The Silence of the White City by Eva García Sáenz

Vintage Crime/Black Lizard, 514 pages, $16.95 (paperback) (c2016, U.S. Ed. 2020)

Translated from the Spanish by Nick Caistor

Eva García Sáenz wrote a three-book series which became very popular in its original Spanish. A Spanish movie was made in 2019 based on the first book, “The Silence of the White City.” So far, this is the only book to have been translated.

As with series written in other languages, the writing cannot be separated from the culture in which it is set. García Sáenz’s book is set in the Basque region of Spain. She does a great job of presenting the Basque elements: the food, history, religion, icons, family and friend groupings. Sometimes, though — as with the famous books by Stieg Larsson (Sweden), Andrea Camilleri (Italy), Leonardo Padura (Cuba) — some equivalencies will be missing in translation. Unlike books written by English-speaking authors who place their books in foreign countries, these foreign books make no accommodation for people who do not know them or their country. The authors hop right into the storytelling. Sometimes editors or translators insert some explanations, but rightly so, we readers are mostly on our own.

I don’t know how much of García Sáenz’s style was preserved or how much of it is typical. For instance, American thrillers have a certain cadence, with a tough main character who is terse but sensitive, cynical but undeterred to right moral wrongs. This is a generalization, of course, but I think there’s a certain expectation that American thrillers follow a rapid-fire pacing with a tough/snappy/moral hero/heroine. 

This is what García Sáenz’s style seems to me: Her hero, Unai Ayala, is emotionally wounded, tough yet tender, loyal and seemingly unforgiving of betrayal (but forgiveness is in his DNA), and smart (but you don't actually see him solve any clues). The pace is uneven because the action often pauses for romantic and personal excursions. That’s typical for American thrillers as well, but in “Silence,” the action sequences are spare and rapid, and the personal scenes in contrast are sometimes florid. Once the lengthy novel draws to a close, the pace quickens, the action pounds through, and a satisfying conclusion is reached.

This is a serial killer novel. Twenty years ago, in the city of Vitoria, several double murders occurred. The first victims were babies, a boy and a girl, posed naked with one’s hand caressing the other’s cheek. The next set were five-year olds and the next ten-year-olds. The last victims were the fifteen-year-olds. Archaeologist Tasio Ortiz de Zárate was arrested by his twin brother police detective Ignacio. When the present story begins, Tasio has been in prison for twenty years. Through mysterious tweets addressed to Unai, Tasio again declares his innocence and expresses his joy at his upcoming parole.

But then the murders begin again, starting with the twenty-year-olds. All the bodies, both twenty years before and now are placed at historical sites. What is the meaning of that message? Is it even a message or is it a quirk on the part of the murderer? (It appears that the murderer is giving the police a fair play way of figuring out where the next set of bodies will appear.) Is there a copycat murderer now, or is Tasio really innocent and the real murderer has lain low for twenty years? Maybe Tasio has an accomplice who is helping to spread doubt about his guilt? Ooo. Maybe it's Ignacio.

Unai and his partner Estíbaliz try to catch up with the case material from twenty years ago, predict what will happen with the next set of murders, and more importantly, profile the killer. García Sáenz weaves in elements of the Basque society, with its close family ties and the comfort of cuadrillas (friendship groups).

I found the Basque elements very interesting and looked forward to when García Sáenz would talk about them. Unai’s personal life I found less compelling, with the exception of his relationship with his grandfather and brother. Estíbaliz was mostly a cipher until part of her personal life became pertinent to the case.

I mostly have positive feelings about this book, but there were parts I was tempted to speed through. It’s a very emotionally wrought and sincere book.