Portobello [Large Print]

The life and crime of Portobello Road is the subject of this crime story which is more a sentimental story about people in and around that road in London with some petty criminals in it than a real detective story. A murderer by accident first and by legal and judicial conviction second. An arsonist who benefits the victim thanks to this victim's insurance. A fake thief who also benefits his victims thanks to their insurance. But apart from that we are dealing with the psyche and the social life of the rich, very rich a little and quite well-off a lot. The love affair between the art gallery owner and a general practitioner is tender and nice but so quaint. The addiction of that art dealer on some kind of chocolate bar is pathetic. The only in a way attractive character is Joel who has a heart attack, goes through heart surgery, nearly dies and comes back with a doppelganger he will try to liberate by nearly killing himself (suicide and call for help at the last minute). But Joel will be liberated and stay on the other side and only his doppelganger will come back. The family situation and drama that caused that kind of derangement is in many ways horrible but utterly pathetic. A father who cannot mourn his daughter who dies accidentally, and will only come around the problem when his son will be completely gone into full insanity because he accuses his son of the negligence that caused the accidental death of the daughter. What a vengeance: to cause his son to be insane and survive like that as long as possible. Who is speaking of torture and corporeal punishment? Ruth Rendell writes a very simple and yet rich English which makes her novel interesting, though I do not think that new style of TV editing the novel into vignettes that are rarely more than four pages long is slightly too scattered for the reader to really keep the lead of what is happening. It is true the centering of the novel on a whole bunch of different characters who are more or less treated equally, with no real main character, imposes that kind of exploded style like in all the detective series in which you have two or three lines of investigation that are followed in each episode, with one that can jump from one episode to the next. I am afraid we are losing something in that kind of treatment that keeps things more or less superficial, or at least not deep enough to really understand the human dimension of the problems described in the novel. The only one that seems to really get some wider treatment is the addiction (or habit) to a sugar-less chocolate bar. An interesting book but I am afraid Ruth Rendell is aging and her writing too. Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID

Rendell gives us fascinating characters, fully rounded and complex -- I enjoyed the antique dealer and his guilty secret, even though I would most certainly have found him laughable in real life. His foibles were very believable. There's not much mystery here, however, as we already know the culpable parties. The fun is in the descriptions and the book's humor and insight.

The latest suspense novel from my favorite mystery writer is my favorite kind of mystery. It isn't part of her wonderful Wexford series, but a stand-alone story of a broad cross-section of Londoners who become involved in one another's lives, seemingly by accident (think of her titles like THE KEYS TO THE STREET and ADAM AND EVE AND PINCH ME). There's something almost Dickensian about this story, with rich and poor living and working in such close quarters, all in or near London's famous Portobello Road. A lost envelope full of cash and a Good Samaritan's spontaneous act of kindness are the inciting actions in this rich tapestry, leading to love, hatred, obsession, and--of course--murder for the huge, varied cast of characters. Ruth Rendell is more than a mystery writer. In several recent books, she has provided a remarkable social commentary on today's world, and she works her brilliant observations of human nature into her brilliant plots. PORTOBELLO is amazing, start to finish. Highly recommended.

The new paperback book I ordered, Portobello by Ruth Rendell was well packaged and arrived a couple of days earlier than expected. I was surprised to see it had been mailed in England, good service indeed. Exactly as advertised, the_book_depository is great.

I imported Portobello from the UK in an excess of impatience to read the new Rendell, and I am thrilled to report it is horrific, claustrophobic, and yes, droll in turns. Rendell's genius still burns brightly, her sharp edge is unblunted, and we readers may rejoice, while compulsively turning the pages in a chill of ever-increasing dread. In this wicked tale, a well-to-do art gallery owner, Eugene Wren, is hiding a secret addiction from his doctor fiancee, Ella. He finds an envelope containing money and posts an ad, whereupon his fiancee becomes professionally embroiled with the owner of the envelope, Joel, whom we realize is, yes, insane. Meanwhile, a petty thief and burglar, Lance, is on the prowl in Eugene's wealthy neighborhood. Lance is living with his parsimonious Uncle Gib, a reformed thief now member of a fundamentalist church. Lance and Uncle Gib provide much of the comic relief. Goodness knows we need it, as Ella the caring doctor becomes disturbingly involved with Joel, whose madness is growing worse. There are burglaries, murders, drowning of a child, the firebombing of a house, and a pilfered chocolate cake. Tragedy is juxtaposed with absurdity, as in Eugene's terrible addiction to - sugar-free sweets, the euphoniously named Chocorange. The well off characters have the luxury of obsessing over imagined ills, while ignoring the unlocked garden gate, which will, we know, lead to real grief. The lower class characters get by on cunning, ruthlessness, and the dole; while the comfortably cocooned upper classes are chattering and, utterly naive about what it takes to survive, are the natural prey of the lowlifes who haunt the Portobello Road area. It is as if Theodore Dalrymple's social commentary were wedded to Ruth Rendell's story-telling talents. All told, a marvelous read, with a richly satisfying conclusion.