pageclot's Full Review: Iain Pears - Death and Restoration: A Jonathan Arg...
Reading the sixth book of any series before you read books one through five can be a bit disconcerting. Like walking into a movie half finished, or watching Gretzky play his thirteenth season, you can't really get a complete view of what you're watching until you check out the beginning. Death and Restoration is the fifth book of Iain Pears' Jonathan Argyll series. Argyll is an English art dealer, now semi-retired, living in Rome and teaching art appreciation at the local University. Knowledge of Argyll's past would be nice, but Death and Restoration stands alone if, as in my case, this is the first Argyll mystery you've read.
I bought this book mainly because of my joy at reading Instance of the Fingerpost, internationally acclaimed historical fictionalization based in the late 1600's. I suppose I was looking for "more of the same", and picked this book up in the bookstore. Death and Restoration is quite different from Instance of the Fingerpost in tone, style, and period. But similar in that the answer to mysteries lies in the interpretation of dusty, dry old documents. Interpreted, in this case, by Jonathan Argyll.
Argyll lives with Flavia di Stefano, a chief detective with the Art Crimes squad in Rome. As Rome is the home of many art treasures, and art thefts, there is a need for a special unit devoted to tracking known art thieves and recovering stolen paintings. Although on the surface you wouldn't know it, Argyll and di Stefano are apparently very much in love and plan to marry in the fall. At the beginning of the novel, however, we see them falling into the familiar trap of differing goals, with Flavia intensely interested in her career (or the work involved in her career) and Argyll, content to teach his classes and sell the occasional painting, bemoaning the fact that he rarely sees Flavia.
Unfortunately, this is not likely to change, as Flavia has been offered the command of the Art Crimes Unit as a whole due to her boss being kicked upstairs. Meanwhile, Flavia has received an anonymous tip that a small monastery will be robbed in the near future, setting off all sorts of workload for her and her overworked assistant, Giulia.
Clearly, Pears knows how to keep all his juggling balls in the air. The first section of murder mystery novels are almost all set-up. Who gets murdered, who are the suspects, what are the possible motivations, etc etc. Added to this, Pears has subtly included mini-character sketches throughout, of Argyll, Flavia, and Mary Verney (a former art thief, now semi-retired as well). These character sketches feel like condensations of more fully explored examinations of the series' previous novels.
It might be worthwhile to ruminate on the challenges to a series-writer. To avoid repetition, which would bore the faithful readers of the series, a writer can no more than summarize the main recurring characters. The series-writer can't prevent people from buying books in the middle of the series, however, so each book ought to stand alone, unless you're a profit-gouging sadist who doesn't care about coherence. Pears seems to have hit on a good strategy to introduce us to major characters. He includes a character that knows Argyll and Flavia from before, but who hasn't seen them in some time. In the course of "catching up", we're given quite a bit of information. Pretty neat bit of work, that.
The early pace of the novel is leisurely, in sharp contrast to the frenetic pace of life in Rome, with crazed drivers, gridlock, and Flavia running here and there trying to supervise an understaffed department. In due course, the small monastery is indeed burgled, a seemingly inconsequential icon is missing from the Order, and one of the Fathers of the Order is grievously injured. It is Flavia's duty to recover the icon and punish the evildoers.
Until two thirds of the way through Death and Restoration, I thought that it was going to be just another typical detective story, with clever criminals and clever detectives. Good would triumph over evil, and the stage would be set for another book in the series. Pears really gives the reader very little reason to believe otherwise, until Jonathan has an amazing conversation with an intermittently demented senior Father (Father Charles). In this single odd but electrifying conversation, Pears manages to more fully explore Jonathan's character, as well as give several broad clues as to the reason for the icon's disappearance, as well as obscure hints as to who would benefit from its possession.
As a result of this conversation, Jonathan's role in the case of the missing icon becomes much more significant, and his talents at history and sifting through archives become important. Pears, an art historian, has succeeded in his attempt to make art history relevant and vital to a criminal investigation. How he must have rubbed his hands together in glee when writing the sections in which Jonathan translates letters and archives from several different languages into English, and pieces it all together. Much like Anthony Wood in An Instance of the Fingerpost, it is the men who look into the books that are the key to solving mysteries. The conclusion of the novel is so neatly tied together that it's hard to see the seams of Pears' writing.
At the same time that Jonathan solves the "Why" of the theft of the art icon, Flavia (thinking she's found out the answer to the "Who" question) is having her own triumph, having out-thought and out-manoeuvered a criminal rival in a scheme so audacious, and yet so logical it had me smiling. What I liked about the solving of the crime is how well Flavia and Jonathan worked together, piecing together how it all worked, based on what each of them does exceedingly well. Watching this great team at work is especially nice because it becomes obvious that they both trust and admire and respect (and therefore love) each other a great deal. It is rare and delightful to have an author show the effect of love on the daily thoughts and actions of two real people. Think Nick and Nora of The Thin Man series, but on a slightly higher intellectual plane, and without all that drinking.
Well worth your time.
Bonuses
There's a discussion on art restoration that is interesting aside from its tangential importance to the plot of the book. There's also a boffo bit of historical extrapolation regarding the end of the reign of Constantine the eleventh, in 1453.
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