Eric Bear is a successful advertising executive. His beautiful wife, Emma, is a popular painter, and his mother is a government minister. It seems that his youthful indiscretions working for a crime syndicate are long behind him. But one day his old boss comes calling. There is a job that needs to be done, and if Eric can’t get it done then, well, it will be the worse for Emma.

So far, so noir. Except that Eric Bear is, well, a bear. A stuffed bear, to be precise. Emma is a rabbit, Eric’s mother is a rhinoceros. Genetics are a little complicated in a world populated entirely by stuffed animals. So are noir thriller plots for that matter. You see, stuffed animals don’t die. They can, of course, be ripped apart by one of gorillas employed by crime boss Nicholas Dove, and they can certainly grow old and threadbare. But die? Not exactly. Instead there are the Chauffeurs – mysterious cowled individuals who drive a red truck around at night. Whoever they visit is taken away and never seen again. How do they choose? Well, there is a list. And Nicholas Dove has learned that his name is on that list. All Eric has to do is get it taken off. That might involve confronting Magnus, the god-like being that the Church claims controls the world.

Amberville, then, is a noir thriller set in a world populated entirely by stuffed animals. The way that world works is central to the plot, so the book is very much an exercise in world creation. And there was another surprise waiting for me as I read the book. I had noted that “Tim Davys” was a pen name, and hadn’t thought any more of it until I saw mention of cricket in the book. That got me wondering where Mr. Davys actually came from, and a quick check of the copyright page revealed that the book was originally published in Sweden. Congratulations are due to Paul Norlen for producing a translation so smooth that I didn’t notice it. Anyone in Sweden know who the original author is?

The Swedish origin explains a couple of things. The rather bureaucratic nature of life in Amberville now makes more sense, and indeed the book may be rather more obvious political satire in Sweden. Also the Swedes are noted for their particularly dark take on noir, and Amberville is a very brutal book in places.

It is, however, a very readable and entertaining book. It has some interesting things to say about the nature of evil and how one should try to live one’s life. I’d be happy to recommend it, except for one thing. Amberville is one of those books in which the main gay character is not only a mincing stereotype, but also a sadist and drug addict as well. All of the other gay characters are clients of the main character, so are presumably masochists and people who have to pay for sex. Everyone knows that depravity breeds depravity, right? I’d rather hoped we’d gotten away from that sort of thing, but apparently not. I was prepared to put up with the usual noir thriller misogyny because that’s an expected trope, but the gay = depraved thing tipped the balance for me. Shame.