From the dust jacket of the first “Behind the ominous walls of Jamaica Court, Anthea Vine ruled as a provincial Queen Elizabeth, imperious and wealthy, vain and pathetic. She lived in an aura of illusion—the illusion of her own fatal charms and her eternal powers of fascination. Her charms, however, proved fatal to none hut herself. For in the town below. while townsmen set their watches by the light in her bedroom window, Florence Pye read in the cards, “Death to an old woman. Her prophesy came true, silently and violently in the depths of the night. What Miss Pye had not foreseen was that she would be the first to find the body. This is a macabre, fascinating story of love, frustration and jealousy bred in the gloomy house on the hill. Anthea held chained to her in financial dependence five discontented souls, all with a motive for murder. Her possessive tentacles reached beyond her three wards, virtually imprisoned at Jamaica Court. They drew into their clutches her secretary, Sally Morgan, and the sardonically charming local doctor. Bumbling inspector Pye barely saved his constabulary reputation, by solving the murder at the eleventh hour with the aid of a Dresden figurine, a missing Chinese vase and a broken teacup. Fate was in the cards but the dénouement is reached with agonizing suspense and sharp surprise. In this new mystery tale humor and excitement, horror and romance are breathlessly combined as only Ethel Lina White can combine them.”
Ethel Lina White was a British crime writer, best known for her novel The Wheel Spins (1936), on which the Alfred Hitchcock film, The Lady Vanishes (1938), was based, and Some Must Watch (1933), on which the film The Spiral Staircase (1946) was based.
Born in Abergavenny, Monmouthshire, Wales, in 1876, White started writing as a child, contributing essays and poems to children's papers. Later she began to write short stories, but it was some years before she wrote books.
She left employment in a government job working for the Ministry of Pensions in order to pursue writing. Her writing was to make her one of the best known crime writers in Britain and the USA during the 1930s and '40s.
Her first three works, published between 1927 and 1930, were mainstream novels. Her first crime novel, published in 1931, was Put Out the Light. Although she has now faded into obscurity, in her day she was as well known as such writers like Dorothy L. Sayers and Agatha Christie.
She died in London in 1944 aged 68. Her works have enjoyed a revival in recent years with a stage adaptation of The Lady Vanishes touring the UK in 2001 and the BBC broadcast of an abridged version on BBC Radio 4 as well as a TV adaptation by the BBC in 2013.
Put Out the Light is a 1931 Mystery novel by writer Ethel Lina White. It has also been printed under the title Sinister Light". I don't know why it was, for some reason people just seemed to have a problem with keeping one name for their books, maybe they still do, I don't read contemporary books. Almost never anyway. Anyway, if you never heard of the novel with either name, that's OK, I didn't either. I never heard of Miss White either. She also wrote, Fear Stalks the Village, Wax, and The Wheel Spins, among others. They are supposed to be some of her most popular books, I'll take their word for it. The Wheel Spins was even made into a movie, but of course they changed the name to The Lady Vanishes in 1938, which seems like an awful long time ago to be making movies, but they were. Miss White was born in Wales, in 1876. White grew up in Fairlea Grange wherever that is, I'll assume it's in Wales, and started writing essays and poems when she was a child and eventually she began to write short stories. Then long after all that she began to write novels, the ones that became movies type. Because a long time after The Lady Vanishes movie Midnight House became a movie called The Unseen for no apparent reason, then Some Must Watch was filmed as The Spiral Staircase and I'm guessing that the stairs the heroine has to run up to get away from the bad guy (which usually happens in movies), is spiral. Well, back to Put Out The Light.
We start with Miss Vine. I can't stand Miss Vine in only a few pages, and unfortunately I have to put up with her for a long, long time. Miss Vine is the owner of Jamaica Court. She is also the owner of a chain of "Dahlia" lingerie shops and of terra-cotta Munster hotels. I cannot picture this awful old woman wearing lingerie and I'm glad I can't. Here's the beginning of our story:
When Miss Vine went to bed she was accompanied by her shadow thrown on the white marble wall.
At first, it was a blurred, servile shape, that slunk behind her, dogging her heel. Then it attained her own stature and grew clearer, keeping pace with her as a friendly silhouette.
But, at the bend of the of the staircase, it changed and became terrible. A monstrous distortion, it shot up - taller and taller - until it leaped over her head and rushed before her, to her own room.
At that moment, Miss Anthea Vine always felt afraid. In the turgid depths of her heart she knew that it was stealing on to search for that other darker shadow, which, one night, would be waiting for her.
There, doesn't that sound like she should be getting murdered by someone, if not a person then a ghost, on the next page? No, she hangs on and on. The chapter ends with something that becomes important eventually:
Every evening, at eleven o'clock, it glowed from out the left wing of the great pile of Jamaica Court. The porters at the hillside station always watched for it, as it was more punctual than their scheduled trains. In addition, it was informative, for it broadcast a parochial news bulletin.
Miss Anthea Vine was going to bed.
At twelve o'clock, to the stroke, the light went out.
Don't worry, she wakes up again in chapter two. And now we meet brother and sister, Mr. and Miss Pye. Mr. Pye is the police superintendent, he is "bull-necked and massive in build, with great cheeks like ripe plums, and choleric blue eyes." And Miss Pye? She is fair, fat, pleasant, and she tells fortunes by reading cards. I can't remember the name of the cards, but this morning she tells her brother, "That's a woman who's going to be murdered." She is speaking of the wonderful Miss Vine, who according to her is "just asking for it." Miss Vine doesn't live all by herself out there, she has three children she adopted from poverty, Charles and Francis Ford, they were her third cousins, and a girl, Iris Pomeroy - an orphan, acquired through an adoption society. That sounds like she's a nice, kind lady right? Well, not quite:
She had surrounded them with luxury and spared no expense over their education. The boys went to public schools, and, later, qualified for professions. But when Charles' name was on the rolls, and Francis had completed his articles with an architect, Miss Vine, apparently, considered her obligation at an end. The boys were forced to put up their plates in Oldtown, the soil of which was already soured with professional men of long standing. As they did not make enough income to pay their office rent, she kept them chained to her side, as her cavaliers and slaves.
When Iris returned from her finishing school on the Continent, she found herself in a hotbed of rebellion and discontent. All three were gifted with strong wills, good looks and plenty of brains. They wanted to spread their wings and lead their own lives; but, whenever they fluttered towards freedom they found themselves hobbled by economic pressure."
So, what could they have done? I know I wanted them to all pack up and move out and go far, far, away from Anthea Vine. I wanted them to make their own living and never depend on her again. But could they have done that? Would it be an easy thing to do? I don't know I never had to try. She is just so mean to them. She is just so horrible. She spends hours putting make-up on and taking it off. She loves to surround herself with men, pretending the men love her, pretending she is still beautiful, if she ever was in the first place that is. She knows no man can resist her, well ok, she has convinced herself of that. It doesn't help the way Charles and Francis obey her every command, and now the young, attractive doctor is doing the same thing. He's in over his head with her, he actually owes her money, he'll never escape, she even hints of marrying him, something that horrifies him. And it's all happening because of her money. They worship her, she thinks so anyway. Remember, she's young and beautiful in her mind, she likes to go down to the lake and look at her reflection in it because it doesn't show the lines and wrinkles. I should try that. Oh, there's a secretary too, she has to go around obeying every command too.
There are other things going on too, we don't have to spend all our time with her. There are robberies happening in the neighborhood, so our Inspector Pye finally has something interesting to do. We follow our bad guy into the house where there is a puppy who can't decide whether to bark at the intruder or go out the now open door, he picks the door, and the robber is safe. It appears that there isn't a lot of crime in their area, and the inspector is rather pleased having a crime happen. And later, more robberies - and a murder! He gets busier than he ever dreamed of. And there are love affairs, of course they have to be secret because if Anthea found out there would be trouble. We also have the woman who owns the local pub and has for years and years, but now Anthea is planning to build a brand new one across the street and putting the other one out of business, the other woman having made this comment:
No, thanks," cried Mrs. Law, with spirit. "No tabby-cat life for me, playing patience with old maids. I'm not old enough for that. After all, my teeth and my hair are my own."
She really wasn't referring to Anthea's teeth and hair, but it fit and now Anthea hates her. So lots of people have reason to want her dead, although there aren't many people willing to kill her, or anyone else for that matter. And who is going around stealing vases and figurines anyway? I feel like I've spent all this time complaining about the book, but I did enjoy it, I just would have killed our main character on those first two pages. I don't know if I'll read it again, but I'll read another one by this author. I was leaning toward 3 or 3.5 stars, but I feel bad because I never heard of this author or her books before, so I'll give her a 4. Happy reading.
The first chapter of this was promising...but ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to like it because most of the characters were so grotesque and unlikeable, and the handful of pleasanter people didn't have nearly enough of a part in the story. I was rather disappointed that essentially disappeared from the story near the end. White's writing seemed meandering, too, compared with the much better Some Must Watch, which I enjoyed very much last year. The solution was pretty ingenious, though I did think left an awful lot to chance.
Ethel Lina White is best known as the author of The Wheel Spins (basis for the movie, "The Lady Vanishes") and Some Must Watch (basis for the movie, "The Spiral Staircase").
Anthea Vine is a self-made woman, probably a millionaire by today's standards. She is arrogant and selfish, using her wealth as a weapon, even against her family. She is vain and acts like she is a great deal younger than she really is. Secretly, though, she suffers from an inferiority complex and is quite paranoid. She is convinced that people are laughing at her behind her back. She doesn't trust anyone and is quite lonely. In a way, I felt sorry for her. Anthea is the most developed character in the book, and a great deal of it is told through her eyes. There is no secret - she is the one who will be murdered. However, the who, how, and why is left for the reader to discover.
I have mixed feelings about this one. It really hasn't aged well, unlike the two novels listed above. Of course, it was published in 1931, so you have to expect some aging, but still...
However, the story is interesting and Anthea Vine, though not likable, is an intriguing character. The supporting characters weren't as well fleshed out, but they serve their purpose. Overall, it is an interesting read, though "The Wheel Spins" and "Some Must Watch" are far better novels.
I'm not in favor of murder as a general rule. I understand that one of the conventions of Golden Age Mysteries was that the murderee be despicable (usually) or expendable (at least.) This relieves the reader of having to feel sorry for the dead person, enabling him to concentrate on unraveling the puzzle of who-dun-it. I get it.
But Anthea Vine is such a pathological stinker that it's impossible not to be frustrated by the dilly-dallying of those who have perfectly respectable motives for offing her. It's hard not to see it as a public responsibility to rid the world of this evil witch.
And yet, she should have been a fascinating, sympathetic character. At a time (1931) when wealthy women inherited their money from fathers or husbands, Anthea started with nothing and clawed her way to a fortune. She acquired her grubstake by a clever combination of embezzlement and blackmail. Then she was off and running, establshing a successful chain of ladies' lingerie shops and an equally successful chain of up-scale hotels. Anthea was a oner.
Like some who achieve great wealth by being obsessed, she's unable to enjoy her success. Her richly furnished mansion is devoid of friends, since she trusts no one. Her expensive beauty regimen and designer clothes give her the appearance (at a distance) of being the lovely young girl she never was. The optical illusion can't make up for the bitterness of never having been desired and sought after as a woman.
The three young people she adopted are of value only as targets for her sadistic games. Charles Ford is a struggling lawyer, lacking the money to move up in his profession and the energy to strike out on his own. Francis Ford is an equally unsuccessful architect, smarter than Charles, but just as apathetic. Iris Pomeroy was raised to be a society beauty, but with no dowery and no money to get away from Anthea, she can't attract a husband.
She's in love with a young doctor, but Anthea wants the medic for herself. Meanwhile, she's making it impossible for him to practice medicine unless he dances to her tune. Another person with a reason to want Miss Vine dead. What's stopping them?
I found out about this author through BLCC's editor Martin Edwards and was astonished to learn that this unknown woman was one of the most popular mystery writers in the 1930's and 40's, both in her native country and in the U.S. A number of her suspenseful thrillers were made into movies, some more than once. Then after her death in 1944, she vanished. Changing tastes? Copyright issues? No family to keep her legacy alive? Makes you wonder which of today's hot authors will be completely forgotten in fifty years.
Two of her books are on the BLCC lists and this isn't one of them. My mania for reading a series in order made me buy it and I paid for my foolishness. The kindest thing I can say is that it was her first mystery and shows promise. She made the usual beginner's mistake of trying to explain her characters instead of letting them explain themselves. A competent editor would have red-penciled a hundred pages to good effect.
I'd give it two stars except for the wonderful family at Cherry Orchard and their contribution to the entertainment. Superintendent Pye is a silly old guffer and about as qualified to investigate a murder as he is to fly an airplane. Heck, he can't even figure out who's breaking into nearby houses and stealing worthless bric-a-brac. The idea of calling in the Metropolitan Police is humiliating and he'll put it off as long as possible
His only fan is his spinster sister Florence, who's adoring enough to counteract the generally poor opinion of the rest of the town. Their widowed sister is the popular owner of an old-fashioned pub/inn, but her living is threatened. If Anthea opens one of her big hotels next door, Doris Law's place will be history. Even more irritating is the knowledge that Anthea is acting out of sheer spite, since the game's not worth the candle to her in terms of potential profit.
These three sturdy antiques (and their maid and the neighbors whose property has been stolen by the amateurish midnight burglar) are wonderful characters. Anthea is horrible and her four young people are worthless, but the oldsters steal the show. In the end, they solve the burglaries AND the murder.
I was an idiot to start with this one, but done is done. There's enough here (along with Martin Edward's enthusiastic endorsement) to make me go on with the series. White's specialty was suspense and (once she got the bugs worked out) she was damned good at it. She was also a better than fair hand at creating interesting characters. She deserves to be remembered, but not for this book.
Elderly Anthea Vine is the ruling force in her household, her profitable enterprises, and her town. She is a shrewd mix of a vanity that has her engaging in a prolonged night-time beauty ritual and persuading herself that the younger men in her orbit are captivated by her, and a cold-hearted practicality that understands that the root of her magnetism is her fortune, a fortune she earned through her chains of lingerie lines, and modest hotels, and that is to be disposed of in her will. Mrs. Vine is a compelling, well-drawn character and easily sustains interest in the first 2/3 of the book, which is fortunate, since it takes that long for the author to kill her off. The suspects are the three young people that she had adopted as impoverished children and kept dependent upon her in adulthood - her distant relations Charles and Francis Ford, and the orphaned Iris Pomeroy - young Doctor Lawrence, whose loans from Anthea have kept him deeply in debt, and Anthea's secretary, Sally Morgan, keeper of Anthea's secrets. The investigation of Vine's murder falls into the hands of Inspector Pye, the local law who has never had a serious case and who has a personal link to the crime: one widowed sister was being pressured by Miss Vine to sell her modest hotel, and the other, though her card-reading, has predicted Miss Vine's death. Unfortunately, as soon as Miss Vine dies, the book falls apart as the investigation takes center stage - incidents never build toward a definitive conclusion; rather than an investigation that offers the reader clues, the pursuit and capture of the killer, the resolution is an out-of-the-blue, after-the-fact summing up by Pye in a conversation with his sister. Very compelling beginning, well-drawn characters but soft on plot, Put Out The Light was the first novel of woman who was one of the best known crime writers of the 30s and 40s.
I tried. I even asked AI if they could predict (given its knowledge of my likes and dislikes) if it would get better, and they advised me to stay with it. None of the characters were pleasant, which is sometimes a bit tricky, but it didn't hurt my enjoy of the marvelous A Confederacy of Dunces any. But none of the characters were interesting, which was more of a problem, and the plot didn't take off (I read about halfway before giving up, so I gave it a good go), but without the interesting sensation of dread that had pervaded her later work. It just lay there, sluggishly annoying, and eventually I gave up on it.
I suspect it's intended to be a mystery or suspense thriller, based on my prior reads of her works, but that's not actually what it was for the first 42% at least ... it was just a not-very-interesting domestic drama. Reminded me of Dinner at Antoines which I also did not care for and did not finish. At least this is an early book, and I know she gets better, so I am hopeful for the ones not yet read.
(5* = amazing, terrific book, one of my all-time favourites, 4* = very good book, 3* = good book, but nothing to particularly rave about, 2* = disappointing book, and 1* = awful, just awful. As a statistician I know most books are 3s, but I am biased in my selection and end up mostly with 4s, thank goodness.)
Possibly because this was White’s first published mystery novel, "Put Out the Light" isn’t quite on par with her later, more-polished works like "The Lady Vanishes" and "The Spiral Staircase" (my reviews of them here and here).
But White does create one truly memorable villain in “Anthea Vine.” Vain, scornful, and sharp as a tack, the wealthy spinster (White’s word, not mine) personifies a 1930s career woman who evokes either empathy or disdain — depending on your perspective, I suppose.
The plot: Anthea rules stately Jamaica Court, where cohabitating relatives and visiting sycophants all kiss her butt in hopes of finding favor in her will.
But someone doesn’t want to wait for Anthea to die of natural causes. And then … whodunit? -- grouchyeditor.com
Drags on at the first because, as noted in forword, author wants to make the victim’s character very explicit. Investigation portion not that great. BUT! The end—especially the last paragraph, makes it all worthwhile.