A Snowball in Hell by Christopher Brookmyre

A Snowball in Hell Reviews

• 
  Trevor

  There is part of me that would like to savour a Brookmyre novel. You know, spend some time reading it and take in all of the clever bits of writing and just enjoy the twists and turns. The problem is the breathing thing – after about the fifth page I realise I haven’t been quite doing enough of that breathing thing that humans tend to need to do rather frequently. That means I end up needing to read his novels (at least with the very best of them – of which this is one) fast. I need to read them as if before having boiled the kettle, jingled the tea-bag, gotten myself comfortable to turn the first page I’ve snorted a nose full of coke.
  
  Not that I’ve actually ever used cocaine, but if what they tell me is true, I guess Brookmyre has much the same effect.
  
  NO SPOILERS
  
  That’s the key to this review. If you want to find out about this book I suggest you read all three of the books that this one is the last bit of – the Angelique de Xavia trilogy (at least, so far). The other two being in order:
  A Big Boy Did It and Ran Away and
  The Sacred Art of Stealing. Part of me wishes I’d re-read the pair of them before starting this one – as there were references throughout that only just ever so dimly registered – but it was not totally necessary. Anyway, I’ve already told you about my Brookmyre problem, so delaying the pleasure of reading this one by re-reading the two previous books was never going to be an option.
  
  I love Angelique de Xavia. She appeals to the outcast in me. I think I like her more than Jack Parlabane and at least as much as that woman from
  All Fun and Games Until Somebody Loses an Eye who must be due another book soon. And my favourite thing about her is reprised here – that she is a black Catholic Glasgow girl who is a Rangers supporter. (The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say)
  
  When I was in high school, I must have been about twelve, I had to write a book review on a book of my choice. My chosen book was Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Niggers, which is now called
  And Then There Were None and in the film the poem that is central to the story became Ten Little Indians – racism against Native Americans somehow seeming less obnoxious than racism against Black Americans.
  
  I wrote in my essay that the problem I had with Mystery Stories was that the author always keeps something back, the vital piece of information, and that is the bit of information that matters the most. My English teacher – smug bitch that she was – wrote something dismissive beside this comment, something to the effect that this, after all, is the point of a mystery story. Yes, yes, touché. But I intended something much more than my fumbling pen at the time achieved. That story was, if I can remember at all correctly (and I haven’t read it since I was twelve), written in omniscient narration. You know what I mean? The word ‘omniscient’ means ‘Knows everything’. Well, if the narrator knows everything, where is there room for any mystery? It is hard not to feel cheated by the little facts conveniently left unsaid.
  
  We read this novel from behind the eyes of about three of the characters in turn. The fact we don’t know what is going to happen next is either because the characters themselves don’t know or because they aren’t prepared to tell us, and they are more than happy to let us know that it is none of our business when they decide not to tell us.
  
  Best of all is that Brookmyre sets up a series of things that we know have to happen in this book. You know the sorts of things – boy must get girl, those needing to be rescued need to be rescued, good needs to prevail; all that sort of thing. But given we know all of these things must happen in no way makes the impossibility of any of them seeming to be able to happen ever at all less likely during the book. This guy knows how to plot a story. This guy grabs you by the sleeve and drags you to the end of the book and doesn’t care how many door-frames and interior walls you bounce off as he quickens his pace. It is a matter of keeping up or getting hurt – so you’d better keep up. Fortunately, he is always in control.
  
  If you ever want to write a book like this here are a few pointers I’ve picked up mostly from Mr Brookmyre. First, don’t build to a climax – splash in boots and all. You should have your audience by the throat from as early as you can, page one if you can manage it. If, in this book, you can stop reading after page 15 (I’m serious, I’ve just checked) then this book won’t appeal to you at all and you might as well stop reading. Follow the first climax with another, involving someone completely different. Make incredibly nasty things happen to your nicest characters. Give them gaols and hopes and desires and then piss all over them. Make every single character count. Every thread needs to weave into the tapestry. If you create a question in the book, make sure of two things, the question is answered in a way that your reader would not be able to guess beforehand – the answer is better than the reader would have guessed before hand. Only take your foot off the accelerator pedal to shift into a gear that allows you to add more speed.
  
  The thing is that I knew he was going to have me twisting and turning throughout this book, I even knew where this all had to end up – but even knowing both of these things I was still guessing the whole way through and never once did I feel cheated and never once did I know where he was going to twist me.
  
  This book is about punishing people that I normally would rejoice in seeing brought low, humiliated, and shown to be hypocrites. But Brookmyre even turns this into an interesting mirror. And not one I particularly enjoyed seeing myself looking into. Okay, okay, perhaps the slow and painful death of everyone in the Big Brother House isn’t quite the unequivocal good I had thought it might have been – and I must say that I’m more than a little annoyed at being disabused of that particular fantasy, Mr Brookmyre.
  
  These three novels would make brilliant films – particularly my favourite, The Sacred Art of Stealing - and I’ve no idea why so little of his stuff has appeared in film. The Brits did do a TV version of Quite Ugly One Morning and did so in a way that meant they couldn’t do any of the follow up books in the series, not least by getting Parlabane into a relationship with the lesbian policewoman, rather than the heterosexual nurse in that series of books, but hey, I'm not bitter.
  
  What can I say? I lived through it – which is more than can be said for many of the characters. This is not for the faint-hearted, nor for anyone offended by strong language or rather strong sexual content and violence. Normally, the sex and violence would be enough to put me off – but he handles this stuff so well and his plotting is so good (Hitchcock in North By North-West good) that I can forgive him anything and everything. Magic, or rather: alakazammy, stairheid rammy.
  
• 
  Lance Charnes

  Crime novels hailing from the Northern Tier seem to take on the stereotypical national qualities of their places of origin. The Scandinoir (a term I'm desperately trying to push into the mainstream) I've read tends to feature grimly dysfunctional protagonists, tons of self-generated angst and lots of windswept gray seas -- just what you'd expect from the lands that brought us Strindberg and Ibsen. Tartan Noir, on the other hand, seems to revel in its own bad behavior; protagonists and antagonists alike have rougher edges, dirtier mouths, bigger chips on their shoulders, and more developed senses of humor (though it's usually pretty dark), as befits a nation that's spent most of the past two millennia fighting against (and usually losing to) its southern neighbor.
  
  Take A Snow Ball in Hell, for instance.
  
  Simon Darcourt -- a high-functioning psychopath recently made redundant from his job as freelance terrorist by the influx of so many other psychopaths willing to work for free -- has decided to better the state of British civilization by killing B-list "celebrities" in wholesale lots. He stages made-for-reality-snuff-TV extravaganzas around his exploits and dares the British public to look away, which, of course, it doesn't. The confounded police bring in mixed-race, terrorist-hunting Glasgow cop Angelique de Xavia to try to track down Darcourt again. Yes, again; she's done it before in an operation that ended in Darcourt's supposed death. As it turns out, she's not the only one hunting Darcourt, nor is he the only one she's hunting, and the hunters are hunting the other hunters as much as they're trying to flush out Darcourt. Hilarity and lots of corpses ensue.
  
  Brookmyre, a Scot, gives the stage in turn to each of his principal characters and even a couple bit players, but his main mouthpieces are de Xavia, a bank robber/magician named Zal Innes, and of course Darcourt. As he did in
  Where the Bodies Are Buried, the author's able to present a credible and affecting inner life for his main female character, a "wee dark lassie" who's turned into a crack undercover investigator at the cost of her soul. Zal's a charismatic baddish boy who fell hard for Angelique during their last run-in (and she for him) and is tortured by his simultaneous needs to be with her and to stay away from her; he's a gifted magician who monetized his skills through performance-art robberies of large banks that were more crooked than the people robbing them. But the author's affection is clearly for Darcourt, whose first-person rants are so insane they make perfect sense, and whose outrage at the squalid tabloid-fueled manufacturing of disposable celebrity is so heartfelt you'll find yourself wondering why he doesn't exist in the real world. His first-chapter self-introduction is a tour de force of attitude, characterization and bravado.
  
  The plot looks like a ball of yarn after a pack of kittens has had its way with it, which is part of the fun. You know the author's taking you somewhere, though God knows where; the tangles and switchbacks and triple-crosses are entertaining as you run across them, even though you'll lose track of who's doing what to whom a few pages later. Darcourt's plots and setups are so elaborate -- scams covering up other scams, backup plans multiple layers deep -- they remind me more of Mission: Impossible than anything that would happen in the real world, and he's not the only one. Everybody's playing three-dimensional chess in this one. This over-cleverness, paired with the over-tidiness of its ending, is one of the reasons I knocked off the better part of a star from my rating. The roller coaster's fun, but some way through I stopped believing any of it was real and just went along for the ride.
  
  As mentioned, Brookmyre is Scottish and so are his characters, and they speak that way. You won't need subtitles, though an occasional Google lookup might be in order. A more important cultural issue (one that helped knock off that fifth star): how up-to-speed are you with 2008 British junk-celebrity lore? Characters name-drop relentlessly, assuming you know what they're talking about. I imagine that Darcourt's victims are tweaked versions of real D-listers that I'd totally recognize had only I been following the Daily Mail for the past decade. You say you open the Sun only for the Page 3 girl? Oh, dear; I'm afraid the jokes will fly right over your wee haid.
  
  This is book three of a trilogy, a fact the book doesn't trumpet. I just thought the characters had unusually detailed (see: convoluted) backstories. You've been warned.
  
  A Snow Ball in Hell is a fun, twisty, profane, hyper-attitudinal story that will keep you well-entertained while not hiding the fact that the author's messing with you throughout. If you've ever thrown things at your TV during X Factor, you'll love the premise. Just put your disbelief in a locked closet while you're reading and revel in the knowledge that this novel could never be set in Oslo.
• 
  Deanne

  Finally someone who understands how I feel about Big Brother, Pop idols, The X Factor and Britain has no talent. Several times I've told work colleagues I would only watch Big Brother if there was a tank of pirahnas/sharks or a serial killer involved.
  Fast paced, sarcastic wit and a great heroine, a few twists and turns and the return of Zal. Took my time reading it because I didn't want to devour it in one go and then sit starring at the bookcase.
• 
  Nigeyb

  It's taken me 18 months to read this, the third and final installment in the Angelique De Xavier series.
  
  It follows
  A Big Boy Did It and Ran Away and
  The Sacred Art of Stealing.
  
  
  A Snowball in Hell is every bit as good as the first two, and makes for a satisfying end to the series. It's typically profane, exciting, outrageous, amusing and compelling.
  
  In short, it's another winner from
  Christopher Brookmyre. I look forward to reading more of his work.
  
  4/5
  
  
• 
  Rishi Prakash

  This is a different kind of book in every which way- right from the language to the plot to the way of setting things up- which will slowly grow on you as the story progresses. I could not relate to it in the beginning and even thought if it was a wrong pick but all doubts disappeared after initial 50 odd pages!
  
  The Scottish author is brilliant. You can't help but be struck by how intelligent his arguments, and compelling his justifications are as you get immersed in the story. Amazingly he is able to use this highly amoral character to brilliantly satirize our obsession with celebrity and fame which is the basic premise of the story.
  
  This author needs to be read and talked for sure!
• 
  Wendle

  A Snowball in Hell = (Simon Darcourt + celebrities) x (Angel X + Zal Innez) ^ Twists
  
  It was great to see Zal back, i hadn't like the way things were left between him and Angelique. Though, to be honest, i didn't like the way things were left between them in this one, either.
  
  Simon, Simon, Simon. I simply loathed him in 'A Big Boy...', but the things he did [read: the people he murdered] in this one made me love him.
  
  I equal parts love and hate the way Brookmyre paces his books. It's a slow build up, with the characters and their plots not coming together until well into the book. And then once he's turned the tension up as much as it can go, all the major action spills out in the last 100 pages, relentless, non-stop. And in some ways, it feels so uneven. All that time and effort to blow his load so rapidly. But it works.
  
  There were twists upon twists in this book, too. I loved that. I thought i'd figured something out and it gets revealed, but then another twist makes it all moot. Never a dull moment.
• 
  Rachel

  Wow. Um, wow. That was awesome. I recommend reading the other two in the series first (A Big Boy Did It and Ran Away, and The Sacred Art of Stealing), just so you know the characters and situation. And because they're great. So here's the disclaimer -- they all contain disturbing images and some extreme violence, so not for the faint of heart (or stomach). But they're all amazingly funny and sharp, and this one was really, um, wow. :) I think I'll go read it again now. Except that it's like a magician's trick -- once you know how it's done, you can't look at the trick the same way again.
  
  Plot? Oh, um, Simon Darcourt comes back from the "dead", crazier than ever, Angelique is tapped to stop him, and she gets in such an awful situation that she decides to track down Zal, who has demonstrated yet again the Sacred Art of Leaving, to help her find her way out. Did I say wow? I'll never look at pop celebrities the same way again.
• 
  Jamie Collins

  Not one of my favorite Brookmyre novels. It’s well written, and I was glad to see the recurring characters, but it’s disturbingly cynical, and takes such sneering pleasure in its cynicism. Granted, it’s a villain who does all the bad things, and the book is meant to be a dark comedy, so perhaps I’m overly sensitive.
  
  I dislike inflammatory political commentators, reality television and celebrity culture as much as the next person, and the elaborately vengeful scenarios depicted in the book might have been darkly funny if they weren’t so extremely violent. The fantasy goes too far for me to enjoy it.
  
  To counterbalance the nasty elements of the book, the author revives the love story between Angelique de Xavia and Zal Innez. Zal’s trickery is a lot of fun, and it’s a great relief that he carries out his schemes without killing anybody. Brookmyre can do heartwarming pretty well, too.
  
  The action of the grand finale is twisty and exciting, as usual.
  
• 
  Barbara

  Funny, as per usual.
  It's a brilliant book when you don't know what's going to happen. Probably won't include it in my next Brookmyre re-reading spree though, because with the deception gone and plot twist anticipated (as I was reading it second time) I found myself little tired of the ever-present ranting tone and seriously wished that someone shut Simon the hell up earlier (I probably wished the same last time, just with the mystery awaiting I'd made through his chapters faster or so it'd seemed). Still had fun, though, Angelique is an awesome character for one thing, and I enjoyed her perspective immensely. It was great to see Zal again, too, and their storyline was nicely played. Also, it was quite enjoyable to all those moments when you could get cheated and to know how they'd play out.
  
• 
  Shihab Azhar

  Almost 10 years ago, a random jaunt through a bookstore allowed me to discover The Sacred Art of Stealing, a book I took great pleasure in, and allowed me to meet Zal Innez and Angelique de Xavia. I promptly fell in love with Christopher Brookmyre's fiction and writing (which, if you have read any of my reviews of his books, you already know). So it is such a wonderful pleasure to revisit their world, find two of fiction's most likeable characters still adrift as they were at the beginning and end of Sacred Art of Stealing, and follow their tremulous journey through yet another wild ride.
  
  Really makes me wish I had my copy of Sacred Art of Stealing with me, so I could reread that wonderful treasure while I savor the glow from this one.
• 
  Rachael Hewison

  A hugely thrilling climax to an epic trilogy.
  
  This book brings back all of the characters from the previous two books in one incredible climax. Simon Darcourt is back with a vengeance and his schemes are even more twisted and elaborate than ever before. There were times where I had no idea how Brookmyre had even begun to imagine them.
  
  Angelique is brought in to stop Darcourt and she is as brilliant as ever. Smart, witty and ballsy, she is a really fascinating character, particularly once the wonderful (and my favourite character) Zal is brought back in.
  
  Brookmyre takes you on a huge ride with barely any time to catch your breath, and weaves the plot wonderfully between the main characters. There are twists along that way that I did not see coming.
  
  A really brilliant ending.
• 
  Silvanna

  Started off really, really strong but by page 120 I lost interest. Maybe I'll go back to it at a later date.
• 
  Henry Fosdike

  So much fun. Simon Darcourt is a wonderful villain with his rants on anything and everything from B-list celebrities to landfill pop. The way the novel comes together is great too and it's nice to see all of the characters, from previous books in the series, return. The murderous intentions, the various flashbacks including a darkly amusing disposal of arms dealers, and the profanity for which Brookmyre is so admired are all present and the result is a book that doesn't care what you think - it just goes for it and succeeds in its intentions.
• 
  E.J. Lamprey

  Loved it loved it loved it. Sharp and harsh and screamingly funny and horrendously violent, absolutely one of my favourites. I don't even like violent books! Brookmyre books are the exception. The good ship Black & Decker, OMG - no, shutting up. No spoilers. Loved it.
  
  A read date? I've read it about 3 times, the last time about 6 months ago. I'll go for that one.
• 
  Bill McFadyen

  Take a touch of celebrity tv , magic , a pinch of violence and a mix of sadism blended with a drizzle of police officers and you have this read. I enjoy Christopher Brookmyre novels - they are funny , rude and different - and I miss a high percentage of the jokes , the twists and the messages that his work contains.
• 
  Sharondblk

  Not quite as packed with action as "A Big Boy Did It" or quite as clever as "The Sacred Art of Stealing", this is a fitting final book to the series, with a bit of suspense, a bit of fun and a bit of romance. The ending was very neat - perhaps a bit too tidy. A fitting end to a fun series.
• 
  Maria Gabriella

  Highly enjoyable as the other two in the sequel.
• 
  C. Bella

  This book is excellente and love this book.
• 
  Gill

  Most enjoyable murder/mystery/satire. Brookmyre rips into the cult of celebrity whilst dragging us screaming down a corkscrew switchback ride of a plot.
• 
  Robin

  Yet another trilogy that I intentionally spread out over a 3 year period...simply because I didn’t want it to end. I’ll miss Brookmyre’s sharp wit and cultural commentary. Angelique is a one-of-a-kind badass character, and she deserved the ending she got. ;)
• 
  Alice

  This book is wonderfully action packed and to me just about perfect. Audiobook narrated superlatively by Kenny Blyth - perfect.
• 
  Rhiannon Jones

  Excellent read. Funny and thought provoking and thrilling all in one!
• 
  Adrian Doyle

  A fitting finale to the Angelique de Xavia series, a well thought out plot enhanced by the author's fun style of writing.
• 
  MikeD

  Loved it. It has everything a good book should.