several times, to Wainwright’s annoyance; Ryan is on the edge of losing his job for his impulsive outbursts. But they learn the importance of those old biblical fragments and their value to collectors.

Complex characters lead us around, over, and into the active night in question. Ryan’s colloquial expressions are delightful, adding to a greatly entertaining—as well as baffling—story. Rather irresistible, these guys.

Voices

▪ “Nothing wrong with my behaviour when I’m not surrounded by knobheads.” (15)

▪ “Odd one though, right? Man who speaks twelve kinds of Bible.” (37)

▪ “Half of Emmet’s research fellowships were terminated early. He argued with everybody. ... He criticised everyone, the police, the government, universities, fellow academics.” (71)

▪ “Why is it always me running after homeless guys and always you having coffee with professors and sucking up to the Super?” (131)

▪ Inappropriately, he started to laugh. “We got everything wrong.” (191)

▪ “Joe regularly hinted that he was going to expose things in these collections as fakes; it didn’t always work out, by the way. Too often he was driven by personal animosity.” (223)

▪ “Every day,” she said, “you tell me something new, something hard to believe.” Her voice was quiet but unstable. (263)

▪ “The Super’s blowing her top. If you want to save yourself, stop pissing about and call her now.” (268)

Matthew Pearl. The Award. USA: HarperCollins, 2025.

Cambridge, Massachusetts, is the university town populated mainly by writers, according to writer David Trent who lives there, working furiously on his first novel. With girlfriend Bonnie, he’s just moved into a poorly-designed third-floor apartment featuring a dangerous outside staircase and a weird trap door arrangement. But the unexpected gold bonus is that his idol, admired author Silas Hale, lives in the rest of the house with wife Rebecca. He envisions a lofty new friendship. Alas, Hale treats him like dirt for no apparent reason, in his usual socially abrasive manner. Trying to change his mind becomes David’s overriding obsession. Among his loose circle of fellow writers and their barely concealed rivalry, David pretends they have a thriving relationship.

Actually, David tends to stumble into lies to mask his neediness for recognition, or to avoid disappointing people. When he can’t solve their home heating problem, thanks to a spiteful Hale, Bonnie’s had enough and leaves him. Not much later a call comes to say his published novel has won a prestigious literary prize. Naturally he spreads the news in a state of euphoria—this will certainly earn him Hale’s respect. Then: oh-oh. Before the official announcement is made, he’s told it was an error. Here comes the crime I was waiting for, entangling David more than ever in a turmoil of panic and guilt. Yet all is not lost; Vanity Fair decides to profile him as an emerging writer, and that’s even better than an award.

A bit crazy, a bit scary, watching a man circling self-destruction; snatched from catastrophic disgrace over and over again by external events. Author Pearl has produced a superb satire of the publishing-cum-authors’ gossiping world. And we don’t even need to know what David’s novel was about.

Shots

▪ “Silas Hale doesn’t care about you. He despises us already for being an inconvenience to him, all while you shovel out his car and drag his garbage to the street. If you dropped dead he’d step right over you.” (65)

▪ No matter how much he rehearsed to himself how to explain the award mishap to people, how to slyly convert it all into a lighthearted joke that showed how little it meant, he still couldn’t do it. (79)

▪ “She can write the way a woman shouldn’t be able to.” (95)

▪ “Arrested, David! Silas Hale was arrested for murder!” (129)

▪ “If I could go back in time and go to law school, I would, even though it turns passably intelligent men into automatons.” (145)

▪ “You’re nothing, Trent! A fraud and a failure underfoot real men! I’ll crush you!” Silas was spitting, his eyes bulging. (150)

▪ “There’s nothing wrong with the book, not at all, David.” Barnaby grinned with an open friendly air. “But whatever it is, it’s certainly not award material.” (161)