Yashim Returns

THE SNAKE STONE

By Jason Goodwin

Farrar Straus Giroux. 290 pp. $25

Jason Goodwin's new novel begins as the muezzins call the faithful of Istanbul to evening prayer, their mournful ululations shimmering in the gathering dusk. "It was," he observes dryly, "a good time to kick a man to death in the street." As openings go, this one packs a punch.

The Snake Stone is the second outing for Yashim Togalu, the 19th-century eunuch detective first encountered in the Edgar-winning The Janissary Tree, and the new novel takes up his story two years later. The Sultan is dying, and Yashim is no longer part of his seraglio. When a shady French archaeologist with a secret comes to him in fear for his life, the eunuch reluctantly helps him flee. He is soon to regret it. The Frenchman is discovered brutally murdered, and Yashim finds himself a suspect.

The scene is set for a story that leads us on a dance through 1830s Istanbul, down its twisting, laundry-shaded alleys and its underground water channels, across its wide bays and through its crowded bazaars, in pursuit of mysterious killers, lost relics and an elusive secret society committed to reviving the Byzantine Empire.

But despite several more murders, the book does not entirely live up to the promise of its powerful first chapter. Anticipating the movie that Goodwin no doubt hopes will follow, the narrative cuts from scene to short scene, a structure designed to ratchet up tension, but those seeking a knife-edge plot will be disappointed. The Snake Stone is not an edge-of-your-seat whodunit. Although gentle Yashim is an appealing protagonist and the large cast of lesser characters is deftly drawn, the twists of the story lack conviction, and its final resolution comes as something of an anticlimax.

The real pleasure of The Snake Stone lies in its powerful evocation of the cultural melting pot that was 19th-century Istanbul. Goodwin is a historian by training, and his sharp eye combines with a poetic style to bring the city vividly to life, from the night boatmen in their lamp-lit caiques to the scents and colors of the bazaar to the food that Yashim lovingly prepares. Bitterly regretting the loss of his manhood, Yashim has sublimated his stolen desires into the sensual pleasures of cooking, and the book is crammed with mouth-watering descriptions of creamy pilafs and delicate mezze. The spice-scented flavor of this book lingers long after its plot is forgotten.

-- Clare Clark is the author of "The Nature of Monsters."