The Man Who Left Too Soon

Ever since Stieg Larsson’s first novel, The Girl with the Dragon Tatttoo, was posthumously published to enormous acclaim, first in his native Sweden, and before long around the world, Larsson mania has gripped the world of crime fiction world. This is in part because of the excellence of his Millennium trilogy, but also because of the remarkable story surrounding it, not least the tragic fact that the author died before he became a global phenomenon. I must say that I am really looking forward to watching the film version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Now Barry Forshaw has published Larsson’s biography, neatly titled The Man Who Left Too Soon, published by John Blake Publishing. One of the features of the book is that the author has called upon various contemporary crime writers to share their thoughts about Larsson and his work, and I should declare that I am one of them. Even so, I think it is reasonable for me to say that this is a book that will contain a great deal of interest for Larsson fans – even if they skip the page of so devoted to my ruminations!

Barry Forshaw is a very experienced journalist with a deep knowledge of the crime genre, who was until recently Vice Chair of the Crime Writers’ Association. He has reviewed widely, and I first came across him through his editorship of Crime Time, an excellent resource. Barry also wrote The Rough Guide to Crime Fiction and the wonderful (again, I must admit to having contributed a few essays, but the rest of it is definitely wonderful!) British Crime Writing: An Encyclopaedia. He is an excellent choice for authorship of a book of this kind, and I can’t imagine that Larsson’s admirers, and those interested in finding out more about him, will be disappointed by this timely publication

Editing the Editor

Geoff Bradley has written an article in the latest issue of CADS which I find interesting on a number of levels. He calls it ‘Editing the Editor, or “I Can’t Have Written That Can I?”’ and it deals with an essay he contributed to Barry Forshaw’s monumental British Crime Writing: an Encyclopaedia.

Geoff’s subject was Freeman Wills Crofts, a prolific and highly successful writer of the Golden Age whose Many a Slip I covered in a recent entry for Friday’s Forgotten Books. Geoff explains how, when he received his copy of the book, he checked his entry and found that various unsatisfactory changes had been made to what he had written. It seems that the changes weren’t made by Barry, but rather by a sub-editor at the publishers. Geoff was dismayed at the mauling his piece had received. Over the years, he has written a good deal of non-fiction for CADS and is a sound judge of writing quality, as well as being a first-rate editor (as is Barry) so I’m sure he was right to be concerned.

A number of things struck me about this article – quite apart from the natural sympathy that any author feels for a colleague who is dissatisfied by the way he or she is treated. I thought about the issues it raised in a more general sense and realised that, although I had contributed quite a number of essays to the same book, I had never checked whether my work had suffered a similar editorial fate. And I started to wonder whether this was down to laziness, lack of time - or simply a kind of authorial fatalism…

On a happier note, Geoff, like me, was impressed by the scope and readability of the encyclopaedia as a whole. It's one of the best reference works on the genre, in my opinion (and leaving aside my own contributions) to have appeared in recent years.

British Crime Writing

Barry Forshaw is a well-known crime fiction critic, and editor of the excellent ‘Crime Time’. His publications include The Rough Guide to Crime Fiction, but he has now produced a much larger and more ambitious two volume encyclopaedia, published by Greenwood. I should declare an interest, in that I contributed several of the essays, and I am one of the many writers whose work is subjected to critical assessment (in my case, by Michael Jecks, a former chairman of the CWA, who is more than generous with his comments.) But, leaving that aside, I am a keen fan crime fiction reference books, and most of those that have appeared over the years weigh down my bookshelves. Barry’s compendium is a very welcome addition.

There are so many interesting, and to me unexpected, features of the encyclopaedia that it’s difficult to know where to start in describing them. Barry has described that his emphasis has been on inclusivity, and the authors covered include not only the usual suspects, but also the likes of Peter Ackroyd and Iain Sinclair, who are not conventionally regarded as crime writers. The emphasis is on contemporary writers, but due attention is paid to names from the past such as the excellent Patrick Hamilton (sometimes oddly ignored in books about the genre) and the less stylish but under-rated E.C.R. Lorac.

There are a number of longish essays about particular subjects, such as Conventions, Noir, and Police Procedurals. I haven’t read all of them yet, but those I’ve sampled are extremely interesting. Of course, having a large number of contributors means that the approach is not entirely consistent, but that is part of the fun of the book, and besides, the diversity of subject matter and focus offers ample compensation.

The price of £90 means that this will not be an impulse buy. But it would make a great present for a crime fan. Otherwise, if you can beg, borrow or steal a copy, or persuade your local library to stock it, you will find much to entertain you. Of course, not all the opinions expressed by the contributors will find universal agreement. Of course, there will be debate about omissions (the choice of crime films which are discussed is highly selective, for instance.) But overall, the only reason why I have wanted to put the books down so far is that, after while, they become rather heavy!