Over on the book of faces, I'm friends with she who was formerly known as Caltech Girl out in blogland. She shared news that the Thursday Murder Club books were in the process of being cast for movie making and gushed about not only how fabulous the casting was but also how good the books are.
Being always on the look for a good book, I snagged the first and gave it a read. I enjoyed it quite a lot, so went on to gather up the other three books (thus far) in the series. Yesterday, I finished the fourth book, and I have some thoughts. They're spoilery in nature, so I think I can add a fold thingy, but in case that fails, you've been warned. (Whelp, I tried, and while it did cut off the post here, it didn't give a link to click for more. So yeah. Here be spoilers.)
--- SPOILERY THOUGHTS ABOUND ---
The books follow a set of mid-seventy to eighty year olds who live in a senior community in the British countryside. You have Elizabeth, the former MI6 agent, Joyce - the grandmother next door, Ron - a former union organizer, and Ibrahim - a former and sometimes present psychologist. They're a great set of friends, formed by Elizabeth to, initially, discuss and maybe solve cold cases.
Of course they end up with hot cases instead.
I'm not going to go on and on about the plots - the mysteries are all quite fun and while they don't necessarily keep you guessing, they aren't supremely obvious. And really, they're more about the characters and the relationships than the actual murders.
And that begins to be some of the issue for me.
The first book, in the end, has one of Elizabeth's dear friends who is in the nursing portion of the community essentially in a vegetative state. And the woman's husband ultimately administers a fatal dose of something, sits with her while she dies, and then goes back to his apartment and offs himself.
In that book, or possibly book two, another gentleman not in the club, although Joyce is somewhat pursuing him, being a widow who misses companionship, take his own life because he's unable and unwilling to live without his late wife.
All throughout the first three books, Elizabeth is dealing with the fact that her husband is slowly slipping into the fog of dementia. This comes to a head in book four where, after denial and then conversations and a trip to a former KGB friend (it makes sense when you know Elizabeth), she and Stephen (her husband) decide that she'll dose him up and then he can die on his own terms and in control.
Now, I will never say that dying isn't hard. And horrible. I can attest from having seen it first hand now twice that it is both of them. And dementia is maybe worse than cancer, having seen that with hubby's mom.
And yet, the subtle and not so subtle push that euthanasia is not only easy and painless but shouldn't be illegal and should be considered the height of sacrifice rather than, well, murder, is unavoidable in the pages of these books. And yet it remains subtle enough that I suspect most people won't sit back at the end and say, "Wow. What a propaganda for murder and suicide that was!" In fact, I kind of doubt that most people won't even consciously recognize that little push toward a change in thinking at all.
It's...devious. And I hate it.
Life is not ours to take. Not our own life. Not someone else's life - regardless of their age or gestation or physical state. (And yes, I am against the death penalty, too. Though I suppose I have complicated feelings on the military, as I do believe we have the right and obligation to defend ourselves. But that's a quandary for another day.)
Our broader global culture has shifted to the point of viewing life so cheaply that I just can't believe it some days. Other days, I believe it just fine, even though I also believe it pains God deeply. And so I wonder, not for the first time, if I am wrong for taking enjoyment from 98% of the books when the push to accept values so deeply different from my own is there in the other 2%. (Or, in book 4, 75%. Perhaps, had I not read book four, I wouldn't even be having this conversation.)
So, whereas I bought the first four books, going forward, I think they'll be library reads, if I read them at all. Will I watch the movie? I guess we'll see. I am very excited about the casting, but I'm also so disappointed with where the author took things time and again that now...I just don't know.
Read them, but keep your eyes open. (Then again, that's true of any media and something I think we are a people are forgetting to do on our slippery slope back into the carnal madness of ancient Rome.)
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