Cosy? There's more to Richard Osman's debut than that

The creator and co-host of TV quiz show Pointless, and eponymous host of Richard Osman’s House of Games, has been busy with a little sideline: he’s written a first novel and it’s a crime caper.

 

The Thursday Murder Club came out last autumn and hit the best-seller lists in style – Steven Spielberg ha already bought the film rights (cast it right!).

 

I admit that I considered buying it then – having an extremely squishy soft spot for quality crime fiction – but didn’t, on the basis that, while I didn’t think it would be rubbish, my expectations otherwise were quite low.

 

Thankfully, a late review convinced me otherwise: I have just turned the final page and I can hardly wait for the sequel. 

 

A group of pensioners – former intelligence agent Elizabeth, former trade union leader and firebrand Ron, former nurse Joyce and not-entirely former psychiatrist Ibrahim – are members of an informal club at the village that pours over cold murder cases.

 

But when a builder and a property developer are murdered, they decide to get in on the real thing.

 

Now, I like quizzes and puzzles – and I’m not bad at them – but House of Games is, to me, like a cryptic crossword: on a level that I find entirely befuddling. I struggle so badly that, if I do get something right, it’s nearly followed by a lap of celebration around our tiny living room.

 

While not actually cryptic, The Thursday Murder Club is not obvious: Osman leads the reader a very clever dance that will have you in the dark until the end. Perhaps this is the ultimate way of creating a puzzle?

 

A Guardian review in October described the book as: “an amiable if undemanding cosy caper”. It’s “cosy”, certainly, but that damns it with faint praise.

 

What makes this special is Osman’s clear gift for creating believable and sympathetic characters. The central quartet are all wonderfully drawn – and not least, in terms of their dealing with age, their own impending mortality and indeed, their fear of, or dealing with, the dread of dementia.

 

And because Osman clearly care for his creations, the reader does too.

 

It’s very, very funny in places. I laughed out loud more than once and chuckled frequently: there’s a very English, gentle humour at play here … but also, à la the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett, I cried too. More than once. It’s morally complex if you care to consider. But beyond that, you care for these characters.

 

There’s a second novel on course, apparently – as well as the movie. But do read – it’s a joy in so many ways.