Folly du Jour by Barbara Cleverly (A Joe Sandilands mystery)

In a letter to the reader at the beginning of Folly du Jour, the seventh installment of the Joe Sandilands series, Barbara Cleverly confesses that is she could travel in time she would choose to go to Paris during the 1920s (in case she couldn't get back, she'd wouldn't mind being stuck there).

To that end, there is a bit of wish-fulfillment in this installment and I don't think I'd recommend it as an introduction to the series. But I would recommend reading it.

Folly du Jour serves as a wonderful, glossy tour of post-World War I France.  In its pages we witness Charles Lindbergh's landing in Paris, hear tantalizing comments about Josephine Baker's banana dance (and get to see one of her performances!), hear all about how Louis Armstrong is playing at a jazz club and even get treated to a possible resurgence of the French apache street gangs (pronounced apachu).

Fortunately, Cleverly is a skilled enough writer that none of these events seem too forced and all eventually become credibly relevant to the mystery at hand. The only exception being Lindbergh's landing (but who can blame a historical fiction writer of any genre for including that event? After all, it's Lindbergh's landing in Paris! And when in Paris...).

As for the mystery itself -- a gentleman rogue gets his throat slit at a Josephine Baker performance; a friend of Sandilands' is found kneeling beside his corpse, drenched in blood, and wrongfully arrested for the murder -- Cleverly includes good versions of all the best mystery plot devices. There's a femme fatale, a mastermind that surprised even me, a veteran armchair sleuth, and a fantastic, satisfying ending confrontation. Sandilands is joined by his friend and French counterpart, a character I wouldn't mind seeing more of in the future.

The gentleman diplomat who is wrongly accused of murder, Sir George Jardine, is equally affable company.

Where most authors would run a risk of doing too much with too many people, Cleverly manages to create a smooth, but engrossing, read. But be warned -- it is somehow lighter, more "fun" than some of the earlier books in this series, although the murder and its motive are brutal. One glimpses some parts of the seedy Paris underground, but doesn't get to be in it. Everything feels like it has been polished to a bright shine and airbrushed with the author's own nostalgia.

And, oddly, Cleverly seems positively obsessed with the word "louche." Don't get me wrong, that is a great word that Cleverly has perfect opportunity to use. But it seemed to crop up at least once every few chapters. It was such a surprising, rookie mistake it was a tad distracting.

Again, however, the story doesn't suffer for this. That being said, I would like to see more on the character development, long-term plot arc front. There was an awkward coffee with a certain lady in the last book...

But then, I suppose that's why we read mystery series, isn't it? 

The Bee's Kiss by Barbara Cleverly (An Inspector Joe Sandilands mystery)

A Bee’s Kiss, the first installment in Barbara Cleverly’s delightful Joe Sandilands series in which the detective is (finally) back in London, is one of the best mysteries the character series sub-genre has to offer.

And make no mistake: I am speaking specifically of the mystery (i.e. the plot) of who killed the passionate, volatile, redheaded socialite-Wren in her suite at the Ritz. (The Ritz in the 1920s? Aside from a candle-lit Victorian library, does the backdrop get any better?)

As a longtime armchair sleuth, I don’t usually put a lot of effort into figuring whodunit—after all, I read character series to relax.

For me, the various investigators—Ian Rutledge, Charles Lennox, Barker and Llewellyn, Maise Dobbs, Bess Crawford, Jane Austen, Jeremy Proctor—are friends of a sort among whom I make regular rounds. When I read another installment in their respective series, in my mind I am dropping in on the good detective, cuppa in hand and ready to be regaled with another of their war stories.

For that reason, character development has a tendency to stick in my head more than the details about the actual cases being solved. I have only hazy memories of some of the specific cases I've enjoyed in the past, but recurring characters remain sharp and vivid in my mind long after those details fade. 

That will not be the case with this Sandilands installment. 

The Ritz (now the Ritz-Carlton) in Manhattan, where the mystery begins. 

In this case, I was surprised not only by whodunit but several other things besides.

Cleverly, who in the previous books has given absorbing, sweeping portraits of life in the British Raj, (ranging from the smoldering Pathun tensions to the cloistered, suppressed life of a sheik’s wife--one among several-- to the sweltering, gem-draped parties of the British nobility during the depths of the Indian summer) proves no less capable of pulling the reader through time when writing about Sandilands in London.

 

The heady twenties, with its liberated women, radical art movement, subtle wealth decay encroaching on the guardians of “Old Money,” and vaguest whispers of impending war are all skillfully woven into one of the most simple—yet complex—mysteries I’ve ever come across.

Even one who isn’t a regular reader of Sandilands series, or a fan of the period, can find themselves turning pages just to keep up with the continually twisting labyrinth of clues. The reader is easily razzle-dazzled by the variety of settings--a poor Russian neighborhood, the tree-lined avenues of the upper-crusts, a country estate home to a happily dysfunctional family--and doesn't mind one bit that they only add to the perplexing nature of the clues that are revealed. 

This is one not to be missed, and has permanently set to rest any qualms I may have had about Sandilands finally making it back to London. Clearly, no matter where the intrepid, romantic, and shrewd detective is, Cleverly’s writing will ensure we enjoy watching him solve the case. 

The Last Kashmiri Rose: Murder and Mystery in the Final Days of the Raj by Barbara Cleverly (Joe Sandilands)

Two things make this particular series particularly enjoyable: 


First, Joe Sandilands, though graced with a dry wit and healthy dose of cynicism, is for the most part a congenial, social and friendly protagonist. A nice twist if you read a lot of series like I do in which the main characters are generally deliciously dark, brooding and haunted. 


Secondly, the lush setting of the British Raj--and the rumblings of its downfall, make a nice combination of classic Victorian mystery meets exotic locale. A well-researched, well-written series that I lPublish Postook forward to continuing.

The Palace Tiger by Barbara Cleverly (Joe Sandilands)

One of the best Sandilands installments to date, featuring Cleverly's usual ability to paint a lush portrait of the British Raj and the accompanying political machinations interspersed with wonderfully vibrant characters.

My only complaint about this series so far would be that Joe Sandilands, our protagonist hero, remains largely static and there is very little in the way of personal development. Although we know who he is, a handsome, intelligent and affable man, we don't really know much about him and nothing seems to change in his personal world. I'm sure, however, that this will not be the case in subsequent books.