In 'The Searcher,' French finally offers a somewhat happy ending

Perhaps Irish-American author Tana French’s nihilism is softening with age, but the main character of The Searcher, which launched in October, is less tortured and ends up less troubled than any of the detectives in her Dublin Murder Squad series or her first stand-alone novel, The Witch Elm.

American ex-cop Cal Hooper buys a run-down farm in a tiny Irish village in an attempt to escape the trauma of his former job and his failed marriage. A North Carolina country boy, Cal is damaged by what he sees on the job with the Chicago police force. He wants nothing more than to fish, shoot a few rabbits, visit the pub occasionally, and have little to do with other people.

That plan is shattered when a local kid asks for his help. Trey’s brother has been missing six months, and Trey first asks then pressures Cal to help. Cal reluctantly agrees, but he’s no longer a cop, so his only resource is his own wits. Cal starts asking questions, and that’s when trouble finds him.

Cal discovers that his seemingly idyllic village is not as it appears, and his neighbors have secrets he never would have guessed. He also discovers that he must re-examine his own moral code and perhaps make some adjustments. He learns that he can’t be the person he was in Chicago and still be happy.

Typically a French novel concludes with the protagonist destroying his or her career, life, or both. In some there is no clear resolution, which leaves the reader unsatisfied and anxious. In fact, in French’s previous novel, The Witch Elm, the main character ruins his life because of his own self-doubt.

However, The Searcher leaves the reader feeling more satisfied than French’s other novels. Cal comes to realize he can’t “fix” every wrong, but he can help Trey, and himself, find some closure and some peace. Most of French’s protagonists destroy what they were hoping to build. Refreshingly, Cal finds a way to salvage his dream.

As always, French’s prose is spellbinding and lyrical:

At first the river feels like what he needs. It’s narrow enough that the massive old trees touch across it, rocky enough to make the water swirl and whiten; the banks are speckled orange-gold with fallen leaves. Cal finds himself a clear stretch and a big mossy beech tree, and takes his time picking a lure. Birds flip and sass each other between branches, paying no attention to him and the smell of the water is so strong and sweet he can feel it against his skin (p 89).

The beautiful imagery combined with the dialect of the earthly, witty characters creates an appealing atmosphere that engages the reader even when the action slows down.

When Cal expresses concern about him and his neighbor angering the bar owner after a particularly long and raucous visit to the pub, his neighbor reassures him: “’Barty?’ Mart says with magnificent scorn. ‘Sure, that pub’s not even rightly his. He only got his hands on it because Sean Og’s son fancied himself sitting in an aul’ office, the big jessie. He can put up with us having a wee carouse every now and again’” (p 216).

Additionally, the third person limited point of view keeps the focus entirely on Cal, his struggle adjusting to his new life, and his methodical investigative process.

Not what anyone would call fast-paced, The Searcher still holds the reader’s attention with tense, sometimes violent confrontations, one shootout, and the conversations of the hilarious old men in the pub. However, it is not nearly as slow at The Witch Elm, French’s previous title, which is only slightly longer, but offers no narrative hook or inciting incident until about 150 pages into the book.