Detective Novel Series: Start of a List

Margery Allingham was one of the most famous of the Golden Age of Detection writers, with her bland hero Albert Campion (pseudonym for somebody possibly in line for the throne). Campion himself is something of a chameleon, playing different parts depending on whether the book is straight detection, a cosy, a thriller, a spy story, or a 'mainstream' novel with crime elements. This can be disconcerting because one never knows whether to be impressed or bored; he is a youngish (b. 1900) blond man who wears horn-rimmed eyeglasses, agonizes a lot over his cases, and doesn't really say much -- blithers, more likely -- but is more like a catalyst. Clues, in a classic sense, were not Allingham's specialty, except in the most procedural of the mysteries. There are several series characters, including Inspector Stanislaus Oates and Campion's man-servant, the abominable Lugg (an ex-burglar, gross both in temperament and appearance). As a writer, Allingham is great at providing atmosphere and describing settings; her characterizations are usually very good, especially when dealing with artists and the like. On the other hand, her plots often take a sudden lurch into incomprehesibility, and the dialogue can go haywire, leaving the reading thinking 'Say, what?' or else 'No sane person would ever say these things.'

While many of the books are essentially thrillers with little detection, there are a few of them that can rightly be called masterpieces, including Dancers in Mourning, Death of a Ghost, More Work for the Undertaker, and Police at the Funeral. But her reputation is no longer what it was.

The Campion Books, 1929-1968: Crime at Black Dudley, Mystery Mile, Gyrth Chalice Mystery, Police at the Funeral, Sweet Danger, Death of a Ghost, Flowers for the Judge, Case of the Late Pig, Dancers in Mourning, Fashion in Shrouds, Traitor's Purse, Pearls Before Swine (Coroner's Pidgin), More Work for the Undertaker, Tiger in the Smoke, Beckoning Lady, The Mind Readers, and Cargo of Eagles (posth.).

Simon Brett is a year younger than Grobius Shortling, which entitles the latter to make critical comments about the series involving the drunken, self-indulgent, low-self-esteem ham actor Charles Paris, who happens also to have a knack for detection. Brett has had extensive experience in British radio and television and other theatrical milieux (ranging from provincial rep to voiceover commercials), and has a wonderful satirical sense of humor about the behind-the-scenes behavior of actors, producers, directors, impresarios, agents, etc. Charles Paris is no Sherlock Holmes, is in fact pretty dull and wimpish, but he gets there in the end and the trip itself is constantly amusing -- he is his own Watson, so you could almost call that an innovation in amateur detectives. The self-indulgence, shmaltz, his interplay with his totally incompetent talent agent, the agonizing over his relationship with his estranged wife Frances, the silly middle-aged-man affairs he has with young actresses who always betray him: all become as repetitive as his constant hangovers, but that's OK (unless you do a marathon reading of all the novels as I just did -- when you can also spot all the recycling of phrases and situations). The real appeal of these books is not Charles Paris, Brett's astigmatic camera lens, but the rocks in the theatrical garden the author turns over, slime beneath the egos of celebrities; the detective himself is a sort of palimpsest, who can be both daring and clever or abject and stupid, depending on the exigencies of the plot. (My metaphors resemble the output of a typical Brett journalist.)

Best examples: A Comedian Dies, Situation Tragedy, and Not Dead, Only Resting

Brett also has a series starring Mrs. Melita Pargeter, the widow of a paternalistic gangster leader, who takes investigation and enforcement into her own hands with the help of her late husband's old gang. These are fun, but the formula cannot be exploited for more than a few books. Brett also wrote a tour-de-force short story for the Crime Writers' Association anthology (A Classic English Crime) called "A Little Learning" -- a short masterpiece tracing the literary antecedents of Hercule Poirot through English literature (Beowulf, Miracle Plays, Skelton, Sidney, Pope, and Burns) -- only an English major could appreciate this properly, but this story, while not a mystery, belongs among the all-time classics in the field. He has also done some one-offs that are quite good, such as Shock to the System and Dead Romantic.

Is this Golden Age Detection? No, not really -- too modern, and the plots aren't that clever -- but older practicioners set a precedent for this sort of mystery novel: Sayers's Murder Must Advertise, Carr's And So to Murder, many Ngaio Marsh's, etc. There is a whole sub-category of mysteries with settings in the "arts" (commercial, theatrical, artistic, lawyering [yes, that's included when you consider your Rumpoles and real-life Johnny Cochrans]) that lends itself to comedy and satire. This violates the Van Dine precept that detective stories should have no distracting elements like sex, romance, atmosphere, or humor -- but he violated his own rules too, so it is a nonsensical rule.

Another ageless geriatric, like Poirot. This old lady living in a stodgy little village called St Mary Mead solved major cases by her facility for making analogies -- i.e., this murder reminded her of Samson the Butcher's Assistant when he mislaid an order of beef kidneys. This is her raison-d'être:

"It's really what people call intuition and make such a fuss about. Intuition is like reading a word without having to spell it out. A child can't do that, because it has had so little experience. But a grown-up person knows the word because he's seen it so often before. You catch my meaning, Vicar?"
"Yes, I think I do. You mean that if a thing reminds you of something else -- well, it's probably the same kind of thing."

from Murder at the Vicarage

There are about 20 Miss Marple short stories. For a 'fairly' complete list of Christie's works, click here.

There is a long tradition of professorial detectives and academic mystery writers (Crispin, Innes, Masterman, and so on). The Professor R. V. Davie (no first name) novels, of which there are only a half dozen, were written in the 1960's, but are fully in the Golden Age tradition. They are especially distinguished by wit, not too much pretentious quotation, and a fine appreciation of opera and theatre. Davie is erudite, elderly, and feeble -- falls into the teatime and afternoon nap school -- but is certainly no wimp but a Crème Brûlée, and even provides a recipe for that fine dessert in Foe Outstretched.... Some detectives eat constantly, some drink a lot, Davie dozes off at every convenient moment like a cat, but he does like good food and wine.

Best examples: Only a Matter of Time and To Study a Long Silence


Davie is a fine and dignified old man (probably 'closet gay' considering how much he admires good-looking young men), still possessing all his considerable wits and wit and not exhibiting the boistrous childishness of Henry Merrivale or Dame Beatrice, but in the same way not being at all prudish or judgmental. He has the elderly habit about being distracted constantly by nostalgia -- cozy coal fires have been banned in London but got rid of the pea-souper fogs, stuff out of tins is not as good as the real thing, there are no more hansom cabs and muffin men jingling bells, and whatever happened to those old clever billboards along railway lines (like the Burmah Shave things that used to be all over in the US). One would feel comfortable dining and drinking with this man without ever feeling 'put down' or trying to keep one's behavior and intellectual status on a high level by not venturing any opinions about anything -- he is no formidable male version of Miss Marple (who, frankly, would disconcert me into dropping my teacup, and also into abstaining from a goodly number of the adjectives in my normal vocabulary to the extent of resorting to ums, ahs, and sort-ofs). He is one of the nicest and least intimidating detectives in the literature. (One also gets this impression of the author, although there is no personal evidence to support that.)

Ellery Queen was the pen-name of two cousins, Manfred B. Lee and Frederic Dannay (both also pseudonyms), as well as the pen-name used by the detective himself in his alter-ego as a mystery writer (and that is pseudonymous too, according to J.J. McC., the original 'presenter'). Confusing? Yes. EQ, especially Dannay, was also editor of the best of the detective story magazines (Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine).

The first ten or so books, dating from the early 1930s (but actually set in the late 1920s), could be called the 'country series' (Dutch Shoe, Chinese Orange, etc.), and are sub-titled 'A Problem in Deduction'; they are in the ratiocinative vein, set in Manhattan, and follow the pattern of the Philo Vance novels, even to the extent of modelling the character of Ellery Queen on that personage. A framework, à la Van Dine, is provided by an editor called 'J.J.McC'. EQ's involvement in murder cases is based on his father's position as an Inspector of the New York Police. The fact that EQ orders them around like boot-camp trainees, that they have no sense of investigation beyond the rubber-hose treatment, adds an antique charm to the books, but not verisimilitude. Most characteristic is the painstaking presentation of clues, and often a 'Challenge to the Reader' towards the end ("You have all the facts now -- what is your solution?"). Ellery's logical summing-ups are meticulous and usually flawless (often beyond belief, however).

Ellery evolved with the times and became less foppish, more introspective, over the years. Several late 1930s-early 1940s books were set in Hollywood, when EQ moved away from the NYC family environment; later on, he became involved with doings in a small-time American country town called Wrightsville (which in some ways is unbelievably quaint but is very evocative). In the end, he was back to New York. Several attempts were made to 'juice up' the stories to appeal to contemporary tastes, and because of movie tie-ins and radio (later TV) presentations. Most of the mysteries are cleverly and carefully plotted, with only an occasional blooper, loose end, or giveaway; the writing, however, was hardly more than pedestrian and often descended into bathos when trying to present an emotional atmosphere. In the 1950s the author commissioned several different writers, including Theodore Sturgeon and Avram Davidson and Jack Vance, to ghost write spin-off series and even some of the EQ mysteries. Since some of these were science-fiction/fantasy authors, there is usually a weird fantasy element in the story.

Best Examples: Very hard to call, since EQ's career spanned so many years, with at least one book a year. Recommended here are The Greek Coffin Mystery, The Egyptian Cross Mystery, Cat of Many Tails, and the short-story collections Adventures and New Adventures of Ellery Queen.

Additional EQ Detective: Drury Lane (under the author name Barnaby Ross). There are only four books in this series, all written before 1933. The titles are Tragedy of X, Tragedy of Y, Tragedy of Z, and Drury Lane's Last Case. The detective is a top-notch retired Shakespearean actor, who had to quit the stage because of deafness, and has used his riches to build a huge feudal estate, complete with Elizabethan village, on the Hudson River near Tarreytown -- populated with superannuated and destitute old actors and stage people, with names like Dromio, Quacey ('Caliban'), and 'Falstaff'. For some reason, he is also an amateur detective of the classic Golden Age type, a real dilettante. Interesting concept, and well done for its period. Expect very logical detection (and far-out clues) with absolutely no realism in spite of the trappings. The first book is excellent, the last very entertaining, the two in the middle interesting but not really first rate. If one wants to sample the EQ style without facing a whole bookshelf, try these books. As with all early EQ books, the official police are a combination of Keystone Kop and Gestapo, but that was standard in this type of book.

For more on Drury Lane, click here. As of Sept. 2004, there will be a new web page on this site listing the novels of Ellery Queen, but don't expect it to be finished any time soon!

Dorothy Sayers was one of the most influential writers of detective stories in her era and became a mainstay of the Detection Club (along with Chesterton), which was the premier group of this kind ever established, consisting of mystery writers of that time who could qualify according to admittedly strict standards of writing and could pass the personality test without getting black-balled. She was not very prolific in her detective vein (as compared with Agatha Christie) but must be given very high credits in establishing the 'classical' standards of Golden Age detection. Lord Peter (brother of the Duke of Denver [sic]) was presented as a classic upper-class ass person of the Wodehouse Bertie Wooster type, concerned only with appearance, what color tie to wear, and what hat and gloves, depending on where he had to go at that moment, and he spouted off obscure quotations from poets to taxi drivers, telephone operators, and the like (a very crass thing to do when you consider it). Many readers hate the books for this reason, even though he inspired wannabes like Philo Vance and Ellery Queen. He develops into being quite a good-natured person with a conscience. It was only towards the end of the series that the author introduced a really mawkish romantic interest and marital business with one Harriet Vane (whom he had saved from conviction for poisoning her lover in Strong Poison). There is too much distraction along those lines in the later Wimsey mysteries to make them good as detective stories. What is important to point out, though, is that there is a lot of openness about the sexual behavior of human beings (and other sins) in the earlier books, far more explicit and down-to-earth than in most 'cosies' written at that time. There are elements that are unacceptable now, such as casual words about Niggers and Jew-boys, yet there was nothing unusual about that then, and certainly not written by the author with any malice in mind, she was a very open-minded woman and still comes across as a very good-thinking and tolerant person.

What is most important is her ingenuity in devising plots and weird ways to murder. The best way to get into Sayers is to read the short-story collections about Wimsey and her other detective Montague Egg (a salesman); these have a lot of humor in them, in a good Victorian sense. The omnibus edition is always in print, like the collected Sherlock Holmes's. A Treasury of Sayers Stories (Gollanz, 1967 reprint, 15 shillings, 75 P modern, all the 'Lord Peter Views the Body' and other stories) is mine, but there are plenty of others well worth getting.

The Dorothy Sayers mystery novels, starting in 1923.

• Whose Body? (1923). Nice debut with a good plot, although even a school kid would know whodunnit once the characters were introduced.
  
• Clouds of Witness (1927). Wimsey's brother, the Duke of Denver, is on trial in the House of Lords ('jury of his peers') for murder at a hunting lodge on the moors. The scatty Dowager Duchess is a very funny character. Quaint plot, but Lord Peter is at his most irritatinglly worst with his Bertie Wooster mannerisms. There would be no mystery if all the protagonists didn't behave like idiots.
  
• Unnatural Death (1927). A thriller where the murderer is known almost from the start -- but what is her murder method? A beautifully written book, and one of the better Sayers mysteries.
  
• The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club (1928). An ancient, doddery old man is found dead in a library chair at his club (dead many hours, but nobody noticed). His sister died about the same time in her home. This complicates a large inheritance, and it turns out there was a murder. Good story and Wimsey becomes more 'real'.
  
• Strong Poison (1930). Nice mystery involving poison and an investigation with a trial deadline and some amusing help from Lord P's 'irregulars'. Introduces Harriet Vane, Lord Peter's inamorata, but this is not as cloying as it later became.
  
• [non-series] The Documents in the Case (1930). (collaboration with Robert Eustace) A very fine mystery presented in an epistolary manner -- one of the best of them in an unusual way. But note that Wimsey is not a character in this book.
  
• The Five Red Herrings (1931). Interminably dull book set in Scotland among artists and sports fishermen; tedious alibi cracking. Not finished by me.
  
• Have His Carcase (1932). Body found on the beach with no footprints but the victim's (a classic early example of this theme). Rather ingenious, but the story bogs down in the middle with an interminable investigation involving disproving an elaborate alibi (dullness of the Freeman Wills Crofts sort).
  
• Murder Must Advertise (1933). Comedy, rather than romance, is Sayers's forte. The goings-on at an advertising agency, where Wimsey is undercover as a private investigator, are hilarious, making this one of the best of the Sayers mysteries, although the plot is not particularly ingenious. Whimsical chapter titles as in the PW short stories.
  
• The Nine Tailors (1934). A masterpiece of the Golden Age: exotic and baffling crime, a very fine setting, and an exciting Act of God (big flood, if you want to look at it that way); wonderful details about English campanology (bell-ringing). The East Anglian flood scene is not really relevant to the mystery but provides one of the best descriptive settings in detective literature.
  
• Gaudy Night (1935). Not read by me -- its reputation as a dull book about an uninteresting subject (college ceremonies) was a turn off, as is the Harriet Vane/Wimsey romance.
  
• Busman's Honeymoon (1937). A pretty poor effort padded out with a lot of romantic crap involving Wimsey and his new wife. Embarrassing 'epithalamion' scene -- yuch!
  

Sayers was also a scholar (of Dante and theology among other irrelevant matters) and compiled several excellent and completist anthologies of stories in the mystery and horror vein that had been written before her time, especially The Omnibus of Crime (1929). This is the premier anthology before Queen's 101 Years of Entertainment and far outstrips Van Dine's earlier effort.

They are highly recommended.