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Amy Bloom: "Blunt Instrument"

 It's a cliche about university professors that they tend to show signs of arrested development--they can behave in dramatic, adolescent ways, and that's fun to observe. At Yale, I had a professor whose Chaucer-expert spouse had recently started a high-profile affair with a grad student. So my professor began wearing thigh-high leather boots and speaking publicly about the dalliance she was enjoying with her new house-painter. (She also began teaching a course called "Doomed Love.")


One of my other teachers was Amy Bloom, who has just now released an academic satire disguised as a murder mystery. Bloom's protagonist is Dell, a failed scholar. (Dell's work deteriorated after her mother died. "I did all the things you're not supposed to do. I yelled at students. I arrived late. Cried for most of the ninety minutes." Then, she adds proudly, "I did NOT have sex with undergraduates...only because depression made it unappealing and Prozac made it unlikely to be rewarding....")

Now, working as a PI, Dell has been summoned to a local campus to solve an English-department murder. She attends a dinner where the elderly luminaries doze on armchairs, and a scholarship student quietly checks to be sure that no one has had a stroke. Dell learns that, when a scholar wishes to signal that he is having a temper tantrum, he removes his nameplate from the center of his office door. ("Hellzapoppin!") ...In my favorite scene, Dell shares her thoughts about the university president's work environment: "Dr. Cutty's door was shut. I heard a hum of well-bred voices. Solid wood doors make eavesdropping much harder...In my building, you can not only hear your neighbors' discussion, but you can offer color commentary and enjoy some real give-and-take..."

There is an actual murder plot--which is not the main reason to read this book. The main reason is the sense--the rare sense--that this is a thriller with an actual commitment to wit and to well-built sentences.

So: recommended.
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