BOOK REVIEW | ACTUALLY, I’M A MURDERER | TERRY DEARY

 

BOOK REVIEW | ACTUALLY, I’M A MURDERER | TERRY DEARY

DESCRIPTION
 A hilarious and whip-smart crime novel by the multimillion-copy bestselling author of the Horrible Histories. The perfect mystery for fans of Anthony Horowitz, Richard Osman and Janice Hallett.

 Four strangers on a train. An unlikely introduction:

 'Actually, I'm a murderer.'

 It is 1973 and the lives of four people are thrown into turmoil when sharing a carriage with an unremarkable little man with glasses, on the night train back to Newcastle.

 By the end of the following day, one of them will be dead, one will turn blackmailer and another forced to commit a crime. And all of them will be under the astute observation of Aline, the local police officer with her own agenda to fulfil.

 When the body count begins to rise, the question is: just how many murderers are out there... and who will be the next victim?

Review

An actor, a computer whizz, a solicitor and a murder all get on a train… it sounds like the start of a bad joke, doesn’t it? However, this chance meeting will lead to their lives being upended in dramatic fashion.

Terry Deary’s first crime novel sees him dipping his toe into a bit of Northern Noir that revolves around four disparate individuals.

Told from the point of view of three of the characters, the story follows Tony Davis, a jobbing actor; Aline James, a copper drawn into a web of lies and deceit while also navigating the institutional sexism and misogyny of 1970s policing; and John Brown, the nom de plume of the murderer.

Set in 1973, the story chronicles a series of mishaps that eventually lead to a final denouement in the back alleys and ginnels (a Northern English colloquialism for a narrow alleyway) of deepest, darkest Sunderland.

Now, let’s get this out of the way. Terry Deary is an institution. Author of 350 books, including the Horrible Histories series, his works have spawned a successful TV adaptation and become part of British pop culture.

The story is compulsive in its writing, and the plot weaves its subtle magic over the reader.

One of the admirable things about the book is that Deary does not shy away from the dodgy gender politics of the time. He highlights the institutional sexism and misogyny not only directed towards women coppers, but also how those attitudes seeped into wider society, including the archaic treatment of sexual assault.

Interspersed throughout the narrative is Deary’s love of history, quietly sitting in the background and giving solidity to the world he paints.

The characters are vividly drawn, warts and all. Deary has taken the time to give them believable depth and personality. Tony in particular feels slightly autobiographical, but Deay resists the urge to paint him in a favourable light. Instead, he is portrayed as equal parts feckless and unthinking as he is endearing.

Some people have commented on the ineptness of the supposedly perfect sociopathic killer. However, it’s fair to point out that if everything went perfectly according to plan, where would the fun be? Come on, folks, it’s a book. We don’t need every single detail nailed to absolute realism.

If you’re after an enjoyable, fast-moving read with strong characters, a decent dose of historical realism and enough twists to keep you guessing, then Actually, I’m a Murderer is well worth picking up, especially with a second instalment already on the horizon.