Martin Edwards's Blog, page 33

'We Know You're Busy Writing': The Collected Short Stories of Edmund Crispin

 

Edmund Crispin (in real life Bruce Montgomery) is one of the few writers of traditional mysteries who has remained consistently in print since his first novels appeared in the early 1940s. Quite an achievement, and certainly a testament to the entertainment value of his fiction. Recently, HarperCollins have reprinted his novels in new paperback editions so attractive that I've even looked on The Glimpses of the Moon, his last novel, much more benignly than I had done previously. Now, as the icing on the cake comes the publication of his collected short fiction.

This handsome book takes its title from my favourite Crispin short story, 'We Know You're Busy Writing,' which I included in the British Library anthology Murder by the Book a year or two back. Among my other favourites is 'Who Killed Baker?', which Crispin co-wrote with his pal and fellow musician Geoffrey Bush.

Two Crispin collections, Beware of the Trains and Fen Country, have been available for many years, but here the stories about Gervase Fen are helpfully separated from the 'stand-alone' stories. What's more, this volume also includes four stories not in those two books, which have in recent years been brought to our attention by Tony Medawar in his collections of little-known traditional mysteries. Of these, 'The Hours of Darkness' is especially compelling.

I was delighted to see a very good set of sources at the back of the book, most useful for researchers. All in all, this is a terrific book. If you haven't read Crispin before, and in particular if you're a fan of short stories, you're in for a treat.

Forgotten Book - The Party at No. 5 aka The Cellar at No. 5

I've often written about my enthusiasm for the novels of Shelley Smith. She was an ambitious writer, who was always keen to do something different, and that approach (while not necessarily conducive to great commercial success) and the flair with which she pursued it meant that she was one of the most impressive British crime writers of the 1950s. I regret the fact that her books aren't more widely known.

The Party at No.5, which dates from 1954, offers a good example of her skill and economical and effective literary style. It's essentially a novel about character, about the vagaries of human nature. It's also a book which is about women and the relationships they have with each other. The male characters (including a solicitor whose grasp of the law struck me as very shaky) only have minor parts, although they are depicted with Smith's customary cool insight and wit.

Mrs Rampage is an elderly woman with a rambling old house in London. Actually, by modern standards I don't think she is really ancient, but attitudes to older people were different then, in a rather depressing way. She is persuaded to take in as a sort of companion-helper a woman called Mrs Roach. Mrs Roach is, on the surface, a very pleasant and caring individual who has an unrequited longing for a younger woman, Eleanor, who is stuck at home with her aged father. But the two women don't hit it off and although Mrs Rampage becomes increasingly dependent on Mrs Roach, her unpleasantness towards the other woman is a catalyst for crime.

This isn't a whodunit, but I found it a highly suspenseful read. Smith's prose is clear and engaging and her depiction of the way that relatively minor character flaws can lead to very damaging consequences is compelling. It's a tribute to her gifts that although I didn't much like either of the two lead characters, I became intrigued by them and wanted to know what their fate would be.    

Death at Wolf's Nick by Diane Janes

When I was up in Berwick recently, Lindsay Allason-Jones kindly gave me a copy of Death at Wolf's Nick by Diane Janes. I've not seen Diane for ages, but we've been on panels together in the past, and she is one of those writers who has achieved success both with fiction and non-fiction. I've mentioned her several times on this blog, for instance in relation to her book about the . This book is another of her in-depth true crime studies, and it deals with a case that remains unsolved to this day, that of Evelyn Foster.

I was already familiar with the case, because many years ago I read Julian Symons' discussion of the case in an essay in Beyond Reasonable Doubt, which is an interesting book, though one of his less well-known publications. Diane doesn't mention it in her book, so I'm unsure what she made of it, or whether she's aware of it. But she does deal at some length with a previous study of the case, by Jonathan Goodman, who was a noted criminologist. Suffice to say that she doesn't think much of his research.

The death of Evelyn Foster was strange, sad, and deeply disturbing. She was a youngish taxi driver based in Otterburn, Northumberland, a lovely place, but also a rather lonely part of the world on a wintry night. One night, she took a passenger in rather odd circumstances, and was later found, badly burned, as was her car. The story she told about what happened was not, however, believed by the police (who come in for a lot of criticism in this book).

Diane's research is impressive, with reams of important detail about timings and local geography. Her theory about what happened seems plausible, if not proven. It's an extraordinary case. I'd have liked to get a fuller understanding of Evelyn's personality, and those of one or two of the other key players in the story, and also what happened to them in later years, but perhaps Diane felt restricted by the material that was available and verifiable. An interesting book, well worth reading if you're keen on true crime.

Marv Lachman R.I.P.

I was very sorry to learn a few days ago that Marv Lachman, the highly respected American author and commentator on crime fiction, has died. A few weeks ago, Marv sent a poignant email to a number of his friends in the crime writing world, indicating that he was in a poor state of health and didn't expect to live much longer. I was truly saddened to receive it, because we have known each other for the best part of 30 years and have had some good times together at conventions. He was also extremely supportive of my own writing, both the novels and the non-fiction. Like all the best critics, he was constructive, insightful, and shrewd, but also generous when he judged it appropriate.

One of our very first encounters in person was at the Nottingham Bouchercon in 1995, when Marv and I, along with the great short story writer Ed Hoch and my fellow Brit Sarah J. Mason took part in a Mastermind quiz (Sarah and I had previously taken part in one at the London Bouchercon in 1990, along with Jim Huang and Tony Medawar). The above photo is taken from Marv's book about crime fandom, The Heirs of Anthony Boucher; he noted wryly in the caption that he only appears to be asleep!

That book is excellent, and so are his books about mystery plays and the American Regional Mystery (he inscribed the latter to me, saying that I should write the British Regional Mystery - maybe one of these days!) He was also an incisive commentator, not least for Janet Rudolph's Mystery Readers Journal and George Easter's Deadly Pleasures. At Bouchercon in San Diego, just a day or so after Marv had sent us his email, George paid a marvellous tribute at the opening ceremonies to Marv which was absolutely spot on. See also George's online tribute here and Janet's here

I enjoyed all my conversations with Marv, and also met his wife Carol once or twice. The last time we met was at yet another Bouchercon, in Dallas. He was in good form, then, and I have a number of happy memories of our various encounters. He will be sadly missed.

Forgotten Book - Crack of Doom

Leo Bruce's Crack of Doom is a Carolus Deene story dating from 1963. When published in the USA, it was retitled Such is Death - I can't imagine why. I'm working my way slowly through quite a number of the Deene books and this one boasts his trademarks - heavy on dialogue and with some nice, if light touches of characterisation. I particularly enjoyed a vicar who is keen on criminology and wants to assist Carolus.

There are two features of the book which make it especially worthy of note. First, some of the action takes place at Christmas. Second, and perhaps more significantly so far as the storyline is concerned, the setting is one that always exerts a great appeal to me (and, I guess, many othe readers) - an out-of-season English seaside resort.

The story opens with an extract from the journal of someone who wants to commit a motiveless murder. The idea of the motiveless murder has long appealed to me and it can work very well in a crime novel. Here, I think Bruce came up with a very neat plot idea, but although this novel has quite a bit of merit, I'm not sure he made the best possible use of it. 

One reason why I was slightly disappointed is this: I don't think that the culprit, as presented in the novel, is easily reconciled with the author of the journal. Another reason is that the solution is presented in a rather tame way, and the coda to the story isn't quite as effective as it might have been. Both these flaws could, I believe, have been addressed by strong editing. Perhaps Bruce was in too much of a rush. However, it's still quite an entertaining story, even if - with such  pleasing ingredients - it could have been more powerful. 

The Life of Crime wins the Macavity Award

I'm delighted to report that The Life of Crime has won the Macavity award, given by Mystery Readers International, for the best critical/non-fiction book. This is the third time I've won a Macavity and The Life of Crime has received four awards in all (the others are the Edgar, the Anthony, and the CrimeFest H.R.F. Keating award) as well as being shortlisted for two more. 

It's been a unique year for me in terms of honours of this kind. It feels quite surreal, so much so at the moment that I'll save further comment for another day, when I've had time to think about everything that has happened. But I must say right now how grateful I am to those who have voted for The Life of Crime as well as to those who have given it such wonderful reviews - and of course, everyone who has read it! 

The paperback edition will come out next May. More about that on another occasion. Meanwhile, I'm off to celebrate!

All the Lonely People - in Spain and elsewhere...

All the Lonely People is a book that has a special place in my affections, as its appearance way back in 1991 marked the fulfilment of a lifelong ambition to become a published crime novelist. And now, 32 years later, the novel is due to appear in a Spanish translation, published by Who Editorial. I've written a new intro for this edition.

I always hoped that my novels would have staying power, and this book has done very well for me over the years, starting with reviews in The Times and elsewhere and a nomination for the CWA award for best first crime novel. There were, if I remember rightly, seven nominees and the ultimate winner was Walter Mosley's Devil in a Blue Dress - not bad company to be in. In the UK alone, it's been published over the years by Piatkus, Transworld, Hodder, Andrews/Acorn, and Arcturus, so it's certainly had longevity.

Of course, one's writing changes (and, with any luck, improves) over the years, and there's no doubt that if I were writing the story today I'd write it a bit differently. But I like to think that in some ways ahead of its time, both in its focus on minority characters and on Golden Age plotting and references. Not that these features attracted any attention back in the 1990s! One thing that gratified me enormously a while back was when a school librarian told me that the book had become very popular at the school. Given that the pupils were born many years after the book was written, I felt this said something about the story. It's a young man's book, and imperfect, but I remain very glad I wrote it. 

So my sincere thanks go to the Who team for showing faith in Harry Devlin's relevance to their readers in the 21st century. In case you're wondering, the English language edition of the book (see the cover image below) is very much available in print or as an ebook And in answer to a question I'm often asked - will Harry ever return? My answer is - you never know!

Word Monkey by Christopher Fowler

Regular readers of this blog will know I was saddened by the death, far too young, of  , who was as entertaining a companion in real life as he was on the page. However, he did leave, in addition to a notable body of work, quite a bit of material that was still to be published. And I was delighted to read his final memoir, Word Monkey, posthumously published a short time ago.

There is so much here to enjoy. It's not a short book, but it's immensely readable and I devoured it quickly. It's a very poignant read, because among other things it deals with Chris's cancer diagnosis, but it's definitely not a misery memoir. 'Life-affirming' is a cliche, but it suits this book well.

Chris was very widely read and there's a lot of stuff here about books, including quite a lot I didn't know and was glad to learn. There are also some fascinating observations about the writing life, a subject naturally of great interest to both of us.

For Golden Age fans, there is an extremely enjoyable chapter titled 'In the Library with a Candlestick' (disclaimer: I get a mention in it)  One doesn't have to share all Chris's opinions to find his views on this subject, as on many others, interesting and often persuasive. I was reminded again of my regret that, although he and I had quite a number of conversations, there weren't many more. Strongly recommended.

Forgotten Book - The Westwood Mystery

A. Fielding was a mystery writer who was very, very mysterious. He (or she) wrote more than twenty detective novels, published by Collins (who didn't bother with minor writers) between 1924 and 1937 yet nobody seems to know who he (or she) was. Even the ace researcher John Herrington, who has investigated Fielding extensively, ran into a series of dead ends. The consensus seems to be that Fielding was a woman, although on the evidence of the 1932 novel The Westwood Mystery, I wouldn't be startled to learn the author was in fact a man.

I haven't bothered with Fielding until now, because I had a feeling that the books were of a second-rate humdrum type. However, I came into possession of Anthony Berkeley's own copy of this book, and thought I must give it a go. This novel definitely has a number of pleasing ingredients. The concept for the plot is pretty good and there are a few nice touches of wit. Overall, though, I found the story frustrating because I didn't feel the ingredients were mixed with sufficient skill. 

There are two strands of story. The first involves a barrister, Sir Adam Youdale, who is skilled at defending people who are apparently guilty. The second involves a dodgy businessman called Fox, who specialises in exploiting gullible women for financial gain. Youdale is found murdered at his home, Westwood, but for some time Fox drops out of our sight as Inspector Pointer pursues his inquiries.

Berkeley pencilled some notes in the book and it's clear that he had reservations similar to mine. 'Rather heavy going in the middle', for instance, is spot on. I'm rather baffled as to why the book is so disjointed, because it does seem to me that Fielding could have improved this story by structuring it differently. Possibly it was written in too much haste. Yet there is enough merit in the writing for me to be interested in reading more of Fielding's work.   

The Long Shadow - ITV review

The Long Shadow is hardly an original title - I reviewed Celia Fremlin's novel with the same title earlier this month - but it's apt for the seven-part 'true crime drama' which is currently showing on ITV. It deals with the serial killings of Peter Sutcliffe, who was known as 'the Yorkshire Ripper', but George Kay's scripts focus very deliberately on the victims and the investigators (some of whom, for all their failings, might also be described as victims of Sutcliffe) rather than on the killer himself.

I have a special interest in this case because I lived in Leeds at the height of the crisis over the murders. They overshadowed everything, and affected everyone. An old schoolfriend of mine, one of the gentlest people you could meet, who had moved to the area, told me he was interrogated by the police - not once ,but twice, which must have been frightening. This was because he was gay and he'd been visiting gay clubs and bars in Leeds, which were in the 'red light' district being targeted for intensive surveillance. There's no doubt that the police worked very hard at trying to solve the crimes. But their approach was flawed in several respects and as a result, although Sutcliffe was interviewed several times, he slipped through the net. The Long Shadow highlights this mercilessly but, I think, fairly.

The biggest mistake was to believe that the hoax letter and tape purporting to be from the Ripper were genuine. An advertising agency for which my firm acted gave the police a vast amount of free advertising to make sure everyone heard the tape. Sadly, it helped Sutcliffe to continue with his crimes. The hoaxer was discovered many years later thanks to DNA testing. He was a pathetic alcoholic called John Humble, and he went to prison and subsequently died. What he did was truly appalling. Humble, not the misguided detectives, was in effect Sutcliffe's accessory.

Any show that dramatises real life needs to be treated with caution. But from my experience, I'd say The Long Shadow gets most things right. If anything it underplays the fear that everyone felt. I remember getting off the bus home one night, and a middle-aged woman I didn't know begged me to walk her home because she was afraid of the Ripper. For a moment, she wondered if I was to be trusted (though Sutcliffe's crimes began when I was still at school) and I could imagine how many innocent people, like my gay friend, must be coming under suspicion. I became friendly with her and saw how deeply affected she was by the murders. On another occasion, I arrived back in Leeds after a train trip to see my girlfriend to find that a bus strike had begun. I couldn't afford a taxi, so I found myself walking home through the dark streets of Harehills and Chapeltown, wondering if the Ripper was anywhere near. It was eerie and unsettling and I'll never forget it. The sheer uncertainty about what might happen wore down everyone in the city, and indeed much further afield.

Sutcliffe and his enigmatic wife Sonia, who is still alive, hardly feature in the TV series. There is proper and respectful focus on the victims and the senior police officers are key to the storyline. Toby Jones is as good as ever as the honourable Dennis Hoban, while David Morrissey tackles the challenging role of Norman Oldfield with his customary brilliance. It is a really nuanced performance, because Oldfield was not a bad man, even if he did make serious mistakes. Michael McElhatton is excellent as Ronald Gregory, the chief constable who was again well-intentioned, but didn't cover himself in glory, to say the least. I wonder what the families of the police officers made of the show - this hasn't been the subject of as much discussion as the impact on the families of the murder victims. Those victims are, as far as I can judge, very well portrayed, with Katherine Kelly outstanding as Emily Jackson.  

It's not easy to handle material like this sensitively and yet make a series compelling viewing. But I think The Long Shadow succeeds.