The Naming of the Birds
Paraic O’Donnell’s poignantly titled novel is the second thriller in the Cutter and Bliss murder series: a tale of retribution, and a clear indictment of the institutional abuse of minors, for which history can produce many shameful examples. A string of inventive and gruesome, in one case extremely graphic, murders of notable personages take place in London in 1894. They harken back to events of twenty years earlier, but there’s little to go on other than a few words written in blood. Cutter must examine his own actions and conscience to stay abreast of the killer, as he is repeatedly thwarted from on high.
As in his previous book, The House on Vesper Sands, O’Donnell allows his readers only as much information as he wants them to have at any one time, releasing it in deliberately measured doses. Hence, the first section is untethered, a story with no beginning and no end, but so harrowing we’re compelled to read on. When we finally meet Detective Cutter and Sergeant Bliss, O’Donnell again takes readers through long scenes which seem disconnected from the preamble, and it is a while before the duo arrive at the first murder scene.
Bliss and Cutter are two of the most intriguing investigators this reviewer has encountered. Bliss, with his reflexive sensitivity to the malodorous vapours of Victorian England, is often confounded by his taciturn superior, while Cutter’s remarks are as dry as a desert sandstorm. The grim narrative is lightened by the occasional chuckle over the wry wit, but with such an unpalatable subject, reader amusement sometimes feels out of place. As it masterfully echoes present-day coverups, misinformation and record redaction by institutional officialdom, O’Donnell reveals all in a superlative piece of writing highly deserving of the accolades the series has received.
