It is thirty years since the death of Julian Symons, a writer whose fiction and non-fiction had a considerable influence on me, and I've enjoyed going back to several of his novels lately. Today I'd like to talk about The Players and the Game (1972) - I have a vivid memory of reading this when I was supposed to be revising for my A-Levels. But maybe, despite the sometimes shocking story material, it was a good way to have a complete break! I've talked about the book on this blog before but after a gap of thirteen years, I've read it yet again, so it's time to revisit my feelings about the story.
There really is a lot going on in this book. First and foremost, it's a whodunit, and a clever one. Second, the crimes are to some extent based, as Symons acknowledges, on the Moors Murders and the Lonelyheart Killers case. Third, there's an exploration of the philosophising of Nietzsche (not someone to get too keen on, remembering how his own mind disintegrated). Fourth, there are two case studies of mental breakdown experienced by key characters. Fifth, there's an examination of bourgeois English society of the early 70s. Sixth, there's a police investigation, with a range of detectives looking into a case of disappearing women which morphs into a hunt for a serial killer' mistakes are made which have disastrous results. And finally, there's a look at business life, something that Symons touched on several times in his work.
That's a huge amount of ground to cover in a novel that isn't especially lengthy. Fortunately, Symons writes with such economy that the story doesn't feel cluttered, even though there are a great many characters, some of them only lightly sketched. A while ago I discovered that Symons consulted his friend Alan Eden-Green for details about the world of personnel, and inscribed a copy of the book to Alan and his wife thanking him for 'his help with job enrichment, lavatories and the Jay Burns Lawrence course', all of which play a part in the story.
There's another feature of this book worth noting. Today, fifty-two years after its first appearance, an attempt at a cutting-edge presentation of contemporary mores is actually a document of social history. And in some ways the most shocking aspect to modern readers may be the way that an older man's mistreatment of under-age girls is handled; it certainly isn't glossed over, but nor is it treated in the way it would be today. So many of the attitudes portrayed - often, but by no means always, with a satiric touch - in the story now seem very dated. The Seventies were definitely another country.
Always good to see you giving a shout-out to one of my favourite writers, Martin. I’m sure you have your own copy, but Julian Symons has some interesting things to say about this book (and others) in his limited edition chapbook called “The Mystique of the Detective Story” (based on a talk he gave in 1981). Perceptively, but slightly sadly, he says that because of the type of “tricks” that he and other crime writers have to resort to, the crime story can’t be put on the highest level as an art form. Incidentally, one of the things I most admire about Symons (as both a reader and a writer myself) was his willingness – even eagerness – to write very different kinds of books, rather than just producing the same sort of thing featuring the same series character time and again. Martyn
ReplyDeleteThanks, Martyn. I'll have another look at The Mystique, which I haven't read for ages. I strongly agree with your point about Symons, even though I think he was too opposed to series characters. Series can be brilliant, the problem is when they become formulaic. I don't agree with him that the crime story can't reach the heights. It's very difficult, admittedly, but never say never!
ReplyDeleteAh, I’ve rediscovered your blog and will return often. First on my menu, though, is your book, Miraculous Mysteries, which I’ve just purchased. Chat later. Best wishes…Tim
ReplyDeleteWelcome back, Tim! Hope you enjoy the book. And I look forward to your further comments...
ReplyDeleteA perfect book to revisit, I think. Even the cover and the typeface is so redolent of the Seventies, and the changes in societal outlook in that decade was something remarkable, and it always fascinates me the way something like a crime novel contains so many little yet telling details of the era that pushes the period freshly back into the memory. It was also a time when there was a rush of crime fiction, with many potentially excellent writers popping up with a book or two, never to be seen again. And that, too, reflected the rapid social change.
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