Book Review: “Cockroaches” by Jo Nesbø
№2 in the Harry Hole Series
I’m continuing with reading and reviewing the entire Harry Hole series of serial killer novels, and Cockroaches — the second entry in the series — may either be the very best or very worst of the three books I’ve read so far: The Bat and Killing Moon. Again, the novels are relatively self-contained so you can read them out of order. However, you’d be missing references to The Bat in this one if that were the case. What can I say about Cockroaches? Well, where it has a little bit of a problem is that it is somewhat of a retread of The Bat. Once again, author Nesbø puts his alcoholic hero in a country foreign to his native Norway: this time out, Thailand. There are several similarities between the two books as well: for one, a boxing match plays a part in the plot. And a female character that Harry gets attached to gets murdered. Those are the two that I can remember off the top of my head, and I’m sure savvy readers will spot other similarities. In any case, even though this is a case of a sequel just trying to go bigger and better than what immediately preceded it, it’s not a bad read if one can look past the Raymond Chandler allusions and recognize that the method of how the crimes of this book were committed is a tad far fetched. (But wasn’t that the case of Killing Moon, too?)
This time around, Harry Hole is sent to Bangkok to investigate the “possible” (in the words of the Thai police) murder of the Norwegian ambassador to the country. Harry’s also not supposed to kick up a fuss and cause a scandal — but, this being a Harry Hole novel, that potential lurks around every corner. It turns out that the ambassador might be something of a pedophile as his briefcase contains some very incriminating evidence. The scene of the crime is also a motel that may be doubling as a brothel. From there, there’s a large gallery of characters who may or may not be the murderer. Is it the wife of the ambassador, who wants out of a possibly sham marriage? Is it the maistre of said wife, who wants the husband out of the picture? Is it another man, who is doing his own investigation into pedophiles in Thailand? Or could it be a wealthy businessman from Norway who has a monopoly on a very big construction project?
If anything, I’d say that Cockroaches plays the most out of the Hole novels I’ve read as a police procedural. Whereas The Bat had Hole playing tourist and was ineffectual for about two-thirds of the novel, and Killing Moon was more of a straight-up thriller with a deadline that had to be met, Cockroaches is heavy on the police footwork. And it sort of must be to keep Hole and his companions walking around in circles for most of its nearly 400 pages. If anything, the motive for the crime is of The Big Sleep variety: a crime so convoluted that it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense if you think about it too much. That said, the novel is entertaining, and that’s what a book like this should be. For one thing, the novel gives Harry a nice foil in a baldheaded Thai policewoman named Liz. She’s given a fair amount to do and is likable enough that one sort of hopes that she makes another appearance in a Hole novel down the line. (I’m not sure if she does as I’m trying to keep myself in the dark about upcoming books to not spoil them for myself, but there’s a tantalizing thread of hope at the very end that she might.) All in all, I have to say that Cockroaches is a book that is heavy on the plot at the expense of some character development. And it’s the character development that I’m reading this series for, which is where I’ll circle back and suggest that this might be the worst book so far in the series that I’ve read because that’s what it is lacking.
Still, even with the repetition and recycling of locale to a far side of the world to an extent, Cockroaches does linger a bit. It inverts the alcoholism angle of The Bat by making Harry a drunk at the outset and more sober as the novel progresses. Even though I know from Killing Moon that Hole is never really cured of his affliction, most readers like me will want to see where the alcoholism angle goes from here and how it plays out. That Nesbø can make readers hang onto every word of these books for a series that lasts (currently) 13 of them is a testament to his writing ability. Even though I’m not sure what to think of Cockroaches now doesn’t sway me from my quest to read through the whole series. If this is a lesser book in any way, it is simply a result of mining too much of the same thing. I’m hoping that the next novel, The Redbreast, will take place a little more on home turf just to see if it is any different that these earlier works. (Knowing full well that serial killers are not exactly a dime a dozen in Norway.) All I can say at this point is bring on book three and I’m now three down with 10 more to go!
Jo Nesbø’s Cockroaches was first published in Norwegian in 1998 and then in English in 2013. The English paperback version by Vintage Crime / Black Lizard was published on February 11, 2014.
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