Wry, grim, brilliant

~ Big Sky, by Kate Atkinson ~

How thrilling it is when a new Jackson Brodie novel arrives in the post!

Every one of Atkinson’s novels about Brodie, the retired military man turned cop turned private detective, has been a throughly British gem. She imbues each of her characters with such personality that they feel like old friends.

Jackson Brodie is officially the main character, but he is often only the trellis on which a complicated plot hangs, with most of the action happening to other characters while Brodie struggles to make sense of the events. Jackson is middle-aged now, a little more passive, but still has trouble with relationships, loves country music, is puzzled by women, still mourns over lost girls, and never gives up. As usual, there are several overlapping threads that only approximately come together near the end of the book.

Based loosely on the real-life Jimmy Savile case, Big Sky describes a shadowy network of famous and well-to-do child abusers; decades later, one brave woman tells her story, and dozens of victims are found. Many of the abusers are dead, but three of the child-pimps have moved on to

Just girls, because there was always a demand for girls, always had been, always would be. Straightforward trade, no small children, no refugees. Just girls.

Steve, Tommy and Andy are now, to all appearances, respectable businessmen, but their real money comes from their parallel business. Perhaps the most fascinating part of this book is the way Atkinson describes each of their lives and families: Tommy’s full English breakfast, Andy’s bossy wife, Steve’s grumpy teenage children. The ‘banality of evil’ indeed.

As always, Atkinson’s female characters are memorable. Some of them were abused as children, but are survivors: strong, angry, capable.

Wives and mothers, he thought. You never wanted to get on the wrong side of them. Madonnas on steroids.

Several characters from previous Brodie books reappear. Julia, his one-time lover and mother of their child (although she denied his paternity for a few years) is present throughout, and serves as “the judge in the women’s court” in Jackson’s mind as well. Reggie Chase, a wonderful character from Started Early Took My Dog is now DC Chase (but oddly irritable with Jackson now). Tatiana, the Russian seductress from One Good Turn, flits in and out. Some new characters are also very appealing, especially Harry Holroyd, 13, who is “both young for his age, and old for his age”.

It may seem odd to describe a novel about child abuse and forced prostitution as funny, but that is the brilliance of Atkinson’s writing. Even the grimmest backstories have jaunty asides.

Jackson’s [..] own family never did anything together, never went anywhere, not even a day trip. That was the working class for you, too busy working to have time for pleasure, and too poor to pay for it if they managed to find the time. (“Didn’t you hear, Jackson?” Julia said. “The class war’s over. Everyone lost.”).

By the time Jackson was thirteen, his mother was already dead of cancer, his sister had been murdered, and his brother had killed himself. Julia could go toe to toe with Jackson in the grief stakes — one sister murdered, one sister who killed herself, one who died of cancer. (“Oh, and don’t forget Daddy’s sexual abuse,” she reminded him. “Trumps to me, I think.”)

Atkinson is particularly good at opening chapters, and it’s not until the closing that the first page makes sense. There are hints dropped throughout the book. You’ll probably want to read this more than once, just to see how this master craftsman weaves together all the threads.