A real bare-bones mystery
I’m not ready to declare the Temperance Brennan novels to have jumped the shark with *Bare Bones*, but even with some time away from the series this one didn’t do much for me. If in *[Fatal Voyage]([canonical-url:node/1313])* and *[Grave Secrets]([canonical-url:node/1317])* Kathy Reichs relaxed into the job and hit her stride, then in *Bare Bones* she might have relaxed a bit too much.
Reichs’s writing style continues to improve. Gone are the forced similes found in her earlier books. However, the characters aren’t even pretending to develop depth in *Bare Bones*. If I hadn’t already read the previous books, I’d be left with no sense of even Tempe Brennan’s personality. The few colorful minor characters were entertaining enough, but mostly static caricatures, not developed and multidimensional characters.
Further, the story’s structure didn’t seem well-developed. She reused plot devices from earlier novels. The ending was abrupt and seemed entirely accidental. There was no *epitasis* leading up to the climax, giving the impression that Reichs hit her target word count and simply wrapped up the book with a perfunctory ending.
What was most disappointing was how little *Bare Bones* seemed to be about the scientific and forensic investigation. The aspect I most look forward to in the Temperance Brennan books is the authenticity of her investigations. Reichs’s own experience in this field is the strength of the series. Facts are revealed through a process of evidentiary investigation. Small details come back as significant, and it is seen how we all leave unintended footprints as we go through life, even as we might try to hide or minimize our trail. But *Bare Bones* had only a smattering of this detail. It may as well have been any other pulp mystery story.
My favorite part of the entire book was reading the end notes. Reichs related an anecdote about a fellow forensic anthropologist involving a moose. It was a nice, personal touch from the author that came as a refreshing sidebar, especially after the novel itself which fell so flat.
It only just occurred to me how cloyingly apropos that the series’ titular character, a recovered alcoholic who does not drink, is named Temperance. I suppose the fact that I only realized this after reading a half-dozen of these novels is reason enough to overlook the device, but you can imagine my eyes rolling skyward.