readingomnivore
Well-Known Member
A COLD DAY FOR MURDER is the first book in the long-running Kate Shugak mystery series written by Dana Stabenow. It was published in paperback edition in 1992, winning an Edgar, and reissued in e-book format in 2011. It is set in the Park near and around Niniltna, Alaska.
When Park ranger Mark Miller disappears in October and Ken Dahl, the investigator sent a month later to find him, also vanishes, Jack Morgan of the Anchorage District Attorney’s office and Fred Gamble of the FBI call on Kate Shugak to locate them both. Kate had been Morgan’s best investigator in domestic violence and child abuse cases until fourteen months before when she walked in on a child rape in progress; her throat was cut, but the violator wound up dead. Kate quit her job to retreat to the Park where she now lives isolated from her Aleut kin and neighbors to avoid contact with her grandmother Ekaterina Moonin Shugak (Emaa), de facto ruler of Niniltna and the Park. Kate agrees to find the missing men, both now presumed dead, knowing that the person responsible is likely to be a friend, family member, or neighbor.
Stabenow deserved the Edgar for A COLD DAY FOR MURDER. The plot is well constructed with subtle foreshadowing that produces a believable, emotionally harrowing conclusion. It, like many later books in the series, balances themes indigenous to Alaska--Anglo versus Native interests and culture, development versus preservation and conservation, basic man versus nature for survival--and personal lives of Kate and her neighbors. Slice of life humor enlivens the series. The episode of Bill, Otis, Chopper Jim, and the D-9 Cat bulldozer is worth the price of A COLD DAY FOR MURDER. Stabenow has a wonderful story-telling voice.
Sense of place is outstanding. Not only does Stabenow depict the geography of the Park, but she uses atmosphere and local culture to create a vital community. “Niniltna was a village of eight hundred inhabitants that doubled in population in the summer when the salmon were running. This made it a metropolis by Alaskan bush standards. Its building crouched together on the flat, boggy muskeq at the edge of the Kanuyaq River--the river that served as the drainage ditch to the Park, the river into which all the glaciers eventually melted and into which all creeks and streams flowed. It was the river up which the Chinook and sockeye and silver and humpy and dog salmon migrated to lay their egg and die or to be tangled in set nets and air-freighted to Anchorage, there to be cleaned and frozen and shipped to restaurants and supermarkets half a world away. Usually the fishermen were Aleut and Athabascan and Tlingit Indians who fished with centuries-old squatters’ rights. Occasionally a sports fisherman flew in, fished his limit and turned his catch over to one of a half a dozen Native women who would filet it and smoke it, rendering it tough and stringy and delicious. It was said that smoked salmon was not real smoked salmon unless your jaw ached and your house smelled for a minimum of three days afterward.” (41)
Best are the characters. Stabenow is admirably economical in the number she introduces, and she is adept at short individualizing comments. “It did no good to get irritable with Bernie; he’d just close up like a clam and invite you out of his bar. He had a sign hung over the back of his bar which read, we reserve the right to refuse service, and Bernie took that to be his credo, his guiding light, his raison d’etre, right up there next to no customers allowed behind the bar and free throws win ballgames.” (81) Kate Shugak is by far the most intriguing. Educated at the University of Alaska, with the highest conviction rate in the state’s history for her position in the District Attorney’s office, she is equally skilled at survival in the bush. Emaa constantly pressures Kate, trapped between Outside and Native cultures and suffering from PSTD, to become her designated successor in Native politics; her fiercely independent nature, so similar to her grandmother, makes for a difficult, reluctant relationship.
A COLD DAY FOR MURDER is an outstanding debut for a powerful series. (A)
When Park ranger Mark Miller disappears in October and Ken Dahl, the investigator sent a month later to find him, also vanishes, Jack Morgan of the Anchorage District Attorney’s office and Fred Gamble of the FBI call on Kate Shugak to locate them both. Kate had been Morgan’s best investigator in domestic violence and child abuse cases until fourteen months before when she walked in on a child rape in progress; her throat was cut, but the violator wound up dead. Kate quit her job to retreat to the Park where she now lives isolated from her Aleut kin and neighbors to avoid contact with her grandmother Ekaterina Moonin Shugak (Emaa), de facto ruler of Niniltna and the Park. Kate agrees to find the missing men, both now presumed dead, knowing that the person responsible is likely to be a friend, family member, or neighbor.
Stabenow deserved the Edgar for A COLD DAY FOR MURDER. The plot is well constructed with subtle foreshadowing that produces a believable, emotionally harrowing conclusion. It, like many later books in the series, balances themes indigenous to Alaska--Anglo versus Native interests and culture, development versus preservation and conservation, basic man versus nature for survival--and personal lives of Kate and her neighbors. Slice of life humor enlivens the series. The episode of Bill, Otis, Chopper Jim, and the D-9 Cat bulldozer is worth the price of A COLD DAY FOR MURDER. Stabenow has a wonderful story-telling voice.
Sense of place is outstanding. Not only does Stabenow depict the geography of the Park, but she uses atmosphere and local culture to create a vital community. “Niniltna was a village of eight hundred inhabitants that doubled in population in the summer when the salmon were running. This made it a metropolis by Alaskan bush standards. Its building crouched together on the flat, boggy muskeq at the edge of the Kanuyaq River--the river that served as the drainage ditch to the Park, the river into which all the glaciers eventually melted and into which all creeks and streams flowed. It was the river up which the Chinook and sockeye and silver and humpy and dog salmon migrated to lay their egg and die or to be tangled in set nets and air-freighted to Anchorage, there to be cleaned and frozen and shipped to restaurants and supermarkets half a world away. Usually the fishermen were Aleut and Athabascan and Tlingit Indians who fished with centuries-old squatters’ rights. Occasionally a sports fisherman flew in, fished his limit and turned his catch over to one of a half a dozen Native women who would filet it and smoke it, rendering it tough and stringy and delicious. It was said that smoked salmon was not real smoked salmon unless your jaw ached and your house smelled for a minimum of three days afterward.” (41)
Best are the characters. Stabenow is admirably economical in the number she introduces, and she is adept at short individualizing comments. “It did no good to get irritable with Bernie; he’d just close up like a clam and invite you out of his bar. He had a sign hung over the back of his bar which read, we reserve the right to refuse service, and Bernie took that to be his credo, his guiding light, his raison d’etre, right up there next to no customers allowed behind the bar and free throws win ballgames.” (81) Kate Shugak is by far the most intriguing. Educated at the University of Alaska, with the highest conviction rate in the state’s history for her position in the District Attorney’s office, she is equally skilled at survival in the bush. Emaa constantly pressures Kate, trapped between Outside and Native cultures and suffering from PSTD, to become her designated successor in Native politics; her fiercely independent nature, so similar to her grandmother, makes for a difficult, reluctant relationship.
A COLD DAY FOR MURDER is an outstanding debut for a powerful series. (A)