5 thoughts on “The Pale Criminal (Bernard Gunther, #2)

  1. There’s a fine line between being lovably flawed and being a jerk when it comes to detectives/secret agents and what have you. Last time around, Bernard Gunther was in the former category. You can’t blame a guy for having a bleak outlook on life in late-1930s Berlin, and the misogynistic attitude was what it was. In round two of Bernie’s adventures, The Pale Criminal , I found him much harder to stomach.

    It’s not just the bedding of women during sex crimes investigations that got me, so muc

  2. Το δεύτερο βιβλίο της “Τριλογίας του Βερολίνου” είναι ένα αμιγώς αστυνομικό μυθιστόρημα. Η ναζιστική Γερμανία συνεχίζει να είναι ο άξονας πάνω στον οποίο κινούνται τα πάντα,όμως αυτήν τη φορά οι ιστορικές αναφορές και πληροφορίες έρχονται σε δεύτερη μοίρα,και σε πρώτη η αστυνομική δράση.

    Βρισκόμαστε στο 1938 και ο Μπέρνι Γκούντερ καλείται να επιστρέψει στην αστυνομία,προκειμένου να διαλευκάνει μια σειρά φόνων έφηβων κοριτσιών. Παράλληλα,αναλαμβάνει και μια υπόθεση εκβιασμού,ως ιδιωτικός ερευνητής

  3. I finally finished this novel and dare to say that it is without any doubt the worst of the Bernie Gunthers’ novels I have read so far, with two more to go.

    Bernie is working as a PI after been out of the Berlin kripo (KRIminal POlizei = police) and he gets put back in his job by some serious Nazi big wigs simply because he is a good cop and in these days of Nazis getting all the good jobs there is a serious lack of cops who can actually work a case. The case being good German Aryan girls being k

  4. This is book #2 in the Bernie Gunther saga. It is 1936 and the dark cloud of National Socialism covers everything. Bernie is still depressed over the disappearance of his secretary/lover and he is trying to adjust to having a partner in his detective practice.

    “I had another argument with my boy Heinrich when I got back from the Zoo.” (his partner mentions)
    “What was it this time?”
    “He’s only gone and joined the motorized Hitler Youth, that’s all.”
    I shrugged. “He would have to have joined the regul

  5. I read this all in one day. I repeat; in Nazi Germany, Bernie Gunther would have been dead ten times by page 50. But I’ll forgive Phillip Kerr, if only for the great sensory pleasure of immersing myself in the reality of his description. He seems to know every neighborhood, every street, every boulevard, every music hall and restaurant and government building and whorehouse, the accents spoken by Germans from Nuremberg or Bavaria, and which Nazis were bad, or not so bad. The depth of his knowled

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