{"id":1656,"date":"2010-07-01T00:02:16","date_gmt":"2010-06-30T23:02:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/?p=1656"},"modified":"2010-06-30T21:08:37","modified_gmt":"2010-06-30T20:08:37","slug":"porfiry-a-poor-pastiche","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/2010\/07\/01\/porfiry-a-poor-pastiche\/","title":{"rendered":"Porfiry: a poor pastiche"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>In response to the disappointment I expressed in my review of Tom Rob Smith&#8217;s <em><a title=\"Not thrilled\" href=\"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/2009\/11\/12\/not-thrilled\/\" target=\"_blank\">Child 44<\/a><\/em>, a reader alerted me (please note: not &#8216;recommended&#8217;) to the existence of a series of crime novels by R. N. Morris set in 19th century St Petersburg, and featuring Porfiry Petrovich. The detective from <em>Crime and Punishment<\/em> is a great character, and he&#8217;s the inspiration behind other fictional detectives, such as Columbo and Inspector Rush in Nigel Williams&#8217; <em>The Wimbledon Poisoner<\/em>, so it makes sense for somebody to take up his further adventures. I was, however, rather reluctant to read them, probably because of my bad experience with <em>Child 44<\/em>, but eventually I took the plunge, got hold of a copy of <em><strong>A Gentle Axe<\/strong><\/em> (Faber and Faber, 2007), took it to Naples with me, brought it back unopened (too much proper Dostoevsky to think about), and finally got down to it last week. I have also been re-reading <em>Crime and Punishment<\/em> itself, so I&#8217;ve had chance to compare the new version to the original.<\/p>\n<p>As a historical crime novel, I think <em>A Gentle Axe<\/em> is perfectly fine. There are a few errors, but I&#8217;ll overlook those.\u00a0It&#8217;s readable, and the plot works quite well. By the denouement the body count is getting so high that there can&#8217;t be much doubt who the murderer is, but if you know your Dostoevsky, you&#8217;ll have identified him in any case the first time he appears as the most obvious suspect &#8212; it&#8217;s quite clear which character he&#8217;s based on, and it is a pretty unimaginative choice.<\/p>\n<p>And this is the overall problem: it uses the Dostoevskian links in a way that it just too thin and too obvious. The text is peppered with names of Dostoevsky&#8217;s characters, but they&#8217;re generally just names. One of the initial murder victims is called Goryanchikov, but he bears no resemblance to the narrator of <em>Notes from the House of the Dead<\/em>, so for anyone who hasn&#8217;t read Dostoevsky it&#8217;s meaningless, but for anyone who has, it&#8217;s a real distraction. Equally, Prince Bykov has nothing in common with his charmless namesake from <em>Poor Folk. Y<\/em>ou start to wonder what on earth these references are for, and the answer appears to be: nothing. Occasionally, a more complex set of references surfaces; Virginsky is a combination of Raskolnikov and the underground man, which is interesting, but his name, taken from one of the revolutionaries in <em>Demons<\/em>, doesn&#8217;t relate to anything.<\/p>\n<p>Attempts to incorporate Dostoevskian themes into the plot also misfire. The proposition, attributed to Ivan Karamazov, that &#8216;if there is no immortality of the soul, then everything is permitted&#8217;, becomes a plot device which is central to the denouement, but it&#8217;s used in such a trivial way that it resembles a playground game more than a route into the psychology of a murderer. Clearly, it could have been the latter as well, if the character had been well drawn enough to make that plausible, but the use of the Dostoevskian prototype appears to be a substitute for, rather than a facet of, characterization, so there&#8217;s no depth to allow such ideas to develop.<\/p>\n<p>And then there&#8217;s Porfiry himself, who really is a pale imitation. I only finished the book\u00a0this morning, and all I remember about Porfiry is that he has pale eyelashes and smokes too much. I doubt I&#8217;d have remembered the eyelashes either, if they weren&#8217;t already part of his characterization in <em>Crime and Punishment<\/em>. But there&#8217;s none of the richness of the original in <em>A Gentle Axe<\/em>, none of the comic buffoonery of Dostoevsky&#8217;s Porfiry, which is so apparently incongruous amidst the tension of <em>Crime and Punishment<\/em>, but plays an essential role in bringing Raskolnikov to confession.<\/p>\n<p>Most perplexing of all, there&#8217;s practically nothing left of Porfiry&#8217;s main trait as a detective &#8212; his uncanny ability to know everything, even before the murderer is fully aware of it. There is a bit of this, but in relation to the wrong suspect, so it functions mainly as a red herring, and again the Dostoevskian reference takes the place of proper plot development. But it destroys Porfiry as a character. He isn&#8217;t infallible at all, and he doesn&#8217;t have any impact on the murderer&#8217;s inner life &#8212; he doesn&#8217;t even have much contact with him, because he doesn&#8217;t identify him until quite a late stage. So again, what&#8217;s left of the original, apart from the name?<\/p>\n<p>Needless to say, after this rather feeble start, I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;ll be hurrying to get my hands on the remaining books in the series.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In response to the disappointment I expressed in my review of Tom Rob Smith&#8217;s Child 44, a reader alerted me (please note: not &#8216;recommended&#8217;) to the existence of a series of crime novels by R. N. Morris set in 19th century St Petersburg, and featuring Porfiry Petrovich. The detective from Crime and Punishment is a [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[3,18],"tags":[91,96,528,89,102,87],"class_list":["post-1656","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dostoevsky","category-russia","tag-crime-and-punishment","tag-demons","tag-dostoevsky","tag-notes-from-the-house-of-the-dead","tag-poor-folk","tag-the-brothers-karamazov"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2MwXo-qI","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1656"}],"version-history":[{"count":37,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1694,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1656\/revisions\/1694"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1656"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1656"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarahjyoung.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1656"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}