Put books on the cover of a book and I'm guaranteed to pick it up. I'm almost even guaranteed to buy it. In this particular case, Death of a Bookseller was destined to come home with me. I mean, seriously, look at that gorgeous cover! Now I know, as well as anyone, the adage that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover but we all do it. And while Bernard J. Farmer's bibliomystery didn't live up to the cover, it was a pleasant enough read for a couple of hours.

Sergeant Wigan is heading home after his late evening shift when he meets a cheerful and inebriated man. Michael Fisk is celebrating his acquisition of a first edition copy of Keats' Endymion, owned and inscribed by the author, an excedingly rare and valuable find for a runner and collector in the antiquarian book trade. Rather than arresting him, Wigan escorts Fisk home, eventually striking up a friendship with the otherwise lonely man and starting to learn about the business of collecting from him. When Fisk is subsequently found murdered in his study some time later, the Keats book missing, Wigan is called to assist the D.I. assigned to the case because of his knowledge of the surprisingly cutthroat business of rare books.

Wigan is a kindly and honest policeman with a strong moral streak and he knows when he doesn't know something, having no trouble relying on others to help him when his own knowledge is lacking. When another book runner, an unpleasant, argumentative man defended by no one who knows him, is arrested for the murder and sentenced to hang, Wigan is troubled because he is certain the man didn't do it, convicted instead on circumstantial evidence that the D.I. forced around him instead of thoroughly examining all avenues. Sure of this impending miscarriage of justice, Wigan investigates on his own time, jeopardizing his police career. He meets and talks to many colorful characters in the antiquarian trade, from humble barrow boys selling books out of wheelbarrows, to runners who scour secondhand stores, estate sales, and such for undiscovered prizes, to buyers working for wealthy clients, the wealthy collectors themselves, and respectable, or seemingly respectable, book shop owners. As the time when the convicted man will be hanged grows closer, Wigan and the tradesmen who are helping him seem to be hitting nothing but dead ends.

The first half of the mystery is quite slow and drawn out while the second half takes on a much tenser and desperate pace. The writing is simple, direct, and accessible; it feels sturdy and workmanlike. Wigan is not really an investigator for much of the story but is the person around whom all of the information coalesces. The ultimate solution to the crime was a bit out of left field and the confession offered up was simply strange, compelled by almost nothing. There is a thread of occultism dotting the story, ultimately important to the denouement, but awkwardly inserted. Where Farmer really shines is in the depiction of police procedures of the 50s and the truthful depiction of the surprisingly less than genteel and scholarly antiquarian book trade and the eccentric characters who practiced it. The mystery itself was simply the hanger on which to hang Farmer's observations of the chicanery surrounding the buying and selling of old books. Over all it was enjoyable enough, if not a thrilling exampe of the genre. ( )

This is the 100th in the British Library Crime Classics series, that focuses on golden age crime fiction, particularly if out of print and hence unavailable to current readers.

I have read only about 10% so far and have been very happy to have done so.

This is not the strongest novel, but given the nature of the subject matter, is bibliomaniac, it is a very valid choice.

I have been a bit of an adverse critic as to previous books read in this series as to the matching of the cover and the actual text, but on this occasion it is superb.

The very decent Sergrant Wigan befriends Mike Fisk, a second hand book buyer/seller, and learns the basics of that occupation. Mike is later murdered, and Wigan is seconded to the investigating team because of his book knowledge.

Fred, another book person with a reputation of excitability, is soon identified as a suspect and in due course found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging (this is mis 2000s/London). Wigan thinks something is wrong but cannot put his finger on it.

The balance of the book is the working out of the true murderer. It involves a lot of second hand book industry history/knowledge as well as the pressure on Wigan who is looking for an answer that is contrary to that determined by the official police investigation and the trial and jury finding.

The revelation of the actual murderer was a little underwhelming…..walking into a stakeout, and not overly (in my opinion) with any particular reasons for doing so

Worth reading in my view, but not one to rush to do so

Big Ship

16 April 2023 ( )

Death of a Bookseller is a great example of classic British mystery fiction. The protagonist is a dutiful, honest, and kind police officer, Sergeant Wigan. He strikes up a friendship with a bookseller who introduces him to the art of collecting books. Wigan is enthusiastic and their friendship blooms until cut short when his friend is murdered. Wigan is seconded to the investigation which was led by one of those people who jumps to a conclusion and then assembles the evidence. He succeeds in winning the conviction of an unpleasant man who Wigan believes is innocent.

On his own time and at his own expense, Wigan looks for the real murderer, meeting people from every strata of the book collecting world from rich collectors who think nothing of making a transcontinental flight to track down a book to lowly and impoverished runners who scrounge estate sales and rummage bins. There are quite a few colorful characters and Wigan soon learns that bookselling is a cutthroat business, far less genteel than it may seem on the surface.

Death of a Bookseller is unlikely to keep you up reading through the night. It is a mental puzzle rather than a breakneck thriller. The imminent execution looms larger in Wigan’s mind than in the readers. The tension and the time crunch would be more powerful in a film than in Wigan’s painstaking investigation. I do have one complaint, though, the most likable people get killed. I mourned the victim of the last murder in the book and wish he could have just been unconscious or something, anything but profligately killed off by a cruel author.

I received an e-galley of Death of a Bookseller from the publisher through NetGalley.

Death of a Bookseller at Poisoned Pen Press | Sourcebooks
Bernard J, Farmer at Classic Crime Fiction

https://tonstantweaderreviews.wordpress.com/2023/04/06/death-of-a-bookseller-by-... ( )

Death of a Bookseller is the 100th entry in the British Library Crime Classics series. It was first printed in 1956, and, as such, still contains the oftentimes uncomfortable attitudes of the time. A policeman befriends a used book seller who is then murdered and when a rare book is found to be missing from his collection, a connection is made to the business. Because Sergeant Wigan had been learning the basics of the used book trade, he is kept on to help investigate the murder of his friend. This classic bibliomystery really seemed to drag in the middle but I managed to stick with it and was ultimately rewarded with a satisfying ending. I do love the cover and Martin Edwards introductions.

Thank you to NetGalley and Poisoned Pen Press for the egalley. ( )

Bernard J. Farmer's Death of a Bookseller is the latest volume in the British Library Crime Classics series. I've read several volumes in this series and found them both well-plotted and uncomfortably anachronistic. These aren't the kinds of mysteries where you figure things out halfway through and then tap your fingers and wait for the ending to confirm what you've already figured out.

The uncomfortable bits are that these mysteries, written between 1890 and 1960, express views about gender/national/cultural identity that, frankly, are now offensive. I actually support the decision by the editors to leave this material in. We need to remind ourselves of what was viewed as inoffensive entertainment in our past. We need to be uncomfortable. In this instance, the bias took the shape of a good deal of gender stereotyping. Not good. But it's something I've found myself having to read around since my childhood, when Dick's life was much more interesting than Jane's.

Death of a Bookseller's strength—and no doubt the reason it was chosen for reprinting—is its depiction of the many players in the secondhand book market: runners scraping out a living finding the occasional quality volume in second-hand stores, owners and operators of bookstores from the homey to the high-end, buyers who spend their lives tracking down volumes wanted by wealthy collectors, and the collectors themselves. If you enjoy reading, these sorts of details can fascinate.

The plot involves a murdered "runner." He's not as badly off as some of his cohort, but he's certainly not rich. The most valuable thing he owned was a one-off volume of a famous poem, and this is the one item that appears to no longer be in his home. The D.I. in charge of the case is quickly convinced by circumstantial evidence to focus on one suspect, while a lower-ranking officer, who was a friend of the murdered man and who knows a bit about book collection, fears the wrong man will be convicted and executed. Things grow increasingly complicated (in a good way, not a confusing way) as more characters enter the story and a thread relating to occultism is introduced.

If you enjoy classic mysteries, you will probably be quite pleased with this volume. I received a free electronic review copy of it from the publisher via Edelweiss+; the opinions are my own. ( )