Languid affair as Rendell tires of red herrings
Graeme Blundell From: The Australian August 28, 2010

Left - Author Ruth Rendell. Picture: Nathan Edwards Source: The Australian

Tigerlily's Orchids
By Ruth Rendell
Hutchinson, 280pp, A$32.95

Death has never been absent for long in Ruth Rendell's distinguished career.
She was even sacked from her first job as a reporter on a local British newspaper for writing up the tennis club's annual dinner without mentioning that the chairman dropped dead while making his speech.
Countless deaths have followed in more than 50 books, the best known being, of course, the procedural mysteries featuring Detective Chief Inspector Wexford, the first of which, From Doon with Death, appeared in 1964. Most have been bestsellers, with worldwide sales of more than 20 million; the most accomplished, it must be said, appearing in the 1970s.


Tigerlily's Orchids is 80-year-old Rendell's latest, though it's a rather languid crime affair. Her novels are increasingly nostalgic, written with an almost Victorian leisureliness. Her famous sense of studied decorum makes her a rare figure in contemporary crime fiction and this is the perfect read for lovers of the so-called English cosy.

Instead of Agatha Christie's country pile, we have a block of flats called Lichfield House in a dreary outer London suburb, surrounded by neighbours who always seem to be at their windows observing. But there are the same detailed descriptions of interiors, a ritual gathering of suspects (a party thrown by the central character) and an acerbic appreciation of the truth that human beings have a deadly passion for concealment and revelation.

Sure there are some contemporary references, from television programs such as Strictly Come Dancing (the English version of Dancing with the Stars), to the Tom Hanks movie Saving Private Ryan, to a cassoulet recipe from Nigella Lawson. But you are far likelier to encounter phrases from Shakespeare or from Milton, as some of Rendell's characters are fond of opening Paradise Lost at random for an idle spot of bibliomancy.

To be fair, Rendell does add several deviant twists: a clumsy cleaner obsessed with indecent images of children, a young married woman with a libidinousness verging on the pathological and a rather alarming suburban cannabis-cultivation operation. But the plot is a slight affair, with little of the subtle horror of Rendell's best work. Handsome Stuart Font, who just can't pass a mirror without looking into it, throws a house-warming party in his new flat, inviting all the people in his new building. He is unable to invite his new girlfriend, Claudia, the sexy fashion journalist fond of leaving him lascivious phone messages, because he would also have to welcome her husband, the dreadful Freddie Livorno.

Full review at The Australian.