Reading Martha Grimes

Every year I read Martha Grimes' Richard Jury novels.  I don't read them because the mysteries are taut and hard to solve, although they are taut and hard to solve.  I read them because they are thoughtful and well written—sometimes lyrical, sometimes humorous, but always insightful and deftly crafted.  I read them because I can turn a page and find a fortuitous sentence like this:  "...they came upon a man in a gray coverall, flat leather cap and garden gloves so stiff they could have stood by themselves with the boots in some corner," or like this, "He thought of what she'd said about John McAllister and shivered, as if a door had suddenly opened on rain." 

Like a master artist, Grimes can, with a slight line here, and a shading there, create a world with a tonality and poignancy which extends beyond her scenes and characters.  This is because, I think, Grimes imaginatively lives with her characters.  She takes the time to resonate with their feelings.  She knows, for instance, that a detective friend of Jury's never takes off his coat because he was tragically late one time and failed to save a child's life.  Now he's always ready, always about to rush out the door on a mission of rescue.  She knows about the missed chances, battered ideals and hidden experiences that mar each of us and drive the engines of our follies.  Sometimes she expresses this knowledge with a tenderness and desperation that unshutters haunting emotional truth. Take the time when Jury discovers a colleague has betrayed him.  "...Jury felt something leave him....  He thought it was hope.  And it was gone for good.  If he lived, something that looked like it would come back:  a poor imitation, a shadow, but not the real thing."  Such insights make the reader feel like he's been scraped to the bone.

There are twenty-three novels in the Richard Jury Series, beginning with The Man with a Load of Mischief and ending with (so far) Vertigo 42. All but two take place in England.  I recommend reading them in order for, as Jury's subordinate, Sergeant Wiggins, says of another mystery series, "It's best to go back to the beginning and get to know the characters."  And Grimes' characters are absolutely wonderful.  There's Jury, of course, the Scotland Yard detective who, although struggling with his past as a war orphan, is nonetheless compassionate, charming, and beloved by children and animals.  There's Melrose Plant, a Lord who has given up his title for mysterious reasons, and who enters into the solving of Jury's mysteries with a sort of reluctant enthusiasm.  There's Carole-anne Palutski, Jury's young, beautiful, neighbor, who has her own brand of street wisdom, and there's another neighbor, Mrs. Wasserman, who quadruple locks her doors against her memories of the Holocaust.  There's the sophisticated Diane DeMorney who dresses in white, drinks designer martinis, and knows one impressive thing about almost everything.  There's Marshall Trueblood, an antique dealer with a flare for justice and fashion, and the blush-prone Vivian Rivington, sometimes in love with Jury and sometimes in love with Melrose....

These friends of Jury's, while not quite the "equal temper of heroic hearts" of Ulysses' sturdy crew, are still true to their bond of friendship and to their own code of honor.  They are unstintingly supportive of one another and unstintingly tolerant of one another's foibles.  They are comfortable people to spend time with, and one would wish them for one's own companions.  That is another reason why I am always reading Martha Grimes.  I enjoy being with her characters, and her books feel like home.