The Necropolis Railway by Andrew Martin

December 23rd, 2007

The Necropolis Railway
Andrew Martin
231 p.

Faber & Faber, 2002

Back cover blurb:

When railwayman Jim Stringer moves to the garish and tawdry London of 1903, he finds his duties are confined to a mysterious graveyard line. Perplexingly, the men he works alongside have formed and instant loathing for him. And his predecessor has disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Can Jim work out what is going on before he too is travelling on a one-way coffin ticket aboard the Necropolis Railway?

Admittedly, I am not that good at crime literature. I have only read a handful of crime stories, despite having seen several dozens of TV-shows involving murder and the solving of thus. I have read one Christie and maybe a few other similar books. It is not a genre I am extremely well-acquainted with. So, that said, it is obvious I didn’t choose to read this book because of the murder itself. And I think that is good, because the murders are not very prominent. There are several murders, and they are discussed a bit, but I was never really that concentrated when it came to the murders themselves. I didn’t really care who’d dunnit, as you can say.

This book is set in the beginning of the 20th century, which is a period I find very interesting, and this book has really brought out the atmosphere of the time. When reading it, I could almost feel the grime and dirt from the London streets: it was captivating. The main character is likeable and was believable as well. I never went “you can’t figure that out like that!”, which is something I oft do when watching, say, Midsomer Murders (I do, however, have utmost faith in Tom Barnaby as well).  The language of the novel captivated and pulled me in. I can’t say that the plot was the best thing with this book, but it was presented in such a way that I was intrigued. The murder mystery is parallell with Jim’s growing attraction to his landlady. Of course, I got an impression that he was attracted to every other characer in this book, but then again, I am a pervert. Everything is rounded off with descriptions of trains, how trains work, how trains of move, how it is working with trains, &c. If I had understood what they wanted to say with these descriptions, I would be able to drive a train no problem. Unfortunately, I didn’t. But at least I know now that The Railway Magazine is sixpence a month.

Entry Filed under: Crime, English, Fiction, Historical