Medicus - Ruth Downie

I made some corrections to yesterday's post. Sand Pebbles had more nominations than I thought, but I don't thin McQueen won Best Actor.

From a movie with a subplot about purchasing a girl's freedom, to a book with a subplot about purchasing a woman's services, we turn to Medicus.

Set in Brittania during the end of Trajan's time as Roman Emperor, and Hadrian's ascension, the book centers on a recently arrived doctor, a Gaius Petrius Ruso. Through a series of circumstances involving overwork due to a colleague's food posioning, Ruso finds himself purchasing an injured slave girl. Which is really not an extravagance he can afford, since his father's recent death has exposed his many debts, which Ruso is supposed to be helping his brother back in Gaul to pay off, so they can keep the family farm. But what's done is done, and Ruso does his best to make it work with Tilla (not her actual name, but it's the one she thinks he gave her, and he can't pronounce her true name to save his life).

Ruso also finds himself troubled by the young women who are turning up dead around town, since they all seem to be slave girls connected with a local bar/house of ill repute. Despite his best efforts to stay out of it, word gets around he's investigating, which leads to people telling him things that inevitably draw him deeper, and things progress from there.

Downie mentions in the author's notes that at least some of the hierarchy she describes in the administration is fabricated, I would guess for our amusement as Ruso finds himself struggling with the bureaucracy imposed by the administrator, the sort of detail-obsessed, big picture missing type that's is so often the bane of dedicated professionals, at least in fiction. Probably also in real life.

Ruso's an interesting character. I liked him, because I tend to empathize with characters who just want to do their jobs and be recognized for their skill, and not have to waste a lot of time buddying up to the higher-ups or politicking. But he's not the most outwardly friendly or empathetic fellow. He's not Dr. House, but he's not Hawkeye Pierce, either. I did find it a bit of a nice change to read a mystery where the person investigating is not some almost frighteningly focused person, but rather someone who would rather stay out of it. It isn't his profession, or his business, and he has other things he thinks he should be worrying about. But, the fact he took even a small interest once puts things in motion, and it goes beyond his control.

The situation between Ruso and Tilla had me worried. I was afraid there would be a start to a romantic relationship while she was his slave, which would have been awkward to read. I think it would have felt as if either Ruso is trying to take advantage, or Tilla is trying to use that to manipulate him. Neither of which would have been terribly pleasant to read. Downie handles this by having each character see something good in the other, but they're still aware enough to the circumstances that it can't go any further unless said circumstances change.