Dying Light

Stuart MacBride came to notice last year with the publication of the first DS Logan McRae novel Cold Granite. Having chaired him at the Edinburgh Book Festival, I can attest that he’s as witty and impressive a performer in real life as he is in fiction.

Dying Light finds Logan - Aberdeen’s finest - up against a killer of prostitutes and a homicidal arsonist. He’s also facing the music for leading a raid that led to the serious wounding of a fellow officer and McCrae’s transfer to the so-called Screw-Up Squad. And in his private life, he’s romantically involved with Jackie, a WPC with dubious taste in underwear and a seriously dangerous temper.

So far, so bog-standard police procedural – Rebus with worse weather. Where MacBride carves out a niche for himself is in his use of the scabrous humour that’s more commonly found in the first person private eye novel (his books are written in the third person). This undoubtedly makes for entertaining reading, and the characters gain depth from the insights given by the jokes and amusing descriptions. A particular favourite of mine is DI Insch, whose girth is measured in yards rather than inches (see, I can crack wise too), and who munches his way through different bags of sweeties on his every appearance.

But there is a serious issue here. How appropriate is this humour to the - at times - very violent subject matter? Prostitutes are slaughtered, dogs are mutilated, fingers are not only chopped off but given to the victim to eat. Should all this be a source of mirth? (Yes, I know police people are notorious for their gallows humour, but they tend not to joke in public. Personally, I feel that crime writers have a duty to stress the horror and misery of life before making merry.)

Still, Dying Light is a well plotted, accomplished sequel, and Logan McRae and his sidekicks are engaging company. Readers will decide for themselves whether the witticisms are always appropriate.