The Case of the Missing Books: Where’s the plot?

Ian Sansom’s characters are quirky, irritating, and, for the most part, good-natured. However, his plot is dullsville.

I was intrigued when I saw The Case of the Missing Books on the shelf of Book Oasis (our local used bookstore). As a bibliophile and all around nerdy gal, I like books about books. Also, the cover art is pretty great (I know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but let’s be honest: it matters).

The reader finds Israel, the protagonist, at the beginning of a fish-out-of water story in Ireland. Sansom’s tone seemed reminiscient of Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next series, but then I realized it was only the font. The story is charming at first, with Israel’s frustrations with the local slang and lack of vegetarian fare (I can relate!) but the shtick grows tired after about a hundred pages. It’s fun, but not interesting.

The only rationalization for the wild-goose chase of a plot being so boring is that Sansom is mimicking the dreary, ho-hum Irish everyday life that’s described. But for me, it’s a stretch. This novel would have made a fantastic, lovable short story; funny, palpable characters and a story that could be all wrapped up in less than 20 pages. Here I can actually summarize it in one line: A lazy Londoner looks for books in the Irish countryside. The end.

I was more disappointed because the title, The Case of the Missing Books, sounds like a great literary mystery. However, there’s no excitement or intrigue whatsoever. I just ended up feeling embarrassed for Israel; he’s so out of touch he can’t even grasp at the mystery solving lingo some other characters try to impress upon him. This detail was funny on the surface, but left me asking, what self-respecting book-obsessed librian hasn’t read some Christie, Parker, or Doyle?

Now that I’ve exhausted how horribly boring the book is, I must say I did enjoy learning what NY Times bestsellers of the recent years that Sansom hates. I have to admit, these references to other novels made me smile, if only for remembering how much better they were than Sansom’s stale work. I leave you with a couple of references to these much more quality books.

Israel “instinctively thrust his hand into his duffle coat pocket and pulled out the first thing he found there and thrust it forwards into the dog’s slavering maw – a fine use for a copy of Yann Martel’s Life of Pi”

“He tried shooing the fat clucking chicken by flapping his hands, but it wasn’t until he wobbled his tired cold, beaten up body up out of bed and turned nasty, throwing stuff from his suitcase, books, mostly…In the end it was his paperback edition of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime that did the trick. He knew that’d come in useful one day.”

One other thought: To the average person a mobile library mystery probably sounds boring, this is the first time my English sensibilities have steered me wrong. I’m chalking it up to a fluke.

Art Book

Most folks probably associate Jonathan Harr with his acclaimed work, A Civil Action, but I’ve just finished his newer work, The Lost Painting: The Quest for a Caravaggio Masterpiece. I picked up this book because, I’m always looking for nonfiction that tells an interesting story, instead of generically listing facts. And I’m also fascinated with the art world (FYI: my very favorite artist is Turner)

Harr does a superb job at weaving the recent uncovering of a once lost Baroque painting, The Taking of Christ into an entertaining read. It would be very easy for this book to turn into a snore fest, but Harr shapes these real life art-historians into well-developed characters. Even the “mystery” elements of the story are cleverly told and shape into an intriguing story.

What makes the book successful, is that it is apparent that Jonathan enjoyed researching and telling this story to the world. His excitement about the events over the recent past surrounding the discovery and arguments over the painting is clear through his tone. This makes the book, a book, rather than an extraordinarily long magazine or journal article. He wants the reader to enjoy reading about this story, as much as he loved learning about it himself. Overall, his writing is at arm’s length, very journalistic in temperment, but there are glimmers of excitement and even giddiness when he describes certain events. Most memorable is when the art restorer, Bennedetti considers that the painting he has been asked to restore could be the lost Caravaggio and will become the pinnacle of his career.

As much as I was entranced by Harr’s work, I was curious as to what my friend, a grad student an art history, would think about it. “It’s like what a romance novel is to literature,” he scoffed, “But if it gets people interested in art, then it’s worthwhile.” He added that it’s admirable that Harr did his homework, and was authentic with his facts. “It’s not like it’s The Da Vinci Code.” I know better than to bring up Dan Brown in his company. He hates that he hates it, because he always has to explain to people that he doesn’t hate it for religious reasons, but because it’s an insult to art scholars. So, I wasn’t completely embarrassed by telling him about reading The Lost Painting.

So maybe Harr’s work is a little more “The Joy of Sex” and a little less Harlequin romance? I think so.