Ian Rankin - an interview and profile

      He may be the number one selling crime writer in the UK, but here in the States, Ian Rankin remains woefully under the radar of most lovers of detective fiction. Perhaps Rankin's low profile -- despite laudatory articles in the New York Times and numerous awards -- is due in part to his checkered US publishing past: he's been with four publishers and his latest Inspector Rebus novel, "Resurrection Men," is just out from his fifth, Little, Brown. His paperback releases have been printed in eye-punishing tiny type sizes by St. Martin's and even those have been hard to find.
      Yet a more likely explanation might be that Rankin's dark, brooding Police Inspector Rebus isn't the most lovable cop to ever walk the gritty streets of alcohol-soaked Edinburgh. Rebus is a protagonist with complex professional and inner lives. And as Rankin said in a recent phone interview from his home in Edinburgh, "every case he's been involved with has left its mark on him. Guilt, ghosts from past investigations -- these are attributes he can't escape."
      Rankin wonders if his failure to make a big dent in the American market is in part due to his own style and approach to crime fiction. "Crime fiction has always concentrated on the machinery of plot at the cost of everything else. Everything is tied up neatly at the end, and life makes sense again. Protagonists don't change or even age between books! I didn't want to write that kind of book. You know, life is like a dance: people leave the dance floor and return with a different partner." In fact, the Rebus character emerged from Rankin when he began writing novels about Edinburgh when he was in a Ph.D. literature program. He found that writing about the life of a cop was a good way to look at the city.
      After 13 previous Rebus books, and a collection of short stories, longtime readers can observe numerous but realistic changes in the cranky copper. His drinking fluctuates from story to story, ranging from abstinence to flat out alcoholic stupors; his "love" life burns through relationships, though he's apt to be more obsessed with work than devote time to a lover. Long divorced, he has a daughter he wishes he were closer to, and his "family" life revolves around his colleagues at work. It's not just Rebus who changes and ages over time. Rankin is acutely conscious of "the secondary characters in the stories. I'm always interested in the dynamics of the supporting cast," he says. And quite a cast it is: from the earnest and loyal Siobhan Clarke to the commanding patriarchal superintendent known as "the Farmer," Rankin's cop shop has always been a volatile mix of shady and brutal officers and dedicated, whisky-loving professionals.
      As readers, we seldom get much in the way of physical description - even of Rebus, and Rankin admits this is intentional - "I keep it as vague as I can so readers can paint their own picture." He even refuses to listen to the BBC radio plays which have been produced of several books, because "I don't want all those voices in my head." And he has only watched one of the four TV movies made -- "they made Rebus much too young and glamorous looking."
      "Resurrection Men" is certainly as good a place to begin a Rankin/Rebus odyssey as any, but tracking down some of the earlier ones is well worth the effort. A particular favorite of mine is 1997's "Black and Blue", wherein Rankin masterfully weaves three strands of an intricate story into a devastating finale. But any of them stand alone as fine reads, and once the reader absorbs the high count of Scottish slang and colloquialisms, Rankin's gift for beautifully nuanced and always fresh characterization makes for a demanding but truly rewarding reading experience.