Yes, I am running on empty. I have left my tour of the fifty states by the side of the road as I concentrated on affairs of the hearth and, when time permitted, got a head start on the books selected for the upcoming year for my face-to-face book club. Actually, I’ve just been unfocused and really needing a break.
But occasionally I have plowed through another day or two with the homicide cops in Baltimore, put them in pending again, and headed off for an easy murder mystery read set in Michigan.
Henry Kisor’s third book in his series about a small town sheriff’s office is Cache of Corpses. Herein I read about geocaching, a sport previously unbeknownst to me: sort of like a scavenger hunt but without collecting trinkets. Kisor takes the sport to its XTREME level where the searchers come upon headless and handless bodies.
The story follows a predictable murder-mystery recipe: interesting main character, Steve Martinez; complicated personal life; quirky fellow policemen; quaint townspeople suspicious of outsiders; serial killer profiler; tension between local and federal law enforcement. (By George, I think I could write one of these.) But Kisor is an engaging writer, if not shockingly original … I mean in terms of style not subject. Only once, and admittedly in a critical development, does the story not hang together and that is when the investigators come to suspect geocaching in the first place.
And so, what makes this story quintessentially Michigan Upper Peninsula? There is a respect for the unique features of the land and the locals’ devotion to keeping them from becoming mere tourist attractions. There is plenty of reflection on native American and first Scandinavian settlers. There is regional slang … never heard of a Yooper before (think UP, duh).
But after so many states, I have distilled from each a more comprehensive appreciation of America per se. It is through several almost innate qualities that Americans express themselves in whatever home the book's characters come from: their identification and appreciation of local history; their struggle to fit in to their surroundings and not be perceived as an outsider; the importance of being able to array the social structure of the community and understand each person’s supporting role in it. Maybe if I were to read a book about every county in Ireland or every province in Canada, I would discover the same humanity.
Kisor will not enter the ranks of my favorite murder mystery writers, but it was a quick escape to an isolated part of a state far from home.
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