Books Child 44
Books and Publications Average Rating:

Rating: - Thriller as Literature
Yes, it should be compared with Martin Cruz Smith's novels of inspector Arkady Renko in a good way. Child 44, like Gorky Park, is more thriller as literature and blows away the typical bestseller thrillers (the ones you typically see in the airport gift shop) with their clumsy writing and carboard characters. It also occupies its own space apart from the Renko books in its backdrop and the big questions it poses its protagonist. I read this eagerly and well into the morning. Highly recommended.

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Rating: - A Great Debut Novel
It is 1950s Soviet Russia. Stalin rules with a heavy Communist fist. Suspicion is everywhere and fear of the State runs rampant. In a society created to nurture equality, it is the government workers, the very people policing society and keeping Stalin's government in check, that have become the most corrupt.

When children begin showing up brutally murdered, their deaths are heralded as accidents - the blame sometimes easily ascribed to existing malcontents and other degenerates of society, wrongfully influenced by Western ideals, culture, and propaganda. Seen as a stain on the integrity of Russia and its politics, these men, already in disfavor and being monitored are quickly taken under false arrest and accused of murder Convinced that the deaths are not connected, scattered across hundreds of miles with little to no inter-city communications, the pattern of disease goes unnoticed.

But Leo Stepanovich Demidov, trained in the art of espionage, subterfuge, exquisite torture, and schooled in the maxims of Lenin and Stalin - taught to memorized and believe their tenets of a moral, unquestioning society - becomes suspicious after a recent interrogation subject refuses to confess to a crime he did not commit. Called guilty with no intention to prove him innocent, he is imprisoned and executed. Convinced of the man's innocence an aware of the dangers his sudden doubt in the State mechanism poses both for him and his family, Leo's world is suddenly turned upside down. Now, it's up to Leo and his wife Raisa to investigate matters of the cover up after his suspicions become threatening to the very foundation of the country he works for. In an attempt to atone for a lifetime of misguided wrongs, Leo pursues the connection to the crime of the murdered children, even as doing so risks the lives of the ones he loves.

Child 44 is a frightening tale of innocents and survival exploited under Stalin's dictatorship. Smith has a keen historical eye and a developed understanding of the inner workings of Stalinist Russia. At times the text was so saturated with paranoia and back-stabbing, the unfairness of it all became depressingly ridiculous. I wanted to reach into the pages and shake everyone awake to the reality of what they were perpetuating. My frustration though is testament to the power of Smith's writing. At times difficult to differentiate the quick switches in perspective from one paragraph to the next with no other demarcations, the narrative was overall enjoyable and engaging.

The story itself unfolded rather well with surprising twists, turns, and revelations that picked up about halfway through the novel. The characters of Leo and Raisa developed beautifully and with a care of such I haven't seen in a long time. Theirs was a romance believable in the odd context of circumstances which brought them together. I found myself exhilarated at their honesty and by the end of the novel, devotion and determination to hel peach other and pursue the future together.

I really enjoyed this novel and recommend it not just to fans of the thriller or crime fiction genre, but to everyone. After all, this is my first venture into that universe and it was a memorable journey. My thanks to Simon & Schuster UK for the lovely Christmas present!

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Rating: - Thriller?
Read this book as science fiction or fantasy (and poorly edited as that). As far as describing Russian people's relationships and society, the book is sheer nonsense. Every page is riddled with implausible situations. Just several examples:

A vet opens an office close to embassies and treats diplomats' pets. [Neither medical nor veterinary doctors could have private offices. They always worked for the state and thus couldn't decide to open anything or treat whoever they wanted]

The state approved of war-time rapes by Russian soldiers. [Though no doubt the rapes happened, the state prosecuted the offenders who were caught]

A man says [and a militia man believes him] that he carries a knife because his wife insists on buying only cheap hard salami. [The hard salami was the most expensive kind, the most coveted. Salami was harder to find than any other type of sausage]

A collective farm chairman supports aiding and abetting a criminal by his entire kolkhoz membership. At the same time, the criminal is wondering if this kolkhoz has any Communist and regime sympathizers. [To be a kolkhoz chairman, one had to be a Communist party member. ]

But the following example will surely impress English teachers and any person who studied English in school: "Entering the farmhouse, the boy's body was gone." This is by Tom Rob Smith, a Cambridge University graduate no less.

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Rating: - He aspires to someday write like Philip Margolin
This is an example of a fascinating idea treated by a writer with little skill and less vision. The idea of a culture where crime doesn't exist because the state decrees it CAN'T exist is a great starting point, and Leo, the protagonist, is flawed enough to be vaguely interesting. But as a stylist Smith can't even tie Ludlum's shoes (let alone those of a competent writer) and as a serial killer novel it falls firmly in the bottom half of the genre.
I could go on about his Fiction Writing 101 errors for several pages, so let a few examples suffice. First, he blatantly steals an idiosyncrasy of Stephen King, taking a word or phrase out of context and italicizing it in a new paragraph before picking up the thread again. In King's hands this technique is a clever way to reveal the subconscious element of the narrative; when Smith employs it it seems wooden, artificial and self-conscious. Also, Smith's imagination is limited to the point of confusion--at one point he refers to a footpath by a river that "runs both ways". These points may seem picky, but they represent the dominant characteristics of his style--an accumulation of errors and poor writing that constantly distract from the plot.
And then there is the twist, mentioned by several reviewers, an unearned Dickensian moment that made me finally throw the book away in disgust. If you think Philip Margolin (with his one-black-Ferrari-for-every-ten-pages-of-a-book ratio) is the greatest writer of the last 100 years, then this book is for you. Otherwise, run.