Andrew Klavan’s After That, The Dark: The Best Cameron Winter Book Yet

After That, The Dark is the fifth novel in Andrew Klavan’s Cameron Winter series, and it is the best one so far. Cameron Winter is a very interesting character who has shown more and more depth to his personality as the series has progressed. He is a former “black ops” agent who is still intensely loyal to his former commander, the Recruiter. However, the Recruiter has had to go underground, due to political pressure that has been fomented by the ultra-wealthy tech mogul, Thaddeus Blatt. For the first time, there are cracks in Winter’s unquestioning trust in the one person who gave his life meaning.

Winter is currently employed as a professor of English Romantic poetry at a small college outside of Washington, D.C., but he manages to get embroiled in various murders that seem open and shut cases until he starts asking uncomfortable questions. In After That, The Dark, the murder in question is brought up by Gwendolyn Lord, a therapist he met in the third book, The House of Love and Death. He was immediately attracted to her, but it took him quite a while to screw up the courage to ask her out. While they are on their first date, she mentions an “impossible murder” that her friend in Tulsa, OK told her about. 

Owen McKay was a loving and devoted husband who suddenly snapped and went crazy, killing his wife and year-old son. When he is arrested, he is put in a holding cell and before the jail psychiatrist can evaluate him, he is found dead, shot through the heart. No one is on video as having visited him in the cell. 

Winter’s curiosity is piqued, and he decides to fly out to Tulsa and investigate. Everyone he talks to who were involved in the case have been terrorized into silence, and he can’t get anywhere with them. Finally, the doctor who performed the autopsy agrees to meet Cameron, and he tells him that he found some kind of device with wires embedded in McKay’s brain. However, the final report has scrubbed all of his notes about it. 

When Winter returns, a very creepy tattooed man is waiting for him in his apartment and nearly kills him. He is obviously getting close to something big. Then, he reads about another murder that happened in Connecticut that has eerie similarities to murders McKay committed. When he goes up there to investigate, it’s clear the murders are connected. 

And so, Cameron Winter finds himself neck-deep in a conspiracy involving the highest levels of the federal government, an unscrupulous tech company, and an amoral venture capitalist. He’s also under constant threat from the mysterious Tat Man.

To leaven the darkness, Klavan develops the relationship between Gwendolyn and Cameron. She is a devout Christian, and he is, at best, an agnostic. And yet, he has respect for her faith, and a small gift she gives him ends up saving his life. They fall in love with each other while feeling as if they were destined to do so from the beginning of time. 

I also enjoyed Klavan’s lampooning of faculty politics. Lori Lesser is the woke administrator who has it in for Winter, because he insists on teaching only classic poetry and not including subpar literature produced by minority authors. Besides, how many people of color have written English Romantic poetry? There is a very funny scene where Cameron and Lori are meeting with the dean in his office, and Cameron has trouble focusing on Lori’s jargon-laden arguments:

What was she saying? Winter sometimes wondered as the meeting dragged on. But too late: He had lost track of it and was too distracted to catch up. It had something to do with racialism and historic injustices and the systemic metaphorical violence of favoring the poetry of John Keats over whatever blithering doggerel had been scrawled by lesser and justly forgotten versifiers of some oppressed minority or other. So he assumed, anyway, because Lori was always talking about such things, and because some of her catchphrases seemed to leap out at him as if made momentarily visible in the office air.

Klavan, Andrew. After That, the Dark (Cameron Winter Mysteries Book 5) (p. 238). Penzler Publishers. Kindle Edition.

After That, The Dark is a turning point in Winter’s development. His long-time therapist (who has a bit of a crush on him, despite being much older) realizes that his crisis is behind him, and he is becoming comfortable in his own skin. Comfortable enough to risk being vulnerable with Gwendolyn. His relationship with the Recruiter has also matured, to the point where Winter no longer carries out his directives unquestioningly. It will be fascinating to see how an fully integrated and confident Cameron Winter handles his next case!

Andrew Klavan’s The Kingdom of Cain: How Can Murder Inspire Great Art?

Andrew Klavan is one of the most intelligent and thought-provoking cultural critics working today. It doesn’t hurt that he’s also an excellent mystery writer. His Cameron Winter series of novels has given me hours of great enjoyment, and he’s just getting started with it.

Besides mysteries, Klavan also writes nonfiction, including the bestselling The Truth and Beauty, where he discusses how nineteenth century romantic poetry reflects eternal Truths. His latest book, The Kingdom of Cain, is subtitled Finding God in the Literature of Darkness, and he isn’t kidding when he says Literature of Darkness! He focuses on three horrific and infamous crimes, and then he describes how each one led to extraordinarily beautiful and inspirational works of art. So how can the terrible crime of murder lead to great art? As he puts it in the Introduction,

The opposite of murder is creation – creation, which is the telos of love. And because art, true art, is an act of creation, it always transforms its subject into itself, even if the subject is murder. An act of darkness is not the same thing as a work of art about an act of darkness. The murders in Shakespeare’s Macbeth are horrific, but they are a beautiful part of the play. (p. 17)

The first murder Klavan chronicles is one committed in nineteenth century Paris by Pierre Francois Lacenaire and Victor Avril. They suspected another criminal, the blackmailer and con man Jean-Francois Chardon, of hoarding a large amount of money in his apartment. They strangled and stabbed him, then they stabbed Chardon’s bedridden mother to death. It turned out there was almost no money in the apartment.

Even though it was a terrible crime, Lacenaire captured the imagination of Parisian elites – “He was handsome, sophisticated, literate. A journalist, a published poet.” (p. 29). He justified his actions by saying he was rebelling against an unjust system. (Any resemblance to the swooning reaction of many people to the murderer Luigi Mangione is purely coincidental!)

Lacenaire’s crime was so well known that the Russian writer, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, based one of his greatest novels on it, Crime and Punishment. In that tale, a poor student, Rodion Raskolnikov, decides to kill an old woman for the money he supposes she is hiding. When he kills her with an axe, her developmentally delayed sister runs into the room, and he kills her as well. Instead of feeling that his crime was justified, however, Raskolnikov is wracked by guilt. He comes to realize that there is a moral order that he has violated, and no amount of rationalization can assuage his anguish.

The next crime Klavan delves into is the 1924 Leopold and Loeb murder. These two young men read the works of Nietszche and decided they were the ubermensch Nietszche predicted must rise up in the aftermath of the death of God. They planned what they thought was the perfect crime, and they kidnapped and brutally killed a young boy, Bobby Franks. However, while they were disposing of the body, Leopold left his glasses in the woods. The police were able to trace them to Leopold, who confessed and implicated Loeb.

Their trial was a media sensation, and through the brilliant efforts of their defense attorney, Clarence Darrow, they were able to avoid capital punishment. This murder inspired the hit British play, Rope, which was adapted to film by Alfred Hitchcock in 1948.

Klavan makes the case that beginning with the Marquis de Sade, continuing with Nietszche, and culminating with Michel Foucault in the twentieth century, a denial of God and the resulting denial of any moral order inevitably leads to murder and other atrocities:

But Foucault understood – what Nietszche understood, what the Marquis de Sade understood – that without belief in God, a loving God, and essentially Christian God who appeared in the world as the least among us, moral systems, all human systems, are based on the will to power, which is the will to survival, pleasure, and life. In order to overcome Christianity’s false moral constructs and find true life, authentic life, even in some sense a truly moral life, all social constructs had to be destroyed. (p. 75)

The third crime Klavan documents are the serial murders in 1950s rural Wisconsin of Ed Gein. He was discovered to have kidnapped, tortured, and killed many women. He made furniture out of their body parts, and wore their skins as a suit. Obviously, his horrible crimes led to movies like Hitchcock’s Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and The Silence of the Lambs. Klavan makes an interesting point here: in Psycho, a psychoanalyst is used to provide a rational explanation for Norman Bates’ behavior. By the time The Silence of the Lambs is filmed, the psychoanalyst himself is the murderer!

Klavan then devotes a chapter to the archetypical murder: when Cain killed Abel. He explores five themes that this story incorporates:

  1. The Knowledge of Good and Evil
  2. Sex and Sin
  3. The Battle of Brothers
  4. Murder as Suicide
  5. Sacrifice

In his discussion of the knowledge of good and evil, Klavan makes a beautiful observation:

Eternity is not a long time, it is all time, and it is impossible for mortal man to imagine. In eternity, for instance, you may not be reconnected to your lost loved ones, you may find you never lost them at all. In eternity, you may not find that God makes good out of evil, you may find that it was always good, you simply did not see it complete.

Because of this, the knowledge of good and evil is a curse to man, not a gift, because he sees it in time where it makes no sense. in his ignorance, all he knows is the injustice of the moment. His only possible response is anger and bitterness and despair, and, finally, murder. (p. 140)

The last part of of the book involves Klavan’s philosophy of The Practice of Creation – what is necessary to bring forth truly great art. The final chapter is a marvelous tour of the history of Western art, beginning with the ancient Greek statuary of the Acropolis, continuing through Byzantine and Renaissance depictions of Madonna and child, to the Cubist deconstruction of the human form by Picasso, and ending with a wonderful tribute to, in Klavan’s words, “the most beautiful object that a man has ever made with his mind and hands”, Michelangelo’s Madonna Della Pieta.

The Kingdom of Cain is a unique and well thought out argument for the importance of art that reflects a higher moral order. No matter how gruesome the crime, it only serves to illustrate how lost we are without it.

2024: A Year of Reading In Review

2024 Books

Twelve months ago, when I made a resolution to write a brief review of every book I read in 2024, I didn’t think I would keep it. However, I managed to write something about each book, and it has been really rewarding. Reviewing a book made me organize my thoughts about it and helped me realize themes and other aspects of it that I wouldn’t have otherwise bothered to consider. I managed to read 61 books this year, including some pretty hefty tomes – War and PeaceAnna Karenina, Churchill’s Marlborough I and Neal Stephenson’s Fall.

What are some highlights? Discovering the weird Christian fantasy of Charles Williams was definitely one. Rediscovering the majesty and beauty Tolstoy’s War and Peace and Anna Karenina was another. For sheer reading pleasure, Simon Fairfax’s A Knight and a Spy series was hard to beat. I also learned a lot of English history reading them!

Jim Geraghty’s Dueling Six Demons took one of my favorite action series and really upped the game. I can’t wait for the next installment. Likewise, Andrew Klavan’s A Woman Underground was a terrific and pivotal entry in his Cameron Winter series. Finally, I enjoyed discovering the classic British mystery writer Ngaio Marsh and her Inspector Alleyn character. Since there are over 30 titles featuring the witty and urbane inspector, I have many hours of reading pleasure to look forward to.

Some duds include early John Wyndham (it took a few titles for him to hit his stride), a couple of Edgar Wallace thrillers (very dated with unsympathetic characters), and Neal Stephenson’s Fall was the first book of his that I felt was far too long and dragged in places. 

As a teacher of high school students, I found Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation and Abigail Shrier’s Bad Therapy very insightful and eye-opening.

In order to have a handy guide to what I read, here’s a list with links to all of my reviews of 2024:

  1. Budd Schulberg: What Makes Sammy Run?
  2. David Grann: The Wager
  3. P. G. Wodehouse: The Small Bachelor
  4. William Faulkner: The Sound and the Fury
  5. Kurt Schlichter: The Attack
  6. William Campbell Gault: Golden Age of Science Fiction Megapack
  7. Charles Williams: War In Heaven
  8. Alfred, Lord Tennyson: In Memoriam
  9. David Berlinski: A Tour of the Calculus
  10. Ernest Hemingway: The Sun Also Rises
  11. M. R. James: Ghost Stories
  12. Lesley Blume: Everybody Behaves Badly
  13. V. E. Schwab: A Darker Shade of Magic
  14. Various Authors: Classic Fantasy Stories
  15. Neal Stephenson: Fall
  16. P. G. Wodehouse: Uncle Fred In The Springtime
  17. Jonathan Haidt: The Anxious Generation
  18. Winston Churchill: Marlborough I
  19. John Wyndham: Foul Play Suspected
  20. Charles Williams: Many Dimensions
  21. Ben Jonson: Volpone
  22. Ken Follett: Never
  23. John Wyndham: Planet Plane
  24. Simon Fairfax: 1410
  25. Abigail Shrier: Bad Therapy
  26. Jules Verne: A Floating City
  27. Simon Fairfax: 1411
  28. Charles Williams: The Place Of The Lion
  29. John Bude: The Cornish Coast Murder
  30. Jim Geraghty: Dueling Six Demons
  31. John Bude: The Lake District Murder
  32. Simon Fairfax: 1412
  33. Edgar Wallace: The Four Just Men
  34. John Bude: The Sussex Downs Murder
  35. Edgar Wallace: The Council of Justice
  36. Simon Fairfax: 1413
  37. Leo Tolstoy: War and Peace
  38. Charles Williams: The Greater Trumps
  39. Simon Fairfax: 1414
  40. John Bude: The Cheltenham Square Murder
  41. Megan Basham: Shepherds For Sale
  42. P. G. Wodehouse: Full Moon
  43. Simon Fairfax: 1415
  44. Ray Bradbury: Science Fiction Megapack
  45. Ngaio Marsh: A Man Lay Dead
  46. Ivan Turgenev: Fathers and Sons
  47. Richard Evans: Listening To The Music The Machine Makes
  48. Julian Barnes: Levels of Life
  49. Ngaio Marsh: Enter A Murderer
  50. Charles Williams: Shadows Of Ecstasy
  51. Andrew Klavan: A Woman Underground
  52. Christine Rosen: The Extinction of Experience
  53. Leo Tolstoy: Anna Karenina
  54. Rod Dreher: Living In Wonder
  55. Simon Fairfax: The Cardinal’s Sword
  56. Ngaio Marsh: The Nursing Home Murder
  57. Catherine Salton: Raphael and the Noble Task
  58. Christopher Morley: Parnassus On Wheels
  59. Christopher Morley: The Haunted Bookshop
  60. Charles Williams: Descent Into Hell
  61. Robin Wilson: Lewis Carroll in Numberland

Thanks for reading, and I hope you’ve found my reviews worthwhile. Happy New Year – may 2025 be a good one for you!

Andrew Klavan’s A Woman Underground

Woman Underground

Book number 51 of 2024

Andrew Klavan is one of my favorite writers and thinkers. He has written many mysteries, thrillers, and some very good nonfiction, as well as producing a weekly podcast on politics and culture. A Woman Underground is the fourth book in his Cameron Winter series, which just gets better and better with each installment.

Winter is a wonderfully deep and complex character – a professor of Romantic literature at a small midwestern college, he was an especially deadly counterintelligence assassin for some very dark and secret missions earlier in his life. Every novel in the series has flashbacks to Winter’s career as a deadly assassin, as he relates them to his therapist – a kindly, older woman who is very much attracted to him. Winter is incapable of maintaining any kind of relationship, because his parents, wealthy New Yorkers, had neither the time nor the inclination to care for him.

His nanny was a refugee from East Germany, and he never got over his childhood crush of her niece, Charlotte Shaefer. His unrequited love has served as an excuse to avoid any intimacy in his adult life. He is a deeply troubled man with a code of honor he tries to live by, even though he is not at all religious. Think of a Raymond Chandler character dropped into the 21st century.

A Woman Underground begins with Part 1: The Scent of Something Gone, Winter realizes that Charlotte may be trying to get in touch with him. One evening he comes home to his apartment and smells the lingering scent of her perfume in the hall. The next morning, he studies the building’s security video, and he sees a bundled up woman carrying a book. The book turns out to be a novel that is popular with right-wing extremists, and it features a heroine who is too similar to Charlotte to be a coincidence. Winter quickly tracks down the author. To avoid any spoilers, I won’t reveal any more details!

Klavan does a masterful job of balancing four(!) separate stories while keeping the reader glued to the page. First, there is the main plotline of Winter tracking down Charlotte. Then, there is a plotline involving an old mission Winter was assigned to bring back an agent who had disappeared in Turkey. When Winter is in therapy, he keeps returning to this story, even though his therapist knows he’s doing it to avoid facing what’s really causing his psychological distress. Third, there’s the plotline of the novel Charlotte was carrying when she tried to see Winter. In it, a small group of right-wingers try to decide what to do during the riots that caused so unrest and destruction in the summer of 2020. Cameron is reading this novel to try to pick up clues as to where Charlotte might be. The fourth subplot is some sexual shenanigans Winter’s colleague at the college gets himself into. Believe it or not, all four of these stories slowly come together into one.

A Woman Underground is a pivotal chapter in Cameron Winter’s development. Several things that had stunted his emotional and psychological maturity are dealt with and resolved. The path to that resolution, however, is a harrowing one. As Klavan describes him, he spends most of the book on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It is only through his therapist’s insightful and compassionate work that he is able to come out whole. By the end, it’s clear that Winter has emerged battered, but stronger and more resilient. I can’t wait to see what Andrew Klavan has in store for him. Bubbling under the surface of the various subplots is a potential global conspiracy that involves extremely powerful Americans who have been compromised. It’s enough to turn the most level-headed person into a paranoid lunatic, and the people Winter can completely trust are down to very few. Things are getting very interesting in Cameron Winter’s life!