Although The Dead of Jericho is the fifth novel in Colin Dexter's "Inspector Morse" series, published in 1981, it was interestingly the first one to be dramatised for television in 1986. The rest, as they say, is history. The characters of Morse and Lewis are now solidly defined and sparring against each other nicely. John Thaw made the role of Morse very much his own, and it must have been impossible for Dexter to forget Thaw's idiosyncratic depiction in subsequent novels, so that the TV adaptations would then feed into Colin Dexter's future ideas and portrayals. Dexter had been living in Oxford for a few years prior to writing these novels, and was never one to hide his personal views, referring in this one, for instance, to "the vandals who sit on the City's planning committees". But digressing apart, perhaps it is precisely because the two main characters have found their feet, that this was the first novel to be chosen. Certainly we see a much more human side to Morse in this novel. Typically he falls for a woman right at the beginning, but atypically she is murdered very early on too, and this leads Morse to some very reckless decisions and foolhardy actions. The reader is encouraged to sympathise with his predicament, and see his character as flawed, as Morse uses more and more unconventional methods to discover how Anne Scott met her death. Sometimes the action even approaches farce, as Morse behaves with less and less caution, even to the point of falling over dustbins whilst trying to gain unlawful access to a property, and making Detective Constable Walters increasingly puzzled, not to mention suspicious, as to the eccentric behaviour of his boss.False leads abound, as usual. Several husbands and/or fathers seem to be absent or dead, with circumstances left vague. Did Anne's husband Michael really have a fatal accident in his car? How exactly did the father of two of her pupils, Michael and Ted Murdoch die? Why did the older brother Michael nearly put out his eyes? What of the other two brothers, Charles and Conrad Richards? Was Conrad having an affair with Charles' wife, Celia, or was that past history? What about George Jackson, the nosy neighbour with binoculars across the road from Anne. Was he just a peeping Tom or maybe also a blackmailer and/or murderer? And what of all the bridge-playing set, none of whom seemed very upset at the murder of one of their own - except that they were then a player down?Feed into this satisfying jigsaw puzzle a subplot directly echoing Sophocles, and you have a rich conundrum. Morse explains to Lewis the story of Oedipus, who unknowingly murdered his father Laius and married his own mother Jocasta. Strangely, they agree that the events seem uncannily to mirror the story. But Lewis is puzzled. Surely his boss is not advocating superstition; a kind of predetermination of events? And Morse puts his mind at rest. It was just an idea, a quirky coincidence, partly brought to mind by Anne's predilection for Ancient Greek Tragedies. Lewis and Morse have developed a mutual admiration for each other in this novel. Lewis admires his boss' flair and intelligence; his talent for inspired guesswork. In one episode where Morse is behaving in an unbearable way towards Lewis, Lewis reflects that, "he had often seen Morse in this mood before, snappy and irritable. It usually meant the chief was cross with himself about something; usually, too, it meant that it wasn't going to be long before his mind leaped prodigiously into the dark and hit, as often as not, upon some strange and startling truth."Morse in his turn, values Lewis' tenacity and dedication to the job. "The man was so wholesome, somehow: honest, unpretentious, humble, almost, in his acceptance of psychology and life. A lovable man; a good man." And he is quick to give credit where credit is due, "You are a bloody genius, my son!" he tells an uncomprehending Lewis, thereby encouraging the reader to chuckle at the slow-wittedness of both characters, in certain situations.Yet Morse does not suffer fools gladly. The relationship between him and the pathologist Max is brought out for the first time in this novel. Morse, we are told, has a "profound contempt for the timid twaddle of pathologists". Yet he has a grudging respect for Max, who is more of a friend, and the two engage in light banter and bets. We learn too that Morse "had never quite forgiven his parents for christening their only offspring as they had", although all we know at this stage is that his initials are E.M. We learn too that Lewis left school at 15, and dragged himself through various adult classes at technical college until he could enter the police force. He is not afraid of hard graft.So now we have the two characters nicely polarised; grumpy Morse and industrious methodical Lewis. Morse, who always seems to get out of paying for his round at the pub. Morse, who prides himself on his speed at completing crosswords. (There is rather a nice episode where Morse is doing "The Times" Crossword in one room, whereas further down the corridor at the same time, Lewis is completing a far easier puzzle.) And we have a voyeuristic enjoyment from watching the sparks fly between these two.Dexter has again structured this novel into four "books", and the chapters within each are preceded by a quotation - usually a literary one. This is an engaging device. Also becoming a regular feature is the secondary murder, partway through the book. Yet again, the plot has a satisfying twist right at the end. However, reading the books in chronological order, the same plot device is used here as was used in the previous book, "Service of All the Dead" (that of substitution, in order to provide a seemingly infallible alibi.) Nevertheless, I did not guess the substitution myself; it came as a surprise. The red herring Greek "subplot" was fiendishly clever, and the whole novel was a very entertaining read.
The ancient university city of Oxford, England, is not all spires, churches, and medieval colleges. The lower middle class live in less resplendent areas like Jericho, a small neighbourhood of mean streets and decaying homes between the canal and railway on one side and the massive complex of the Radcliffe Hospital and Oxford University Press on the other. At a otherwise boring cocktail party, Detective Chief Inspector Morse of the Thames Valley Police meets the fetching Anne Scott, a resident of Jericho. Time passes during which Morse thinks of Miss Scott as a potential romantic opportunity, but he neglects to call until a chance passage through the area brings him to her door. The door is unlocked and Morse goes in finding no one home. A short time later, Inspector Bell is called out on a case--to that same front door. Anne Scott is dead inside, an apparent suicide. Learning of her death, Morse thinks of what might have been if he'd only visited days or even minutes earlier and if he had explored the house further. Instead, he offers uncanny insights to Bell and Constable Walters into the case based on his observations as a visitor. Morse is dreadfully disheartened over Anne Scott's suicide and part of his intuition won't accept it.Canvassing the neighbours proves nothing to the police although it dredges up some odd characters and habits. To Constable Walters, Morse and his insights are more of a mystery than the woman's death. Morse's arrogance and eccentricities are legendary amongst other coppers, but Walters has never encountered him before. Bell and Walters--with some hints from Morse--find that the local handyman had a key to Miss Scott's, that she tutored students in German, that she had attended bridge club occasionally, and that she had previously worked for a small publishing firm run by a pair of brothers. Meanwhile (there are always a number of 'meanwhiles' in the Morse mysteries of Colin Dexter), a blackmailer is trying to extort one of the publishing brothers and two teenagers are hospitalized with drug overdoses, a type of crime becoming much too common in Oxford. Walters continues diligently pursuing the case but keeps tripping over Morse who is investigating on his own.All the story needs to pull these disparate pieces together is for Morse to be in charge of the case. The Assistant Chief Commissioner recognizes that the case needs superior deductive skills; Bell receives a sideways promotion, Walters has family matters requiring his attention, and Morse inherits the case along with his own secret weapon, Sergeant Lewis, whose common sense and straightforward plodding is the perfect compliment--as always--to Morse's intuition. Morse is awarded the case just in time for the second death--this time it is certainly a murder. With the case now fully under his control, the details are failing to fall into place. The likely suspects have convincing alibis, but the alibis keep shifting. The two sets of brothers--the teenagers and the publishers--have secret lives and shifting excuses. And the women comprising the bridge club as well as the wife of one of the publishing brothers are somehow keys to the death of Anne Scott and the murder that followed. But how exactly?The murder victim has a curious trail of income, and Miss Scott's library of literary classics is crucial to understanding her character and motivation. Morse and Lewis follow the money, and Morse digs into his own history as a student of 'greats' (that is, classical Latin and Greek language, philosophy, and writing) to develop a theory regarding Miss Scott's motivation. Finally, the adoption of a baby by another couple provides the missing link in the suicide and the murder. Morse and Lewis solve the case again; but this is the only certainty the reader has when beginning a Colin Dexter masterpiece. Whilst that word may sound excessive, Dexter is a master of literary suspense, complex plots, and delightful character development. Not only is Morse aggravatingly fascinating and Lewis a contrasting delight, but many of the lesser characters are developed to such extreme in so few words that they also linger in the memory long after the story ends. The streets of Jericho give a very different picture of Oxford, but Dexter's Oxford is always a prime character in the Morse mysteries. This story, like all the others, is a savory treat.
What do You think about The Dead Of Jericho (1996)?
3.5 starsThis is the fifth book of the series. Anne Scott is found dead in Canal Street, Jericho. It’s initially not really Inspector Morse's case, but he is indirectly involved because he happens to have visited the scene of death. Morse having met Anne at a party, after lot of deliberation Morse decides to drop in on her – but walked into an apparently empty house. He returns again to Canal Street following the discovery of Anne’s suicide and starts poking around looking for answers. Canal Street has its share of characters for residents & visitors all carrying their own secrets. There is more tragedy at Canal Street with drugs and more death. Is that linked to Anne’s suicide? Did Anne really commit suicide? What is happening with the Murdoch boys? Morse is handed the case and he has Lewis to assist him – to get to the bottom of it all. I have been reading the series in order and this book was an easy read again. Morse is more mature than in the previous books, more dignified but just as grumpy. Lewis is still the stable head among the two. There was more of bonding between them and was good to see Morse admit his need for Lewis! As usual, there are red herrings in the plot and you can anticipate some twists, though not exactly what uncover the entire plot. I was so glad his initial theory turned out to be a dud, am sure wouldn’t have liked the book with that plot.
—Poornima
I have enjoyed "Detective Morse" TV shows for years. Noticing that the episodes were inspired by characters created by Colin Dexter, I looked into Colin's work. What I got my hands on first was an Oxford Bookworm reader. I haven't seen on e of these since grade school (I schooled in England). The 102 page story read more like a screenplay sketch or an idea for a play. There was a list of the characters and who they are, listed before you start chapter one.The writing style is a bit stilted and many techniques used today for a quality read were absent here. (First published in 1981.) There are MANY characters, and at times they can become confusing as to who was where, when. However, the twists and turns in such a short tale make this a remarkable work of art. I was surprised in the end, though I was sure I knew whodunit. I will definitely be putting aside my writerly prejudices, and hunt down more of Colin Dexter's gems. Just goes to show - write a good story and the rest doesn't matter.
—Alex Kent
Probabilmente, avendone già letto qualcuno, è naturale aspettarsi dai gialli di Dexter un colpo di scena dietro l'altro e un finale a sorpresa, ma questa volta si rischia di rimanere leggermente insoddisfatti. Morse prende lucciole per lanterne come di consueto, ma nel fattaccio di Jericho la verità si svela dopo poche pagine e non è che cambi granchè, rispetto alle sbagliate supposizioni iniziali. Che sia stato l'uno o l'altro a compiere i delitti poco importa, sempre di quei due o tre si tratta e lo si capisce fin da subito. C'è un po' poco intrico, il torbido è al minimo e "il tenebroso dramma dell'umanità" della quarta di copertina alla fine non c'entra proprio niente. Mancano anche personaggi di spessore e persino la protagonista cadavere è a malapena abbozzata - Morse, poi, beve e basta. Sembra scritto apposta per diventare un telefilm, cosa che è puntualmente successa poco dopo con la bbc. Nota positiva: le note a inizio capitolo. Sono azzeccatissime, prese dalle fonti più disparate e virano anche verso l'ironico. Complimenti per la cultura di chi le ha scelte.
—Sara
