Forgotten Book- Printer's Devil

Sometimes an old book is a lovely thing to have, even if its contents are less than scintillating. That isn't a view I've always held. At one time, for me, the story was always the thing. But in the last fifteen years or so, I've enjoyed collecting old crime novels, especially if they have an interesting signature or inscription. And I was fortunate to be able to acquire from the estate of a great collector and crime fan, Bob Adey, a number of terrific books.

One of them is Printer's Devil, by Clemence Dane and Helen Simpson. It's a scarce novel, by two founder members of the Detection Club who were undoubtedly skilful writers, first published in 1930. The copy which I bought from Bob's estate is still in its jacket, and has been signed by Helen Simpson. A very nice thing to have. The next question: is the story any good?

This was a follow-up to Enter Sir John, featuring Sir John Samaurez, which was filmed by Hitchcock as Murder! Samaurez also plays a part in this story, but in a very minor role. The book clearly shows the authors' shared ambition to raise the literary standard of the crime novel, focusing on people as well as plot. And according to the jacket blurb, "right to the last page readers will be undecided whether they have enjoyed a first-rate comedy or a breath-taking thriller, for both are to be found in this story".

I'm sorry to say, however, that I wasn't undecided, because I didn't find it remotely breath-taking or thrilling. The premise of the story is interesting and unusual: a pioneering woman publisher is presented with a manuscript by her star author. He's written something scandalous, full of revelations about people's secrets. The publisher, a decent woman, is deeply concerned about the implications of the book, and soon she is found dead. A coroner's jury brings in a verdict of misadventure? But could it in truth have been a case of murder?

The trouble is that there is not much mystery about it all, and the "crime" element of the book could have been put across in a short story, where it would have worked well. Because it's smothered by dated humour, and a romance that I found extremely tedious (it's "ridiculous, charming", according to the blurb", but the charm was lost on me) I wasn't impressed. The fact the book is well-written isn't adequate compensation for the fact that it's not terribly interesting to a modern reader. What we have here, I think, is an experiment which fails because the authors strike the wrong balance between people and plot. In that respect, you might say that Printer's Devil makes Gaudy Night look like And Then There Were None. But I'm still glad to have Bob's copy.

Forgotten Book - Enter Sir John

Enter Sir John was the first joint novel authored by two friends, the playwright Clemence Dane, and Helen Simpson. A brief foreword credits the publisher C.S. Evans for coming up with the idea of the collaboration and the story, which introduces the egocentric but appealing actor-manager Sir John Samaurez (real name Johnnie Simmonds). He appeared in two later novels by the pair before their literary partnership came to an end.

The story is set in the theatrical world that both authors, and in particular Dane, knew very well. Martella Baring is accused of murdering her unpleasant colleague Magda Druce, and the evidence against her seems to be damning. She is tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death, having done nothing to help herself when appearing in the witness box.

Sir John, who had previously met Martella and taken a shine to her, attends the trial and becomes convinced of her innocence. She continues to be reluctant to co-operate, in the gallant yet infuriating way of so many Golden Age suspects. But Sir John is undaunted, and eventually uncovers the truth. it has to be said that, as a detective story, this one is nothing special; the puzzle is perfunctory. The writing and characterisation (by the standards of the time) are what lift it out of the ordinary. The question of racism is also addressed,in a way that - again by the standards of 1929 - is quite thought-provoking.

The story was vivid enough to appeal to Hitchcock, who filmed it as Murder!, a movie I reviewed here more than four years ago. There are also elements which, as Liz Gilbey noted in a an excellent article for CADS a while back, anticipate a much better known book by a friend and Detection Club colleague of the authors - Dorothy L. Sayers, whose Strong Poison offers a cunning howdunit puzzle. Enter Sir John isn't as good as the Sayers novel, but it's interesting, nonetheless.

Forgotten Book - I Am Jonathan Scrivener

The book I'm going to talk about today is one I'd never heard of (nor had I heard of its author) until I read a post on that excellent blog, Pretty Sinister Books, where John Norris praised it highly. John managed to get me really intrigued, and since a newish reprint is readily available, I sought it out. The Forgotten Book is I Am Jonathan Scrivener, and its Forgotten Author is Claude Houghton.

Back in the Thirties, both the novel and its creator gathered an impressive list of admirers. These included such diverse figures as Henry Miller, Hugh Walpole, Clemence Dane and P.G Wodehouse. Walpole and Dane even published a short appreciation of Houghton's work. In the present day, Houghton's fans include Michael Dirda, who contributes an enthusiastic intro to the new edition of the book (there is also a short piece by Walpole.)

It's a distinctive story, not quite like anything else I've ever read. There certainly seems to me to be an influence from Franz Kafka, but then again, the style is not really like Kafka. It's a genuine one-off. The story is narrated by James Wrexham, and he applies for a job as a secretary to a man of independent means who is about to leave the country. He gets the job, and is told by a solicitor that his new employer is called Jonathan Scrivener, and that he can live in Scrivener's house and, in effect, do as he pleases.

Various acquaintances of Scrivener turn up at the house, and they all seem keen to see Scrivener again, but equally, there is an air of mystery about the man. In particular, he seems to have made different impressions on each of them. What is Scrivener up to? I found this a fascinating, and often witty book, which held my interest despite a distinct lack of action. It's a book full of ideas, but none the worse for that. I enjoyed reading it, and although I don't claim it as a major masterpiece, it's astonishing that it's slipped so far from view until recently.  And also, from a writer's point of view, sobering.

Murder! - review

I have just watched a DVD of an Alfred Hitchcock rarity - a whodunit, rather than a thriller. Murder! was an early talkie from 1930, and it was based on a novel by Detection Club members Clemence Dane and Helen Simpson, Enter Sir John. In the film, Sir John Samaurez, an actor-manager, is renamed Sir John Menier, and is played by Herbert Marshall.

Sir John is a member of a jury which convicts an actress of murdering a colleague. However, he repents of his part in the verdict and sets about finding out what really happened. Suffice to say that the mystery is easily solved, but that there is a memorable finale involving a half-caste transvestite trapeze artist, the kind of character you don't find everyday in crime stories.

Marshall's performance is not very compelling, but the film, despite creakiness, does show us some of the Master's touches at a formative stage in his career. He didn't really care for whodunits, reasoning that they didn't work as well in film as thrillers, and probably he was right.

I haven't read the book, so I'm not sure how faithful the film was to the plot. But Dane and Simpson were interesting characters and I hope to write some more about them in the future. Simpson, by the way, was a very glamorous woman who also became a close friend of Dorothy L. Sayers before her death at a young age from cancer.

Forgotten Book - The Scoop

The Scoop, my latest entry to Patti Abbott's series of forgotten books, was the second collaborative writing project undertaken by members of the Detection Club. It was originally written for broadcast on BBC radio, first appearing in ‘The Listener’ in 1931. Not until 1983 did the story appear in book form, when Gollancz published it, together with Behind the Screen, a similar effort from 1930. Essentially, The Scoop is a novella, and has the strengths and limitations of these round-robin efforts.

One great strength is the quality of the writing. In Golden Age detection terms, the authors really were the cream of the crop: Agatha Christie, Freeman Wills Crofts, E.C. Bentley and Anthony Berkeley among them. Dorothy L. Sayers kicked off the story and also finished it, and everyone else also wrote two chapters each. The only author whose other work I haven’t read is Clemence Dane. Dane was a pseudonym for Winifred Ashton. In her time, she was very well known in the world of theatre, but her reputation in the crime field has not survived too well (her three detective novels were co-written with Helen Simpson.) However, it seems that she was a successful playwright and even won an Oscar. Not many crime writers can make a similar claim.

The story centres around a newspaper, ‘The Morning Star’ (very different from the left wing publication of the same name, which continues to flourish to this day.) The main focus of interest for the newshounds is the Lone Bungalow Mystery – a woman has been found stabbed to death in mysterious circumstances, and a young reporter called Johnson is sent to investigate. He soon discovers the weapon, but is himself murdered, and a more experienced reporter, Denis Oliver, takes over the investigation.

The authors’ distinctive styles contribute to the fun. Sayers writes with her usual gusto. Christie is clear, witty and readable. When Crofts takes over, he switches attention from the amateur detective work to the plodding investigation of Scotland Yard. When Clemence Dane concentrated on the purchase of a puppy by one of the secretaries who works on the newspaper, I began to understand why her career as a crime writer was not exactly legendary – but in the end, the puppy contributes to the sorting-out of the story.

This story was a novelty when it was written. More than three-quarters of a century later, I still found it a highly engaging curiosity.