Forgotten Book - The Shortest Way to Hades

It's clear from reaction to my recent comments on this blog about the late Sarah Caudwell that, despite the short and far from prolific nature of her career, she retains many admirers. I'm certainly among them. Sarah died more than fourteen years ago, but she definitely should not be forgotten. So I'm following up last week's post about her debut novel with some thoughts on the follow-up, The Shortest Way to Hades. This was first published in 1985, although Sarah published only one more novel in the last fifteen years of her life. Perhaps a case of writer's block? A great deal of intensity went into writing her complicated and witty novels, and although the effect is very smooth, this was - as usual - the product of much hard work.

This novel is again narrated by Professor Hilary Tamar (male or female? we are never told) in Sarah's witty, wordy and intelligent way, and again features a likeable group of young barristers from Lincoln's Inn. Sarah also makes good use of letters as a means of conveying plot information, and offers a gorgeous continental background, in this case Corfu,as a counterpoint to the London legal world where much of the story takes place. She even introduces a cricket match into the story - shades of Dorothy L. Sayers and Murder Must Advertise.

The story concerns a legal issue that is right up the street of Chancery barristers like Sarah and her charactes -a tax avoidance scheme designed to assist the beneficiaries of a multi-million pound family trust. A cousin called Deirdre demands a large amount of money for her consent (I didn't think this was quite as unreasonable as some of the characters seemed to do, I must say) and makes herself deeply unpopular. Then Deirdre suffers a fatal accident while the family is watching the Boat Race. But was it an accident?

Well, we can guess the answer to that question, but solving the detail of the mystery is quite a challenge. The clues are supplied, but are concealed with great skill and no little cunning. Once more, Hilary's mastery of the more arcane aspects of legal scholarship supplies the vital leads to what is really going on. When I re-read this book recently, I found it just as much of a joy to read as I did back in the 80s. If you are a Golden Age fan, I am pretty confident you will enjoy this book.

Top 10 Golden Age novels

Here, as promised, is my highly subjective and apt-to-change-in-the-blink-of-an-eye list of top ten favourite Golden Age detective novels. I've imposed some limitations - just one book per author, and I've focused on detection rather than psychological crime (hence, no room for the wonderful Malice Aforethought.) I've tended to choose books that were in some way very original. Mike Linane made a very good suggestion that I should pick novels that are not too difficult to obtain, and I've gone part of the way to doing this. The Hull book, for instance, was an old green Penguin that you often find in second hand bookshops or at book fairs, although I can't claim that it's very easy to find. The King book was republished by Collins Crime Club in the 80s, and again is not terribly rare. So I hope anyone who wants to track them down will be able to do so, even if it takes a bit of perseverance. Next week, however, I shall develop a theme which Mike put in my mind by listing ten Golden Age books that are very obscure, but in my opinion undeservedly so.

Finally, I should say that, to show how difficult this game is, I changed my mind several times during the course of writing this post. And I'll probably change it a few more times as I'm reminded of classics I've overlooked...

10. The Crooked Hinge by John Dickson Carr - I'm a great fan of "impossible crime" mysteries, and Carr wrote several superb examples. Hard to choose just one, but I did admire this mystery.

9. Tragedy at Law by Cyril Hare - several of Hare's books appeared as late as the Fifties,but like Christie's and that of Edmund Crisipin and Christianna Brand, his work belongs in spirit to the Golden Age. This is a classic study of law and crime. Very unusual.

8. Excellent Intentions by Richard Hull - a strangely under-estimated book by a writer who was always trying something different. Very clever twist on the idea of the courtroom drama.

7. Death Walks in Eastrepps by Francis Beeding - a wonderfully original serial killer whodunit, with a great twist and terrific seaside setting.

6. Obelists Fly High by C. Daly King - King wrote barmily implausible books, but this one is written with such gusto, and has such a detailed "clue finder" that I find it impossible not to include it in my list.

5. Trent's Last Case by E.C. Bentley - this is the book that was the catalyst for the Golden Age school of writers, and it's really very well done. Elegant and memorable.

4. Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers - I find it very hard to pick my favourite Sayers book. They all seem flawed to me - but usually because she was so admirably ambitious. The Nine Tailors and The Documents in the Case are really good too. I'm not a member of the Gaudy Night fan club, I'm afraid, even though again I respect what Sayers was trying to achieve.

3. Lonely Magdalen by Henry Wade - a police story, and much darker than most Golden Age books. But very impressive, and a landmark title in terms of police procedure mysteries.

2. The Poisoned Chocolates Case by Anthony Berkeley - witty and clever, this is a masterly example of the multiple solution detective mystery. Both Sayers and Christie loved it, and so do I.

1. And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie - as I said on Monday, this one is simply unbeatable in my opinion...

Forgotten Book - A Dagger in Fleet Street

My Forgotten Book for today is R.C. Woodthorpe's second novel, A Dagger in Fleet Street, first published in 1934, and applauded at the time, but now neglected and very difficult to find. In fact, I owe my copy to a kind person who supplied it to me when all other attempts came to nothing. And, as usual with Woodthope, the book boasts a number of attractive features.

This is, like Sayers' Murder Must Advertise, a workplace mystery. Woodthorpe had set his debut novel, The Public School Murder in a fictional version of the place where he used to teach. He moved from education to journalism with the Daily Herald, which in the novel becomes the Daily Hope. And Woodthorpe's knowledge of newspaper life makes his portrayal of it more powerful and authentic than Christopher St John Sprigg's entertaining Fatality in Fleet Street, published at much the same time.

Woodthorpe is good not only at describing the nature of journalistic life, but also at capturing the uncertainty faced by working people in the aftermath of the Slump. No job was safe, and one character says, "Thank God for the National Union of Journalists." That isn't the sort of sentiment that is generally associated with Golden Age detective fiction is it? An illustration, I suggest, of how the Golden Age is frequently misunderstood. Woodthorpe's writing regularly reflected his political views. The same woman turns out to be a communist; she is portrayed positively throughout, though she is smart enough not to reveal her political views to the newspaper's proprietor, or the acting editor, who is a "petty Mussolini," and who finishes up with the titular dagger in his throat.

Woodthorpe supplies some very good lines, and sharp social comedy. The only snag is that he is obviously uninterested in his plot. He was a writer, I think, who used the detective form as a peg to hang his writing on, but he was not very good at constructing a mystery. The puzzle, involving a rather insipid and ridiculous campaign by the newspaper against a pretty young woman, is third rate at best. But I'm really glad I read th book, because it gave me an insight, albeit quite light-hearted, into life in Fleet Street at a fascinating time of our history.

Fen Country

East Anglia is the setting for some marvellous crime fiction, but it's a part of England that I've seldom visited. This is quite a confession, given that in the 90s I co-edited, with Robert Church, Anglian Blood, a CWA anthology of East Anglian crime fiction; the local chapter invited me to become involved, not because of my knowledge of the area but because of my interest in short stories. That book boasted a cover that I really did not like, but thankfully, the contents were better than the artwork, and the book contained a couple of stories that were short-listed for CWA Daggers. Suffice to say that I felt that a return trip to Fenland was long overdue.

So, on a September Sunday as lovely as any we've had all year, my webmaster and I headed from Cambridge to Ely - a place I've never been to before, but of which I've heard good things.In a nutshell, the praise Ely receives from its fans is well-deserved. We had a terrific day, which included a walking tour and a trip to the top of the remarkable octagonal tower of the utterly stunning cathedral.

I suppose the most famous East Anglian detective novel is Sayers' The Nine Tailors, which most people would acknowledge is a classic of the genre (though after re-reading most of her work earlier this year, I decided I preferred the very appealing Murder Must Advertise.) She captures the atmosphere of the Fens very effectively. P.D. James also loves the area, and Devices and Desires in particular benefits from an evocative setting.

The late Alan Hunter - who created Inspector George Gently and who, like P.D. James, contributed to Anglian Blood - was another East Anglian crime writer of note. It's sad that his books were not televised until after his death. Among present day practioners, Jim Kelly is especially good at Fenland settings, and I'm a fan of his enjoyable puzzle Death Wore White. My trip to Ely and Fenland, although very brief, helped me to understand why the landscape has made such a strong impression on writers over so many years. It's a fascinating place, and I shall aim not to leave it too long before exploring it more extensively.

Forgotten Book - Plain Murder

I so much enjoyed reading the re-discovered crime novel by CS Forester, The Pursued, that I decided to have another look at his second novel of psychological suspense, Plain Murder, which was first published in 1930. It is a book which, like his debut, Payment Deferred, has tended to be forgotten by crime fans – but it certainly does not deserve such a fate.

I first read Plain Murder as a teenager, shortly after being blown away by the brilliance, as it seemed to me, of Payment Deferred. Perhaps inevitably, it suffered by comparison with its remarkable predecessor, and I have said as much once or twice in articles I've written over the years. But I'm now tempted to revise my opinion to some extent. The finale of this story is not quite as dazzling and original, but the book as a whole is short, snappy and highly enjoyable.

Three advertising men have been discovered by their boss in a minor fiddle. They face the sack, and the poverty that dismissal for gross misconduct almost always meant in 1930. The ringleader, Charlie Morris, persuades his colleagues to help him kill the boss, and they duly get away with murder. However, the crime feeds Morris' egotism, and he finds himself on a downward spiral of homicide.

One of the striking features of the book is the well-realised office setting. I can think of very few office-based mysteries written before 1930 – any suggestions? Certainly, Forester anticipated Dorothy L Sayers, who published Murder Must Advertise three years later. Her enjoyable novel is much better known than Forester's, but I do wonder if his book to some degree inspired hers.

Travelling and Dorothy L. Sayers

I’ll be travelling for a few days, but I’ve scheduled blog posts for each day of my absence, so there will be plenty of varied reading matter for regular visitors to ‘Do You Write Under Your Own Name?’ However, it may be difficult for me to access a pc while I’m away, so please forgive me if I take longer than usual to post or reply to any comments.

It’s been a year since I’ve had a real holiday and I have to say that I’m looking forward to this one, even though no doubt – as usual – it will prove all too brief! Today would have been my mother’s birthday; for many years, she came along for the summer holiday, so that we could celebrate with her in style. This is the first time she hasn’t been around, but I’ll be thinking of her. And thinking, also, of the mystery novels in which she and I shared enjoyment for many years.

She was a great Dorothy L. Sayers fan, and so I became one too. Her favourite was Gaudy Night, but mine is a near-tie between The Nine Tailors and Murder Must Advertise. I would also put in a word for The Documents in the Case, a very interesting experiment in mystery writing, if not a complete success. Neither of us cared for Five Red Herrings, a rather plodding mystery, but at least the Galloway setting is well evoked. And I'm honoured to say that I've just been invited to give the 19th Dorothy L. Sayers Lecture next year, as part of the Essex Book Festival, by the Dorothy L. Sayers Society. Not sure what to speak about yet, but plenty of time to prepare!

Forgotten Book - The 31st of February

The advertising business has given rise to a number of very good mysteries. One thinks of that absolute classic, Dorothy L. Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise. And it’s true that a surprising number of novelists have honed their writing talents, like Sayers, on the drafting of advertising copy.

Julian Symons had a spell himself as a copywriter and he used his experience to good effect in my latest entry in Patti Abbott’s series of Forgotten Books, The 31st of February. This book was first published in 1950 and it illustrates the break between the generation of crime novelists who started work after the Second World War and their predecessors.

Symons was an extremely skilled plotter, but he was much more interested in the psychology of crime than many of his predecessors. Ingenuity is put to the service of delineation of character, and the creation of a brooding atmosphere. In this novel, an advertising man called Anderson is responsible for his wife’s death and is pursued ruthlessly by the rather sadistic Inspector Cresse.

Symons explores issues of guilt and innocence, while at the same time creating a mood of tension that spills over into terror. Anderson finds himself in a world of paradox and uncertainty reflected in the notion of a date that doesn’t exist – the 31st of February. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed almost all of Symons’ novels, and although inevitably a little dated, this one is still well worth reading.

Forgotten Book - Testkill

Successful crime novels with a sporting background are rare – Dick Francis’ racing thrillers being a notable exception. Cricket, a complex game that provokes passionate devotion in its fans and baffled boredom in its detractors, features as a background element in quite a number of crime novels, perhaps most famously in Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers, while the gentleman burglar Raffles was a skilled bowler. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a cricketer and huge fan of the game, but sadly he never involved Sherlock Holmes in a cricketing mystery.

My latest entry in Patti Abbott's series of Forgotten Books is Testkill, in which cricket is very much in the foreground. Testkill was co-written by Ted Dexter, a former England cricket captain, and one of the game’s most charismatic figures (‘Lord Ted’ was his nickname, and he played to entertain, unlike many of his contemporaries n the dour 1960s), and Clifford Makins, a journalist. It was first published n 1976 and I devoured it the following year, as soon as Penguin published it in paperback – it was the first book I read when recovering from over-indulgence after my final exams at university, and the light, agreeable mystery definitely assisted the recovery process!

The setting is a Lord’s Test Match, with England playing Australia. When one of the bowlers collapses and drops dead in mid-pitch, it soon becomes apparent that murder has been done. The background is authentically done, and this is the real appeal of the book. The whodunit plot isn’t really in the Christie class, but it’s a breezy thriller, and it achieved enough success to tempt Dexter and Makins to write a follow-up, this time set in the golfing world, called Deadly Putter, which I haven't read. If you fancy a bit of escapism with lashings of cricket lore, Testkill is still worth a read.