2,494: The Taint of Midas by Anne Zouroudi

Et in Arcadia ego may have reflected Charles Ryder’s joy at escaping from his dull, middle-class background into the aristocratic Elysium of Sebastian Flyte’s Oxford but, in Anne Zouroudi’s second Greek Detective novel, Arcadia is, at best, a faded paradise.

Hermes Diaktoros, the afore-mentioned Greek Detective, is en route to his vineyard when he stumbles across a corpse, which is identifies as his old friend, Gabrilis, by means of an old Post Office cap that bears as it insignia the winged Hermes.  It soon becomes clear that Gabrilis, a beekeeper, has been conned into signing away his land adjoining the ancient temple of Apollo, to an unscrupulous local property developer and restaurant owner.

Despite being the initial prime suspect of the local police sergeant, the incorruptible Gazis, Hermes turns the investigation around and, prodding away at the hypocrisy and greed of the locals, gradually reveals Gabrilis’ murderer as well as bringing happiness to the wronged and serving up just desserts to various wrongdoers.

It is likely that a love of traditional detective fiction might find The Taint of Midas a bit disappointing, or, even, weak.  If I’m being perfectly honest, there is little actual detection going on here.  The vague supernatural tones of The Messenger of Athens reappear even more strongly here.  Diaktoros appears to be almost omniscient and there is little suspense to be found in contemplating whether or not he will identify the culprit.

But that’s, frankly, missing the point.  Although Hermes is named for the winged messenger of Greek mythology (and, inappropriately for his character, the patron god of thieves), there is more than a whiff of Nemesis, the Greek spirit of revenge (especially against the arrogant), about Hermes.  And, I think that’s where the joy of Zouroudi’s novels lies.  They aren’t true detective stories, they are morality tales in which, regardless of the laws of the land, the bad guys get punished and the suffering often get a piece of good fortune.  Hermes’ actions pander not to our brains but to our hearts because no matter what we say (and, as a lawyer, I am especially prone to pontificating about the sanctity of the law), deep down we want to see justice conform to our own notions of morality.  This is exactly what Hermes gives us.

Of course, this leaves open the chance that the resultant book will be sententious and a bit clunky but, fortunately, Ms Zouroudi has a wonderful touch when it comes to depicting the dark underbelly of the Greek summer holiday spot.  The Taint of Midas positively drips with atmosphere and a sense of place. In addition, Hermes is an engaging kind of chap and the story moves along at a gentle pace that makes it a peaceful, relaxing read.  On the downside, Hermes' habitual whitening of his tennis shoes is thoroughly irritating and I did have a nagging thought that, for someone who owns a vineyard in the immediate vicinity of the scene of the crime, he did seem to be surprisingly ignorant of the place and its inhabitants.

Still, these are minor criticisms and, overall, I’m a fan of the Greek Detective novels.  They appeal to me when I am in the mood for something relaxing, comforting and undemanding.  When I read one, I can feel the Mediterranean sun on my face, I can smell the wild herbs of the Greek countryside and the ozone tang of the sea and, as I sit on the sardine-packed Northern line on the way to work, Anne Zouroudi and Hermes Diaktoros take me away to a different world.  And that’s good enough for me.

2,505: The Messenger of Athens by Anne Zouroudi

The battered body of a young, married woman lies dead at the foot of a cliff on the Greek holiday island of Thiminos. The corrupt local Chief of Police has taken a bribe to determine the death an accident and to sweep it under the carpet as quickly as possible. And there, matters might have rested save for the arrival on a ferry from the mainland of Hermes Diaktoros, Anne Zouroudi’s Greek Detective.

 Hermes announces his intention to investigate the death of Irini, making vague comments about the authority under which he is acting. Soon he begins to strip away the veneer of the local populace and to discover a web of petty intrigues, infidelities and deceptions that pervades the island and has led to misery, family breakdown and, ultimately, murder. Using methods that are unconventional to say the least, Hermes imposes his own brand of justice, meting out punishment to those he holds responsible for Irini’s death, as well as the actual killer.

The Messenger of Athens is one of the most unusual crime novels I have read in recent years. Readers looking for a conventional
whodunit that follows the rules of detective fiction and challenges them to solve the puzzle may be disappointed. This is emphatically not one of those types of detective story. Instead, it inhabits a space somewhere in between crime writing and literary fiction. By interweaving two narrative threads, separated in time and by using multiple points of view, Zouroudi focuses as much, if not more, on the corrosive and misogynistic social beliefs of the islanders and the tough lives that they lead once the summer sun fades and the tourists go home, as she does on the process by which Hermes uncovers the murderer.

Hermes himself does not fit the profile of your typical fictional detective. Admittedly he has the requisite quirky habits (in Hermes’ case, this entails wearing white tennis shoes with an expensive suit, continually whiting out marks on said shoes and smoking old-fashioned cigarettes) but these didn’t really work for me. His character and motivation are kept deliberately vague and his near omniscience and unclear status makes him almost like a deus ex machina, which impression is only heightened by the unorthodox retribution he metes out to those he deems guilty. Unlike detectives like Poirot (of whom there are some faint echoes in Hermes), he sets himself out as judge, jury and executioner as well as investigator. Nevertheless, he is a sympathetic character who shows real kindness to those who have suffered and the lack of clarity around his character only makes me more curious and interested in him.

If I’m being perfectly honest, most of the other characters (with the honourable exceptions of Nikos, Sofia and Lukas) are as grubby a bunch of spiteful, bigoted and small-minded individuals as you could hope to find and, despite its extra-legal nature, Hermes’ justice seemed appropriate and highlighted the difference between legal and natural justice.

Zouroudi’s real strength, though, is in the sense of place and the atmosphere she creates. I was reminded of Little Infamies by Panos Karnezis, a wonderful collection of short stories about life in a Greek village, in the portrait Zouroudi draws of a fundamentally isolated and inward looking community and the perasive gossip and everyday deceit that permeates the island. Her pacing is leisurely, enabling her carefully to tease out the individual stories that make up the plot and slowly pulling us to its conclusion and I can’t help but think that there is some similarity between Zouroudi and Georges Simenon when it comes to creating atmosphere.

I suspect that if you come to The Messenger of Athens expecting a classic detective story, you may end up being disappointed but, if you look at it as a novel that happens to have a detective and a crime at its centre, it is excellent and well worth your time. I have already downloaded the sequel, The Taint of Midas, to my Kindle and I am looking forward to getting better acquainted with Hermes Diaktoros.