If you’re like me, and you’re like the psychologist heroine of the Frieda Klein Series by Nicci French, you enjoy the cozy things in life. Described as setting up her home in a warren-like fashion, the sleuthing mental health practitioner loves her warm, closed-off rooms. Heat trapped in their confines. When the weather turns even colder, and I turn to British mysteries, I’m reminded of her. Although this post is not about the husband and wife team who write under the pseudonym Nicci French, I would definitely recommend their series about the unlikely but brilliant, pseudo-detective heroine. It’s good writing, with lots of twists and turns. Check out this link here for the first in the series. It would make a great TV adaptation but none so far. Speaking of which, my latest mystery watches have taken a turn for the Scottish. Starting with an excellent series about a young, brash detective solving all the crimes and breaking all the rules to do it. Instead of a young man or grizzled veteran of the force, however, it’s a young, blonde woman named Karen. Subverting the classic, renegade, macho cop stereotype, she’s not only in her twenties but making big moves in the Police Service of Scotland too. Her meal ticket is cold cases. Or, as she says in season two, the police prefer to call them “historic cases.” Much more hopeful. And she does it all with her trusty fanny pack by her side, or “bum bag,” as the Scots would say. Karen’s adventures are based on a series of books by Val McDermid. From my research, it appears there are significant differences between the novels and the TV adaptation. The first time Karen Pirie shows up is in a book called The Distant Echo, but she’s not the protagonist, she strides determinedly in at the end of it. It’s as if the character was so determined to become the heroine of her own story, the author had no choice but to comply.

When it came to adapt McDermid’s crime novels into a series, the writers picked up Pirie’s game piece and put her at the start of that first mystery narrative. A move that makes a lot of sense and gives me hope that every single one of Pirie’s escapades are portrayed on the small screen. Despite her incongruous appearance and relatively young age, she is a tartan noir detective. What is tartan noir, I hear you say (dear reader). I’m glad you asked because there’s a fascinating backstory to the genre. Characterized by a pervading sense of bleak reality and darkness — like most crime fiction in general — it’s Scotland’s answer to the hardboiled detective. Val McDermid herself outlines the major influences behind it in an essay on “The Remarkable Rise of Tartan Noir.” Please check it out because there are so many morsels of information to be found in its reading. Never having thought much about Scotland’s relationship to the rest of the world, it struck me as I read her essay that Scotland is similar to Canada in terms of the unrealistic reputation that precedes it. A Scottish writer called Sir Walter Scott (of Ivanhoe fame) popularized a stereotypical image of the country by penning a series of massively popular historical novels in the 19th century. They were dubbed The Waverley novels after the first book. Waverley is set during the Jacobite rising of 1745, a conflict in which highlanders participated on the side of the rebellion. Following the success of the novels, the tartans, kilts, swords, and shields of their aesthetic became synonymous with Scotland in general. Remind you of anything? It reminds me of the pancakes, maple syrup, toques, beavers, and plaids of the canuck caricature. McDermid smartly ties the development of tartan noir to the beginnings of Scottish control over its own regional affairs. In that burgeoning, almost postcolonial space, a kind of identity crisis ensued (although Scotland was never considered a colony of England and is still part of Great Britain). Side note: for more information about the union of England and Scotland, click here. Much of the discourse around postcolonialism has centred on the kinds of questions McDermid asks in her essay: “What were our values? What made our culture distinctive? What kind of politics did we want to espouse?” She asks us to remember that literature, history, and politics are all deeply intertwined, criss-crossing each other and feeding into each other’s development. And from this space came Laidlaw, widely considered the first distinctly tartan noir detective fiction by Willliam McIlvanney. Baked into the story’s DNA was a desire for the world to see the reality of so many in 1970s Glasgow. As in the American hardboiled detective stories of previous decades, it centred on the working class and the often sombre conditions of urban Scottish life. We can draw a direct line from McIlvanney’s Laidlaw all the way to McDermid’s Karen Pirie. We have many of the Karen Pirie books in our collection, so please check them out. If you’re interested in the show, I could only find it on BritBox. Hopefully, that changes in the future.

The other show adapted from a tartan noir series that’s been capturing my attention lately is Shetland. From the title, you might be able to guess that it takes place on the Shetland Islands in Northern Scotland. Following quintessentially stoic Detective Inspector Jimmy Perez, each season (or series if you’re British) of the show tracks the discovery of a murder, its investigation, and ultimately the murderer’s reveal. Somehow, Shetland does all of that while still providing a kind of comfort viewing. Perez’s assured manner, the way in which he is always confident they will find out what happened to each victim — even the calm, measured tone in which he speaks are all deeply reassuring. It speaks to the enduring appeal of mysteries and detective narratives in general. I’m sure I’ve written about this before, but it reminds me of romance fiction. Both romance and mystery are formulaic genres. We always know how the story ends, and the difference between life and the fictional worlds readers and viewers immerse themselves in is stark. Jimmy Perez is the creation of Ann Cleeves, a British mystery writer who has become so synonymous with Shetland that she’s the face of its tourism website (linked above). If the show is anything to go by, you can tell she has spent a significant amount of time on the islands. There’s a sense of deep affection for and intimacy with the place. As you might imagine, the scenes are filled with beautiful, overcast landscapes. No wonder Cleeves chose the brooding clouds and wind-battered coasts for her setting. The islands definitely lend themselves to the noir aesthetic. I have come to love Perez, his right-hand Detective Sergeant Alison “Tosh” McIntosh, and Detective Constable Sandy Wilson. Shetland‘s creators have had to say goodbye to Douglas Henshall, the actor who played Jimmy, who felt it was his time to leave the show. I can’t imagine watching it without him. We have all the Shetland Mysteries books in our collection, as well as the new Jimmy Perez and Willow Reeves novel, The Killing Stones. This one takes place on the Orkney Islands instead. Ann Cleeves’ stories diverge from the show in a big way. Even down to the woman Perez falls in love with. I am curious to find out the extent of the differences between the two. Maybe these books can entice me away from my British mystery TV viewings. We shall see!

I’ll see you next month for our yearly Top Ten Circulating Books post. In the meantime, stay warm and be well!