FFWD Weekly
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Wordfest by David Bright Ian Rankin - Wordfest 2000 Time was when British crime fiction was essentially plot-driven, with little or no concern for character development. Sherlock Holmes was always (more or less) the same Sherlock Holmes, ditto for Miss Marple – what mattered was whodunnit, howdunnit and whydunnit. That’s all changed in recent years. Take a look at Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse or R.D. Wingfield’s Jack Frost, in which the personal flaws and flailings of the eponymous detective often overshadow the basic mystery. Gone too is the cosy, genteel world of Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie, and in its place is the ultra-modern world of drug dealing, child abuse and senseless murder. And no contemporary crime writer has plumbed the depths of this world as convincingly or relentlessly as Edinburgh’s Ian Rankin, with his series of Inspector John Rebus novels. On the one hand, Rankin is a relative newcomer, still barely 40. On the other, he’s produced more than a dozen Rebus novels in as many years, still finding time (and energy) to write several non-Rebus books. And with a TV version of Rebus poised to hit the Canadian small screen next year, Rankin is likely to become a household name. All this is rather ironic, perhaps, as Rankin never set out to write a detective series, nor did he in fact know much about police work at all. "The first book (Knots & Crosses) was a modern version of Jekyll and Hyde," he says, "but no one picked up on it." Instead, he soon found bookstores shelving his novel in their crime sections, and persistent requests from friends to "learn more about that Rebus bloke" eventually sealed his fate. The Rebus series grew and Rankin became a crime writer. Rebus is a complex figure, haunted by the demons and failings of his past (broken marriage, betrayed friends, etc.). But his own dark side is almost overshadowed by that of Edinburgh itself. In every novel, Scotland’s capital looms large and brooding over the action, as Rankin strips away its tourist "tartan shortbread" image and instead focuses on an underworld of crime and disorder. "I wanted to show the real city," he says, noting that when he started out Edinburgh had the highest rate of AIDS- and heroin-related fatalities of all European cities. His portrayal has not endeared him to everyone, with one member of Scotland’s new parliament dismissing his most recent book as "melodramatic." But among the police themselves, Rebus is a much loved figure and Rankin enjoys a good working relationship with the local force. Not that he does much research for his books. He "got in big trouble" asking questions about police procedure for one of his early novels, and inadvertently became a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation. Nowadays, people leave him tips, suggestions and ideas for books on business cards at his local pub – the same one frequented by Rebus in the novels. "Not a bad way of doing research," Rankin laughs. His output has slowed over the years, from a book every six months to one every year or so. At that rate, he reckons that Rebus – who’s now 55 and aging in "real time" – is probably good for another 10 novels. And unlike Colin Dexter, who recently killed off Inspector Morse, Rankin has no plans to bring Rebus to a premature end. "Conan Doyle tried to do that with Sherlock Holmes," he points out with a laugh, "and the public wouldn’t let him." No Reichenbach Falls for Rebus, then, which can only be good news for the rest of us.

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