Secrets of the Abbey by Jean-Luc Bannalec, Reviewed

  

 If, like me, you’ve been following Commissaire Georges Dupin around Brittany for the last decade, you already know the ritual: sun-drenched salt air, endless cups of grand crème, buttery kouign-amann appearing at exactly the right moment, and a murder that somehow ties into Celtic legends, oyster farming, or (in this case) the eerie former abbey on the wild Côte des Légendes. Book eleven, The Secrets of the Abbey, delivers all the expected pleasures, and that, oddly enough, is part of its slight letdown.

The set up is classic Bannalec. An unseasonably warm October finds Dupin grumbling good-naturedly while Second Inspector Kadeg — usually the butt of gentle jokes — suffers a personal tragedy. His aunt dies after a string of ominous “signs of death,” and when Kadeg visits her home in a deconsecrated abbey someone puts him in intensive care. Dupin races to the coast with the team, and soon the abbey’s shadowy corridors are spilling long-buried family secrets, whispered superstitions, and more than one motive for murder.

As always, Bannalec’s Brittany is practically a character in its own right. You’ll smell the sea, taste the crêpes, and come away with a short course in medieval Breton architecture and local death omens whether you meant to or not. Dupin himself remains irresistible: caffeine-powered, impatient with nonsense, secretly sentimental, and still capable of solving a case by sheer stubbornness and a well-timed pastry break.

The mystery is clever, the writing elegant (the translation by Sorcha McDonagh continues to be seamless), and the atmosphere thick enough to cut with one of Dupin’s beloved Opinel knives. Yet — and this is something I’ve never said about a Dupin book before — I found myself setting it down without reluctance. The pacing feels a touch leisurely, even for this deliberately unhurried series, and the central puzzle, while satisfying, lacks the irresistible pull of the best entries.

Longtime fans will still enjoy every page; it’s like revisiting a favorite café where the coffee is still excellent even if this particular blend isn’t the most memorable you’ve had. New readers could start here, but I’d gently nudge them toward Death in Brittany or The Granite Coast Murders for peak Dupin.

In short: another solid, scenic, croissant-scented investigation. Just not the one I’ll be pressing into friends’ hands with quite the same urgency as numbers 1-10.

(And yes, I still want Dupin’s life — minus the attempted murders, of course.) 3 1/2 stars

 You can order your copy here.

 I received an advanced digital copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Death of a Master Chef by Jean-Luc Bannalec, a Review

 

I recently had the opportunity to read an absolutely delightful book, Death of a Master Chef by Jean-Luc Bannalec. I was surprised to learn that this book was ninth in the series of the “Brittany Mysteries,” as this was my first experience with this author. It’s rare that I pick up a book, sit down to read, and don’t get up again until the book is finished. That’s what happened to me with this one, much to the annoyance of Stanley the cat, who was quite miffed at not getting his usual snuggles. (I will admit to having 2 double espressos during the process, because I absolutely could not stand to allow Dupin to drink alone.)

 The book features Commissaire George Dupin, “a cantankerous Parisian-born caffeine junkie,” who recently relocated from Paris to the sleepy little town of Concarneau on the Breton coast where he continually feeds “…his extreme almost medically, indicated caffeine consumption.” There’s no question that Dupin is the star of the show here, but there are a lot of other wonderful characters in this novel that bring it to life, the least of which end up being victims in what proves to be a puzzling series of murders. That, coupled with the wonderful descriptions of the scenery, not to mention the toothsome sounding food, had me both salivating and ready to book a trip to France at the same time.

 The mystery is a good one. We learn, in the first couple of pages, that the first victim is Blanche Trouin, the Michelin starred chef of the region, who is stabbed to death by her own sister, competing restaurateur, Lucille. The stabbing was done publicly, so there’s no question as to the perpetrator, the big question is why she refuses to talk or provide any reasoning behind what seems like an unwarranted attack, despite their ongoing feud. Dupin, visiting the food stalls near where she was stabbed, appeasing himself due to the fact that he is reluctantly in the area to attend École du Police,  finds himself one of three commissaires working to solve this complex case.

 The descriptive writing here is beautiful. You will feel as though you are walking right alongside Dupin working to solve this baffling mystery. You will commiserate with him over his lost bag of gourmet cheeses, you will join him as he imbibes one café after another, and sample the complex taste of Rhum J.M. I had a great interest in knowing where all the action was taking place, so found myself referring quite often to a detailed map of France, feeling as though I had learned so much about this particular region.

I did not at all feel at a loss due to the fact that I had not read any other books in this series. Clearly this, and presumably the others, can be read as a standalone. Slated for publication April 30, 2024, I encourage you to pre-order this book, and then place an order for the other eight in the series. It is exceptionally good, you will fall in love with Dupin, and be booking tickets to Brittany, France. So, put your feet up and Taol da bouez’ ta*.

 *Cast off your worries. ​

 Disclaimer: I would like to thank both NetGalley and Minotaur Books for providing me with an advanced digital copy of this wonderful book, in exchange for an honest review.

As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.