Detecting in Three Dimensions

Further thoughts on the demise last week of 60-year-old crime novelist Michael Dibdin, this time from lawyer and London Times critic Marcel Berlins:

To put it simply, Michael Dibdin ... created one of the most memorable detectives in crime fiction. Commissario Aurelio Zen wasn’t memorable because of some farfetched mannerism, hobby or habit, the kind of appendages most crime writers tag on to their characters to make them seem interesting. Zen’s appeal lay in his complexity. He had many faults and shortcomings. In his private life he could be impatient, gloomy, stubborn, cynical, rude and emotionally immature--he lived with his mother in the early books, and led a tangled romantic life throughout. In his police work, he was all those things plus insubordinate and devious. Several commentators have pointed out that one would not enjoy being in his company for long.

But he was also a gifted, courageous cop who, despite his many defects, had a vulnerability, an independence of spirit and a quirkiness that readers and book reviewers found greatly attractive. Zen was a rare three-dimensional figure in a genre where two dimensions are usually all that can be hoped for.

Without suggesting that the plots of Dibdin novels were largely irrelevant, it can’t be denied that his public was enchanted, first by Zen’s personality and secondly by the vivid and beguiling atmosphere of Italy that Dibdin conveyed with elegance and style. The story came third.

Berlins’ full remembrance of the author’s work is available here.