Lieutenant Kramer and Sergeant Zondi have their hands full. On the same day that an adult entertainer known as Eve is found accidentally strangled to death in her dressing room, her pet python wrapped dead around her neck, a beloved candy shop owner named "Lucky" Siyayo is shot to death at his counter in a botched robbery. The detective duo quickly realize neither death is as simple as it looks on the surface: Lucky Siyayo's cash register was all but empty the day he was murdered, which suddenly throws a whole rash of fatal neighborhood robberies into perspective--were none of them robberies at all? It becomes clear a killer is on the loose, but Zondi and Kramer must figure out what the killer is after. Meanwhile, postmortem analysis reveals that Eve didn't die at the time her ex-boss had stated he'd discovered her body; the more Kramer picks the circumstances apart, the less they make sense. With two very different sets of crimes to solve, Kramer and Zondi set off on treks that take them all over town, from the poorer villages to the sleazy dressing rooms of con artists and pimps to gorgeous steop of the South African countryside in another surefire investigation full of both stirring observations of Apartheid and plenty of mischief. Only one thing is for sure--no one is getting to take his day off this week!
James Howe McClure was a British author and journalist best known for his Kramer and Zondi mysteries set in South Africa.
James McClure was born and raised in South Africa and educated in Pietermaritzburg, Natal at Scottsville School (1947–51), Cowan House (1952–54), and Maritzburg College (1955–58). He worked first as a commercial photographer with Tom Sharpe, who later wrote a series of celebrated comic novels, and then as a teacher of English and art at Cowan House in 1959-63, before becoming a crime reporter and photographer for the Natal Witness in his hometown of Pietermaritzburg.
His journalistic career saw him headhunted first by the Natal Mercury and then by the Natal Daily News. After the birth of his first son, he moved to Britain with his family in 1965, where he joined the Scottish Daily Mail as a sub-editor. From there, he moved to the Oxford Mail and then to The Oxford Times.
His first crime novel, The Steam Pig, won the CWA Gold Dagger in 1971. He resigned as deputy editor in 1974 to write full time. He added to his series of police procedurals based on his experiences in South Africa, featuring the detective partnership of Afrikaner Lieutenant Tromp Kramer and Bantu Detective Sergeant Mickey Zondi.
McClure also wrote a spy novel set in Southern Africa - Rogue Eagle - which won the 1976 CWA Silver Dagger, a number of short stories, and two large non-fiction works that won wide acclaim: Spike Island: Portrait of a Police Division (Liverpool) and Copworld: Inside an American Police Force (San Diego).
After publishing 14 books, he returned to the bottom rung of "The Oxford Times" in 1986, as his police books had made him aware of how much he had missed working with others - his intention being to write in his spare time. What proved his most popular Kramer and Zondi novel then followed, The Song Dog, but journalism soon became all consuming. He became editor in 1994 and three years later The Oxford Times won the Weekly Newspaper of the Year award, beating all comers from across the United Kingdom.
He was promoted to editor of the Oxford Mail in 2000, and spent the next three years on a variety of objectives to enhance the quality and revenue of the county's daily paper. That done, he decided it was time to again step down, and retired to return to writing. He was working on a novel set in Oxford and had just started his own blog when he came down with a respiratory illness and died on 17 June 2006. He lived in Wallingford, Oxfordshire.
Set in South Africa, this police procedural (published in 1979) solves the murder of an exotic dancer whose gimmick is a boa constrictor in her green room. Two white and black homicide cops, Kramer and Zondi, dig to unearth the guilty culprit. Set during the Apartheid era, the racist attitudes are off-putting, but it was also a condition of the times. The liberal use of dialogue also includes slang, and I encountered a little difficulty following the plotline. Even so, the prose style is top notch, and setting gritty. There's a dry sense of humor popping up every so often that I liked. South African McClure (died in 2006) won the CWA Silver and Gold Daggers, so he's a recognized crime novelist as well he should be.
“Snake” by South African journalist and crime fiction writer James McClure is a straightforward police procedural, and is also a time machine as the novel transports us back to a South Africa where apartheid is the once and forever the rule of law.
This book is one in a series of novels about the Trekkersburg Police investigative team of Lieutenant Kramer, a white Afrikaner and Sergeant Zondi, his Bantu partner. The story opens as they are called to a seedy nightclub where Eve, a stripper with a snake act, was found strangled to death by her pet python. But did the snake really commit that first deadly sin? Kramer and Zondi have their doubts, yet investigating the incident as a possible murder involves questioning the club’s prestigious white patrons, a task that must be handled with careful observance to a rigid and unforgiving class hierarchy.
It is another case on which the team is simultaneously working that provides the suspense for this novel. Someone is robbing and killing black shopkeepers in Peacevale, a shantytown outside Trekkersburg. Finding the killers before they strike again is risky for the team in a different way, as they carefully comb the decaying and dismal underbelly of the city’s slums.
Some warnings for the reader are in order. “Snake” is neither a light nor easy read. McClure’s sparse text is telegraphic in its delivery and the narrative makes quick and often unsettlingly abrupt changes in scene and persona. Characters regular to the series pop up with little or no introduction, rather it is left for the reader to glean through references who and what they are. Nor was this novel written with the American reader in mind. Afrikaner slang is used throughout and without explanation for the reader visiting from abroad. That said, it is an engrossing read, a well-written, tight mystery that keeps the reader guessing until the end.
Hard to follow, convoluted story telling, hard dialog to follow. Maybe it's because I'm unfamiliar with the culture and the regional language but there seems to be a lot of details left out for the reader to fill in.
Trojrecenze na tři příběhy vydané v knize 3x Kramer a Zondi
Další vykopávka. Kriminální série inspirovaná 87. revírem, u které je asi nejzajímavější prostředí a doba. Děj se totiž odehrává v sedmdesátých letech v Africe. Autor, James McClure tam nějakou dobu žil, takže tam zasadil svou detektivní sérii, která hodně těží z místní atmosféry a situace. Je to o to zajímavější, když si to spojíme se studeným sedmdesátkovým stylem, který situace jen popisuje, aniž by je vysvětloval, nebo k nim dodával, co si o tom máte myslet, co je správné a co ne. Rasismus je tu prostě norma a i když je to postavené na černobílé dvojici vyšetřovatelů, ani náhodou si nejsou ti dva rovní. Ano, Kramer svého černého kolegu respektuje a občas se ho u šéfů zastane, ale pokaždé je jasné, kdo je tu šéf a kdo bude dělat horší práci a stěhovat nábytek, když bude třeba. Tenhle suchý způsob popisování situace na mě funguje líp – když mi kniha umožní udělat si názor sám. Ono to i ve výsledku líp funguje. Názory, u kterých máte pocit, že jste k nimi přišli sami (i když vás k nimi kniha nenápadně navedla), jsou pevnější než ty, které vyfasujete hned u vchodu.
Hrdinové nejsou extra sympaťáci a neváhají podezřelým vyhrožovat a manipulovat s nimi. Ostatně, sám Kramer na otázku, co je to psychologie, odpovídá, že je to máchnout nohou, abyste kopli podezřelého do koulí – a zastavit se milimetr od nich. (Což zase není tak daleko od pravdy.) Nehledě na to, že se tam ani vůbec neřeší nějaké nevěry, násilí, vyhrožování podezřelým, krádeže, úplatky…
K sedmdesátým létům patří i úsečné a konfliktní dialogy, které spíš nahazují témata, než že by něco detailně vysvětlovaly. Jak se jen máloco řeší více než půlvětou, tak čtení komplikuje ne vždycky dobrý překlad. Každý román překládal někdo jiný, takže u prvního příběhu člověk většinou nechápe, o čem lidi vůbec mluví, u posledního nechápe, proč lidi takhle mluví… a jen prostřední, který dělal Pavel Medek, po stránce dialogů funguje. Byť i tady by stálo za přečtení v nějakém modernějším překladu.
Po té detektivní stránce je asi nejzajímavější to Goosebery Fool/Až se ucho utrhne, kde přichází i zajímavý zvrat a je vám z toho jasné, že liberálové neměli v JAR zrovna lehký život. Ostatní je už spíš klasika, která je na spoustě míst spíše podehraná, takže často jsou některé zásadní věci řečené jen tak mimochodem, nebo zpětně odvyprávěné. To prostředí a detaily jsou na sérii vážně nejzajímavější. Třeba když si v některých chatrčích dělají ženy klacíkem rýhy do hlíny, aby to připomínalo dřevěnou podlahu, co mají bílí a krajky vystřihují z novin. Nebo že je pro místní muže normální mít jednu městskou a jednu vesnickou manželku. A samozřejmě, pracuje se s tím, že někam má Zondi přístup zakázaný… a někde by zase nechápali, na co se jich ptá Kramer. Čili – pokud by po tom někdo chtěl sáhnout, tak spíš kvůli tomu prostředí a detailům, než kvůli příběhu.
Another excellent mystery set in Apartheid era South Africa. Zondi keeps getting more independent and cheekier with the other white officers. Hopefully that doesn't come back to bight him in the ass one day. I find these stories taking place in South Africa interesting because the setting is so alien to Americans, yet familiar enough that you can still empathize with the characters and predict grand scale outcomes.
I like the interactions between Kramer and Zondi. They work well together. Kramer seems to not really care about pissing off his superiors, kind of like Zondi doesn't mind talking back to the whites, as long as the bad guy gets caught in the end. I also like that Kramer and the widow finally got a place of their own.
The initial crime wasn't that hard to figure out. The crime in the black area with the robberies was quite unexpected. The information about the boa was interesting as well.
The eBook was formatted well, with no obvious spelling/grammatical errors. I do wish there was a more distinct separation between scenes though. It's just an extra blank line, so it's sometime difficult to tell what's going on if you miss the extra white space.
Reason read: South African crime writer This was a new to me author. I don't read a lot of crime/detective books but this was alright. I think the author did a pretty good job dealing with South African culture. This book was written in the seventies so I would guess much has changed since it was written. Over all it was good, i had some trouble with the story line. I think there was two things happening but the main thing was figuring out how the girl and her snake died and why. I learned about pythons too. If you like detective/crime fiction you might like this.
The fourth of the Kramer and Zondi books is the weakest one so far. Took me a while to finish. If you're interested in the series, definitely read "Steam Pig" and "Caterpillar Cop." I'd skip this one.
“Piel de Serpiente” de James McClure. Calidad por encima de todo
James McClure dignificó el género policíaco hasta unos niveles insospechados; no hay novela suya que no tenga un nivel calidad elevado; de hecho es la tercera vez que aparece por el blog y, a este paso, cada vez que Reino de Cordelia publique otra, seguirá apareciendo, porque bien lo merece. La última, inédita hasta ahora, es este “Piel de serpiente” publicada inicialmente en 1975 con el nombre de “Snake” nos trae de nuevo al teniente Kramer y al sargento Zondi, esta extraña pareja de detectives en el post-apartheid sudafricano, el “veld” como marco geográfico; esta vez con la inesperada muerte de una bailarina de Striptease que hacía un número con una pitón y una serie de robos extraños y aparentemente sin sentido por la cuantía del dinero robado. En la última novela comentada, ya incidía en los aspectos más típicos, sello de la casa, que la llevan a la total excelencia y que aquí vemos reflejados de nuevo; con McClure volvemos a vivir el duro desequilibrio entre la población blanca y negra en el clima del post-apartheid; en ese estado de las cosas se llega a discutir la posibilidad de que un negro no solo no sea igual a un blanco sino si incluso se le puede considerar un ser humano: “En cuestión de diez minutos, el color de la piel de Lucky se había aclarado, pasando del chocolate al chocolate con leche, empezaba a desprender un olor dulzón y la expresión de sorpresa en su rostro había desparecido casi por completo. -¡Ostras! Sí que hace calor –dijo Kramer, dirigiéndose al sargento blanco con mono color caqui que estaba a su lado. Las manchas de grase en los rasgos planos y compactos del hombre le hicieron pensar en el manual de un taller. -Qué mala suerte, ¿no cree, teniente? -Es mejor que el cáncer. -¿Los negros tienen cáncer? -Sí. -Vaya, cada día se aprende algo nuevo.” De hecho, se le considera algo distinto: “-También lo ha hecho Martha. Hace de todo. Eso sí, he intentado ayudarla a mejorar su alfabetización, pero no quiere. -Los mejores saben cuál es su sitio. -En eso podríamos no estar de acuerdo –contestó Shirley, sonriendo amablemente-, pero naturalmente usted ve una cara de la comunidad africana mucho más sórdida de lo que pueda ver yo. Eso contribuye a tergiversar algo las cosas. -En mi opinión, un cafre es una cafre, se mire del lado que se mire.” Lo bueno es que McClure lo utiliza de dos formas: la primera, ya reseñada, como base de la situación sudafricana, este reflejo de su sociedad de desigualdad sirve como crítica al régimen establecido; la segunda, más sutil, será imprescindible para la resolución del caso por la particularización de la relación entre negros y blancos; ah, claro, hay una tercera forma, evidentemente, la relación entre Zondi y Kramer, una relación de amigos más allá de las fronteras raciales, una relación cargada de buen humor: “-Esa es la verdad. Lo que lo hizo grande fue el miedo de la gente a la oscuridad… la oscuridad de sus propias mentes. -¿Tú qué eres, Mickey Zondi? -Un cafre supersticioso –dijo Zondi, sonriendo de oreja a oreja-. Y usted, jefe, es más sabio que el elefante. -Bueno, yo no diría tanto. Pero una cosa sí te digo: yo no sufro de esta forma por los puntos flacos de mi gente. Al menos no en el trabajo.” La trama sigue siendo más que satisfactoria y no voy a relatar nada sobre ella, los que le descubran ya se darán cuenta de esto; lo que sí quería comentar es un nuevo nivel que aparece en esta entrega y que nos introduce pequeñas reflexiones sobre el género a través de sus grandes creadores: “-Ya, así que queda descartado. Perdone que me haya dejado llevar por la imaginación. Se debe a los libros que lee mi mujer. -¿Agatha Christie o Dick Francis? –preguntó Strydom con interés. -Edward McBain, un caballero americano, me temo.” James McClure revela que una de sus influencias es el gran Ed McBain (visitante también en este blog), pseudónimo de Evan Hunter y creador de las novelas del Distrito 87. Esta referencia cobra más importancia si tenemos en cuenta la progresiva conversión de sus novelas en “novelas corales”; sin quitar el protagonismo a Zondi y Kramer, pero es evidente que los secundarios (Marais, Kloppers, Strydom…) tienen voz propia, hasta el punto de que el sudafricano cambia continuamente de punto de vista en un mismo capítulo para mostrar avances en las investigaciones que serán necesarias para la resolución final poniendo el punto de vista de estos secundarios; de esta manera consigue hacer fluir la narración aunque nos obligue a estar muy atentos para no perder detalle. El resultado final es una nueva muestra del talento que poseía McClure para realizar novelas policíacas; nueva oportunidad para rezagados de conocer a este grandísimo autor. No me puedo cansar de recomendarlo. Los textos vienen de la traducción del inglés de Susana Carral de “Piel de Serpiente” de James McClure en Reino de Cordelia.
A stripper who works with a python is found strangled in her dressing room, with her scaly prop wrapped around her neck. It looks like an open-and-shut case--but is it? And who's killing shopkeepers in the black township of Peacevale on Mondays, when the tills are empty? We learn a bit more about the strange laws of Transvaal, among which the prohibition of selling petrol at night or over the weekend. I guess that's one way of controlling the movements of the populace...or something.
Unfortunately, this particular installment of the Kramer and Zondi saga is not McClure's best work. I like the way he works in just enough backstory without weighing down the narrative with nonessential details, but the important tales are poorly told this time. The narration is choppy; too many people start to say important things only to be interrupted or distracted, and again and again someone will gasp or point or say "Look!" only to have the author cut away to a different plot thread in the very next sentence. Speaking of sentences, many are fragmentary to say the least, which did not help matters. The disjointed stories result in quite a lot of rehashing and telling, as the cops themselves end up totally confused--and this reader almost had motion sickness by the time it was over--only to end the book with yet another retelling of the tale.
I hope this is not an indication of things to come, as I have enjoyed this series so far, but I really couldn't give it more than three stars.
South Africa during the apartheid era is beautifully portrayed in this novel. The mystery genre is one in which all aspects of society can be examined and included in an interesting story. In SNAKE, one of the crimes being investigated by the team of Afrikaaner Kramer and Bantu Zondi involves the white population with clues leading to members of the higher social classes. The second set of crimes being investigated by these two men in falls in the poorer sections of town and what they often referred to as the nonwhites which includes people from Greece and Portugal and India.
James McClure does a good job of highlighting many of the injustices and iniquities of the time and in his subtle way suggests how many of the prejudiced notions were hogwash, while at the same time shows examples of the strengths of the different cultures. Nonetheless there's definitely an excellent sense of time and place in the 1960s in South Africa.
James McClure's detective books are set in Pietermaritzburg in Apartheid South Africa, featuring two policemen, Kramer and Zondi. The plots are OK, and the writing not bad, what is excellent, though, is how they capture the zeitgeist.
The relationship between the white Afrikaans Kramer, and the black Zulu Zondi is brilliantly explored. The town, too, appears almost as a character.
Tercer y por ahora último libro que leo del teniente Kramer y el sargento Zondi.
Reconozco que me parece muy interesante la mezcla de la novela negra con la realidad de una aberración como el apartheid, pero en este caso tanto la trama como el final están resueltos de manera bastante atropellada y poco convincente.
Set in Apartheid South Africa, it is the investigation of the murder of an exotic dancer and a series of robberies. I have to admit, I had trouble with the whole system of Apartheid and it distracted from the story.
I enjoy the historical look at South Africa, and thought this had an interesting twist on the murder mystery. James McClure books are hard to find in Cape Town. When I request them from the library, they generally have to buy a new copy.
This was the first time I've experienced this author and I probably won't again. Some British authors get very bogged down in details. I found this to be true of Steven Crossley. So many details and so many characters that the book just dragged on.