Family Feud

Louise Penny is threatening to divide our family.

My son-in-law Mike is a huge fan. He’s read everything she’s written, from the first novel (Still Life) to her latest, (How the Light Gets In), for which he stood in line at a recent reading to get her autograph.

My daughter Katherine, also a mystery fan, derides his preference for “teacup mysteries.”

Mike, I should add, is a scientist who relishes hard data, watches football, and builds things, like fences and decks. And he also admires Scandinavian noir writers like Jo Nesbo, hardly a cozy writer. He’s a guy’s guy with a soft side.

And, because I respect his taste in mysteries, I thought I’d give Penny another try. My previous readings of her novels had left me with mixed feelings: I admire her writing, and her complex characters and her way of evoking place, but sometimes have felt she took too long to get to the point.

But I’m changing my mind. After reading Mike’s autographed copy of How the Light Gets In, I decided it was time to start at the beginning. So, I read Still Life, published in 2005, the first of her nine novels featuring Armand Gamache, chief inspector with the Surete du Quebec, and a couple of her subsequent mysteries.

What I’m discovering is that Penny has created a place like no other and a protagonist like no other. Although Gamache lives in Quebec City, his investigations frequently take him to Three Pines, a tiny village in the woods, apparently not marked on any map. This place, a sort of rural Canadian Shangri-La, is home to an assortment of characters who are flawed, generous, mysterious, and occasionally amusing. The closed community setting often means that the term “cozy” is bestowed on a mystery. But Three Pines is not cozy in the usual sense. Although there are comforting sensory elements (especially the café au lait always available at the bistro), the village is too replete with dark secrets ever to be deemed cozy.

And Gamache, singular among all the protagonists in mysteries I can think of, is a good man. He’s complex, yes, and has his share of human failings, but he is essentially a good man. His integrity is the force behind all his investigations, and his compassion helps us see all the characters—even “the bad guys”—as fully formed human beings.

All is not sweetness and light in Gamache’s world: the stakes are high, with murder and corruption in high places a driving force. But the detective, channeling Penny’s views, tells us he believes that  “light would banish the shadows. That kindness was more powerful than cruelty, and that goodness existed, even in the most desperate places. He believed that evil had its limits.”

Maureen Corrigan, book critic for NPR’s Fresh Air, observed that the formula for Penny’s series has evolved into “one part foul play, three parts morality play.” And no doubt about it—Gamache is the moral compass in his world.

Yesterday, How the Light Gets In was nominated for an Edgar, the Mystery Writers of America prestigious award for best novel. If Penny wins, the prize will be among dozens she has racked up over the years, deservedly so. Her assured storytelling and complex, mostly admirable, characters lift her work out of the genre category and well into the realm of literary fiction.

So, sorry, Katherine—I have to stand with Mike on this one. No teacup mystery here. Give Penny another chance. I did and I’m glad.