Saturday Morning Murder
By: Batya Gur
translated by: Dalya Bilu
November 30, 1993 Harper Perennial
304 pages
They don’t make them like they used to. Usually, this is a nostalgic cry for times gone by, but in the case of a Batya Gur’s Michael Ohayon detective novels, it’s simply a statement of modern reality. The first novel, Saturday Morning Murder, which I read in translation by Dalya Bilu, was published in the 1930’s, long before modern methods of crime detection came to dominate crime fiction. Which is part of what makes it so delightful.
There’s is no DNA evidence or mass spectrometer here. The most exciting bit of forensics is matching a bullet to a gun that we all already knew was the murder weapon anyway. An entire twisty plot point would be laughable in today’s age of electronic records. So how does Detective Ohayon get anything done? Well, he talks to people and he noticed small discrepancies. Michael Ohayon is a master at slowly, methodically entering the heads of those involved in the case. Despite his superiors constant nagging that he speed it up, he takes the time to fully understand the suspects and their milleu. Which is not to say that his own personal life is not a great big dumpster fire of disaster, because it most definitely is, but this ability to connect with those involved in a case gives him an insight into how to make them talk. How to catch what others overlook.
Each book in the series is meant to be a mental deep dive into a particular community. It feels fitting the first such group featured is one that deals exclusively in the matters of the mind – a psychoanalytic institute. In order to solve the murder of a leading analyst, Michael must learn all about analysis, including the people who perform and seek it. It’s an explanatory handbook on a topic readers might not otherwise understand even on a surface level.
Don’t get me wrong, a walk down nostalgia lane has its drawbacks. There’s a certain sexism inherent in Detective Ohayon’s dealings, his dealings with women pretty deplorable. However, the choice to have the main detective be of Moroccan descent makes his interactions with the “outsiders” of his society more relatable. He too has felt the sting of rejection from a European elite that doesn’t recognize his accomplishments as worthy, or assumes he is less than. Also refreshing is that while Detective Ohayan may not find analysis particularly attractive, it is clear that a significant military side character is greatly benefiting from it. It’s just too bad his analyst has been murdered.
Without the trips to the lab there’s more space for the characters to breathe. It gives Saturday Morning Murder a different pace and style than modern readers might be used to. I don’t think I could read the entire series back to back. However, I definitely intend to read the rest. They’re a nice break from the hectic crush of social media and molecular biology filled thrillers. Sometimes, it’s good to revisit our past.