Whisky from Small Glasses

This is a solid enough police procedural with its selling point being that it is set in the Scottish Western Isles. It has excellent characterisation, a fast pace and some very good descriptive writing. I enjoyed it even if it was bloody obvious who the murderer was two thirds of the way through.

This sets me a problem. I don't do spoilers and this is a detective novel but I have a complaint about this book that is really a much broader complaint about a disturbing cultural trend. I am going to have to dance around this and try and mislead you as to the killer while telling a truth.

That truth starts with procedural crime being read mostly by women. Women are understandably and naturally predisposed to fear violence from rogue, show more unbalanced or sociopathic men. Ergo, crime novels and TV series are increasingly about violence perpetrated on women.

Is this really because criminal activity is centred on sexual violence of an extreme nature on women or is it because the concept sells? I think it is the latter. All human beings, men or women assuage their fears and express their aspirations and dreams through the imagination.

This is as true of the wonderful Marvel and DC fantasy films for the adolescent in us and for the masculine action thriller as for the sexual or existential depredations of the crime or horror genre. Let's work through our fears and desires. Nothing wrong with that so long as we know it is fantasy.

Unfortunately, the tropes are having a deleterious cultural effect in the case of the criminal procedural whether produced by the BBC, Scandinavian production companies on a roll or cynical publishers. They calm old private fears but create new social fears that are now neurotic.

Feminists are beginning to complain from their perspective about the repeated images of women being raped, brutalised, trafficked and killed but they are missing the point. They seem to think that men get some deviant pleasure from this but it is not men who watch or read this stuff at all.

It is women who are being catered for. The initial fantasy is that 'men are potentially like this' but this becomes the fantasy that 'men are actually like this'. What starts off as the working out of a natural if often irrational fear becomes opportunistically marketed as something more.

It is men who suffer from the constant reinforcement that they are a threat or socially problematic when there is no evidence of anything of the kind (at least to the intense degree implied by the memes involved) - and yet is women who are the true social victims here.

It is women who are constantly placed into a psychological position where they are surrounded by threats. Most see through it but some do not and so we see in our culture a rising neurosis of fear - similar to the hysterical paranoia over terrorism.

The chances of being killed in a terrorist attack are very limited and yet our entire culture has been skewed, especially in terms of expenditures, by the small threat that there is. Women too live in a culture of fear constructed as a negative aura in social discourse.

The truth is that there are a few seriously deranged and disturbed males out there and women are well advised to be pragmatic and realistic about placing themselves in risky situations. Society needs to recognise this and go the extra mile in small things like street lights and large things too.

But the level of fear and anxiety engendered in commercially opportunistic literature and film by the market is damaging women, not because of the much mooted 'objectification' (the radical feminist argument) but because it is a lie. The exaggerated crimes that fuel these genres are rare.

This is not to diminish the lack of respect and molestation in society that needs dealing with - preferably in draconian ways when proven - but such every day stories do not 'make good copy'. Things seem to need to be hyped up in order not only to entertain but create catharsis.

A few great works of art would normally help in doing this, waking us up (especially men in this case) to the wrongness of treating women as mere objects of use. But this is not what is happening in our culture. What is happening is the normalisation of extreme terror for entertainment.

It is rare to find myself on the same side as the radfems but we converge on this. I think their analysis is mistaken but they are noting the same phenomenon that disturbs me - the exaggeration of sexual violence for market reasons. In fact, it demeans men as much as women.

The tragedy of this book is that a rather good writer has allowed himself to be trapped into this mode with its plot cliches, p0ssibly because he or his publisher thought it was 'marketable' to be so. It certainly meant that the killer was far too predictable (a caricature) far too soon.

And, yes, I would read the next and other books in the series if only because the teasers in the book clearly directed the reader to more 'realistic' tales of organised crime. I do not condemn the writer - he is a victim of our market culture as much as the rest of us. show less

This is the first volume in the DCI Jim Daley series. It really grabbed me, and I'm going to read the other volumes in the series too.
Rugged cliffs jut out into the surf, and a disfigured body lies twisted in the sand between them. This is the scene that greets DCI Jim Daley, who has been transferred from the rough streets of Glasgow to the otherwise tranquil beaches of the Kintyre Peninsula. He and his partner DC Scott are called to the fishing village of Kinloch because the local police are overwhelmed by the woman's body that washed up there. As they investigate within the close-knit village community, the two realise that someone is willing to kill to ensure that certain questions remain unasked.
The local police station is show more overwhelmed, so Daley, who is of equal rank to MacLeod, takes command, much to the latter's displeasure, and, on the instructions of his boss Donald, calls in additional units.
The investigation begins, the murder victim must be identified, and in the course of further questioning, which proves extremely difficult as the residents of the remote fishing village of Kinloch are very reticent towards strangers, two more murders occur: these present Daley and Scott with further puzzles, but seem to be connected to the first body.
Adding to all the investigative difficulties is the fact that Lizzy, Jim Daley's wife, wants to fly to Kinloch with his hated but very rich and handsome brother-in-law to escape the dreariness of being the bored wife of an investigating police officer. Jim and Lizzy's marriage is not going well; can their relationship be saved in Kinloch of all places and given a new chance?
The two grow closer again, while the sky above the fishing village darkens more and more due to various criminal activities such as drug trafficking, prostitution and money laundering. show less

This is a police procedural set in a remote Scottish community where everyone knows everyone else's business. I had the feeling the plot and who actually dunnit was secondary to establishing the central character DCI Jim Daley ("and yes I do go to the gym daily") and his overhanging gut, as well as the town itself which is as much a character in the book as he is. Daley is able to tick the "chaotic home life" box, important for literary detectives who want to become a series, given that his wife Liz will shag anything in trousers, or at least that's what he fears.

In terms of the police procedure, it's dense and everything is considered in minute detail. I quite liked that about it, and given that the author is an ex-copper himself, it's show more fairly reliable. It's pretty gruesome in places, sad in others, and ultimately quite tense, though the reader strongly suspects all will be well in the end. I'd happily read the others in the series. show less

WHISKEY FROM SMALL GLASSES is the first in the DI Jim Daley (yes he does go to the gym daily) and DS Brian Scott series, which I've started listening to, as opposed to reading, and very fine listening it is. Narrated by David Monteath, the series is now up to book 6.

Starting out with a good balance between introduction and set up of new characters, and an interesting investigation to be getting on with, WHISKEY FROM SMALL GLASSES comes with a unique setting and some dark humour into the bargain. There's also more than enough intrigue, marital issues, and police politics to keep a reader amused.

Set in a seemingly fictional version of Kinloch, one hundred and fifty "long way round" miles from Glasgow, the area has recently come under the show more overall control of the Strathclyde Police. Superintendent John Donald, once footsore copper and compatriot of Daley's, now his boss, is determined to get these remote outposts to step into line, so a murder case seems like the perfect opportunity to send Daley and Scott off to the countryside, get a quick turnaround on the case, and show these yokels a thing or two about effective policing. Not exactly the best timing for Daley's personal life as his marriage to the serially unfaithful Liz is tanking rapidly, his waistline is expanding and his reserves of patience sorely tried. When Liz lobs into Kinloch with her suspect brother-in-law in tow, it's the last thing Daley wants or needs, although the arrival of his investigating buddy, friend and sounding board Brian Scott, him of the highly colourful turn of phrase, and pointed turn of snark, has given Daley the friend and support he needs.

Listening to this novel washing past was a very enjoyable experience. There is a hefty concentration on Daley's problems with his marriage, enough that I'd have normally expected to be rapidly over it, but it does kind of work here. The concentration on the case, the friendship between Daley and Scott, the idiotic behaviour of the local police chief, all sort of slot together, making everyone feel real, and conflicted, and trying hard. With the Daley's being away from home, in a place where they are unknown there is always the hope that they might eventually decide whether it's a yes or no on the marriage. With Daley and Scott being in town, even though the body count does grow, there's always a feeling that there might not be Donald's longed for quick turnaround, but a resolution to the murders will be found. All the while there is the real feeling that Kinloch and it's people are working their way into Daley's admiration and life.

There is much more to these murders than originally thought, and things quickly go from a murder investigation to sorting out an international drug-trafficking ring, and at that point the investigative side of the novel does get a bit ropey, although where it's heading becomes obvious at the end. Write this one off to a major amount of set up for the rest of the series and you should be able to forgive things getting a bit messy, to say nothing of some very heavy darning to pull some threads into place.

Having now listened to the first couple of books in the series, I think I'll stick with them in audio format as the dialogue, the place names, even the thought patterns of the characters are quintessentially Scottish and part of the enjoyment was hearing it in just the right accent.

https://www.austcrimefiction.org/review/whiskey-small-glasses-denzil-meyrick show less

This was an interesting plot, that jogged along nicely. I listened and read it - but I found my ear really isn't tuned to the different Scottish accents. The incidents were a bit brutal for me. I probably won't go any further with the series.

Glasgow-based DCI Daley is called in to investigate the suspicious death of a woman in the fictional west coast town of Kinloch and discovers a town where everyone appears to know everyone else's business, including every move the police make. It appears the town is a hotbed of drug abuse and prostitution which runs deep even within the apparently law-abiding parts of the community. Daley is under pressure to solve the case when his wife decides to come and stay, adding to the pressure. Clever plotting, authentic and well-drawn characters and often humerous dialogue is an effective counter-point to the often violent activity in Kinloch. Recommended and I'll look forward to further books in the series.

DI Jim Daley is sent to the small Kinloch on the Kintyre peninsula to investigate the murder of a young woman. Her bloated body has been found on a beach, raped and tortured. Gossip is rampant in the town as he finds out quickly. Daley also discovers that another young woman is missing, so he sends for assistance from his faithful sidekick, Brian Scott. Assisting them in the investigation is a young Kinloch detective Archie Fraser. They soon find more is involved here than murder; Kinloch is a rift with drugs and prostitution.
The Kintyre peninsula is a beautiful area, and despite the grisly murders, Mr. Meyrick does some of his best writing in descriptions of the country and people who live there. The murder investigation veers into show more some strange directions, but the pacing of the story is good. Daley's personal issues with his wife Liz also intrude on the investigation and, in my opinion, give away too much of the ending. Still, I enjoyed this book and intend to read the next book in the series. show less