Forgotten Book - Death of a Queen

Death of a Queen by Christopher St John Sprigg is definitely a Forgotten Book. I've been searching for it in vain for many years, but I finally had an opportunity to read the British Library's copy. If you found a nice copy in a dust jacket, it would be a good investment, I suspect, because the BL's republication of Sprigg's Death of an Airman has led to a renewal of interest in this fascinating author. Some people have told me that book is their favourite in the Crime Classics series.

Published in 1935, this was the last conventional whodunit to appear under Sprigg's name prior to his untimely death in the Spanish Civil War. (Six Queer Things was published posthumously). The book is sub-titled "Charles Venables' fourth case", and here the journalist is called upon by Whitehall to assist a sympathetic (and conveniently English-speaking) tiny state in the Balkans.

My heart sank when I realised that this story takes place in Iconia. So many Golden Age books have plots or sub-plots involving sub-Ruritanian kingdoms on the brink of revolution, and handle the material ineptly. But Sprigg recognises the difficulties, and explicitly, if rather cheekily, makes it clear at the outset that Iconia is no Ruritania. He also invents the country's history, heritage and architecture with great enthusiasm, and this makes the story all the more appealing.

What's more, there is a very good "impossible crime" at the heart of the story. How did the eponymous monarch - strangled with a silken cord - meet her end, when her chamber was under constant observation, and nobody saw the murderer go in or out? Sprigg handles the unlikely plot twists with gusto. All in all, this is an enjoyable story, extremely far-fetched, but told with youthful zest. I'm glad I overcame my initial reservations and read it through to the end.

Golden Moments

I'm drawing breath after a hectic week with a number of highlights. I've been involved in three events, including a murder mystery evening at Wrexham Library (hence the photo) which attracted a very large audience and a talk at Alsager Library. At both these events, a lot of interest was expressed in Golden Age detective fiction, and the same, perhaps more predictably, was true on Saturday, when I was the guest speaker at the annual general meeting and lunch of the Margery Allingham Society.

The theme of my talk to the Society was the recent renaissance of interest in Golden Age fiction - not just the work of Crime Queens such as Margery, but also other writers, many of them much less well known. John Bude is an example who springs to mind. Another is Christopher St John Sprigg. When asked which book I was happiest to have persuaded the British Library to publish in its series of Crime Classics, I chose Death of an Airman, and it's clear from reaction on Saturday, as on other occasions, that this is a widely appreciated title. I also made the point that some of the as yet unpublished titles n the series are, in my view, among the best of the list. Plenty to look forward to there, I can promise you.

The Society is clearly thriving under the chairmanship of that great expert on the Golden Age, Barry Pike, and the audience included two contemporary novelists, Mike Ripley (who has continued the Campion series) and Ann Granger, as well as a leading agent and several other luminaries. I enjoyed being shown the 'Crossed Red Herrrings' award (a forerunner of the CWA Silver Dagger) given to Margery for Hide My Eyes, and Barry also showed me an interesting part of the venue - the University Women's Club in South Audley Street, London- which was the room fictionalised by Dorothy L. Sayers as the place where Harriet Vane did her writing.

Although my talk was, to some extent, off the cuff, my theme was one I've been thinking about lately, with a view to the St Hilda's Crime and Mystery Week-end in August, where I'll be giving a paper on the Golden Age revival. That there is a revival, and that it is significant, is to my mind beyond dispute. There's a recent blog post by Curtis Evans on this subject, which I was pleased to read; I agree with his observations about the renaissance.

A few years ago, I assumed it was inconceivable that The Golden Age of Murder would attract a major publisher, let alone achieve lots of glowing reviews and two major awards. I think it's fair to say that the British Library were equally taken aback by their successes with the Crime Classics. What we GA fans must try to do now is to seize the moment, and help maintain this revival by encouraging the publication of more of the good books of the past, and continuing the very constructive discussions of them that are to be found on many blogs and elsewhere.

This isn't always straightforward. In particular, copyright complications (even assuming one can trace the copyright holder - no luck so far with one or two of my favourites, such as Milward Kennedy) can make the process of republishing in-copyright books fraught with difficulty. Never mind; estates of deceased writers are, more and more, realising the benefits of a co-operative approach, and realistic financial expectations, and I hope this trend will continue. On the larger question of spreading the word about the merits of the best GA fiction - and the fact that some of it is far from 'cosy' - I am aiming to make further contributions to the debate - watch this space!

Books for Christmas

What better gift for Christmas than a book? Or preferably a number of books! I've enjoyed reading lots of different works of fiction and non-fiction this past year, and here are a few suggestions that I hope might be of interest. I make no apology for the fact that some of them are written by friends of mine; I can promise that you won't be disappointed.

On that note, I have a weakness for - amongst other things - coffee table books,and Ann Cleeves' recently published Shetland is a splendid example. Ann maintains that she isn't a non-fiction writer, rather as she maintains that she doesn't like quizzes - yet still managed to win Celebrity Mastermind. Here again, this book is a winner. Sumptuous photos accompany her  text, and remind me that Shetland's a place I really want to visit before long. I'm not entirely convinced that winter is the best time to go there,but the photos of the Up Helly Aa Viking fire festival are almost enough to make me change my mind.



Ann also edited The Starlings and other stories, a Murder Squad collection which includes stories by my wife Helena and me, and also by Kate Ellis. A book we were all proud to be part of, with lovely photos by David Wilson which inspired each of the stories. Kate's latest novels, The Death Season and Walking By Night (yes, two novels in one year) are definitely recommended. So too Peter Lovesey's Down Among the Dead Men and Sarah Ward's debut In Bitter Chill, to name just two out of a dozen or so new books that I've really enjoyed. There have also been numerous excellent books about books, and writers, and I'd like to highlight Melvyn Barnes' book about Francis Durbridge, Derek Collett's His Own Executioner (a biography of that excellent author Nigel Balchin) and Steven Powell's study of James Ellroy, And if you happen to be a cricket fan, let me again recommend Steve Dolman's biography of Edwin Smith (a blameless spin bowler whose name I once borrowed for one of my naughtier characters...)

I can't fail to mention the British Library's Crime Classics, which continue to do a roaring trade. Plenty of readers have already been tempted by my three anthologies, Capital Crimes, Resorting to Murder, and Silent Nights, and of the novels to appear in the series this year, I have a particularly soft spot for Freeman Wills Crofts' Antidote to Venom and Christopher St John Sprigg's Death of an Airman. This year also saw the publication of an anthology of true crime essays by members of the CWA, and edited by me, Truly Criminal. It's not a book that has attracted  a huge amount of attention, but there are some wonderful pieces in there, believe me. Finally, I can't complain about the attention accorded to The Golden Age of Murder, that's for sure. And Harper Collins did such a good job in terms of making an attractive book to look at and read that I am hoping it finds its way into a few Christmas stockings!

Forgotten Book - The Corpse with the Sunburnt Face

The Corpse with the Sunburnt Face by Christopher St John Sprigg, first published in 1935,is a rare book by an author who has returned to public attention almost eighty years after his death in the Spanish Civil War. I've expressed my enthusiasm for his work on this blog more than once, and I'm gratified by the success of Death of an Airman, republished this year by the British Library. This particular novel displays once again his appealing sense of humour, although I do have reservations about the book as a whole.

The title is a good one, I think, although it is a long time before that particular corpse actually makes an appearance in the story, at a point where the plot complications are already coming thick and fast. I don't think I'm giving much away at all when I say that one minor but entertaining feature of the story is the use made of fake tan!

The first part of the book is set in one of those English villages beloved of Golden Age novels. Sprigg amuses himself at the start by having his vicat - of course the vicar plays a part in this kind of story, how could he not? - muse that "Nothing ever happens in Little Whippering". This is, naturally, the cue for all kinds of mayhem to take place. A mysterious and irascible stranger is the new tenant of "The Wilderness" and it soon becomes clear that there are dark secrets in his past. In due course, the body count starts to rise...

In the second part of the book, the actions shifts to an imaginary African country, where a policeman called Campbell pursues his investigation into a rather convoluted crime. One of the most interesting passages in the book comes when a senior British official says: "It's easy enough to call some deep-seated sentiment a superstition. Come to that, the British Empire s a superstition. There's only a group of independent nations acknowledging the imaginary domination of a hereditary Crown. Another superstition. There's no such thing as the British race, there's just a queer mingling of Normans, Gaels, Anglo-Saxons, Celts, Danes, and ancient Britons, with a good many French, Dutch, Italians, and Jews. Still another superstition! Yet these superstitions were real enough for men to die for them in millions during the war!"

I feel sure this passage represents the views of Sprigg, and I kept his views on race in mind when I considered his depiction of black people in the book. He was a progressive, yet there are snippets in the novel which, because of the language used, make for slightly uncomfortable reading nowadays.

More generally, I'm not convinced that the book works. I liked the witty lines, and there are plenty of them, and the plot has some neat twists, but it's rather rambling and - personally - I found it lacked grip in comparison to Death of an Airman. However, it illustrates Sprigg's praiseworthy fondness for trying to vary his approach, as well as his considerable writing skills..

More Crime Classics from the British Library

The British Library has just issued its catalogue for the second half of 2015, and it features half a dozen new Crime Classics,together with two Classic Thrillers. One of these books is an anthology that I've compiled, and I've contributed introductions to the other seven titles,so I cannot pretend to be impartial. That said, I'm very optimistic that fans of traditional mysteries and thrillers will find that at least one or two titles, if not more, whet their appetite.

Of the novels, I'd like to highlight Death of an Airman, which I've blogged about previously, and The Z Murders, by J. Jefferson Farjeon. They are both fascinatingly original. The Farjeon book is an early example of the serial killer mystery that I found extremely gripping. There are also two books written by Alan Melville in his younger days; he later become a well-known TV personality and humorist. His detective stories are light and witty, and have long been neglected.

Silent Nights is an anthology of Christmas mystery stories, the third of five collections that the British Library has commissioned me to compile. As usual, my aim has been to bring together a range of stories that show the very different ways in which inventive crime writers may tackle a particular theme. The contributors include Dorothy L. Sayers, but there are a couple of exceptionally obscure stories, including one by Farjeon that was kindly unearthed for me by Golden Age expert Monte Herridge when it emerged that not even the British Library had a copy. I've written an intro to the book, and also a piece preceding each story; my aim, however, has been to try to avoid repeating myself, so that there are items of fresh information even in relation to authors whom (as with Farjeon) have featured previously in the Crime Classics series.

Crime fans will be heartened to know that there's more to come from the British Library. Much,much more. This past week-end, I put the finishing touches to the fifth Classic Crimes anthology, and also completed two intros for excellent thrillers, as well as working on intros for two more rare and accomplished novels of psychological crime from the Thirties. And I gather that a deal may be in the offing that, if concluded, may lead to the publication of one of my all-time favourites. Can't wait...
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Forgotten Book - Death of an Airman

Death of an Airman, which dates from 1935, is today's Forgotten Book,but the fact that it counts as forgotten has nothing to do with its quality - which is high - but everything to do with its scarcity. Most of the seven detective novels written by the author, Christopher St. John Sprigg, have been hard to find for more than half a century, though the publishing revolution may change things soon. My copy of this book was loaned by a kind friend. He has a wonderful Golden Age collection, but even his copy of this one is an American reprint rather than the UK first edition.

Sprigg knew a good deal about the world of aeroplanes, and this makes the background - a small, fictitious aerodrome in the south of England - both credible and fascinating. His story involves an apparently impossible crime, and here again his inside knowledge contributed to the plot. But there is more to this story than technical detail - the suspects are not drawn in great depth, but they are at least entertainingly characterised.

One of the main viewpoint characters is an Australian bishop, and he is pleasingly portrayed as a decent man whose presence at the scene of a plane crash, in which a pilot's corpse is discovered, proves the catalyst for a discursive investigation which takes in an elaborate international cocaine smuggling operation. Books - especially perhaps those from the Golden Age - in which cocaine smuggling plays a part tend to have to do a lot to convince me of their merit, but Sprigg does a surprisingly good job of weaving the scam in with a clever whodunit plot.

Overall, there is a great deal to like about this book, and it's the best Sprigg I've read to date. In fact, I enjoyed reading it much more than I expected, partly because of the period detail, but also because Sprigg writes with a light and deft touch. What a tragedy and a waste that this gifted man died before he was 30, fighting in the Spanish Civil War. He really could write well..