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Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane #4
The Late Scholar
When Peter discovers that, as the Duke of Denver, he is the Visitor - that is the ultimate regulator - of St Severin's College, and the fellows appeal to him to solve a dispute, he and Harriet, set off happily to spend some time in Oxford, scene of their engagement and wedding.
But the dispute turns out to be embittered.
It concerns a valuable manuscript that some of the fellows regard as nothing but an insurance liability which should be sold to finance a speculative purchase of land. The voting is evenly balanced between the party that would sell and the party that would keep it - evenly balanced, that is, until several of the fellows unexpectedly die.
And the causes of death of the deceased fellows bear an uncanny resemblance to the murder methods in Peter's past cases - methods that Harriet has used i her published novels.
The Warden has a casting vote - but the Warden has disappeared. And everyone involved seems rather more passionate about the decisions than reasons suggests they ought to be.
But the dispute turns out to be embittered.
It concerns a valuable manuscript that some of the fellows regard as nothing but an insurance liability which should be sold to finance a speculative purchase of land. The voting is evenly balanced between the party that would sell and the party that would keep it - evenly balanced, that is, until several of the fellows unexpectedly die.
And the causes of death of the deceased fellows bear an uncanny resemblance to the murder methods in Peter's past cases - methods that Harriet has used i her published novels.
The Warden has a casting vote - but the Warden has disappeared. And everyone involved seems rather more passionate about the decisions than reasons suggests they ought to be.
356 pages, Hardcover
First published December 5, 2013
244 people are currently reading
1697 people want to read
About the author
Jill Paton Walsh
76 books223 followersJill Paton Walsh was born Gillian Bliss in London on April 29th, 1937. She was educated at St. Michael's Convent, North Finchley, and at St. Anne's College, Oxford. From 1959 to 1962 she taught English at Enfield Girls' Grammar School.
Jill Paton Walsh has won the Book World Festival Award, 1970, for Fireweed; the Whitbread Prize, 1974 (for a Children's novel) for The Emperor's Winding Sheet; The Boston Globe-Horn Book Award 1976 for Unleaving; The Universe Prize, 1984 for A Parcel of Patterns; and the Smarties Grand Prix, 1984, for Gaffer Samson's Luck.
Series:
* Imogen Quy
* Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane
Jill Paton Walsh has won the Book World Festival Award, 1970, for Fireweed; the Whitbread Prize, 1974 (for a Children's novel) for The Emperor's Winding Sheet; The Boston Globe-Horn Book Award 1976 for Unleaving; The Universe Prize, 1984 for A Parcel of Patterns; and the Smarties Grand Prix, 1984, for Gaffer Samson's Luck.
Series:
* Imogen Quy
* Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 470 reviews
October 30, 2014
Where I got the book: my local library. The fact that I didn’t buy it is indicative of my uneasy relationship with Jill Paton Walsh’s last Wimsey-Vane book, The Attenbury Emeralds. **SPOILER WARNING** somewhat spoilerish, where I needed to discuss a point and couldn’t do it without giving away what the book’s about. But not very much.
Has anyone else noticed that Paton Walsh has a tendency to make a weak start with these books? There’s an irritating throat-clearing quality to the first half a dozen pages of this one. Exhibit 1, the beginning:
“Great snakes alive!” said the Duke of Denver, sometime Lord Peter Wimsey, famous amateur sleuth.
“What is it, Peter?” asked his Duchess, sitting across from him at the breakfast table.
The Duchess was sometime Lady Peter Wimsey, and before that had been Harriet Vane, detective-story writer, a persion that she still was as often as life allowed her.
YES WE KNOW.
Seriously, Ms. Paton Walsh, do you think anyone but a Wimsey fan is going to read this novel? And even if, perchance, someone were to browse into this book by mistake and decide it’s worth reading, the info about Peter and Harriet could be far more elegantly dropped into the first couple of chapters. Never start a novel with backstory. Of course this is a frequent first-draft tic—I’ve just done it myself, but I took the pages to my writer’s group and confirmed what a Bad Idea they were, and will start the novel with the second chapter instead. We all sort of need to write ourselves back into the story when we’re re-using characters, but these chapters need to be discarded or re-written, and she didn’t. Not nearly as bad a backstory dump as with The Attenbury Emeralds, but still. Sayers would NEVER have done this.
The other thing Sayers never did was dumb things down. She threw in French, Latin, Greek and classical references without any explanation, assuming that the intelligent and educated reader would either know them as a matter of course or look them up in a dictionary. And that was long before the days of the internet. And yet Paton Walsh, whose readers generally have Wikipedia no farther away than their phones, are treated to Exhibit 2:
“I don’t think you mentioned what the codex is a manuscript of?” said Peter.
“Some Dark Ages martyr called Boethius,” said Troutbeck [who is an Oxford don].
Am I the only reader to feel insulted at the assumption that I would never have heard of the Consolation of Philosophy? If anything, it was reading Sayers as a teenager that made me realize the depth and wonder of ancient and not-so-ancient literature. How could Paton Walsh, who I vaguely remember going on record about how reading Sayers made her want to study Eng. Lit. at Oxford, so undervalue the fandom?
Eventually, we wander into a plot where the murders are based on Harriet’s novels, which are in turned based on Peter’s cases, which are of course the stuff of Sayers’ novels. And let’s stop right there. I have a real problem with the implication that Harriet needed Peter to supply her with plots, useful as that might be for Paton Walsh’s storyline. This is a major weakness of the novel in my opinion, particularly since everyone seems to deal with this pattern in a very offhand way at times. Harriet actually spots a massive clue—directly related to the point under discussion—at one juncture and then completely fails to mention it in the next chapter.
And besides, where you have a string of murders like this, the plot needs to be a whole lot more incisive. Paton Walsh sort of pre-empts this criticism, Exhibit 3:
“Whoever he is, he is getting increasingly efficient, and increasingly violent,” said Peter. “Whereas we, I’m afraid, are getting increasingly bogged down and ineffectual.”
And at some point she has Peter and Harriet talk about how in real life, crimes are far more muddled and less clean-cut than in detective fiction. But this IS detective fiction, dammit, and failing to make the effort to come up with a properly delineated plot makes a mockery of the Sayers canon to which Paton Walsh is presumably paying homage.
This seems like an appropriate moment to go off on a tangent about something that’s been bugging me. The copyright to the Sayers characters is held by the Sayers estate, and Paton Walsh, who has some serious literary cred, is the only writer who’s been granted license to use them. Copyright owners, in these cases, usually seem to claim that they restrict the use of characters in order not to let them be twisted and bent into shapes never dreamed of by the original writer, even though you can’t keep a fanfic writer down, if I understand rightly (I’m not a fanfic reader) so it happens anyway, just that nobody makes money out of it. Except E.L. James.
But let’s look at the other great fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, who suffers from far fewer restrictions. Granted, this has resulted in some cringeworthy movies and books, but it’s also given us Mary Russell and Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, to name but two of the more inventive reinterpretations of the character. I argue that by allowing Ms. Paton Walsh to play in the Wimsey-Vane sandbox all by herself (and leaving aside all discussion of the two TV series), the DLS estate isn’t doing readers any favors. I would have been OK with them deciding NEVER to let anybody reproduce the Wimseys in written form, leaving them (as I said in my Attenbury review) to exist forever in the eternal sunshine of a lost world in readers’ minds. But since they’ve decided to sanction some fan fiction, why not open up the field for more contenders?
The only reason I’m giving this book three stars is that there were times I really enjoyed hanging out with Peter and Harriet again. I’m simply that much of a fan. And there were moments when they sounded right, but these moments were constantly interrupted by un-Sayers-like bits that made me wince. It was a bit like listening to someone playing Mozart really well . . . 85 percent of the time. Or maybe 70 percent.
There were more jarring notes than I cared to record: Exhibits 4 and 5 are a character called Stella Manciple turning into Ellen Manciple later in the book, and another character talking about “making emends”—small things, but they point to the lack of the right kind of editor. There were problems with pacing—we spend an excrutiating amount of time on the taking and developing of photographs, for example, but gallop over what should have been one of the best pieces of action in a few briefly sketched paragraphs. There were strange, rambly bits of action that had absolutely nothing to do with the story, but seemed to be mini-research dumps. There was a sort of sex scene, right in the middle of the book, which was frankly more embarrassing than erotic, like walking in on your parents.
I don’t seem able to be brief about this book, so I’m just going to come to a grinding halt right here. Which is kind of what I’d like to happen with this series. Reading these books is becoming a masochistic exercise—pleasurable enough that I find it impossible to keep away, but ultimately painful and humiliating.
Has anyone else noticed that Paton Walsh has a tendency to make a weak start with these books? There’s an irritating throat-clearing quality to the first half a dozen pages of this one. Exhibit 1, the beginning:
“Great snakes alive!” said the Duke of Denver, sometime Lord Peter Wimsey, famous amateur sleuth.
“What is it, Peter?” asked his Duchess, sitting across from him at the breakfast table.
The Duchess was sometime Lady Peter Wimsey, and before that had been Harriet Vane, detective-story writer, a persion that she still was as often as life allowed her.
YES WE KNOW.
Seriously, Ms. Paton Walsh, do you think anyone but a Wimsey fan is going to read this novel? And even if, perchance, someone were to browse into this book by mistake and decide it’s worth reading, the info about Peter and Harriet could be far more elegantly dropped into the first couple of chapters. Never start a novel with backstory. Of course this is a frequent first-draft tic—I’ve just done it myself, but I took the pages to my writer’s group and confirmed what a Bad Idea they were, and will start the novel with the second chapter instead. We all sort of need to write ourselves back into the story when we’re re-using characters, but these chapters need to be discarded or re-written, and she didn’t. Not nearly as bad a backstory dump as with The Attenbury Emeralds, but still. Sayers would NEVER have done this.
The other thing Sayers never did was dumb things down. She threw in French, Latin, Greek and classical references without any explanation, assuming that the intelligent and educated reader would either know them as a matter of course or look them up in a dictionary. And that was long before the days of the internet. And yet Paton Walsh, whose readers generally have Wikipedia no farther away than their phones, are treated to Exhibit 2:
“I don’t think you mentioned what the codex is a manuscript of?” said Peter.
“Some Dark Ages martyr called Boethius,” said Troutbeck [who is an Oxford don].
Am I the only reader to feel insulted at the assumption that I would never have heard of the Consolation of Philosophy? If anything, it was reading Sayers as a teenager that made me realize the depth and wonder of ancient and not-so-ancient literature. How could Paton Walsh, who I vaguely remember going on record about how reading Sayers made her want to study Eng. Lit. at Oxford, so undervalue the fandom?
Eventually, we wander into a plot where the murders are based on Harriet’s novels, which are in turned based on Peter’s cases, which are of course the stuff of Sayers’ novels. And let’s stop right there. I have a real problem with the implication that Harriet needed Peter to supply her with plots, useful as that might be for Paton Walsh’s storyline. This is a major weakness of the novel in my opinion, particularly since everyone seems to deal with this pattern in a very offhand way at times. Harriet actually spots a massive clue—directly related to the point under discussion—at one juncture and then completely fails to mention it in the next chapter.
And besides, where you have a string of murders like this, the plot needs to be a whole lot more incisive. Paton Walsh sort of pre-empts this criticism, Exhibit 3:
“Whoever he is, he is getting increasingly efficient, and increasingly violent,” said Peter. “Whereas we, I’m afraid, are getting increasingly bogged down and ineffectual.”
And at some point she has Peter and Harriet talk about how in real life, crimes are far more muddled and less clean-cut than in detective fiction. But this IS detective fiction, dammit, and failing to make the effort to come up with a properly delineated plot makes a mockery of the Sayers canon to which Paton Walsh is presumably paying homage.
This seems like an appropriate moment to go off on a tangent about something that’s been bugging me. The copyright to the Sayers characters is held by the Sayers estate, and Paton Walsh, who has some serious literary cred, is the only writer who’s been granted license to use them. Copyright owners, in these cases, usually seem to claim that they restrict the use of characters in order not to let them be twisted and bent into shapes never dreamed of by the original writer, even though you can’t keep a fanfic writer down, if I understand rightly (I’m not a fanfic reader) so it happens anyway, just that nobody makes money out of it. Except E.L. James.
But let’s look at the other great fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, who suffers from far fewer restrictions. Granted, this has resulted in some cringeworthy movies and books, but it’s also given us Mary Russell and Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, to name but two of the more inventive reinterpretations of the character. I argue that by allowing Ms. Paton Walsh to play in the Wimsey-Vane sandbox all by herself (and leaving aside all discussion of the two TV series), the DLS estate isn’t doing readers any favors. I would have been OK with them deciding NEVER to let anybody reproduce the Wimseys in written form, leaving them (as I said in my Attenbury review) to exist forever in the eternal sunshine of a lost world in readers’ minds. But since they’ve decided to sanction some fan fiction, why not open up the field for more contenders?
The only reason I’m giving this book three stars is that there were times I really enjoyed hanging out with Peter and Harriet again. I’m simply that much of a fan. And there were moments when they sounded right, but these moments were constantly interrupted by un-Sayers-like bits that made me wince. It was a bit like listening to someone playing Mozart really well . . . 85 percent of the time. Or maybe 70 percent.
There were more jarring notes than I cared to record: Exhibits 4 and 5 are a character called Stella Manciple turning into Ellen Manciple later in the book, and another character talking about “making emends”—small things, but they point to the lack of the right kind of editor. There were problems with pacing—we spend an excrutiating amount of time on the taking and developing of photographs, for example, but gallop over what should have been one of the best pieces of action in a few briefly sketched paragraphs. There were strange, rambly bits of action that had absolutely nothing to do with the story, but seemed to be mini-research dumps. There was a sort of sex scene, right in the middle of the book, which was frankly more embarrassing than erotic, like walking in on your parents.
I don’t seem able to be brief about this book, so I’m just going to come to a grinding halt right here. Which is kind of what I’d like to happen with this series. Reading these books is becoming a masochistic exercise—pleasurable enough that I find it impossible to keep away, but ultimately painful and humiliating.
July 19, 2021
It will not be a surprise to many that – yep, this is a long one.
There's a masochistic tendency in me that I never suspected. Why else would I keep reading what basically amounts to terrible fan fiction about some of my favorite characters? What is this compulsion that makes me keep getting, and reading, these books even though I know it's not going to be pretty?
Because this is classic bad fan fiction, in which the author pulls elements from all the canon works and tries to take ownership of them. It's not always awful, mind you, if the fan author really knows her thing and loves the original source material and, you know, has some skill and a good idea. None of this applies to Jill Paton Walsh's "Lord Peter" books, and they're terrible.
Maybe it's just the enduring wish for more Lord Peter Wimsey. JPW was tapped by the estate. She's an established author in her own right. It should be good. Dammit.
I went into this unspoiled, and this resulted in increasing nausea and irritation – so allow me to spoil you: Lord Peter is called to look into a number of murders and other unpleasant events which have been taking place at and around Oxford which echo some of his cases (although it seems to take Peter and Harriet a remarkably long time to twig to this idea, and they seem remarkably sanguine about it when it finally gels), which Harriet has over the years recycled into novels.
'If the two strange incidents were attempted murders, then the murder methods…'
'Are from cases of yours…' she said.
'Which you have used in detective stories,' he finished.
'Well, after all, Peter,' she said defensively, 'the very first time you proposed to me you offered as an inducement your ability to provide plots for me.'
I need to stop right there and express my disgust with this. Whatever I might think of JPW rehashing all of Lord Peter's cases, Harriet, like JPW, was an established author before Lord Peter came along. She came up with plots all by her little self. Sure, it would be crazy not to make use of Peter's history and knowledge in her writing – but the idea that she "borrowed" his casebook wholesale, basically standing in for DLS and fictionalizing real cases, is wholly and utterly abhorrent to me. She wouldn't do it – and Peter wouldn't want her to. Come on – seriously? The way he felt about the consequences faced by the killers he caught, how could he ever countenance those stories to be turned into potboiler mystery novels? No. Just no.
(I wonder about this Harriet's ability. She mentions "death by sword thrust in my detective story Blades of Hatred", relating it to a current cut throat. 1. A sword thrust ≠ cut throat. 2. That's a really terrible title.)
While Harriet uses Lord Peter to augment her voice, JPW seems to use Harriet to express a few feelings of her own.
'And the review was unfavourable, I take it?' asked Harriet. Gervase seemed to be pondering how to answer. 'After all, though people do take issue with favourable reviews now and then, they don't cause much heat as a rule,' Harriet prompted him.
'It was unfavourable,' said Gervase, 'but unfavourable hardly covers it. It was savage; gleefully exposing errors – alleged errors I should say – and holding the author up to ridicule – ridicule hardly covers it either – accusing him of stupidity and ignorance, and saying it was shameful that such a person should hold an Oxford fellowship or make himself out to be any kind of scholar; it went on in that vein over the page. You get the impression.'
… …
'I'm amazed that the TLS published this,' said Peter. 'It's actionable.'
'Reviewing, however harshly, counts as fair comment,' Harriet said.
'Yes – but this goes beyond commenting on the book and comments on the possible motives of the writer. I'm amazed they let it pass.'
… …
But it is in fact easy to tell when a reviewer is motivated by spite or private axe-grinding. When once that had happened to her she had found herself blithely rising above it; only a reasoned and reasonable assessment of her work had power to hurt; a vendetta could be ignored.
… …
She had once had a severe ticking-off in the Manchester Guardian, in a long review of Murder by Degrees which had stretched down the page. Several friends had congratulated her on it. When she told her publisher about this, deeply baffled, he had replied, 'My dear, never read the things, just measure the column inches!'
Gosh. Is this a commentary on real-life reviewers who expose errors, accuse authors of ignorance, and question authors' motivation? Believe me, nothing I'm writing here or in other critical reviews is in a gleeful spirit.
'I should think it's much easier to mount attacks on people if the piece is unattributed,' said Peter. 'One would think twice about what one said if the words stood above one's signature.'
'That's the whole point, I think,' said Harriet. 'That it enables comment without fear or favour.'
Ah – the plot thins. Not just reviewers are evil, but particularly anonymous reviewers.
'Usually anger and indignation at hostile reviews rage impotently in the void; but once one knew who the reviewer was…'
I'm me, out in the open; that's my name up there. Message me, go on.
I find it hard to be gleeful when characters I've known and loved since I was twelve years old are rendered as ill-formed facsimiles. These people don't talk like those people. "'Oh, jolly D,' said Peter duplicitously" – apparently this was a not-uncommon exclamation, but I've never heard of it in my life, and I don't see Peter saying it. He wouldn't say "Like totally cool" if he were around today, either. "'You are quite right, Harriet. I apologise. It's the piffle habit again.'" This is something I seem to recall from the other JPW books – Peter apologizing (or being upbraided) for the piffle. Which is outrageous. For Peter to be made to feel repentant about piffling is like da Vinci feeling apologetic for doodling.
Also, of course, there's the little fact of this quote from Strong Poison:"If anybody ever marries you, it will be for the pleasure of hearing you talk piffle." Did that little bit of canon get in the way of the fanfic?
'Oh, but now I have met you, Harriet, of course I shall read you,' said George.
'That's such an odd reason for wanting to read a book,' said Harriet. 'If you meet a brilliant doctor, George, do you wish to contract the disease they specialise in?'
That's a non sequitur, and nothing I can imagine Harriet (being a woman of sense) saying, and is therefore another irritant in a book full of them.
These people don't act like DLS's people.
"[Bunter] himself, she knew, thought [sitting to dinner with LPW and family] improper and it made him slightly uncomfortable; he did it only because he knew that she preferred it. This was a form of selfishness in her, she thought, a lack of true courtesy…"
I don't see Peter ever allowing this, if he knew it made Bunter uncomfortable. And in the area of dealing with servants, even Bunter, Harriet would defer to Peter.
Speaking of Peter: he makes a major mistake, apparently, and it results in harm. Why would you do that to him? It's not like him; it is the sort of thing this character would lie awake at night over for the rest of his natural life. It's not a good storytelling decision, in my (very strong) opinion.
"Peter had become very flushed during this account. Harriet, almost shaking with rage herself, recognised this as anger."
WELL DONE! She's so observant, this Harriet.
And my final two-word piece of evidence that these characters' behavior is ��� off: "Peter trotted".
No.
So I do rather wonder at JPW's motivation. I know better than to dismiss her as a NARF ("not a real fan") – but it's hard to think of her as a fan on the same level as my friends and I are. No one I know would do these things to Peter. (For my own future reference if nothing else, here is the JPW quote I know I'll be looking for: "I honestly don’t think Peter is that interesting without Harriet".)
Even apart from my deep distaste for Harriet cribbing from Peter for her books, there's another darn good reason this was a bad idea to hang a book on. It could have been done in such a way as to create suspense and propel the plot onward and upward. This was not that. Instead …
'He's in the Radcliffe Infirmary' – here Charles paused for dramatic effect – 'suffering from arsenic poisoning.'
'I should have expected that,' Peter said. 'I should have known.'
Yes, "Peter" (or whoever you are), you should have known. God knows I did.
The day when my deduction skills are better than Lord Peter Death Bredon Wimsey's is … is the day I'm reading a really bad Wimsey pastiche, is what it is.
There is a disappearance in the book, which seems to offer hope of a little fresh life in the plot, separate from all of the recycled canon. But it kind of goes nowhere.
As a novel, this was not terrible. If the main characters' names had been Lord Robert and his wife Jenny, then I might have enjoyed it – it might be fun as an homage. But the way I rate a book is not on what it might be or how it stacks up to other books in the universe – it's how well it does what it is supposed to do. A really good urban fantasy can earn five stars and sit on the same shelf as Shakespeare, or a really good classic mystery (like a Lord Peter), because it excels at what it set out to do. This purports to be a Lord Peter Wimsey novel. As such, it's very bad indeed.
I was irritated – possibly because I was of a mind to be irritated by everything in this book – by the fact that JPW brought her characters (not DLS's) to the Eagle and Child, but did not give us a Tolkien cameo. On further thought, however, this is a good thing. The woman has her claws into DLS – I'd rather she kept far, far away from JRRT.
Oh – too late:
'Have I heard of this misogynist professor?'
'Didn't you read The Hobbit to the boys during an air-raid?'
'Yes, I remember that.'
'That's him – the Merton Professor is Tolkien.'
I could easily spend another thousand words disputing the (COMPLETELY UNFOUNDED) tag "misogynist" and defending my other favorite author … but instead I think I'll just see that little exchange as the last nail in JPW's coffin for me. No more – that's it – I'm done. This has been one of those books where the rating I gave it initially has been chipped away; I figure if the taste in my mouth that lingers after this much time is this nasty, it's relevant. I will henceforth make an effort to quash my masochistic streak: no more JPW "Lord Peter".
I feel better already.
There's a masochistic tendency in me that I never suspected. Why else would I keep reading what basically amounts to terrible fan fiction about some of my favorite characters? What is this compulsion that makes me keep getting, and reading, these books even though I know it's not going to be pretty?
Because this is classic bad fan fiction, in which the author pulls elements from all the canon works and tries to take ownership of them. It's not always awful, mind you, if the fan author really knows her thing and loves the original source material and, you know, has some skill and a good idea. None of this applies to Jill Paton Walsh's "Lord Peter" books, and they're terrible.
Maybe it's just the enduring wish for more Lord Peter Wimsey. JPW was tapped by the estate. She's an established author in her own right. It should be good. Dammit.
I went into this unspoiled, and this resulted in increasing nausea and irritation – so allow me to spoil you: Lord Peter is called to look into a number of murders and other unpleasant events which have been taking place at and around Oxford which echo some of his cases (although it seems to take Peter and Harriet a remarkably long time to twig to this idea, and they seem remarkably sanguine about it when it finally gels), which Harriet has over the years recycled into novels.
'If the two strange incidents were attempted murders, then the murder methods…'
'Are from cases of yours…' she said.
'Which you have used in detective stories,' he finished.
'Well, after all, Peter,' she said defensively, 'the very first time you proposed to me you offered as an inducement your ability to provide plots for me.'
I need to stop right there and express my disgust with this. Whatever I might think of JPW rehashing all of Lord Peter's cases, Harriet, like JPW, was an established author before Lord Peter came along. She came up with plots all by her little self. Sure, it would be crazy not to make use of Peter's history and knowledge in her writing – but the idea that she "borrowed" his casebook wholesale, basically standing in for DLS and fictionalizing real cases, is wholly and utterly abhorrent to me. She wouldn't do it – and Peter wouldn't want her to. Come on – seriously? The way he felt about the consequences faced by the killers he caught, how could he ever countenance those stories to be turned into potboiler mystery novels? No. Just no.
(I wonder about this Harriet's ability. She mentions "death by sword thrust in my detective story Blades of Hatred", relating it to a current cut throat. 1. A sword thrust ≠ cut throat. 2. That's a really terrible title.)
While Harriet uses Lord Peter to augment her voice, JPW seems to use Harriet to express a few feelings of her own.
'And the review was unfavourable, I take it?' asked Harriet. Gervase seemed to be pondering how to answer. 'After all, though people do take issue with favourable reviews now and then, they don't cause much heat as a rule,' Harriet prompted him.
'It was unfavourable,' said Gervase, 'but unfavourable hardly covers it. It was savage; gleefully exposing errors – alleged errors I should say – and holding the author up to ridicule – ridicule hardly covers it either – accusing him of stupidity and ignorance, and saying it was shameful that such a person should hold an Oxford fellowship or make himself out to be any kind of scholar; it went on in that vein over the page. You get the impression.'
… …
'I'm amazed that the TLS published this,' said Peter. 'It's actionable.'
'Reviewing, however harshly, counts as fair comment,' Harriet said.
'Yes – but this goes beyond commenting on the book and comments on the possible motives of the writer. I'm amazed they let it pass.'
… …
But it is in fact easy to tell when a reviewer is motivated by spite or private axe-grinding. When once that had happened to her she had found herself blithely rising above it; only a reasoned and reasonable assessment of her work had power to hurt; a vendetta could be ignored.
… …
She had once had a severe ticking-off in the Manchester Guardian, in a long review of Murder by Degrees which had stretched down the page. Several friends had congratulated her on it. When she told her publisher about this, deeply baffled, he had replied, 'My dear, never read the things, just measure the column inches!'
Gosh. Is this a commentary on real-life reviewers who expose errors, accuse authors of ignorance, and question authors' motivation? Believe me, nothing I'm writing here or in other critical reviews is in a gleeful spirit.
'I should think it's much easier to mount attacks on people if the piece is unattributed,' said Peter. 'One would think twice about what one said if the words stood above one's signature.'
'That's the whole point, I think,' said Harriet. 'That it enables comment without fear or favour.'
Ah – the plot thins. Not just reviewers are evil, but particularly anonymous reviewers.
'Usually anger and indignation at hostile reviews rage impotently in the void; but once one knew who the reviewer was…'
I'm me, out in the open; that's my name up there. Message me, go on.
I find it hard to be gleeful when characters I've known and loved since I was twelve years old are rendered as ill-formed facsimiles. These people don't talk like those people. "'Oh, jolly D,' said Peter duplicitously" – apparently this was a not-uncommon exclamation, but I've never heard of it in my life, and I don't see Peter saying it. He wouldn't say "Like totally cool" if he were around today, either. "'You are quite right, Harriet. I apologise. It's the piffle habit again.'" This is something I seem to recall from the other JPW books – Peter apologizing (or being upbraided) for the piffle. Which is outrageous. For Peter to be made to feel repentant about piffling is like da Vinci feeling apologetic for doodling.
Also, of course, there's the little fact of this quote from Strong Poison:"If anybody ever marries you, it will be for the pleasure of hearing you talk piffle." Did that little bit of canon get in the way of the fanfic?
'Oh, but now I have met you, Harriet, of course I shall read you,' said George.
'That's such an odd reason for wanting to read a book,' said Harriet. 'If you meet a brilliant doctor, George, do you wish to contract the disease they specialise in?'
That's a non sequitur, and nothing I can imagine Harriet (being a woman of sense) saying, and is therefore another irritant in a book full of them.
These people don't act like DLS's people.
"[Bunter] himself, she knew, thought [sitting to dinner with LPW and family] improper and it made him slightly uncomfortable; he did it only because he knew that she preferred it. This was a form of selfishness in her, she thought, a lack of true courtesy…"
I don't see Peter ever allowing this, if he knew it made Bunter uncomfortable. And in the area of dealing with servants, even Bunter, Harriet would defer to Peter.
Speaking of Peter: he makes a major mistake, apparently, and it results in harm. Why would you do that to him? It's not like him; it is the sort of thing this character would lie awake at night over for the rest of his natural life. It's not a good storytelling decision, in my (very strong) opinion.
"Peter had become very flushed during this account. Harriet, almost shaking with rage herself, recognised this as anger."
WELL DONE! She's so observant, this Harriet.
And my final two-word piece of evidence that these characters' behavior is ��� off: "Peter trotted".
No.
So I do rather wonder at JPW's motivation. I know better than to dismiss her as a NARF ("not a real fan") – but it's hard to think of her as a fan on the same level as my friends and I are. No one I know would do these things to Peter. (For my own future reference if nothing else, here is the JPW quote I know I'll be looking for: "I honestly don’t think Peter is that interesting without Harriet".)
Even apart from my deep distaste for Harriet cribbing from Peter for her books, there's another darn good reason this was a bad idea to hang a book on. It could have been done in such a way as to create suspense and propel the plot onward and upward. This was not that. Instead …
'He's in the Radcliffe Infirmary' – here Charles paused for dramatic effect – 'suffering from arsenic poisoning.'
'I should have expected that,' Peter said. 'I should have known.'
Yes, "Peter" (or whoever you are), you should have known. God knows I did.
The day when my deduction skills are better than Lord Peter Death Bredon Wimsey's is … is the day I'm reading a really bad Wimsey pastiche, is what it is.
There is a disappearance in the book, which seems to offer hope of a little fresh life in the plot, separate from all of the recycled canon. But it kind of goes nowhere.
As a novel, this was not terrible. If the main characters' names had been Lord Robert and his wife Jenny, then I might have enjoyed it – it might be fun as an homage. But the way I rate a book is not on what it might be or how it stacks up to other books in the universe – it's how well it does what it is supposed to do. A really good urban fantasy can earn five stars and sit on the same shelf as Shakespeare, or a really good classic mystery (like a Lord Peter), because it excels at what it set out to do. This purports to be a Lord Peter Wimsey novel. As such, it's very bad indeed.
I was irritated – possibly because I was of a mind to be irritated by everything in this book – by the fact that JPW brought her characters (not DLS's) to the Eagle and Child, but did not give us a Tolkien cameo. On further thought, however, this is a good thing. The woman has her claws into DLS – I'd rather she kept far, far away from JRRT.
Oh – too late:
'Have I heard of this misogynist professor?'
'Didn't you read The Hobbit to the boys during an air-raid?'
'Yes, I remember that.'
'That's him – the Merton Professor is Tolkien.'
I could easily spend another thousand words disputing the (COMPLETELY UNFOUNDED) tag "misogynist" and defending my other favorite author … but instead I think I'll just see that little exchange as the last nail in JPW's coffin for me. No more – that's it – I'm done. This has been one of those books where the rating I gave it initially has been chipped away; I figure if the taste in my mouth that lingers after this much time is this nasty, it's relevant. I will henceforth make an effort to quash my masochistic streak: no more JPW "Lord Peter".
I feel better already.
September 9, 2014
Jill Paton Walsh may not be Dorothy L. Sayers, but this is still a witty, entertaining story and it’s wonderful to have more Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet. This story takes place later than Sayer’s books, after WWII, but fortunately Bunter is still around serving as Lord Peter’s devoted valet. Like Gaudy Night, my favorite Sayers book, the setting is the world of Oxford in all its insular arcane academic glory. St. Severin's College must decide whether it should sell a moldering but valuable ancient manuscript to acquire more land, and it turns out it’s Lord Peter who, through a hereditary appointment, is supposed to cast the deciding vote. This won’t be an easy matter because passions are quite heated and though he will only be dealing with the highly educated Lord Peter is forewarned that people overestimate the power of reason among intellectuals. As Peter certainly knows well already.
It’s been a while since I read Dorothy Sayers, which maybe was an advantage for enjoying this novel, but one difference did stand out to me though I didn’t mind it--I don’t believe Sayers would have let us know that Peter and Harriet spent an afternoon dallying in bed. Rest assured, it’s just a brief, tasteful mention. My only (mild) complaint has to do with an excess of riches. There were so many Oxford fellows who had a vote in the to sell or not to sell the manuscript decision that it was difficult to keep track of who was who and what side they were on. I should have made myself a cheat sheet, but even without it the novel was a delight.
It’s been a while since I read Dorothy Sayers, which maybe was an advantage for enjoying this novel, but one difference did stand out to me though I didn’t mind it--I don’t believe Sayers would have let us know that Peter and Harriet spent an afternoon dallying in bed. Rest assured, it’s just a brief, tasteful mention. My only (mild) complaint has to do with an excess of riches. There were so many Oxford fellows who had a vote in the to sell or not to sell the manuscript decision that it was difficult to keep track of who was who and what side they were on. I should have made myself a cheat sheet, but even without it the novel was a delight.
January 25, 2024
English Mysteries Group Buddy Read of all Lord Peter Stories 2022/23/24 - Final Book 4.5 stars
So this is the final book in the series that has taken us from 2022 through to January 2024, from a young Dorothy L Sayers writing her first Lord Peter story in 1922 ( one hundred years ago) to Jill Paton Walsh picking up the baton with the blessing of the Dorothy L Sayers estate and writing her fourth and final Lord Peter novel in 2013, ninety years after the series started.
They have all in their way been fun and very enjoyable, admittedly some have been better than others, and in my view, this was certainly one of the good ones. Set in the early 1950s, Lord Peter, now 17th Duke of Denver is tasked by tradition to oversee and cast a vote in relation to a problem at one of the Oxford colleges, the fictional St Severins, where the Duke of Denver is the "Visitor of the college".
Accompanied by Harriet his wife, herself an Oxford undergraduate, they arrive at St Severins to find things are even worse than they thought; The Warder has disappeared, some of the recent deaths of the fellows are quite suspicious and the atmosphere in college is in a bad way due to the polarisation of all the fellows over selling a rare book to purchase farmland.
This book depicts extremely well, life in the early 50s and life for the fellows, masters and undergraduates of an Oxford college. I remember how things were in the 60s in Britain and this is not that far removed in time, so in some ways seems familiar to me. In addition I myself was due to go to Oxford in the late 70s, but cried off for various reasons that now seem unimportant. Luckily my middle son put things right and got his MA from Wolfson College as a postgraduate, one of the relatively newer Oxford colleges.
Anyway, as ever His Grace with the aid of Harriet, the ever loyal Bunter and Sir Charles Parker (his brother in law) battle their way through the red herrings and misinformation to a successful conclusion.
I shall certainly miss Lord Peter and the other regular characters, and hope to one day come back to these thoroughly enjoyable novels by these two talented writers.
So this is the final book in the series that has taken us from 2022 through to January 2024, from a young Dorothy L Sayers writing her first Lord Peter story in 1922 ( one hundred years ago) to Jill Paton Walsh picking up the baton with the blessing of the Dorothy L Sayers estate and writing her fourth and final Lord Peter novel in 2013, ninety years after the series started.
They have all in their way been fun and very enjoyable, admittedly some have been better than others, and in my view, this was certainly one of the good ones. Set in the early 1950s, Lord Peter, now 17th Duke of Denver is tasked by tradition to oversee and cast a vote in relation to a problem at one of the Oxford colleges, the fictional St Severins, where the Duke of Denver is the "Visitor of the college".
Accompanied by Harriet his wife, herself an Oxford undergraduate, they arrive at St Severins to find things are even worse than they thought; The Warder has disappeared, some of the recent deaths of the fellows are quite suspicious and the atmosphere in college is in a bad way due to the polarisation of all the fellows over selling a rare book to purchase farmland.
This book depicts extremely well, life in the early 50s and life for the fellows, masters and undergraduates of an Oxford college. I remember how things were in the 60s in Britain and this is not that far removed in time, so in some ways seems familiar to me. In addition I myself was due to go to Oxford in the late 70s, but cried off for various reasons that now seem unimportant. Luckily my middle son put things right and got his MA from Wolfson College as a postgraduate, one of the relatively newer Oxford colleges.
Anyway, as ever His Grace with the aid of Harriet, the ever loyal Bunter and Sir Charles Parker (his brother in law) battle their way through the red herrings and misinformation to a successful conclusion.
I shall certainly miss Lord Peter and the other regular characters, and hope to one day come back to these thoroughly enjoyable novels by these two talented writers.
February 17, 2014
Poor old Dorothy L Sayers. I bet she would have hated what Jill Paton Walsh has done to Lord Peter Wimsey: she's managed to turn him into a bourgeois pedant. Even worse - a boring bourgeois pedant. Sic transit gloria mundi.
April 20, 2017
Having read the last (so far) in the novels featuring Peter and Harriet Wimsey (now the Duke and Duchess of Denver), by Jill Paton Walsh, I feel I have come to the end of a journey. Having stopped, and started, the series many times, I have finally now completed all of the Wimsey books and enjoyed being in the company of the characters created by Dorothy L Sayers. Some of the books I loved, others I liked, but I have not disliked any of them and that is the same for these continuing the series by Walsh.
Peter and Harriet are now living at Denver, with Peter’s elderly, and increasingly frail, mother. One day, to his surprise, Peter receives a letter informing him that he is the Visitor for St Severin’s College, Oxford; and the Duke of Denver is obligated to perform certain functions. These include appointing fellows, a new Warden and also acting as a referee of last resort if there is irreconcilable conflict among the fellows. Now there is, indeed, conflict in St Severin’s. The problems began when the college was offered the chance to acquire land – as the College is in financial difficulties, they need to raise money. This led to the suggestion that they sell an invaluable manuscript, which is costly to insure and keep. This has led to a deep rift in the College and so Peter and Harriet set off to Oxford, accompanied by Bunter, to try to heal wounds and solve the dispute.
This is easier said than done, as the divisions in the College are deep. More worryingly, there have been disturbing incidents since the disagreement erupted – including Dr Dancy being locked in a bell chamber and a Senior Fellow who claims he had an intruder in his room… Will those trying to influence the decision resort to murder? Are they copying methods that have occurred in Harriet’s detective novels and Peter’s investigated crimes?
I enjoyed this novel, set in Peter and Harriet’s beloved Oxford. I felt that the essential characters were there, if changed by time and events. I liked the academic setting and the colourful crimes, which will lead to lovers of the previous novels looking for clues. I hope there will be another in the series as I have enjoyed them all and would be happy to read a new mystery featuring Lord Peter Wimsey.
Peter and Harriet are now living at Denver, with Peter’s elderly, and increasingly frail, mother. One day, to his surprise, Peter receives a letter informing him that he is the Visitor for St Severin’s College, Oxford; and the Duke of Denver is obligated to perform certain functions. These include appointing fellows, a new Warden and also acting as a referee of last resort if there is irreconcilable conflict among the fellows. Now there is, indeed, conflict in St Severin’s. The problems began when the college was offered the chance to acquire land – as the College is in financial difficulties, they need to raise money. This led to the suggestion that they sell an invaluable manuscript, which is costly to insure and keep. This has led to a deep rift in the College and so Peter and Harriet set off to Oxford, accompanied by Bunter, to try to heal wounds and solve the dispute.
This is easier said than done, as the divisions in the College are deep. More worryingly, there have been disturbing incidents since the disagreement erupted – including Dr Dancy being locked in a bell chamber and a Senior Fellow who claims he had an intruder in his room… Will those trying to influence the decision resort to murder? Are they copying methods that have occurred in Harriet’s detective novels and Peter’s investigated crimes?
I enjoyed this novel, set in Peter and Harriet’s beloved Oxford. I felt that the essential characters were there, if changed by time and events. I liked the academic setting and the colourful crimes, which will lead to lovers of the previous novels looking for clues. I hope there will be another in the series as I have enjoyed them all and would be happy to read a new mystery featuring Lord Peter Wimsey.
September 11, 2019
This was going so well, until we get to the end. The ending just didn't work for me at all, it seems a bit vague and wishy washy. Which is such a shame because I was loving it until then.
Don't get me wrong. It's still worth a read. I was just disappointed.
Don't get me wrong. It's still worth a read. I was just disappointed.
December 27, 2013
This is Jill Paton Walsh's fourth expedition into the world of Sayers' characters Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, in in some respects the first flying completely solo, as it were. In Thrones, Dominations she completed an unfinished book. A Presumption of Death incorporated ideas Sayers had already set out. The Attenbury Emeralds described a case mentioned by Sayers but never set down, and introduced some a major catastrophe in the Wimsey family (for which there is a spoiler below, so stop now if you haven't read that book and are likely to).
"The Late Scholar" is, though, Paton Walsh's from top to bottom, apart from re-using the characters and setting. And I think your view of this book is going to depend on whether you want a decent detective story, with the added spice of seeing Peter and Harriet again, or whether you simply want more Sayers. To those in the second group, it just isn't going to happen. Approaching this book with unreasonably high expectations will just set it up to fail, and you should just give it a miss.
If, though, you do want a decent, light(ish), Oxford college based story, in which Peter and Harriet sparkle and exchange literary quotations, we see their boys more grown up, and a slightly less formal relationship with Bunter, then this is the book for you. It's true enough to what Sayers left us that the characters do convince, and one can have a bit of geekish fun spotting how the series of murders follow the methods described in Harriet's books (which were based on Peter's cases, so, in other words, they follow Sayers' books). There are also some in-jokes - some of Sayers' "methods" don't actually work out so we meet a frustrated would-be murderer with a string of failures behind them. We also learn more about (SPOILER FOR ATTENBURY EMERALDS) how Peter has come to terms with being Duke of Denver after the death of his bother in the fire. All of that is fun, less so the rather involved plot and the cast of college characters who I found rather hard to tell apart. But then the same is true of any Morse book (and this does resemble a Morse book in some respects, even if it starts more like one of CP Snow's novels with Peter brought in as Visitor to sort out a mess at St Severin's College).
So - worth reading, but if you don't like the concept of Paton Walsh continuing Sayers' work, then leave it alone.
"The Late Scholar" is, though, Paton Walsh's from top to bottom, apart from re-using the characters and setting. And I think your view of this book is going to depend on whether you want a decent detective story, with the added spice of seeing Peter and Harriet again, or whether you simply want more Sayers. To those in the second group, it just isn't going to happen. Approaching this book with unreasonably high expectations will just set it up to fail, and you should just give it a miss.
If, though, you do want a decent, light(ish), Oxford college based story, in which Peter and Harriet sparkle and exchange literary quotations, we see their boys more grown up, and a slightly less formal relationship with Bunter, then this is the book for you. It's true enough to what Sayers left us that the characters do convince, and one can have a bit of geekish fun spotting how the series of murders follow the methods described in Harriet's books (which were based on Peter's cases, so, in other words, they follow Sayers' books). There are also some in-jokes - some of Sayers' "methods" don't actually work out so we meet a frustrated would-be murderer with a string of failures behind them. We also learn more about (SPOILER FOR ATTENBURY EMERALDS) how Peter has come to terms with being Duke of Denver after the death of his bother in the fire. All of that is fun, less so the rather involved plot and the cast of college characters who I found rather hard to tell apart. But then the same is true of any Morse book (and this does resemble a Morse book in some respects, even if it starts more like one of CP Snow's novels with Peter brought in as Visitor to sort out a mess at St Severin's College).
So - worth reading, but if you don't like the concept of Paton Walsh continuing Sayers' work, then leave it alone.
February 2, 2017
Honestly, it is difficult to be civil about this piece of work.
I will link to an excellent and fairly civil review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
From "small" trifles such as the constant use of first names in every line of dialogue, the dumbing down of every single academic reference or quotation, the bland and insipid characters, the creaky and one-dimensional versions of Peter & Harriet to the unlikely, silly ending, this book has it all. Those who love the original Sayers books will not find any of the qualities that they love here. The reader can never lose themselves in the text nor forget that it is a pastiche.
Every choice made rings empty, cliched, & thoughtless. This entire book sounds like amateur fan fiction rather than the work of a respected (& licensed-by-the-estate) writer. I read it with a friend who also loves Lord Peter and we both were lightheaded with incredulity & rage by the time we had dragged ourselves through it.
I am angry because the basic idea of the setting and plot appealed to me, but I feel like in this work Paton-Walsh betrayed the trust of the readers, the estate, and the characters.
I will link to an excellent and fairly civil review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
From "small" trifles such as the constant use of first names in every line of dialogue, the dumbing down of every single academic reference or quotation, the bland and insipid characters, the creaky and one-dimensional versions of Peter & Harriet to the unlikely, silly ending, this book has it all. Those who love the original Sayers books will not find any of the qualities that they love here. The reader can never lose themselves in the text nor forget that it is a pastiche.
Every choice made rings empty, cliched, & thoughtless. This entire book sounds like amateur fan fiction rather than the work of a respected (& licensed-by-the-estate) writer. I read it with a friend who also loves Lord Peter and we both were lightheaded with incredulity & rage by the time we had dragged ourselves through it.
I am angry because the basic idea of the setting and plot appealed to me, but I feel like in this work Paton-Walsh betrayed the trust of the readers, the estate, and the characters.
May 29, 2016
After her first solo Peter Wimsey-Harriet Vane novel, The Attenbury Emeralds, a most lackluster book, Jill Paton Walsh redeems herself with The Late Scholar. Is it the return to Oxford, evocative of Gaudy Night? Is it the happy couple working hand-in-glove as they did in Have His Carcase and Busman's Honeymoon? Is it a surer hand with her sophomore effort? Never mind which, readers will enjoy The Late Scholar, which rises to the standard of some of the best mysteries penned by Dorothy L. Sayers herself.
Unbeknownst to Lord Peter (as we must continue calling him, despite his much-resented elevation to Duke of Denver), the dukedom comes with yet another unwanted duty: intervening in the affairs of the fictional Oxford college of St. Severin’s as the Visitor, a sort of titled arbiter. He has been summoned because the fellows of St. Severin’s have erupted in heated discord over the proposed sale of a seventh century manuscript in order to finance land speculation at the fringes of Oxford. The vellum manuscript was of The Consolations of Philosophy by the saint for whom St. Severin’s is named, Manlius Severinus Boethius, and possibly glossed in the West Saxon language by King Alfred the Great himself, meaning the book could be worth as much as £500,000. But Lord Peter thinks that the quarreling dons are the least of St. Severin’s College troubles: He begins to suspect that there have been murders and attempted murders —disguised as accidents. With Harriet’s help, Lord Peter tries to discover the killer(s) and what’s really at the heart of St. Severin’s feuding factions. Recommended as a most excellent come-back.
Unbeknownst to Lord Peter (as we must continue calling him, despite his much-resented elevation to Duke of Denver), the dukedom comes with yet another unwanted duty: intervening in the affairs of the fictional Oxford college of St. Severin’s as the Visitor, a sort of titled arbiter. He has been summoned because the fellows of St. Severin’s have erupted in heated discord over the proposed sale of a seventh century manuscript in order to finance land speculation at the fringes of Oxford. The vellum manuscript was of The Consolations of Philosophy by the saint for whom St. Severin’s is named, Manlius Severinus Boethius, and possibly glossed in the West Saxon language by King Alfred the Great himself, meaning the book could be worth as much as £500,000. But Lord Peter thinks that the quarreling dons are the least of St. Severin’s College troubles: He begins to suspect that there have been murders and attempted murders —disguised as accidents. With Harriet’s help, Lord Peter tries to discover the killer(s) and what’s really at the heart of St. Severin’s feuding factions. Recommended as a most excellent come-back.
June 22, 2014
I don't think there is anything trickier than taking up the artistic mantle of a beloved author. Jill Paton Walsh has resurrected Dorothy Sayers' aristocratic sleuth, Lord Peter Wimsey and this is her fourth addition to the Lord Peter literature.
I really loved Thrones, Dominations and The Attenbury Emeralds and expected this book to be equally appealing, but I was disappointed. Lord Peter, Bunter and Harriet were all there---as was the charming Dowager Duchess (Peter's mother) but the sizzle was missing.
The book returned her characters to Oxford and, not unlike Gaudy Night, it was a dark and dangerous place. Despite Paton Walsh's insertion of many Wimsey witticisms, the characters seemed lifeless and predictable, rather than familiar and engaging. There is no doubt that the author has adeptly recreated Lord Peter's world as it is edging into modernity, but there was something important missing for me--and that was enjoyment of the story, the environment, and the characters.
I really loved Thrones, Dominations and The Attenbury Emeralds and expected this book to be equally appealing, but I was disappointed. Lord Peter, Bunter and Harriet were all there---as was the charming Dowager Duchess (Peter's mother) but the sizzle was missing.
The book returned her characters to Oxford and, not unlike Gaudy Night, it was a dark and dangerous place. Despite Paton Walsh's insertion of many Wimsey witticisms, the characters seemed lifeless and predictable, rather than familiar and engaging. There is no doubt that the author has adeptly recreated Lord Peter's world as it is edging into modernity, but there was something important missing for me--and that was enjoyment of the story, the environment, and the characters.
January 19, 2018
Three and a half stars for me...*This is the first iteration for my reading of the Jill Paton Walsh continuation of the Dorothy Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey books I so enjoyed years ago.
It was not quite right for me, somewhat mechanical, but interesting to spend time with the more mature married couple in their roles as Duke and Duchess.
The school atmosphere in Oxford is a deadly one and Peter and Harriet do their best to find out who is behind several deaths and attempted poisoning of the Warden.
The book was too long for the material it covered.
I enjoyed the butler's talents more than the main characters. It was especially fun for me to read the description of his solution to help one struggling scholar by photographing a crucial text and going through the development process to produce a page of proof as this was something I had experience with myself in my younger years.
*I was wrong...I read Presumption of Death in 2014 by this author.
It was not quite right for me, somewhat mechanical, but interesting to spend time with the more mature married couple in their roles as Duke and Duchess.
The school atmosphere in Oxford is a deadly one and Peter and Harriet do their best to find out who is behind several deaths and attempted poisoning of the Warden.
The book was too long for the material it covered.
I enjoyed the butler's talents more than the main characters. It was especially fun for me to read the description of his solution to help one struggling scholar by photographing a crucial text and going through the development process to produce a page of proof as this was something I had experience with myself in my younger years.
*I was wrong...I read Presumption of Death in 2014 by this author.
January 24, 2025
In this playful reimagining of Dorothy L. Sayers' characters set in the 1950s, Peter Wimsey has become the Duke of Denver and Harriet Vane is the Duchess. They work well enough though playfulness is probably the best way of looking at them, as little seems to be taken too seriously as they try and track down the missing Warden of St. Severin's College, Oxford, and are drawn into a murderous web of deceit and financial speculation.
The college fellows are dropping like flies with the means of demise becoming increasingly bizarre. In fact in one case the possible killer would have needed the dexterity of a circus acrobat and the skill of a sling-shot thrower to achieve his objective. It all becomes very convoluted with some sexual shenanigans thrown into the mix, not to mention guest appearances from Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, and it takes all of the Duke and Duchess' powers of analysis and detection to reach a conclusion.
It is quite an enjoyable story, though the improbabilities start to take over fairly rapidly, and the factoids explaining Oxford college life and procedures end up getting in the way of a crime caper. The atmosphere of Britain in the 1950s barely comes across. There are some mentions of the class system being eroded; Bunter, for instance, is allowed to sit at the table with the noble pair though, old school stickler for decorum that he is, his discomfort is obvious. The post war Labour government clearly does not win his Grace's full approval and I don't recall rationing being mentioned or bomb damaged buildings being demolished or restored, and perhaps the overall greyness of urban life that I recall as a child was something everyone accepted as normal without remarking on it.
An OK crime novel that sometimes gets bogged down explaining things. I suppose that comes with the main motive for the killings being a shady land deal in the hands of learned and very corrupt academic gentlemen.
The college fellows are dropping like flies with the means of demise becoming increasingly bizarre. In fact in one case the possible killer would have needed the dexterity of a circus acrobat and the skill of a sling-shot thrower to achieve his objective. It all becomes very convoluted with some sexual shenanigans thrown into the mix, not to mention guest appearances from Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, and it takes all of the Duke and Duchess' powers of analysis and detection to reach a conclusion.
It is quite an enjoyable story, though the improbabilities start to take over fairly rapidly, and the factoids explaining Oxford college life and procedures end up getting in the way of a crime caper. The atmosphere of Britain in the 1950s barely comes across. There are some mentions of the class system being eroded; Bunter, for instance, is allowed to sit at the table with the noble pair though, old school stickler for decorum that he is, his discomfort is obvious. The post war Labour government clearly does not win his Grace's full approval and I don't recall rationing being mentioned or bomb damaged buildings being demolished or restored, and perhaps the overall greyness of urban life that I recall as a child was something everyone accepted as normal without remarking on it.
An OK crime novel that sometimes gets bogged down explaining things. I suppose that comes with the main motive for the killings being a shady land deal in the hands of learned and very corrupt academic gentlemen.
January 4, 2015
Let's be clear from the beginning: Jill Paton Walsh is no Dorothy Sayers. But, with the approval of Sayers' estate, she has done a more than credible job of continuing the partnership of Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane. I've found all of her additions to the series delightful and true to the spirit of Sayers' creation.
In this latest installment, it's 1953, and Peter and Harriet are called back to Oxford when Peter discovers that as the Duke of Denver, he's the official "Visitor" for St. Severin's College (the "visitor" seems to function sort of like the head trustee). St. Severin's is locked in an apparently intractable dispute about whether to sell an ancient manuscript that may have been glossed by none other than King Alfred the Great. Of course, there's more behind the conflict than meets the eye, but that isn't discovered until several fellows are killed in one way or another.
What charmed me about the book, though, was Paton Walsh's depiction of Peter and Harriet's relationship. Their sons are almost ready to go to university, so their marriage has matured and mellowed, but there's still a notable spark between the two of them. Paton Walsh does a lovely job of creating dialogue between the two that is entirely in character with Sayers' conception of the two characters. And of course, they're back in Oxford, the place where (in the wonderful _Gaudy Night_) they finally acknowledged their feelings for each other, so there are lots of allusions to the events and scenes in Gaudy Night.
In fact, the murders themselves take Harriet all the way back to the case that first introduced her to Peter: her own murder trial, when she was falsely accused of having poisoned her former lover. Paton Walsh uses this to demonstrate how far Harriet has come from the hostile, wounded position she was in at the start of her connection with Peter.
But this isn't to say the mystery here isn't important or well constructed: it is. And Harriet even gets a few digs in at her fellow Golden Age writers. Of Agatha Christie, she rightly says, "Mrs. Christie [is] an admirable technician, in many ways, but not perhaps brilliant at conveying subtleties or depths of character. Her work [is] not likely to engage one's sympathy." I could not agree more...which is why I wish more fans of Christie's would discover the work of Sayers (and also of their other contemporaries, Patricia Wentworth, Josephine Tey, Georgette Heyer, Margery Allingham, and Clara Benson)!
In this latest installment, it's 1953, and Peter and Harriet are called back to Oxford when Peter discovers that as the Duke of Denver, he's the official "Visitor" for St. Severin's College (the "visitor" seems to function sort of like the head trustee). St. Severin's is locked in an apparently intractable dispute about whether to sell an ancient manuscript that may have been glossed by none other than King Alfred the Great. Of course, there's more behind the conflict than meets the eye, but that isn't discovered until several fellows are killed in one way or another.
What charmed me about the book, though, was Paton Walsh's depiction of Peter and Harriet's relationship. Their sons are almost ready to go to university, so their marriage has matured and mellowed, but there's still a notable spark between the two of them. Paton Walsh does a lovely job of creating dialogue between the two that is entirely in character with Sayers' conception of the two characters. And of course, they're back in Oxford, the place where (in the wonderful _Gaudy Night_) they finally acknowledged their feelings for each other, so there are lots of allusions to the events and scenes in Gaudy Night.
In fact, the murders themselves take Harriet all the way back to the case that first introduced her to Peter: her own murder trial, when she was falsely accused of having poisoned her former lover. Paton Walsh uses this to demonstrate how far Harriet has come from the hostile, wounded position she was in at the start of her connection with Peter.
But this isn't to say the mystery here isn't important or well constructed: it is. And Harriet even gets a few digs in at her fellow Golden Age writers. Of Agatha Christie, she rightly says, "Mrs. Christie [is] an admirable technician, in many ways, but not perhaps brilliant at conveying subtleties or depths of character. Her work [is] not likely to engage one's sympathy." I could not agree more...which is why I wish more fans of Christie's would discover the work of Sayers (and also of their other contemporaries, Patricia Wentworth, Josephine Tey, Georgette Heyer, Margery Allingham, and Clara Benson)!
December 24, 2013
The Duke of Denver – formerly known to everyone as Lord Peter Wimsey – discovers that one of his inherited duties is as visitor to an Oxford college. St Severin’s finds itself in the middle of an acrimonious dispute over whether or not to sell a valuable manuscript to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might or might not be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. Peter’s task is to make the decision and several of the fellows turn up on his doorstep to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
Peter and Harriet decide to go to Oxford when Peter hears about the disappearance of the Warden of the college and a series of accidents to the fellows. Both of them soon find themselves in a nest of vipers and are doubtful about who they can trust. I loved the Oxford background and the brief glimpses of some of the characters from Dorothy L Sayers’ ‘Gaudy Night’. I also felt that that Jill Paton Walsh has taken Sayers’ memorable characters and developed then in ways which are plausible and satisfying.
Whether or not you like such sequels featuring characters created by other authors is very much a matter of personal preference – I find them entertaining. I found ‘The Late Scholar’ an excellent continuation of the Wimsey novels even though I read it in between reading ‘Murder Must Advertise’ and listening to ‘The Nine Tailors’. I felt it stood up to comparisons with Sayers’ own work very well. Even if some readers do not like the book or feel it does not do Sayers’ characters justice perhaps they need to bear in mind that the author is writing with the co-operation of Sayers’ estate and with their approval.
Peter and Harriet decide to go to Oxford when Peter hears about the disappearance of the Warden of the college and a series of accidents to the fellows. Both of them soon find themselves in a nest of vipers and are doubtful about who they can trust. I loved the Oxford background and the brief glimpses of some of the characters from Dorothy L Sayers’ ‘Gaudy Night’. I also felt that that Jill Paton Walsh has taken Sayers’ memorable characters and developed then in ways which are plausible and satisfying.
Whether or not you like such sequels featuring characters created by other authors is very much a matter of personal preference – I find them entertaining. I found ‘The Late Scholar’ an excellent continuation of the Wimsey novels even though I read it in between reading ‘Murder Must Advertise’ and listening to ‘The Nine Tailors’. I felt it stood up to comparisons with Sayers’ own work very well. Even if some readers do not like the book or feel it does not do Sayers’ characters justice perhaps they need to bear in mind that the author is writing with the co-operation of Sayers’ estate and with their approval.
June 19, 2018
I've never read any of Walsh or Dorothy Sayers books before, but I've fallen in like with her two main characters Peter Whimsey & Harriet Vane.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel). Peter and Harriett have a very charming relationship and a fondness for each other that is quite charming.
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.[1]
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.[1]
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
Paton Walsh writes with the co-operation and approval of Sayers' estate. Highly approve with much enjoyment.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel). Peter and Harriett have a very charming relationship and a fondness for each other that is quite charming.
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.[1]
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Wimsey discovers that, as Duke of Denver, he has inherited the position of Visitor of an Oxford college, St Severin's. The college is in financial difficulties, and is in the midst of an acrimonious dispute between the Fellows over whether or not to sell a valuable codex (a copy of The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius, with glosses which may be by Alfred the Great) to finance the purchase of a piece of land which might be worth a lot of money if planning permission can be obtained on it. The two sides are evenly balanced in numbers, and two of the Fellows appeal to him to resolve the dispute, and before he has even arrived at Oxford, some of the Fellows turn up at his seat at Bredon Hall to try and convince him of the wisdom of either course of action.
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
The Late Scholar is the fourth Lord Peter Wimsey detective novel to be written by Jill Paton Walsh. It was published by Hodder & Stoughton (whose "yellow jackets" are alluded to in the book) on December 5, 2013 in the UK, and on January 14, 2014 in North America.[1]
The Late Scholar features the former Lord Peter Wimsey—now the Duke of Denver—and his wife, the former Harriet Vane, and is set in a fictional Oxford college called St. Severin's, mostly in 1953 (according to internal evidence within the text of the novel).
Peter and Harriet quickly set off for Oxford. But the dispute turns out to be even worse than they had thought, with attempts (some successful) to murder some of the Fellows. The Warden has the casting vote, but he is nowhere to be found. And some of the successful and unsuccessful attacks resemble the murder methods in Peter's past cases—methods that Harriet has used in her published novels.
A side plot concerns the decision of Bredon, the elder son of Peter and Harriet, not to apply for admission to Oxford University—but instead to study estate management at Reading University. While far from stupid, Bredon is not as brilliant as his father, and at Oxford unfavourable comparisons would have been inevitable. Harriet realises that Bredon is not only the son of Peter, but also the nephew of Peter's brother Gerald—who was deeply attached to the land and to the cares of its daily management, in a way which Peter never was.
Paton Walsh writes with the co-operation and approval of Sayers' estate. Highly approve with much enjoyment.
November 15, 2025
I am disappointed with all the reviews critical of this / The reviewers seem to expect a Dorothy Sayers story becausr of the characters. JPW is another author with a different perspective of Peter and Harriet who have matured over the 20 something years since Gaudy Night and Busman's Honeymoon. THey are still the same people but different as we all are in that time ALso they are being viewed from another aspect
All 4 JPW stories have developed from the orifinals and the characters are similar but as expwcted over the lapse of time, slightly changed like the rest of us
I am still not finished with this book yet, 70% and am really enjoying it
I may have more to say when I have finished it. And I rhink I msy start again with Strong Poison!
All 4 JPW stories have developed from the orifinals and the characters are similar but as expwcted over the lapse of time, slightly changed like the rest of us
I am still not finished with this book yet, 70% and am really enjoying it
I may have more to say when I have finished it. And I rhink I msy start again with Strong Poison!
July 23, 2019
This one was even worse than The Attenbury Emeralds. The writing just seemed to get worse and worse - lots of out-of-character speeches and asides, actions that didn't seem right either, and what's worse, gratuitous "look how well I did my history research" name-dropping. The sequence of events was baffling, not in the mystery sense, but rather, how can you go for a drive in the country when you just found another dead body? There were just too, too many examples of "They would never do that". I hope this is the last in the series, because it's starting to feel a lot like exploitation or "catchpenny".
September 1, 2019
I have to confess that I have never read a stand alone Dorothy L Sayers Peter Wimsey novel, I have only read ”Thrones, Dominations” “The Attenbury Emeralds” and now “The Late Scholar”. But between my mom telling me about the Dorothy L Sayers novels and watching all the BBC miniseries based on those books I do know most of Peter Wimseys other cases and earlier events in his life. I feel bad about reading the series in reverse but c’est la vie. For anyone wanting to read this book I suggest reading the earlier books by Sayers because some parts of the plot will be confusing or lacking, making it not as enjoyable as it could be. I give so much credit to Jill Paton Walsh for taking a complicated case in an equally complicated setting with so many characters and yet making everything simple with her style of writing. This also helps to keep all the players on the Chess Board so to speak, remembering who everyone is and how they fit into the story without giving away whodunit. An exciting enjoyable read for any longtime fan of the Wimseys. I loved the interactions between Harriet and Peter. Definitely one of literatures most beloved couples. I can’t wait to read the earlier books. To anyone who is not sure if they want to read the series I HIGHLY suggest watching any of the two BBC miniseries but especially the Ian Carmichael ones. You will not be disappointed.
August 13, 2014
Not a fan. Thrones, Dominations worked; Presumption of Death was carried by the plot; Attenbury Emeralds began to lose any strong Sayers voice, and The Late Scholar is a train wreck that reads like it was rushed to publication without an effective edit. For example, on p. 345 someone says, "We must make emends." I looked it up, and the definition is "Emend means to improve by editing (especially a text)", so I thought, "Okay, this is a scholarly mystery so Paton Walsh was probably using it in a slightly show-offy way to make us think it was a typo but it's really an obscure word that's totally appropriate." HOWEVER: the gentleman in question is NOT discussing editing or improving a written work at all--he really means, "We must make amends." Sloppy work. The whole authorial voice is gone: Peter isn't witty; Harriet isn't controlled and intelligent; the narration isn't understated and insightful. I might need to read a genuine Sayers to get the taste of this one out of my mouth, so to speak. A clear lesson that more is not better. Don't read beyond Presumption of Death.
Also, on p. 355, it says, "Noting saved Boethius for himself," Peter replied." I've read it several times: could it have meant, "Nothing saved Boethius from himself"? I may have blocked out the writing, but I don't remember anyone named "Noting" in the book. . . .
Also, on p. 355, it says, "Noting saved Boethius for himself," Peter replied." I've read it several times: could it have meant, "Nothing saved Boethius from himself"? I may have blocked out the writing, but I don't remember anyone named "Noting" in the book. . . .
June 22, 2014
I found this outing of Lord Peter (now the Duke of Denver) and Harriet Vane serviceable but not inspired. The couple is back at Oxford University, solving a series of increasingly violent happenings at a College were Peter is the hereditary Visitor, something like an ultimate arbiter.
The progression in the lives of Peter and Harriet et al is interesting and I enjoyed the usual bits of this series: Bunter ever present, the Sr. Dower duchess still a delight at 80+, the Jr. Dower Duchess still a snob, etc. The author tries her hand at the scholarly banter that Ms. Sayers was so great at but it just doesn't ring true to my ears (eyes?)
I enjoyed this novel. If it were a mystery onto itself I would have rated it higher, but as a part of the Wimsey cannon, I found it just not quite up to par.
The progression in the lives of Peter and Harriet et al is interesting and I enjoyed the usual bits of this series: Bunter ever present, the Sr. Dower duchess still a delight at 80+, the Jr. Dower Duchess still a snob, etc. The author tries her hand at the scholarly banter that Ms. Sayers was so great at but it just doesn't ring true to my ears (eyes?)
I enjoyed this novel. If it were a mystery onto itself I would have rated it higher, but as a part of the Wimsey cannon, I found it just not quite up to par.
November 22, 2021
I have loved Lord Peter since I first read Ms Sayers books, back in the 70's, and Harriet even more.
I do adore an author who tells me about things I have to look up, and sends me to the dictionary.
Busman's Honeymoon has always been my favorite, but The Late Scholar is close.
I was moved by the mystery, the maturing family and, the lonely woman. The reason for murder is a bit daft. But I forgive it because of the characters.
I cried and laughed, I have rarely enjoyed a book more.
I do adore an author who tells me about things I have to look up, and sends me to the dictionary.
Busman's Honeymoon has always been my favorite, but The Late Scholar is close.
I was moved by the mystery, the maturing family and, the lonely woman. The reason for murder is a bit daft. But I forgive it because of the characters.
I cried and laughed, I have rarely enjoyed a book more.
December 9, 2023
Sorry to finish this as it's the last one. Paton walsh has done a superb job not only replicating Sayers' characters but giving them extended life... To the age of sixty for Peter Wimsey, to be precise, and to the year 1954. On top of that, her mysteries are nicely complex and well tied up.
I am now planning to read Paton Walsh's own detective novels (only another four thereof!) which is a pretty good compensation. I know I will be in good hands.
I am now planning to read Paton Walsh's own detective novels (only another four thereof!) which is a pretty good compensation. I know I will be in good hands.
October 5, 2014
Only ghosts of Sayers, but still reasonable fluff.
February 13, 2018
I loved this book so much. Reading it, I was back in the world of Peter Wimsey. The only reason I didn’t give it 5 stars was because of a few minor issues I had, but overall this book was well-plotted and extremely well-written!
October 24, 2020
Certainly not Dorothy Sayers, but the extensions of Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey novels are more satisfying than some such attempts.
January 13, 2024
This book does not quite meet the high standards set by Dorothy L. Sayers, but it was nevertheless thrilling to spend time with Peter, Harriet, their sons, and Bunter.
June 3, 2014
I don't think this was Paton Walsh's best take on Lord Peter. It relied on the original Sayers books too much (I know, a bit hypocritical, as I'm listening to a continuation on Sayers universe; obviously I'm desperately searching for more of what I love). What I mean is that some aspects of the plot were deliberately echoing things from early Lord Peter books, which became a bit frustrating, especially as it equated Harriet Vane with Dorothy L. Sayers (which Sayers said she disliked) in a way which was occasionally entertainly meta, but mostly annoying. It even occasionally tainted my enjoyment of the original book (I love The Nine Tailors, don't poop on it with logic, Jill, I don't need to hear that).
I also think the exposition relied on Harriet as Peter's intellectual foil far too often. Harriet would say 'but, we don't know that, Peter', and Peter would explain all the things she missed, Sherlock to her Watson. I know that Bunter had occasionally been used in this way in the original books, but in this book Bunter was also a Sherlock (to Peter and Harriet's Watson), and Harriet was reduced to an intellectual sidekick, even when surrounded by Oxford dons and going off to research her academic work on slow days.
As a snap-shot of the 50s as the Wimseys would have known it, it was a strong book. I loved the idea of thinking about the politics of council housing, with estates being established on appropriated land, sitting next to the state of the modern housing crisis. There wasn't a strong sense of rationing (unlike in A Presumption of Death), but the continuation of the decline of the aristocracy, the birth of opportunities for boys (and characters) that didn't go to Eton, and ended up at Oxford, or miss the Oxbridge train altogether. Bunter's eldest wants to be an economist, and go to London School of Economics, and there's discussion of the limitations and isolation of Oxbridge, all of which I liked when reading with an eye on contemporary politics about the same. (However, since we have the benefit of prophetic knowledge by BEING ALIVE NOW, some of Peter and Harriet's musing seemed extremely optimistic. We have hardly moved away from a society where old Etonians run the place.)
The mystery is a little befuddled, and for the most part I didn't learn to care for any of the victims (except a tangentially-related suicide). I'm still not sure on one of the motivations, actually, I think I may have missed a nuance somewhere. In contrast to Gaudy Night, which is such a delight for its restraint in providing unnecessary bodies, this is filled with unnecessary deaths which add to a pattern, but don't seem to have much significance in themselves. The victims are definitely the equivalent of Prostitute #2 at the start of a CSI episode, rather than interesting academics whose names I can remember. Most of the secondary characters blurred into each other, (and were sometimes absurdly coincidental, inexplicably having all the information Harriet or Peter needed) and I only liked a bare few of them. (And, since it was a well-populated Oxford college, there were too many to keep track of, even if I could rely on Sayers for a few like Eilund Price and Marjorie Phelps etc.)
If you're struggling, I felt all the emotional impact from victims (both killed and alive) came in the last hour (15%) of the novel. It wasn't the denouement, necessarily, that brought the impact, but the emotional revelations of a character who is the survivor left after (some of) the deaths. That is probably worth waiting for, if the mystery is sliding by you.
It's a nice listen if you like getting your fix of Lord Peter as an aging man, with mostly-grown children. As a mystery, I don't think it succeeds really, but I'm not a crime fiction afficinado so YMMV. If you haven't listened/read any others of Paton Walsh, I'd recommend The Attenbury Emeralds with a thousand praises, and then meander over to A Presumption of Death, and then the others if they catch your fancy.
I also think the exposition relied on Harriet as Peter's intellectual foil far too often. Harriet would say 'but, we don't know that, Peter', and Peter would explain all the things she missed, Sherlock to her Watson. I know that Bunter had occasionally been used in this way in the original books, but in this book Bunter was also a Sherlock (to Peter and Harriet's Watson), and Harriet was reduced to an intellectual sidekick, even when surrounded by Oxford dons and going off to research her academic work on slow days.
As a snap-shot of the 50s as the Wimseys would have known it, it was a strong book. I loved the idea of thinking about the politics of council housing, with estates being established on appropriated land, sitting next to the state of the modern housing crisis. There wasn't a strong sense of rationing (unlike in A Presumption of Death), but the continuation of the decline of the aristocracy, the birth of opportunities for boys (and characters) that didn't go to Eton, and ended up at Oxford, or miss the Oxbridge train altogether. Bunter's eldest wants to be an economist, and go to London School of Economics, and there's discussion of the limitations and isolation of Oxbridge, all of which I liked when reading with an eye on contemporary politics about the same. (However, since we have the benefit of prophetic knowledge by BEING ALIVE NOW, some of Peter and Harriet's musing seemed extremely optimistic. We have hardly moved away from a society where old Etonians run the place.)
The mystery is a little befuddled, and for the most part I didn't learn to care for any of the victims (except a tangentially-related suicide). I'm still not sure on one of the motivations, actually, I think I may have missed a nuance somewhere. In contrast to Gaudy Night, which is such a delight for its restraint in providing unnecessary bodies, this is filled with unnecessary deaths which add to a pattern, but don't seem to have much significance in themselves. The victims are definitely the equivalent of Prostitute #2 at the start of a CSI episode, rather than interesting academics whose names I can remember. Most of the secondary characters blurred into each other, (and were sometimes absurdly coincidental, inexplicably having all the information Harriet or Peter needed) and I only liked a bare few of them. (And, since it was a well-populated Oxford college, there were too many to keep track of, even if I could rely on Sayers for a few like Eilund Price and Marjorie Phelps etc.)
If you're struggling, I felt all the emotional impact from victims (both killed and alive) came in the last hour (15%) of the novel. It wasn't the denouement, necessarily, that brought the impact, but the emotional revelations of a character who is the survivor left after (some of) the deaths. That is probably worth waiting for, if the mystery is sliding by you.
It's a nice listen if you like getting your fix of Lord Peter as an aging man, with mostly-grown children. As a mystery, I don't think it succeeds really, but I'm not a crime fiction afficinado so YMMV. If you haven't listened/read any others of Paton Walsh, I'd recommend The Attenbury Emeralds with a thousand praises, and then meander over to A Presumption of Death, and then the others if they catch your fancy.
November 8, 2023
Boring and rather all over the place. Jill Paton Walsh is no Dorothy Sayers.
February 10, 2015
Much better than previous efforts.
No embarrassing sex scenes, and no cringing moments between Harriet, her children, and Bunter. No grating class issues either.
The plot is a bit convoluted, and the last 10 pages were unnecessary.
The best moment was an Oxford Fellow grumping about train connections between Cambridge and Oxford by way of Bletchley." What is Bletchley anyway?" he whines. We know that since it is the late '50s, that the Bletchley undercover activity (which Benedict Cumberbatch recently enacted as Alan Turing) is still classified. Nice one, Jill Paton Walsh!
All in all, a creditable advancement of Harriet and Lord Peter through the next few decades! However, I am a little worried about the next book in the series (should there be one, which I expect there will be.) As Harriet and Lord Peter are getting older in each book, do we have a doddering couple to look forward to? As it is, Lord Peter's mother seems to be fading fast (and she will be missed, for sure.)
Jill Paton Walsh spared us the intimate detals of Bunter's marriage to his fellow photographer, with only a few quick references to her. Bunter has kept a remarkably low profile in this book. Harriet gets to put up a defense of her art against the condescending remarks of an Oxford Fellow or too, and Lord Peter having to confront the disinclination of his oldest son to follow in his footsteps to Balliol was interesting, as was Harriet's connection of his preference to that of his late Uncle Gerald.
I would say that Jill Paton Walsh has approached the premise of this time period with intelligence, and some amusing clues of her own to identify the decade for the reader.
No embarrassing sex scenes, and no cringing moments between Harriet, her children, and Bunter. No grating class issues either.
The plot is a bit convoluted, and the last 10 pages were unnecessary.
The best moment was an Oxford Fellow grumping about train connections between Cambridge and Oxford by way of Bletchley." What is Bletchley anyway?" he whines. We know that since it is the late '50s, that the Bletchley undercover activity (which Benedict Cumberbatch recently enacted as Alan Turing) is still classified. Nice one, Jill Paton Walsh!
All in all, a creditable advancement of Harriet and Lord Peter through the next few decades! However, I am a little worried about the next book in the series (should there be one, which I expect there will be.) As Harriet and Lord Peter are getting older in each book, do we have a doddering couple to look forward to? As it is, Lord Peter's mother seems to be fading fast (and she will be missed, for sure.)
Jill Paton Walsh spared us the intimate detals of Bunter's marriage to his fellow photographer, with only a few quick references to her. Bunter has kept a remarkably low profile in this book. Harriet gets to put up a defense of her art against the condescending remarks of an Oxford Fellow or too, and Lord Peter having to confront the disinclination of his oldest son to follow in his footsteps to Balliol was interesting, as was Harriet's connection of his preference to that of his late Uncle Gerald.
I would say that Jill Paton Walsh has approached the premise of this time period with intelligence, and some amusing clues of her own to identify the decade for the reader.
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