Stalking Ivory is the second entry in Suzanne Arruda’s African-set historical mystery series featuring American adventuress Jade del Cameron. The novel is most effective when dealing with the brutality of poaching for ivory and describing the wildlife of the northern borderlands of colonial British East Africa (now Kenya). As a mystery laced with the tentative beginnings of a romance, it was considerably less satisfying to me. Stalking Ivory is, in my opinion, not a standalone mystery. Its plot resolution left me feeling cheated and annoyed, all the more since I had stuck with the story despite its ungainly writing style and characters with whom I failed to connect.
1920. Travel writer Jade del Cameron is camping with friends in the remote area around Mount Marsabit to collect material for a photo assignment about elephants. But the peace is shattered by the murder of a patrolling soldier, and Jade’s trip is further disrupted by poachers and a German safari. Then the young Kikuyu boy in Jade’s care disappears. When she discovers a cache of weapons, Jade realises she and her friends have stumbled on a bigger conspiracy than illegal hunting raids.
In theory, Stalking Ivory has all the ingredients of a winning historical mystery: a dramatic setting, an outdoorsy adventuress for a heroine, and a plot that employs two high-profile topics: ivory poaching and slavery.
Unfortunately, many of the behind-the-scenes workings of Stalking Ivory are based on events and people only seen in the first book, Mark Of The Lion, which I had not read. Unfamiliarity with the plot of Mark Of The Lion affects every part of Stalking Ivory, including the solution to the mystery, which in consequence, in my opinion, leaves much to be desired. The subject of slave commerce in the end receives only tangential attention whereas the killing of elephants for their tusks is given a more central role in the story. However, in neither case are the economic, the social, or the historical influences that motivate these trades even briefly discussed; their inclusion is limited to unpleasant facts that occasion anger and fuel the mystery.
Stalking Ivory builds up slowly for the first eighty pages or so before the story livens up, but I never grew to particularly like any of the main characters, and remained more interested in the setting and the secondary characters. The tone strives to relieve intense scenes such as graphic descriptions of slaughtered elephants with moments of cheeky humour, but although the heroine usually laughs until she cries at her own jokes, the comedy seemed forced to me. As for the prose, long sections read like unpolished drafts, with characters repeatedly stating the obvious, clunky dialogue, artificial or overwrought chapter endings, and abrupt paragraph shifts.
Although slang, the Germans’ racial attitudes (there are few nuanced characterisations in Stalking Ivory), and multiple references to both the Great War and Edgar Rice Burroughs try to evoke a period style, the atmosphere felt more modern than 1920 to me, largely due to a heroine who does not seem to display any characteristics of a pre-WW II heroine.
Jade del Cameron (the Spanish ‘del’ paired with the Scottish surname Cameron is not explained) is a self-sufficient traveller whose green, challenging eyes can stare down anyone and who refuses to be emotionally or physically dependent on any man. An outsider in her capacity as an American in a British colony and a working woman in a dangerous environment claimed by male hunters and soldiers, her character comes with plenty of interesting potential. As handy with a rifle as she is with a camera, she is in her element in Africa. So far, so good. But her spirited, independent nature is often easily confused with obstinacy and foolhardy impulsiveness and leads her and others into unnecessary danger; her questionable survival instincts rely by turns on an old knee injury alerting her to jeopardy and on mystical interventions; her tracking ability owes much to a tame cheetah whose personality seems no different from a dog; and, being opinionated, she is quick to criticise, condemn, and ridicule others based on how she feels rather than on what they have or haven’t done. Instead of identifying with her or cheering for her I felt myself becoming a cool, distant observer. I recognise that it would be difficult to create a historical heroine whom modern readers can embrace if she were to display the prejudices of her era, but I do wish that the distinctions between the (enlightened) Americans and British versus the (boorish) Germans were less simplistic.
While natives only appear in supporting roles, invisible except in relation to the needs or actions of the Europeans and Americans, the characters of Boguli and Jelani nonetheless form an inextricable part of the plot. I thought these two were the most inspired creations in Stalking Ivory. The mysticism associated with the former blends in naturally despite the fantasy element and lends the intrigue a thoughtful quality not seen elsewhere in the story. The lively, sympathetic depiction of the child Jelani was a breath of fresh air among so many stale, stereotypical characters; of all the creatures, human or animal, in Stalking Ivory, he became the most real and interesting to me. I was disappointed to see him fade out of the story “off-screen” towards the end.
The romance in Stalking Ivory consists of a hint at what may follow as opposed to a full-blown love story. Two suitors who take an instant dislike to each other vie for Jade: Harry Hascombe, a British hunter who it seems also appeared in Mark Of The Lion; and fellow American Sam Featherstone, formerly a pilot, now a novice film-maker. The man who turns out to be the love interest has fallen for Jade through reading about her adventures, and every moment in her company confirms his infatuation. Jade is more ambivalent, pointing out that a few days of combining forces does not mean they now know each other. Some tingly moments do follow, but Arruda, like her female protagonist, seems more comfortable dealing with action sequences than tender emotion. For such a slight romance component the language is surprisingly retro-purplish.
Like Blood Moon Over Bengal, another romantic mystery set in the British colonies between the two World Wars, Stalking Ivory offers a captivating setting and a non-conformist heroine. Unfortunately, since not merely the series’ character relationships but the plot drew on events in a book I had not read, I felt I was served an incomplete mystery with missing actors. Still, the well-integrated, detailed research and glimpses of imaginative characterisation indicate that Suzanne Arruda has talents that are not yet fully developed in Stalking Ivory. Perhaps, in a while, I shall skip another few books ahead in the series and try a more recent installment. I do hope that mystery can stand on its own.
A book of related interest: Four Years In Paradise by American explorer Osa Johnson (referenced in Suzanne Arruda's Author Note) details the time she spent with her husband in Kenya in 1924 to 1927. As far as I can tell, Osa Johnson appears to be the real-life inspiration for Jade del Cameron.
