Child 44

So. How does a thriller about a serial child-murderer, set in Stalinist Russia, resemble a little girl with a curl right in the middle of her forehead? Well, I just finished Tom Rob Smith’s Child 44, and when it is good, it is very very good, and when it is bad it is horrid.

Let’s start with the good parts, of which there were quite a few. Teresa wrote a review of this novel back when it was making the rounds (and it was nominated for a Booker Prize, good Lord) and so I won’t go into great detail, but the premise is that Leo Demidov, an apparatchik of the MGB, the state police, discovers evidence of a crime that shouldn’t exist. Under Stalin’s regime, the only crime is crime against the state: other crimes, such as homicide, perversion, etc. are the acts of “undesirables,” corrupted by the West or by mental illness. When the state says crime exists, it exists. When it says it does not exist, the crime disappears. But these child-murders — ritualistic killings, the mouth stuffed with bark — won’t go away.

Smith creates a fascinating atmosphere. What should an officer do, if he understands a terrible crime simultaneously as an affront to the state in which he passionately believes, and as an affront to humanity? There is also the added danger to him and his family: if he goes about this the wrong way, everyone he loves could be persecuted, sent to the gulags, killed. Demidov has a conscience, but it’s a conscience that has been shaped, blunted, forced into channels by constant propaganda and fear. He’s the avatar of an entire nation that’s lived this way for years. Denounce others and you’ll be rewarded, whether or not you’re speaking the truth. Keep information quiet and you’ll be punished. Smith turns his lens on the toll this takes on Demidov’s marriage — his wife, Raisa, was a wholly believable character, bitter and strong — and on his health. Watching the painful evolution of Demidov’s self-awareness was the best part of the book.

I have to say, however, that when the novel became a thriller, it lost me. The “twist” toward the end didn’t earn its keep (it was insufficiently structured, totally implausible — Russia is a very large country — and I saw it coming half a book away.) The flight and pursuit was over the top: I don’t have to have my main characters sliding under trains equipped with hooks in order to believe they are in serious trouble, and without giving too many details, there was a serious credibility issue in this part of the story. Demidov’s assistant, Vasili, was a MacGuffin of rage and hostility that was, as far as I could tell, totally unmotivated. And the prose was nothing to write home about: at best it was fine, and at worst it made basic grammatical errors. I found myself wishing Smith had written a novel about police work in Stalinist Russia and left the thriller out of it. Perhaps the Booker nominators squinted past the thriller bits? Perhaps they are all too high-minded to read thrillers?

In any case, I don’t want to leave you with the impression that I hated the book. By no means! But don’t forget the little girl with the curl. If you can look past the horrid parts, the rest of it  — the exploration of conscience and loyalty, the interest in what could cause a murderer to thrive in a closed society — is very very good indeed.

This entry was posted in Fiction, Historical Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Child 44

  1. gaskella says:

    I read this a couple of years ago and remember thinking it was like the curate’s egg – good in parts. All the way through I was comparing Demidov to Martin Cruz Smith’s Arkady Renko though, and Renko won. Stylistically too, in the original hardback I read, the dialogue was in italics with dashes rather than speechmarks which I found rather irritating. However I largely enjoyed Smith’s vision of Stalin’s Russia.

    • Jenny says:

      Ah, the curate’s egg! Another great image! I haven’t read Gorky Park. Would you recommend it? Oh, and the italics didn’t bother me, but the stylistic thing where “important” phrases wound up looking

      like this

      set off from the rest of the text, did bother me quite a lot.

      • gaskella says:

        I loved Gorky Park Jenny, particularly because of its downbeat feel. Back to Child 44, I remember the stylistic quirk you mention now, and yes it was irksome!

  2. I agree that this was both good and horrid in parts. I liked its aspects of differentness (being in Stalinist Russia) but otherwise I didn’t get its critical acclaim.

  3. Jenny says:

    That’s a much shorter review than mine, but it sums it up nicely! It won a whole bunch of awards and I mostly thought the writing was just okay, the Stalinist part was interesting, and the thriller part was seriously problematic. I wonder what the sequels are like.

  4. cbjamess says:

    Well, I hated it. I only finished it because it was an ARC I had to review. The thriller aspects were by far the worst part of the book, as you mention, but they were a major part of it. If a significant part of a book is bad, at some point we have to say the book is bad in spite of the good sections it may contain. Don’t we?

    I also had a great deal of trouble with the serial killer. These sorts of murders really only exist in fiction. Maybe one or two in real life but they are so rare most of us can name all of them. They’ve gotten so out of hand, so violent, so gross, so ridiculous that they’ve become a bit laughable at this point. I never believed the one in Child 44 for a minute, even though he was based on one of the few real ones.

    • Jenny says:

      I’m so sorry you had to read it! I found the non-thriller parts pretty interesting and credible, and I kind of skimmed over the rest of it. You may be right that after a certain tipping point, we have to say the book is bad.

      Your distaste for the serial-killer genre is totally reasonable! I hate it, too! Give me a good old-fashioned revenge killer any day.

Leave your comment here, and feel free to respond to others' comments. We enjoy a lively conversation!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.