Dead Water, the fifth in Ann Cleeves’ Shetland series, is one of four of the novels that was adapted for television, but page and screen diverge so much that they don’t even really follow a common plot. I’ll never criticise the TV show and the creative decisions to change are completely understandable but the novel delivers far beyond its police procedural brief.
The original Shetland novels were designed as a quartet roughly based on the seasons, and the ending of Blue Lightning sees the murder of Perez’s fiancée, Fran. Dead Water is the first of a second quartet which seems to focus on elements and on disruption. Things are slightly out of control.
We saw in previous novels how timelessness and traditions based on natural seasonal rhythms can shape communities but also cover them with a blanket whether one of comfort or of a more stifling design. This time there is change, caused again by natural but also by unnatural events. The islanders have to get to grips with a future beyond the end of oil. Will the old ways, which predated the oil boom and which could outlast it, return triumphantly? And what of our characters, buffeted by grief, anger and regret?
Perez is a bystander for much of the book. He is angry and bitter, at events and at himself. He is focused on Cassie and the nearest to normality he can find is working through custody rotas with Duncan. We spend more time in the minds of Rhona, the fiscal, Willow, a new character, and Sandy, and it’s interesting to get a sense of different perspectives on this case and on each other. Cleeves’ characters are very attuned to their relationships especially where power differentials are involved. So we’ll read about how Rhona doesn’t want to trust Sandy with any but the most basic of tasks, and we’ll read how Sandy feels about that. On one level this adds to the sense of atmosphere: Sandy in particular but also the other Shetlanders explain the rhythms of the culture of the islands, but it’s done without us feeling that it’s an exercise in exposition. I would like to know a little more of the characters’ thoughts that don’t relate to the case. They sometimes feel too serious in purpose and could do with being distracted by frivolous thoughts. Or perhaps the Shetlanders aren’t like that?
Cleeves and the TV producers agree that the first murder victim, Jerry Markham, was not a very nice fellow. He’d grown up in Shetland, got a local girl, Evie Watt, pregnant and then left to seek his fortune in London. Now Evie is marrying, but Jerry is keen to speak with her.
I think that the plot and the characters are more interesting in the book. Evie and her fiancé attempt to be people of faith and this is accepted on its own terms, because Cleeves is able to present three-dimensional characters. That said, Perez later observes that Jerry Markham’s recent religious conversion was to lead to two murders. The TV adaptation is more focused on fights about money and the perpetrator and their motivation is quite different – but as a result of this and the truncation into two hours of television – the characters seem far less unusual and interesting although they are played with care by a stellar cast.
This would be the last of the novels to be used by the TV producers, and I’m not too sorry that they went their separate ways. I continue to enjoy the TV series with its fine actors, but find the novels far more interested in exploring what makes Shetland tick.
Cafethinking coverage of other Shetland stories:
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