Apel din necunoscut by Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu – Book Review

📝 First Impressions

Apel din necunoscut comes from an author who has been part of my reading life for so long that I honestly find it difficult to remember a time when her mystery novels felt completely new to me.

I discovered her as a child.

The first book was Bună seara, Melania, which I found in my parents’ library and picked up without having any idea that I was about to meet two characters I would become ridiculously fond of: Melania Lupu and Mirciulică, her black cat.

That was it.

I was hooked.

There was something irresistible about Melania from the beginning. She wasn’t the kind of detective figure I had encountered before, and Mirciulică only made the whole thing better. A clever older lady, mysteries, crime, humour, people constantly underestimating her — and a black cat involved in the proceedings?

How exactly was I supposed to resist that?

Looking back, I think of Melania as something of a Romanian cousin to the world of Murder, She Wrote, the Angela Lansbury series I also loved. Not because the two are identical — they aren’t — but because they give me a similar kind of pleasure: an apparently ordinary older woman surrounded by mysteries, watching people carefully, understanding far more than they realise and somehow ending up several steps ahead of everyone else.

Except, of course, Melania is very much Melania.

And then there is Mirciulică.

I have never recovered from Mirciulică.

From that first book onwards, Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu became one of those authors whose mysteries I approached with a feeling of familiarity. Her books weren’t simply crime novels to me anymore. They were connected to childhood, to my parents’ shelves, and to the discovery that Romanian mystery fiction could be clever, funny and enormously entertaining.

So when I picked up Apel din necunoscut, I wasn’t approaching an unfamiliar author and wondering whether her style would work for me.

I already knew that world.

I already trusted the storyteller.

And I was more than ready for another mystery.

💜 What I Loved

One of the things I have always loved about Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu is that the mystery is never the only reason I keep turning the pages.

Of course I want to know what happened.

I want to understand who is lying, who is hiding something, who knows more than they are admitting and how all the pieces eventually fit together.

But there is always something else pulling me along as well.

The people.

The conversations.

The little observations.

The way characters reveal themselves through behaviour that sometimes has absolutely nothing to do with the crime itself.

That is part of what makes her books so enjoyable for me.

They feel populated.

Not simply constructed around a puzzle.

There is a very particular pleasure in reading a mystery where you are not only looking for clues but also watching people.

Who talks too much?

Who suddenly becomes defensive?

Who is trying just a little too hard to appear innocent?

Who is ridiculous without realising it?

Who is cleverer than everyone assumes?

Those details are often just as entertaining to me as the investigation itself.

And Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu has always been particularly good at making me suspicious of practically everyone.

Which is exactly what I want from a mystery.

I also love the Romanian atmosphere of these books.

That probably matters to me more now than it did when I first started reading them as a child.

Back then, they were simply stories.

Now, there is an additional layer of familiarity in the language, the humour, the personalities and the way people interact with one another.

There is something comforting about returning to a mystery that feels unmistakably Romanian.

Not because the crimes themselves are comforting — obviously — but because the world surrounding them feels recognisable.

And then there is the humour.

That has always been one of the things that separated Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu from many other mystery writers for me.

I don’t want every crime novel to be relentlessly grim.

Sometimes I want murder, deception and suspicion accompanied by sharp dialogue, ridiculous human behaviour and characters who are capable of making me laugh while I am still trying to work out who did what.

That balance works extremely well for me.

It also explains why I became so attached to the Melania books in the first place.

Melania Lupu and Mirciulică showed me very early on that a mystery could be clever without taking itself unbearably seriously.

Once I had discovered that combination, I wanted more of it.

And Apel din necunoscut gave me that same familiar pleasure of settling into a Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu mystery and knowing that, whatever happened, I was going to enjoy watching the pieces move around the board.

There is something lovely about having an author like that.

Someone you discovered almost accidentally on your parents’ bookshelf as a child and whose books can still give you that same immediate feeling years later.

For me, Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu is one of those writers.

I don’t approach her mysteries cold.

I bring years of affection with me.

And that inevitably makes reading them feel a little like coming home.

🤔 What Didn’t Quite Work for Me

The difficult thing about writing this section for Apel din necunoscut is that I did not come away from the book with one major flaw that dominated the experience.

What I noticed instead were the smaller things that can happen when you read an older mystery novel from the perspective of a modern reader.

Some of the pacing feels different from what contemporary crime fiction has trained us to expect.

There is less pressure to deliver a shock at the end of every chapter.

Less obsession with twists for the sake of twists.

More time spent on conversations, personalities, social behaviour and the gradual movement of suspicion from one person to another.

Personally, I don’t mind that.

In fact, a lot of the time I enjoy it.

But readers who are used to very fast psychological thrillers may find the rhythm slower or more old-fashioned than they expect.

The same is true of some of the character types.

Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu writes people with a sharp eye for habits, vanity, foolishness and social performance, but some of those portrayals are very much rooted in the period and cultural context in which the books were written.

For me, that is part of their identity.

I don’t read these novels expecting them to sound like something published yesterday.

Still, it is worth knowing that the tone, humour and social observations belong to a different literary moment.

And occasionally, because I know Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu’s style so well and have read her with so much affection for so many years, I can feel myself enjoying the familiar machinery almost as much as the mystery itself.

That means the pleasure is not always purely about being surprised.

Sometimes it is about recognising the rhythm.

Recognising the way suspicion is built.

Recognising the humour.

Recognising the kind of character who is absolutely certain that nobody can see through them while making themselves increasingly suspicious with every sentence.

I don’t really see that as a serious weakness.

If anything, it is part of the comfort of returning to an author whose work you already know.

But it does mean that Apel din necunoscut may work differently for a first-time reader than it does for someone like me, who came to it with years of history already attached to the name Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu.

👥 Who Would Enjoy This Book?

Apel din necunoscut is an easy recommendation for readers who enjoy classic mystery novels built around people as much as around clues.

If you like crime fiction where the pleasure comes from watching characters talk, lie, hide things, misjudge one another and slowly reveal who they really are, Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu is very good company.

I would especially recommend it to readers who enjoy mysteries with humour.

Not every crime novel needs to be relentlessly dark.

Sometimes it is much more fun to have suspicion, deception and danger mixed with sharp observations, absurd behaviour and dialogue that makes you smile in the middle of an investigation.

Readers who enjoy older-school detective fiction may also appreciate the rhythm of the book.

This is not the kind of thriller that tries to end every chapter with a dramatic cliffhanger.

It takes more pleasure in atmosphere, character and gradual suspicion.

And for Romanian readers, there is another layer entirely.

Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu’s books have a cultural familiarity that is difficult to separate from the reading experience.

The humour.

The language.

The social types.

The way people speak to one another.

The small details of behaviour.

All of that makes the mystery feel rooted in a recognisable Romanian world.

I think it would also be a lovely choice for someone who grew up with Romanian crime fiction and wants to revisit that tradition.

And if you have never read Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu before, Apel din necunoscut can also be a good reminder that Romanian mystery fiction has its own charm, voice and personality.

For me, of course, there is always the extra emotional baggage.

I first discovered her through Bună seara, Melania in my parents’ library, and that connection has never really disappeared.

So I probably come to these books with more affection than a completely new reader would.

But if you like clever mysteries, strong character observation, humour and a distinctly Romanian atmosphere, there is a very good chance you will understand why I have loved her books for so long.

💭 Final Thoughts

There are authors you discover because everyone is talking about them.

And then there are authors who simply become part of your reading life.

Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu belongs firmly in the second category for me.

I did not discover her through recommendations, reviews or bestseller lists.

I found Bună seara, Melania in my parents’ library when I was a child.

That small accident gave me Melania Lupu.

It gave me Mirciulică.

And it gave me a lifelong affection for a very particular kind of Romanian mystery.

That is probably why reading Apel din necunoscut feels like more than simply picking up another crime novel.

There is history attached to it.

Memory.

Familiarity.

The pleasure of returning to a writer whose voice I have known for years.

I still love the mystery itself, of course.

I still want to follow the clues, watch people contradict themselves and try to work out who is telling the truth.

But with Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu there is always something extra for me.

The humour.

The characters.

The Romanian atmosphere.

The feeling that crime fiction does not have to be unbearably dark in order to be clever.

And perhaps most importantly, the pleasure of recognising a style that once made me fall in love with mystery novels in the first place.

I still think of the Melania books as a kind of Romanian cousin to Murder, She Wrote.

Not a copy.

Not an equivalent.

Just the same wonderful idea that mysteries can be intelligent, entertaining and full of personality at the same time.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, naturally, there has to be room for a black cat.

Because Mirciulică set the standard very early.

Apel din necunoscut reminded me why Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu has stayed with me for so long.

Some writers give you a good book.

Others give you a reading memory that follows you for decades.

She did both.

📖 Book Details

Title: Apel din necunoscut
Author: Rodica Ojog-Brașoveanu
Genre: Mystery • Crime • Detective Fiction
BookFairy Category: Mystery
Language: Romanian
Publisher: Nemira
Collection: Suspans
Format: Paperback
Pages: 304
Publication Date: 18 October 2023
ISBN: 978-606-43-1685-1
Dimensions: 130 × 200 mm
Volumes: 1
Series: Standalone