On the Subject of Kathy Reichs

Anyone with whom I have had a conversation in the last month or so will have been subjected to a rant about the collected works of Kathy Reichs. For those who have been saved from this, Dr Kathy Reichs writes a series of forensic-thriller novels based loosely on her own work as Forensic Anthropologist for the Medical Examiner in Charlotte, North Carolina and at the Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de médecine légale in Montreal. As a result of her professional involvement, Dr Reichs has a unique way of describing a crime scene, a pedantic attitude to procedure and in-depth reasons as to why a particular set of bones leads to a conclusion. So far, so good. So good in fact that the TV series ‘Bones’ is based on the same premise with the same protagonist, Dr Temperance ‘Tempe’ Brennan, who I’m reliably informed spends some time in the series writing novels about a Kathy Reichs, also a forensic anthropologist. This should ring alarm bells, as Dr Reichs was a consultant on ‘Bones’ and it speaks to her sense of humour.

The books are quite good in the sense that the plots are usually reasonably interesting and I’ve learnt a good amount about the inner workings of a forensic lab. Occasionally, however, Tempe goes on an info dump à la Victor Hugo on something only tangentially related to the plot and of which an adult professional scientist really should have a vague working knowledge. For example, in the most recent book I read, number 15 in the series “Bones are Forever”, we were educated on racial profiling using DNA sequencing methods, the history of gold mining in the Northwestern Territories, the history of the DeBeers corporation in Canada and elsewhere, how the Royal Canadian Mounted Police works, how mineral rights in the Northwestern Territories work, and how CT scanners work. That doesn’t even include the bits about her own specialist subject, the recovery and identification of bones. Around the visceral descriptions of the no fewer than four dead neonates hidden about a house, it’s a massive mental shift.

As the books have transitioned from the late 90s to the smartphone era, this has got worse, as now Dr Brennan and her police officer friend and ex-lover (long story, read the books) Lt. Det. Andrew Ryan can come up with random information they’ve gained from Google, as opposed to having to go to a library, have the inevitable argument with the librarian because Tempe’s phone goes off and still miss the salient point which keeps the plot plodding along. Why is Dr Brennan doing this research, you may wonder. Somehow she spends more time making stupid decisions doing policework she’s not qualified for than actually spending any time in the office. Between that and the number of occasions that she has been accused of professional malpractice, which makes Tempe angry, it’s a wonder that anyone would employ her.

There’s also the ridiculous coincidences. Tempe is investigating a cult. At the same time, Tempe’s sister is up from Texas because she has joined what turns out to be the cult in question. In the next book, Tempe’s nephew comes to stay in Montreal as Tempe investigates biker gangs, and it turns out he really wants to be a biker. I can’t remember exactly what happens in the first book, but it includes the murder of one of Tempe’s friends entirely coincidentally. She has been buried alive three times, and driven into the sea once in the last four books.

Despite all of this, I’m stuck on the series. It helps that quite a few of the audiobooks are available for free from the library. I haven’t ‘read’ a few of the books because the audiobooks don’t seem to exist and I don’t have the patience to get through a book when I can’t be doing something else as well. The occasional sparks of genius and reasonable characterisation make the whole experience somewhat worth the irritating stupidity.