Exit Music

This happens every time I read a John Rebus mystery by Ian Rankin: I am vaguely bored by it, but then when it's over, I keep thinking about it. I think this goes back to my low tolerance for mysteries. I think the writing is great here, but I can kind of see parts of it coming a mile away. The other parts in this particular one felt like just so many red herrings. I guess I feel too aware of the craft of writing a mystery. Still, Exit Music is notable because it is John Rebus' last week as a Detective Inspector in Edinburgh. The "old" guy is leaving and wants to tidy up loose ends. Rankin does a decent job of slowly unveiling the passing of the guard to Rebus' younger partner without making the veteran completely irrelevant to the investigation. At one point, Rebus finds himself lighting a cigarette just to get noticed by the fire marshalls at the crime scene (who are righteously annoyed by this act), but at other times, he is digging deep into the complexities of an uncomplicated case. As swan songs go, it's gentle enough.

I have a secondary interest in Rankin's novels because of their location. I spent a short time in Edinburgh and I like hearing the street names and trying to picture the settings. I like his description of one of the University towers: [It] had been voted the building most people in Edinburgh wanted to see condemned. The tower, perhaps sensing the hostility, had begun to self-destruct, great chunks of cladding falling from it at regular intervals.

I feel like the mystery itself is secondary to the comfort of reading an easy, literate book. I think they all sort of blend together, but isn't that the purpose? At one point, we meet again a character that I swore had been killed in another book, but I couldn't be bothered to track it down. I wouldn't even know where to look. It didn't make any difference to my enjoyment. I just know I'll miss Rebus' further adventures and I kind of want to know what his day will be like when he wakes up, no longer part of Gayfield Square station.