That was the headline for Geoffrey Wansell’s crime column featuring the new Resnick novel in last week’s Daily Mail, and just in case you’re not all fervent Mail readers, I thought I’d bring it to you here …
Daily Mail, 30th May – Geoffrey Wansell
Michael Carlson – writer, critic, sports journalist and cultural commentator – has written a generous piece about the Resnick books and my work more generally. This is his introduction, from his blog, Irresistible Targets. It is, without doubt, one of the most pleasing considerations of my work that I’ve seen and I’m grateful to Michael for it. I’d urge anyone interested in the Resnick books, or the wider aspects of my writing, to give it a little time.
I’ve written a heartfelt appreciation of John Harvey, and his best-known character, Charlie Resnick on the occasion of the publication of the 12th, and apparently last, Resnick novel, Darkness, Darkness. You can find the piece at the Windmill Books website, here, and I’d suggest reading all the way to the end, and following the link to the wonderful John Coltrane version of Tadd Dameron’s ‘Good Bait’, to which I refer in the text (Resnick prefers Eric Dolphy’s version, by the way). Ave et vale, Resnick.
Intrigued and not a little pleased to find myself mentioned – positively – in the acknowledgments at the back of Pierre Lemaitre’s prize-winning novel, Alex.
As ever, I owe much to many other writers.
My sincere thanks – in alphabetical order – to Louis Aragon, Marcel Aymé, Roland Barthes, Pierre Bost, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Cynthia Fleury, John Harvey, Antonio Munoz Molina, Boris Pasternak, Maurice Pons, Marcel Proust and others for borrowing slightly here and there.
I don’t often find myself in such fast company.
Pierre Lemaitre and I will be discussing noir fiction at the French Institute in London on Thursday, 29th May, under the watchful eye of Barry Forshaw.
Lest somehow you’ve missed Marcel Berlins’ review of Darkness, Darkness in Saturday’s Times, here it is …
A RICH SEAM OF MYSTERY
Darkness, Darkness is the twelfth and final novel in the superb series featuring the Nottingham copper, Charlie Resnick, and what a terrific farewell it is. Published on the 30th anniversary of the miners’ strike, it is both a masterful mystery and a moving homage to the events witnessed by the author. The body of a young woman is discovered during demolition works; she’d disappeared during the strike of 1984. Resnick, now in semi-retirement and not in good health, is sent to investigate on the basis that he’d been an inspector during the disturbances, and was familiar with the area and its people. His return three decades later fills him with regrets, nostalgia and the melancholy of passing years. The jazz-loving Pole made his first appearance in 1989. His exit is a brilliant farewell.
I shall be discussing Darkness, Darkness and the other Resnick novels with Marcel Berlins on the Good Energy Stage at the Hay Festival on Wednesday at 10.00am.
I’ve written recently about the, to some, irrational pleasure I derived from my recent visit to the Notts County ground - during which I was interviewed by the Notts Media Team about my support for the team and about writing the Resnick novels and, in particular, Darkness, Darkness, and you can watch the interview – and catch a glimpse of me walking down the tunnel and out onto the pitch here …
Just scroll down and watch the video.
Hylda Sims’ long-running Fourth Friday Club (Hylda, whom I first encountered when she was singing with the City Ramblers skiffle group in Soho many moons ago) and a first chance to read from the new book of poetry.
Floor readings, guest poets, musicians; the basement room in the Poetry Café, as usual, pretty full. Seven readings from the floor tonight and all accomplished, far from duff. (Not, as Hylda pointed out, always the case.) The two other poets on the bill, Alan Murray and Ray Harper, I’ve never heard read before, but am pleased to hear them now – Alan, measured, serious, philosophical; Ray, richer of voice & humour perhaps, more immediate. Music is from the very fine Liz Simcock Band, Liz in fine and confident voice and enjoying the crowd’s response.
Nudged towards it by one of Alan’s poems summoning ghosts, and remembering the scene in David Hare’s Page Eight, in which Bill Nighy’s character shows Rachel Weisz a video of Billie Holiday and Lester Young towards the ends of their lives, I start with an oldie, “Ghost of A Chance”, Lester sensing the coming of his own endgame, the final chorus. From there, one of the new poems, “The Light This Morning”, dedicated to the American poet, Nancy Nielsen; “Apparently”, for another poet, Matthew Caley; into the back catalogue for “Lilac” and then, to close, a new long poem, “Winter Notebook”, revolving round Dickens’ Great Expectations, friendship and family, birth and dying, and dedicated to Robert Hass.
It goes well. I’m pleased, happy. Safe journey home.
To paraphrase the bald guy on Masterchef, days don’t get much better than this … and this was the official publication day for Darkness, Darkness, after all.
Thursday in Nottingham began in the studios of BBC Radio Nottingham, chatting to Mark Dennison about the new novel on the morning show, after which I strolled along the canal to Meadow Lane and the Notts County Ground, where I was welcomed by the Notts Media Team, given an well-informed and fascinating tour of the ‘backstage’ areas – dressing rooms, treatment room, ice baths et cetera – before experiencing the thrill – and that’s what it was – of walking down the tunnel and out into the stadium and very edge of the pitch (which, sadly, I couldn’t set foot on, as it’s being reseeded). Not only that, as an early renewing season ticket holder, I was inaugurated into The Bench and allowed to take my seat in the second row of said bench, as if awaiting the call from Shaun Derry to warm up before being sent on as substitute.
In the afternoon, there was time, between showers, to revisit the Somewhat Abstract show at Nottingham Contemporary, in particular the room I’ve written about before on this blog, which contains a couple of marvellous – and quite different – Frank Auerbachs, a Sickert and a Bomberg, and Gustav Metzger’s To Crawl Into – Anschluss, Vienna, March 1938 – and then cross town to the Castle and their current show Painter, Painter, featuring large scale works by Fiona Rae and Dan Perfect.
Which left a walk round the large and beautiful Paul Smith shop on Low Pavement, ogling suits I could neither really afford, nor, in some cases, get away with wearing, and an early supper at Carluccio’s, before retracing my steps along Angel Row to Waterstone’s for the evening’s event.
Paul Smith Shop: Willoughby House
Support for the books – the Resnick novels, in particular – has always been strong in the city, and events at this particular branch of Waterstone’s, well-attended, but this, I felt, was special. Perhaps because Darkness, Darkness is the last in the series. The Alan Sillitoe Room was packed with well over 100 people, attention when I read from the novel was rapt, questions were both positive and reasonably searching. There were faces I recognised in the audience – some from the quite distant past – and others that were new to me; the line to have books signed was long and patient and comments people made, about the books in general and the evening in particular, were gratifying.
Walking back to the station, it was as if (cliché coming, but at least it’s in the subjunctive) I were walking on air.
Day to remember.
