Armand Gamache, the former head of homicide for the Surete du Quebec and his wife Reine-Marie are revelling in their retirement, living in their beloved village of Three Pines. Anyone who has read the previous ten volumes of this series will know that Three Pines is the Canadian equivalent to England’s Midsomer. A lot of people die of unnatural causes.

When nine year old Laurent Lepage disappears, the whole village galvanises into action, searching the nearby woods. Laurent was known for his overactive imagination and no-one took any notice of his story about an enormous gun and a monster hidden in the forest. Until his body was discovered.

Isabelle Lacoste is Chief Inspector now and Jean Guy is her second in command. They work well together, but appreciate Armand’s assistance as their investigation goes far beyond the murder of one boy.

When I read this book, I thought the plot was farfetched. But Penny’s Author Notes inform us that it is all based on fact which is extraordinary.

As always the characters have in-depth conversations that are just the sort of conversations you would love to be part of: about art (should a piece be judged by its creator, or should it stand on its own), and grief (‘I’m afraid it won’t stop, and all my bones will disappear and one day I’ll just dissolve).

And then there is the food: ‘Dinner was served, starting with parsnip and apple soup, with a drizzle of walnut-infused oil on top’; then ‘’They moved from the soup to fettuccine with grilled salmon, tossed with fennel and apple’. I do not recommend reading a Louise Penny book on an empty stomach!

Reading an Inspector Gamache novel is like returning to visit a favourite aunt. Fires are always lit, comfy chairs are always available and luscious food is always served. Not to mention the proximity of a cosy bookshop, a fabulous bistro and an enticing boulangerie. If I lived there, I would be the size of a house in not time, that is, if I survived long enough!

This is easily my least favourite book in this series which I have, up to this point, loved. It is overly long at 368 pages, and that would not be a problem except that not a lot really happens and there is a decided dip in the middle of the book, where it just drags. Definitely too much gazing at art, analysing art and talking about art. Without being able to see the art in question, it wears very thin very quickly.

I think part of the problem is our beloved Armand Gamache has retired with his long-suffering wife to the idyll that is Three Pines. That doesn’t leave much scope for him to be involved in an active investigation, so instead he feels impelled to help his friend Clara find her missing husband. Not the most riveting of plots, and as the book approached the conclusion it got more and more convoluting and it totally lost me for a while.

I do hope that this is just a glitch - Louise Penny is usually so reliable. Let’s hope the next instalment picks up the pace again. Although having Gamache retired could be a major stumbling block.

I am methodically working my way through this series - it is an absolute joy. The previous instalment found Chief Inspector Armande Gamache and his right-hand man, Jean-Guy Beauvoir part ways in the most acrimonious of ways - it was heartbreaking.

We now find Inspector Isabelle Lacoste has taken over Beauvoir’s role, and the toxic powers that want to crush Gamache have destroyed his tight-knit homicide team, leaving him and Lacoste isolated within the Surete du Quebec.

Gamache receives a call for help from Myrna, the bookshop owner in Three Pines: her friend has gone missing and she fears the worst. Gamache and Lacoste discover that Myrna’s friend was in fact the last surviving Ouellet quintuplet, born at the height of the depression. She had hidden her true identity all her adult life. When she is discovered, murdered in her own home, Gamache wonders if her famous beginning has anything to do with her murder.

But while he investigates the murder, Gamache is also struggling to uncover who is behind the obvious corruption within the force, and what is their master plan. Can Gamache save Jean-Guy from his addiction?

There is so much to love about Penny’s writing; and I have to say any author who quotes [a:Julian of Norwich|156980|Julian of Norwich|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1244247893p2/156980.jpg]’s wonderful line: ‘All shall be well’ is fine by me! And who wouldn’t love to think that there are people like Gamache in the world, who ‘held unfashionable beliefs’? Who ‘believed that light would banish the shadows. That kindness was more powerful than cruelty, and that goodness existed, even in the most desperate places’?

This book is unputdownable. It’s perfectly paced, with the right balance between the personal stories of the characters that we have grown to love, the murder investigation and a race to uncover a plot that could see thousands of innocent people die.

Outstanding!

This eighth instalment of the series sees Gamache and Beauvior investigating the brutal murder of a monk who was a member of the Gilbertine monks, an order that lives a cloistered, contemplative life in an abbey ‘as far from civilisation as they could get’.

Gregorian plainchant is at the core of this mystery, and I felt I should have been listening to it as I read! The ‘beautiful mystery’ of the title refers to the extraordinary effect listening to Gregorian chant has on the human body. Blood pressure drops, breathing becomes deeper and the brain starts to produce alpha waves.

This small community of two dozen monks have lived a simple and harmonious life for many years. But disharmony occurs when the choirmaster, Frere Mathieu, convinces them to release a recording of their singing, to raise much needed funds for the ageing monastic buildings. The funds are appreciated, but the relentless attention of the outside world is not. The community is divided.

Could this divide be responsible for the murder of Frere Mathieu? Who amongst these holy men could be responsible for the brutal murder of their choirmaster?

The unexpected arrival of Gamache’s superior and nemesis, Superintendent Francoeur, creates tension between Gamache and Beauvoir, and distracts them from the investigation at hand. Why has he insinuated himself into the investigation? And why is he creating a divide between the two officers?

I have read this series in order, so I must say I missed the village of Three Pines, where most of the other books are set, but unless we want all the residents to disappear under mysterious circumstances, our favourite members of the Quebec Surete must solve crimes in other locations! And what better location than an abbey on an isolated island, surrounded by fog?

Another cracker in this series by Louise Penny, set in the mysterious Quebec village of Three Pines: it may not be on any map, but a lot of people seem to die here!

This series is less about the crimes committed, and more about the development of the characters and their ongoing stories. They are why I come back to this series.

This instalment takes us into the ‘art world’. It may look all genteel and high-brow from the outside, but scratch the surface and it’s rife with greed and cut-throat behaviour. Clara’s art has been discovered and she is celebrating after her first solo show at the famed Musee in Montreal. When a woman’s body is discovered in Clara & Peter’s garden the following morning, Chief Inspector Armande Gamache, together with Jean Guy Beauvoir and Isabelle Lacoste return to Three Pines to investigate her brutal murder.

They uncover a world of lies, secrets and concealed emotions. Armande and Jean Guy are still recovering from injuries incurred several books ago. Jean Guy in particular is struggling, his marriage is in tatters and he has fallen for someone who would appear to be unattainable. When you have read all the series up to this point, you are invested in these characters, and at this point, I am very worried for our young Jean Guy.

This instalment is ultimately about hope; hope for redemption, hope for forgiveness and, in Ruth’s case, hope for the return of a lost companion.

Time spent with Amanda Gamache is always time well spent.

We find Chief Inspector Armand Gamache in Quebec City, spending time with his dear friend and mentor Emile Comeau. Both he and Jean-Guy Beauvoir, his second in command, are recovering from wounds, both physical and emotional. Throughout the book, how these wounds were inflicted is revealed in flashbacks.

When a notorious amateur archeologist is found murdered in the basement of The Literary and Historical Society’s Library, the Quebec police ask for Gamache’s assistance. The plot explores the tension between the Anglophone and Francophone residents of Quebec, and how this tension has, in the past, exploded into terrorism and violence. The Literary & Historical Society holds the English community’s records, their thoughts, their memories, their symbols. Penny’s descriptions of the library are written with obvious affection and warmth for all libraries: It was a room at once intimate and grand. It smelled of the past, of a time before computers, before information was ‘Googled’ and ‘blogged’. Before laptops and BlackBerries and all the other tools that mistook information for knowledge.

Meanwhile, Jean-Guy is also on leave and recovering. Gamache has asked him to spend time in our beloved village of Three Pines, looking into the murder they investigated in the previous book [b:The Brutal Telling|6449551|The Brutal Telling (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, #5)|Louise Penny|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327952311l/6449551.SX50.jpg|6639657]. Gamache is concerned that the wrong man has been convicted. As always, it’s Gamache’s point of view that makes this series so rewarding. He ruminates on what makes his job so fascinating, and so difficult - How the same person could be both kind and cruel, compassionate and wretched. Unraveling a murder was more about getting to know the people than the evidence.

Penny has written a taut, complex and suspenseful novel, which is seeped with a deep sense of sadness and tragedy. The three storylines are resolved, some in unexpected ways. This is by far the best in this series - and they’ve all been outstanding! I highly recommend reading these books in order to fully appreciate the development of the characters.

Chaos had found Three Pines. It was bearing down upon them and all that was safe and warm and kind was about to be taken away. This is far and away the darkest of Penny’s books so far. She explores the dark heart that can be well hidden from view. Gamache’s second in command, Beauvoir remembers one of the first lessons Gamache taught him: What kills can’t be seen. It’s not a gun or knife or a fist. It’s an emotion. Rancid, spoiled.

When the body of an unknown man is discovered on the floor of Olivier’s beloved bistro in Three Pines, it’s soon apparent that Olivier has kept many secrets, not only from his partner Gabri, but from all his friends who think they know him so well. This is one of the many elements that makes Penny’s books shine so bright, her fearlessness in showing a character’s true self, flaws included. None of us is totally pure of heart, and we see these people in all their true colours.

But the darkness is leavened with wonderful glimpses of light, for example Gamache reminiscing about the end of the summer school holidays: The mix of sadness at the end of summer, and excitement to see his chums again. The new clothes, bought after a summer’s growth. The new pencils, sharpened over and over, and the smell of the shavings. And the new notebooks. Always strangely thrilling. Unmarred. No mistakes yet. All they held was promise and potential. So evocative!

This series is best read in order to fully appreciate the character development.

I’m having a wonderful time reading these books in order. Whenever I feel the world is getting too much, I pick up the next instalment of Chief Inspector Armand Gamache’s mysteries and I feel there is still hope for humanity.

This book is not set in our favourite village of Three Pines, but in the luxurious, and isolated, Manoir Bellechasse, where Armand and his wife Reine-Marie are celebrating their wedding anniversary. Of course, a murder takes place, and Armand leads his team with his usual kindness and big heart.

I won’t tell you more, however, as always, Penny’s writing elevates this book well above others in the genre. I leave you with an example:

Grief was dagger-shaped and sharp and pointed inward. It was made of fresh loss and old sorrow. Rendered and forged and sometimes polished. Irene Finney had taken her daughter’s death and to that sorrow she’d added a long life of entitlement and disappointment, of privilege and pride. And the dagger she’d fashioned was taking a brief break from slashing her insides, and was now pointed outward. At Armand Gamache.

This is the third instalment of the Three Pines series by Louise Penny. This series just gets better and better as Penny settles into her characters and their setting.

Another unusual death brings C.I. Armand Gamache of the Surete du Quebec and his team back to the idyllic village of Three Pines. Could the victim really have been scared to death while attending a seance? As Gamache and his team interview the witnesses and suspects, the joy de vivre of the community is over-shadowed by the looming presence of the old Hadley house on the hill, drawing inspiration, I think, from the Bates house in Psycho!

While Gamache leads his team in their investigation, there are enemies in the Police force who will stop at nothing to destroy him. He suspects that a member of his team is a traitor, feeding information back to his enemies in the Surete. But who can it be?

My book club’s theme this month was ‘Food in Crime novels’. The Three Pines books simply ooze food: I counted over ten detailed descriptions of the the food and beverages enjoyed by the characters in this instalment! My favourite was on page 201:

Gamache’s coq au vin filled the table with a rich, earthy aroma and an unexpected hint of maple. Delicate young beans and glazed baby carrots sat in their own white serving dish. A massive charbroiled steak smothered in panfried onions was placed in front of Beauvoir. A mound of frites sat in his serving dish. Beauvoir could have died happily right there and then, but he’d have missed the creme brûlée for dessert.

Sigh…the village of Three Pines…don’t we all want to live there? ‘It had croissants and cafe au lait. It had steak frites and the New York Times. It had a bakery, a bistro, a B. & B., a general store. It had peace and stillness and laughter. It had great joy and great sadness and the ability to accept both and be content. It had companionship and kindness.’

This is the second murder that involves the good folk of Three Pines, and brings Chief Inspector Armand Gamache back to their village to investigate. He is welcomed with warmth and hospitality. And let’s face it, what’s not to like about Gamache? Though he was only in his early fifties there was an old world charm about Gamache, a courtesy and manner that spoke of a time past. His second in command, Beauvoir, quietly acknowledges to himself that Gamache was the best of them, the smartest and bravest and strongest because he was willing to go into his own head alone, and open all the doors there, and enter all the dark rooms. And make friends with what he found there. And he went into the dark, hidden rooms in the minds of others. The minds of killers. And he faced down whatever monsters came at him. He went places Beauvoir had never even dreamed existed.

CC de Poitiers was not liked, in fact, she was detested. So when she is bizarrely electrocuted at the annual curling tournament, surrounded by the entire village and no one saw it happen, there is no shortage of suspects who would have gladly finished her off! My only quibble with this book is the character of CC: she is grotesque, without any humanity or redeeming features. It’s very hard to care who killed her, as the world is a better place without her!

The setting is Christmas time, and the novel is filled with moments where the reader wishes they could join in; Christmas Eve traditions involving carols, midnight church and lashings of mouthwatering food and wine. Penny’s descriptions of these warm and convivial gatherings of the Three Pines community are in stark contrast to not only the prevailing weather, but the cold and bitter character of the victim. The weather is a character in its own right, impacting on everyone’s lives and movements.

Gamache has a team he trusts and relies upon. However, the return of Agent Yvette Nichol gives Gamache pause. He suspects that she may have been sent by his superiors to cause trouble, or worse. Is it to do with the Arnot case, which haunts Armand and about which we, the readers, know little, apart from its fallout leaving Gamache ostracised by his fellow members of the Surete du Quebec?

The books ends with a satisfying resolution, although several tantalising clues are left for the reader, letting us know that we will see the return of Gamache, but there is a dark cloud on his horizon.

Highly recommended!

Having thoroughly enjoyed the new tv series Three Pines, I felt impelled to explore the books on which it is based. So I started with this, the first in the series. Thankfully, the case investigated in Still Life, is not touched upon in the first season of the series.

When Jane Neal’s body is discovered in the woods it is at first assumed that she has been killed in a hunting accident. However, it soon becomes apparent that Jane has been murdered. A universally liked and admired retired teacher, Jane is an unlikely murder victim. As Chief Inspector Armande Gamache begins to interview the residents of Three Pines, he soon discovers that there are many secrets hiding behind the white picket fences.

What makes this book special? Louise Penny lets us hear each character’s thoughts. We start to see through their eyes, and particularly through the eyes of Gamache. He’s patient (sometimes to a fault according to his second in command, Inspector Jean Guy Beauvoir) and gives everyone his full attention. He notices everything. He is kind and he is empathetic. As he first examines Jane’s body, we learn that he always felt a pang when looking at the hands of the newly dead, imagining all the objects and people those hands had held. The food, the faces, the doorknobs. All the gesture they’d made to signal delight or sorrow. And the final gesture, surely, to ward off the blow that would kill. The most poignant were the hands of young people who would never absently brush a lock of gray hair from their own eyes.

Penny makes the reader slow down, and keep pace with Gamache’s quiet and calm approach to the investigation. He’s a thinker, and we are privy to his many ruminations. I found this meditation on death particularly moving:

Normally, death came at night, taking a person in their sleep, stopping their heart or tickling them awake, leading them to the bathroom with a splitting headache before pouncing and flooding their brain with blood. It waits in alleys and metro stops. After the sun goes down plugs are pulled by white-clad guardians and death is invited into an antiseptic room.