Marek Krajewski
makes good use of his professional training in linguistics and classics in Death in Breslau,
the first in a series of novels featuring police detective Eberhard Mock. In Death, Mock has to find a way to work
with Nazi officials as he tries to solve a bizarre double murder involving
scorpions, strange inscriptions written in blood, and a revenge plot stretching
back over seven centuries. The details of the complicated plot unfold gradually
and satisfyingly over the course of the novel and also involve an Oedipal subplot
that, remarkably, feels entirely unforced. But what really distinguishes this
novel is its atmosphere (Breslau and its inhabitants are some of its most
interesting characters) and its protagonist. Mock is well-named in the sense
that in many ways he makes a mockery of any notion of professional ethics or
honor. Although he is good at his job, he is best of all at protecting his own
interests, even if that means sacrificing others. And yet, there remains
something deeply appealing about his fatalism, something that is doubtless
thrown into sharp relief by the context of a Nazi-dominated Europe sliding
slowly into the horror of the World War II era. Given that context, the
self-serving decisions and compromises Mock makes seem less heinous by
comparison. For whatever reason, Mock’s survival feels like a kind of triumph,
even though it’s purchased at a high price.
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