Writers of noir fiction always run the risk of self-parody. The conventions of noir–the tough-as-nails private eye, the femme fatale, the hardboiled prose–have been rehashed and recycled so many times that it seems nearly impossible to wring anything original and compelling out of the genre. But Phillip Kerr manages to do just that in his Berlin Noir trilogy. Kerr’s conceit is to choose one of the most noir settings imaginable: Berlin during the rise and fall of the Third Reich. After all, the corruption and violence of the Nazi regime provides an ideal milieu to explore the darker side of human nature. Bernie Gunther, the protagonist of the loosely connected novels that make up Berlin Noir, is a struggling private detective with no great love for the Nazis, but is resigned to living under their tyranny. The best he can hope for is to scratch out a living for himself and survive whatever fate lies in store for Germany and her mad rulers.
Gunther can ill-afford to turn down a case and he finds himself investigating murders and extortion rackets that bring him uncomfortably close to the thuggish despots he so despises. Kerr’s historical research is deftly incorporated into the stories, making Gunther’s encounters with figures like Heinrich Himmler all the more disquieting. Some of Kerr’s plot devices are a bit clumsy in their convenience, but his vivid writing makes such sins easily forgivable. And one you read this book, you’ll never look at a wine press in the same way again.
