Without a shadow of a doubt, Doug Johnstone is one of the finest writers that Scotland has produced, be it within the crime fiction genre, or equally as illustrated by his recent foray into speculative fiction. His fiction is always challenging, always thought provoking, and always written with a nuance and sensitivity that I have seldom seen so consistently from any other writer. This series of books, of which Living Is A Problem is the sixth instalment, is merely further proof of my bold claim, and once again the glorious Skelf family find themselves wrestling with the inherent sadness, difficulties and joy of life, love, grief and death.
Strap yourselves in, we have a lot to get through...
I always experience a frisson of excitement at the release of a new book in this series, so, of course, I could not wait to immerse myself back into the world of The Skelfs: Natural Undertakers and Private Investigators as they have newly re-named their day-to-day business. Again, Johnstone restructures the narrative to put a slightly bigger focus on one of these redoubtable women, and Dorothy- the matriarchal head of the clan- comes into a sharper focus in this book, with her daughter Jenny, and her granddaughter Hannah on a more moderately even keel in this instalment. I can only reiterate the skill and sensitivity with which Johnstone writes these characters, and to quote the great Sigourney Weaver:
“I’m always asked why I play strong women and I always think that’s such a weird question because I just play women and women are strong and women don’t give up. You know why? We can’t. We have to do it”
and this is exactly the strength that he brings to this triumvirate of women, forging through life, taking on all comers and keeping as true to their beliefs, personal moral compass' and defending the underdog, no matter what danger this leads them into. Dorothy is starting to ruminate more on her own longevity, revisiting her life and choices with more regularity, but reassuringly regretting little. She is still solely focussed on bringing people together and connecting them with music, embracing their differences so that these differences become their communal strength. Her seemingly strong relationship with ex-detective Thomas Olsson is under an inordinate amount of strain, and the events of the previous book hover menacingly over the occurrences in this one, with some heart-rending outcomes. She also becomes increasingly embroiled in the disappearance of a Ukrainian woman, which leads to some disturbing revelations, and even more worryingly has a vengeful, murderous police officer on her tail.
Jenny, at last, is experiencing some kind of equanimity in her life, with her beautifully tentative, but blossoming relationship with Archie, an employee of the Skelfs. I've enjoyed the gradual building up of this romantic interlude, and empathise with Jenny's questioning of, and ruminating on, her actually being deserving of this shred of happiness, and how quickly she believes that she'll mess it up. Having experienced a series of coercive and damaging entanglements with men, Jenny is desperate to break the cycle, but can she? Oh, and she also finds herself on the receiving end of the same vengeful, murderous police officer...
Actually said vengeful, murderous police offer is nothing if not consistent, as he's also set his sights on Jenny's daughter Hannah, who pleasingly is confortably settled with her wife Indy, but still eager to satisfy her innate curiosity about this world and beyond. She finds another outlet for her intellect exploring panpsychism ( a whole different way of connecting with the world and everything within it, which is absolutely intriguing but sometimes problematical. Yes I've been reading more about it) She is also helping Brodie (one of Dorothy's strays and now an employee) with some personal issues, which led me to thinking about the male characters from a different perspective.
I think it's interesting that all three main male characters, Thomas, Archie and Brodie, are only really observed by us through the prism of Dorothy, Jenny and Hannah, and their interactions with them, and don't really inhabit much of a space where we see them as kind of independent constructs with their own interior monologues. Thomas is obviously going through the mill, but we only see this in his interaction with Dorothy, Archie is seen mostly through the slightly misty love goggles of Jenny, but he is a total darling, and Hannah is a conduit for Brodie's problems and insecurities. I'm fascinated by this structure and how it works in terms of the characterisation and narrative throughout not only this book, but in retrospect the whole series to date.
During the series, there has been a consistent keeping up with the very latest innovations in the funeral business and new ways of marking the passage of life to death and beyond. I find this absolutely fascinating, and the powerful impetus on the part of the Skelfs, spearheaded by Dorothy in particular, to leave a green legacy with little environmental impact in their wake. From repurposing land to plant trees providing a natural burial site, stopping the use of chemicals, water cremation/resomation, or the revelatory mushroom suit burial, the subject of death becomes far less portentous, as it can be so readily incorporated into a positive plan for the future, and giving back to a planet so mindlessly pillaged in the past and present. The Skelfs know that none of them will probably see the fruits of their environmental endeavours, but their selfless willingness to experiment and innovate speaks volumes about their integrity as a family and as a business.
And then there's Edinburgh. Beautiful, multi-faceted and complicated Edinburgh, that Johnstone makes into a character all of its own. He has much to say about the gentrification of more areas of the city, how this impacts on the populace, and the provision of housing and services for those with less. He also takes us on an exploration of its secret nooks and crannies, and how they have fed into the history of this wonderful city, and revealing places that may go largely unnoticed. The city is portrayed as a living, breathing organism at the heart of the book, and only adds further to the enjoyment of reading.
Lastly, and congratulations for making it to the end of my diatribe, I can't stress enough what an utterly brilliant and satisfying read Living Is A Problem is.
Actually scratch that, and just go ahead and indulge yourself in the whole Skelf series.
You won't regret it for a single second. Just perfection.