“When you chopped logs with the axe and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone’s head open, it smelled like abattoir and quite overpowered the scent of the wild lilacs you’d cut and brought into the house only this morning, which was already another life.”
“What does it matter what people do? At the end of the day we’re all dead.”
If you like your mysteries cosy, this one is perhaps not for you. For an English domestic murder mystery, parts are quite brutal, although it has to be said that stalwarts of the genre such as Ruth Rendell and P.D. James have their moments.
Case Histories, a detective novel from 2004, was Kate Atkinson’s fourth novel, and the first one to feature the character of Jackson Brodie as a private investigator. It was quite a departure from Kate Atkinson’s earlier stand-alone novels. Her very first novel, “Behind the Scenes at the Museum” had won the 1995 Whitbread (now Costa) Book of the Year and gone on to be a bestseller. Two more Costa awards were to follow in subsequent years. In 2011 she was appointed a Member of the Order of the British Empire (MBE), for her services to literature.
Like Susan Hill with her Simon Serrailler books, Kate Atkinson entered the crime genre after establishing herself as one of England’s most promising literary writers of the present day. And because of her writing skill, she also has pushed the genre in surprising directions. Susan Hill seemed to turn the formulaic crime novel on its head with her first detective novel, and in Case Histories Kate Atkinson uses her writing abilities to inject macabre twists into ordinary domestic settings, and create an extraordinarily intricate and complex plot.
Jackson Brodie is an offbeat private detective, who lives in Cambridge. He is a little bitter and cynical, and has a fair amount of emotional baggage of his own—never mind that of his eccentric clients. He has recently had an acrimonious divorce and his 8 year old daughter is growing up more quickly than he likes. What’s more his ex-wife and her new partner plan to take his young daughter away to live in New Zealand. Added to the personal shambles he feels he has made of his life, Jackson Brodie finds himself increasingly involved with the complicated lives of his clients. When various seemingly random attempts are made on his life, this jaded detective suddenly becomes aware that somebody wants him dead. His stalker becomes increasingly malevolent and dangerous. By digging into the past for his clients, Jackson Brodie seems to have unwittingly threatened his own future existence.
An air hostess suspected of adultery seems an uninteresting case, as does the sister of a convicted killer attempting to locate a niece, but the ramifications of both prove more complex that they appear. There is also a quirky pair of elderly spinsters, one of whom seems attracted to him, a sad woman who takes in stray cats and wonders if someone is taking them, a lonely obese man, obsessed by grief for his murdered daughter, and a woman who is the sister of an axe-murderer, who herself seems to harbour dark secrets.
None of Jackson Brodie’s cases are current. All of his clients bring him “cold” cases, which they are desperate to solve. Jackson Brodie is an imperfect human being, flawed as we all are in some respect, but he is also an ex-police inspector and an ex-soldier. He has a strong sense of justice, and a desire to right the world’s wrongs. Whether his sense of self-preservation is up to doing this kind of job is debatable. With mixed feelings, he reluctantly accepts three cases, which weave their way through this novel—and finds plenty of family skeletons in the process. Perhaps there are skeletons hidden in every family’s closet, and perhaps that is why a novel in this genre will appeal to so many. There is a large list of characters, who are drawn well enough to empathise with.
A three-year-old girl had disappeared from the family garden, one hot morning long in the past. A solicitor had witnessed the violent and inexplicable stabbing of his beloved 18 year old daughter in his office, by an apparent stranger. And a struggling mother eventually lost her temper with her husband, and killed him with an axe. All these family tragedies are on record, and now Jackson Brodie has been employed independently, by relatives or friends of these three unconnected cases, who wish him to look again, to see if they can even now be solved. Jackson Brodie wonders:
“Amelia and Julia Land found something … Theo Wyre lost something. How easy life would be if it could be one and the same thing.”
But life is never that neat.
We read about the circumstances of the first murder, of the little girl, Olivia Land, who had three older sisters: Sylvia, Amelia and Julia. We meet two of her surviving sisters, who have unearthed a favourite long-lost toy mouse, which they think may be a shocking clue to her disappearance. The marriage of their parents, Rosemary and Victor, had not been a happy one:
“If it hadn’t been for this chance hospital encounter, accidental in all senses, Victor might never have courted a girl. He already felt well on his way to middle age, and his social life was still limited to the chess club. Victor didn’t really feel the need for another person in his life, in fact he found the concept of “sharing” a life bizarre. He had mathematics, which filled up his time almost completely, so he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted with a wife. Women seemed to him to be in possession of all kinds of undesirable properties, chiefly madness, but also a multiplicity of physical drawbacks—blood, sex, children—which were unsettling and other.”
They were complete opposites, and Victor, a virtual recluse whose mother had been committed to a lunatic asylum in 1924, was twice as old as his wife, Rosemary:
“Olivia was her only beautiful child. Julia, with her dark curls and snub nose, was pretty but her character wasn’t, Sylvia—poor Sylvia, what could you say? And Amelia was somehow …bland, but Olivia, Olivia was spun from light. It seemed impossible that she was Victor’s child, although, unfortunately, there was no doubting the fact. Olivia was the only one she loved, although God knows she tried her best with the others. Everything was from duty, nothing from love. Duty killed you in the end.”
Theirs is a very dark tale of human frailties and failings. And not only is it thirty years later, but the implications of the sisters’ own experiences: the part of the story they know, are far from welcome. So they prefer to put their trust in a private detective, rather than take this find to the police. What is eventually brought to light surprises everyone.
We follow too, the beautiful, adored, clever and kind Laura Wyre, up to the point where she had been murdered, ten years ago. Along with her father and Jackson Brodie, we try to reconstruct what might have happened, and why. The day she was attacked, and her throat slashed, had been Laura’s first day in her new job, and she seemed very happy. Theo had been (selfishly, he knew) ecstatic that Laura had decided to be an associate in his firm of solicitors, rather than go to university, as he dreaded life without her. He was a widower, and for all her life he had protected Laura. But did Theo really know what his daughter was like? Did anyone? Why did nobody seem to know anything about the stranger who stabbed her so violently, except that he wore a yellow golfing jersey? Is Theo Wyre presenting a true picture of the events—and of himself? What lies hidden here?
The third case is about Michelle. She was a young mother; intelligent and gifted academically, but a perfectionist in every way. However, she had discovered that it was impossible to do a perfect job of looking after a very needy baby and a demanding husband. She was:
“continually amazed at just how many skills and crafts could go into making “a lovely home”—the patchwork quilts you could sew, the curtains you could ruffle, the cucumbers you could pickle, the rhubarb you could make into jam, the icing-sugar decorations you could create for your Christmas cake—which you were supposed to make in September at the latest (for heaven’s sake)—and at the same time remember to plant your indoor bulbs so they would also be ready for “the festive season,” and it just went on and on, every month a list of tasks that would have defeated Hercules and that was without the everyday preparation of meals …
“She’d had a glimpse of a possible future—the pretty cottage, the garden full of flowers and vegetables, bread in the oven, a bowl of strawberries on the table, the happy baby hitched on her hip while she threw corn to the chickens. It would be like a Hardy novel before it all goes wrong.”
But all go wrong, it did. Michelle could not cope with accepting a “best effort”: she needed something where she could achieve her perceived level of perfection and control. She knew that somehow, she needed to escape from the trap of her daily life—but was her fit of rage and despair, leading to a dead body and herself bloodily clutching the axe, the escape she had intended?
“Time was a thief, he stole your life away from you and the only way you could get it back was to outwit him and snatch it right back.”
The various timelines flip between 1970 and 1994, then back to 1979, and leap forward to the present day, and back. Details of these three cases are woven together, and interspersed with aspects from Jackson Brodie’s own life: a juggling act in itself. Jackson Brodie delves deeper into the family issues, and meets many who were connected with each case. Kate Atkinson’s compassionate but razor sharp eye is on the detail. These tragedies are small-scale and human, and we feel thrust into a kind of claustrophobia, witnessing the personal agonies and joys of those involved.
She describes the minutiae of each unconventional family’s life clearly. Although all the cases are set at different times in the past, and we switch freely between them, we get a heightened sense of reality; of being there in the moment. We also come to a realisation that all these families with their eccentricities, although very different from each other, are also dysfunctional. As, of course, is Jackson Brodie’s own.
But why unearth such raw memories of terror, cruelty, loss and abandonment? Why relive such grief and regret? Decades have intervened, and the tragic headlines are long forgotten by most. What is their motivation for constantly revisiting and exploring these crimes, each so far in the past? The answer is that any family members affected by such traumas crave closure; some kind of resolution before they can move on. Despite their immense sadness and a sense of loss, their needs are the same as Jackson Brodie’s own. They need to lay certain ghosts to rest, to achieve some reconciliation with past events—and have a chance at happiness.
We learn much of each family’s history, and see the individuals connected both as they were many years ago, and in some cases how they are now too. Kate Atkinson peels back the cosiness of family life which disguises the imperfections: the favouritism, selfishness and jealousy which threaten to explode into violence. She reveals that the power of emotions may alter the course of family histories. The tragedy and horror is ever present, and we feel an objectivity through the omniscient narrator. Kate Atkinson has just as much emotional candour when dealing with Jackson Brodie, as with her other characters.
The novel demands close attention however, as separate chapters crisscross family histories and timelines, so that we can examine the three crimes both in the past, and now, with the knowledge we gradually gain. Jackson Brodie gradually establishes subtle connections and reveals painful truths which will eventually help to heal these old wounds. There is love and obsession but also grief and recovery, guilt and redemption: more than you might expect in a simple detective novel.
If you enjoy novels which include a lot of suspense, long-buried secrets, and detailed psychological character studies, sprinkled with quite a few literary references and with a complex plot at its heart: if you enjoy a puzzle to solve, and piecing together the missing links of long-unsolved cases, you may enjoy this one. As one critic acidly put it:
“No character in an Atkinson novel can hear the word “convent” without thinking ‘Get thee to a nunnery.’”
Another called it: “a breathtaking story of families divided, love lost and found, and the mysteries of fate.”
And Stephen King said it was: “Not just the best novel I read this year (2004), but the best mystery of the decade. There are actually four mysteries, nesting like Russian dolls, and when they begin to fit together, I defy any reader not to feel a combination of delight and amazement.”
Kate Atkinson once said: “Writing is the act of rescuing the past.” Case Histories is certainly preoccupied with families, time and fate. It is however, very much a novel which appeals to modern tastes, in that it is gritty and realistic, describing the dark side of humanity. However it has a strong moral core; not necessarily a happy ending, but this ethical dimension does triumph over the depressing, disquieting material. Nevertheless, the novel did not really appeal to me, although it is very well written, and most of my friends here have given it a much higher rating than my default of three stars.
Kate Atkinson has published four more novels so far featuring Jackson Brodie: “One Good Turn” (2006), “When Will There Be Good News?” (2008), “Started Early, Took My Dog” (2010) and “Big Sky” (2019). The first four Jackson Brodie novels have also apparently been adapted for BBC television, starring Jason Isaacs; the entire series called after this first one, Case Histories.
“Because that was how it happened: one moment you were there, laughing, talking, breathing, and the next you were gone. Forever. And there wasn’t even a shape left in the world where you’d been, neither the trace of a smile nor the whisper of a word. Just nothing.”
“The only time you were safe was when you were dead.”