The Art of Murder [Paperback]

However there is a dark side to the hyperdramatic movement, with the illegal creation of ornaments where canvases are turned into everyday objects e.g. lamps, chairs, the kidnapping of children to be used as canvases and in this book the murder of some of Bruno van Tysch's finest pieces.

Although this is a murder mystery book I didn't think of it in that way. I was so absorbed in how well the hyperdramatic movement was explained and developed through the book (I could actually believe it really existed) that I very rarely thought about who the murder could be. The debate on morality throughout the book was also fascinating; is hyperdramatism cruel even though people want to be canvases, and were the victims murdered people or destroyed pieces of art.

I really enjoyed this book as the ideas were so original and I would recommend it to others to read although I'm not sure I would read it a second time. I didn't realise it was a translation till I was near the end of the book, so I think the translator did a fantastic job as the story flows brilliantly.

The Art of Murder (the Spanish title, Clara and Shade, is both better and far more effective considering the context of the novel) is similarly original, yet not quite as brilliant. It certainly won't win the Dagger again, but it'll probably still end up as one of the best novels of the year, due to its concept and the obvious intelligence that lies behind every single page.

The year is 2006, and the latest craze in the art world is "hyperdramatism". Human beings become the canvases, the art, and are exhibited in museums, bought and rented by collectors. Young men and women queue up for the privilege of being turned into "works of art", painted and signed; made famous. Individualism has gone out of the window; people are turned into a celebrated commodity.

The most acclaimed artist of all is Dutch master Bruno van Tysch, reclusive and enigmatic. However, when Annek Hollech, a model in his exhibition "Flowers", is abducted and killed, the lines between the canvas and the person behind it become confusingly blurred. Agents from van Tysch's security agency, April Wood and Lothar Bosch, are assigned to investigate the murder. Their job is made harder by the secrecy that the investigation has to be kept in - news must not get out or there would be outcry and panic. On top of that, van Tysch is about to launch a major new exhibition in Amsterdam - based on 13 of Rembrandt's masterpieces - and suspicions are rife that the murdered is about to strike again.

This novel succeeds admirably on several levels. Firstly, it succeeds as a knowing critique of a society which invests so much in appearance, in humans as a commodity. It also succeeds, hugely, as an investigation into everything concerned with art - its relevance, its morality (this strand stretches far out of art though, and encompasses humans in general), its future, its importance. He raises large questions, and you'd never think that such an abstract a topic as "art" could form such solid foundations for a novel ideas, which is partly what this book is.

It's sharply written and well-translated, and you get the sense of a formidable intelligence behind it all - as with his previous book. Possibly it is slightly too long. As a whole, it is not quite as good as The Athenian Murders, a cerebral masterpiece, and it's end isn't as stunning (none are, though) but that doesn't mean it isn't great. Apparently there are no more books immediately scheduled to be translated, but I dearly hope that that state of affairs will change. Somoza's prize-winning, boundary-smashing novels should all be translated into English, and I for one will gladly read them as they are.