Tunes from the past
Música para
los muertos
Luis Gutiérrez Maluenda
Tropismos, 2007, 166 pages
Javier Sánchez Zapatero
Translation:
Connections
between music and crime literature have been many and intense throughout
history. From Sherlock Holmes's love of the violin to Kurt Wallander's
enthusiasm for opera, via Boris Vian's two artistic sides or the
continual appearance of elements of popular folklore in Manuel
Vázquez Montalbán's or Jean-Claude Izzo's
novels, there have been various authors who have linked their works
with some musical piece or genre, even turning the name of a song
into a book title, as in the very recent case of La
neblina de ayer (Leonardo Padura) or Las
pruebas de la infamia (Joaquín
Leguina).
Without doubt jazz is the music that
appears most closely associated with the crime novel. In fact the
consolidation of both artistic forms occurred almost simultaneously
in the USA of the 1930s, a disturbed period of upheaval when the
American people attempted to combat the devastating atmosphere
of crisis and corruption all around by taking refuge in the day-to-day
pleasures of life, especially those that could be enjoyed in the
small hours of the morning amid smoke, laughter and the flow of
bourbon. The new and highly recommendable novel by Luis Gutiérrez Maluenda tells us about that agitated tormented
world which awoke to read in the papers of political scandals and
mafia attacks and turned in after listening to the jazz masters in
clubs or reading the ‘hardboiled' detectives' latest adventure in
the fashionable ‘pulps'.
The book's plot begins when Duke Ellington
hires the services of Mike Vinowsky, a third-rate private investigator,
to threaten a guy who is extorting money from Billy Strayhorn,
the legendary Duke's composer, arranger and habitual collaborator.
The detective – who,
in the tradition of the genre's protagonists, appears as an ambiguous
character able to stroll along the narrow margin of legality, combining
cynicism and honesty – accepts the case, confident as to its apparent
simplicity, impressed by the considerable sum of money offered by
Ellington and motivated by needing to free from blackmail the composer
of his favourite jazz number Take the A Train. The good
signs start to fade when the blackmailer is found dead in strange
circumstances hours after meeting Vinowsky, who is suspected by the
police and so finds himself forced to clear up the case to demonstrate
his own innocence and thereby ensure his freedom. In his continual
search for truth the investigator becomes involved in a shady corruption
case that leaves in its wake a long string of bodies and links the
haunts of the New York slums with the offices of those representing
the city's upper circles. This constant round allows Vinowsky to
have a critical view of US society in the 1930s, showing that moral
corruption is scarcely an observer of social classes and that the
mansions of the powerful may be places that are as shadowy as the
alleys of Harlem. The vision of reality is broadened by the clever
inclusion in the novel of fragments and summaries of newspaper items
of the period.
Like Walter Mosley's or James Ellroy's
books, Música
para los muertos manages to pay homage, in an interesting
mannerist exercise, to the classics of the crime novel and update
the narrative world that elevated Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler
or Ross McDonald into the legendary class. The tone of the genre's
legendary tales appears as intensely and constantly in the book
as does jazz, which is present via the use as fictional characters
of great masters such as Ellington or Strayhorn, the fleeting appearance
of figures such as Lester Young, Charlie Parker or Dizzie Gillespie,
the recreation of some of the period's most emblematic clubs, the
use of jazz pieces as titles to all the chapters and the main character's
huge love of music.
With a well-drawn main character – who is
classical without tipping over into stereotype, contemporary without
losing the genre's marks of identity – and a varied range of secondary
characters, who are true to life and tremendously real, Música
para los muertos is
a magnificent novel, an entertaining and addictive read, ideal to
take in with the soothing sound of Duke Ellington's piano in the
background. And of course a good bourbon to hand.