Bruno Chief Of Police

The hero deals with many problems in a brilliant manner. I would definately recommend this book, now I am buying the next book in the series

I'm in the middle of my third book in this series, and I plan to read them all. If you've ever visited southwestern France, you'll love these stories set in the Perigord, where the Dordogne and Vezere rivers merge. The characters are well drawn, and the who-done-it aspect remains a mystery until the end (at least for me). A bonus -- you'll want to try more different wines and recipes from the area. Now I can scarcely wait to get back to France and those lovely little villages.

If you can't afford that vacation in the south of France this year, Bruno may be the next best thing. Walker does a wonderful job of evoking life in a small town in the Dordogne--its cuisine and odd characters, its humdrum rhythms--through the life of its shrewd, affable chief of police, the distinctively French rural bon vivant, Bruno. For good measure, Walker throws in interesting angles on everything from French bureaucracy to tensions between Muslim immigrants and the native population. A bit slow to start because of the luxuriant scene setting, the book quickly picks up and the pages fly by.

A paean to the Dordogne, an exploration of fractious French history, and the debut of the most self-possessed, accomplished, even-tempered, life-savoring Holmesian character ever, Walker's first Bruno novel proves once and for all that heavyweight journalists can write mystery novels. Former Russia and U.S. bureau chief for The Guardian, current Editor Emeritus of UPI, author of such books as "The Cold War," and "The President They Deserve," this British journalist, historian, scholar, and global policy advisor has created a hero dedicated to the quiet, regular, sensual life of rural France. Bruno, an orphan abandoned by his mother, joined the military at an early age and spent 12 years with the Combat Engineers, which seems roughly equivalent to Special Forces. Receiving a Croix de Guerre for his service in the Balkans, Bruno retired to St. Denis and became the town's police chief and only policeman. Although new to the town, he has become part of its fabric, savoring the rhythm of life - his own and that of the townspeople, from the two old WWII partisans that don't speak, and the town's token communist, to its bakers and cheese makers and vintners, its quarrels, rivalries and long-simmering feuds, even its newcomers - the English tourists who have lately been pushing up the housing prices. He plays tennis with the Baron (atheist and retired industrialist), coaches kids at rugby, hunts birds, cooks, works on his house, organizes parades, safeguards the local market from the health inspectors of the European Union, and with the help of his friend the politically well-connected mayor, generally keeps the peace. This idyllic life is threatened when someone stabs a reclusive Algerian grandfather - a hero of the French Resistance and winner of the Croix de Guerre - carving a swastika into his chest. Some druggy kids, local members of the Front National, the extreme right, are arrested, but despite motive and opportunity, Bruno is not convinced. The politicians swoop in and take over, determined to bring this sensational hate crime to a swift and triumphant conclusion. But Bruno keeps turning up evidence that delays their gratification. Meanwhile there is budding romance with an attractive inspector assigned to St. Denis for the investigation, and flirtation with the English ladies who run a small resort near the murdered man's home. There are truffles to be shaved, meals to be cooked and enjoyed with good wine, ruffled feathers to be smoothed, scenery to be admired, facts to be gleaned and interpreted. There is an edgy feel to the book, a tension caused by the ugly feelings towards immigrants, especially Muslims, seen as disrupting tradition. In return the Muslims dig in their heels and don chadors. And longstanding tensions arise from the tangled roots of WWII occupation and collaboration. Not everyone was really a member of the Resistance. Hard feelings run deep. But the strongest undercurrent is a sense of French joie de vivre, an atten

Martin Walker's first-in-a-series mystery is set in a small French town in the Dordogne area of south-west France. The main character, Bruno, is the police chief/only policemen/rugby coach/tennis coach of the small river valley town of St Denis. Bruno has a "history"; an orphan abandoned by his mother and a veteran of the NATO force in Bosnia, he has settled in St Denis and is becoming known for both his competence in his jobs and for his good cooking. This novel, which is saved from being a "cozy" by the shocking nature of the crime which Bruno and his compatriots from the larger French police system have joined together to investigate, takes a wonderful look at life in a small French village. But, as Bruno discovers, contemporary life (and crime) often has its roots in the past. And as Bruno looks into the past to solve the murder, we all find out just how much the Nazi occupation of France has tentacles which reach down 60 years to the present. Martin Walker is a wonderful writer. Though the book is part-travelogue, it never loses it's edge. I'm looking forward to reading more in the "Bruno" series.

What is it about the English that they can be so picture perfect in describing the France outside Paris that makes you want to hurry there for lunch at some bistro on a cobblestoned square, having a glass of "ballon rouge" and a Gauloise while watching the clouds float by? And then to install an unforgettable and un-French like character such as Bruno. Un-French like in the sense of an American who sees the French as surly, socialists with a chip on their arrogant shoulders. In Bruno, an ex-French paratrooper with a sense of community and loyalty to that spirit, we get pragmatism and resolve. A great little mystery wrapped up in humor, pathos, topical events and human tragedy as well as an ending that says there is more to come. Thank you Martin. We await the next installment of Bruno, Chief of a Joyful Read.

It's a bit odd admittedly to describe a murder mystery as "loving" but half this book is a love letter to the Dordogne, its small towns and in particular its cuisine. It's akin to Inspector Montalbano mystery series in Sicily, but instead of exotic criminals invading a paradise,it's an indigenous mystery. Perhaps its waxes a bit too elegaic to the region, but I much enjoyed the tale.