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The Pavilion
Regan Carr, a young orphan, is invited to live with her rich cousin, Hurst Herald, but she arrives at his mansion only to learn that he has been murdered
- GenresMystery
279 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1946
About the author
Hilda Lawrence
18 books3 followersHilda Kronmiller Lawrence was a mystery writer. She worked in the clipping department of Macmillan Publishers, and as a reader to the blind. She published her fiction under her married name, Hilda Lawrence.
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
January 6, 2020
I really enjoyed this atmospheric novel from the forties. Regan, whose mother has died only a month before, decides to visit her Uncle Hurst at his request, as both remember the simpatico relationship they had when she was a small child. But by the time Regan arrives at the Herald family mansion, Hurst is already dead and she is left to fend for herself among his family, his in-laws, and some household servants. At the same time, Regan gradually becomes aware that there is an event in her own past here that she's so far managed to suppress.
The creepy old house has an equally creepy bunch of inhabitants and I enjoyed Lawrence's skill at bringing them to life. Although Lawrence was an American writer and this story is set in a small town on the Eastern seaboard (I think), her characters remind me of certain eccentrics that spring up in British crime fiction--I'm thinking particularly of the earlier work of Margery Allingham.
Cousin May was old, Regan knew that. Older than Hurst, nearly seventy, she thought. But the white hair curled youthfully about her soft face , and foamed and frothed into curls around her jeweled ears. Her round cheeks quivered as she held out her hand.
Regan advanced, full of pity when she saw how each step forward robbed Cousin May without mercy. When she reached the outstretched hand she saw an old, old woman, hiding under a shell of pink powder.
Regan teams up with her considerably older cousin Fray, who does most of the real detective work in the story. But Regan's gradual and intuitive understanding of the situation felt convincing to me and I admired the way Lawrence was able to pull this off.
My copy of this book is an old Penguin Crime series book with the distinctive green spine. I was surprised that GoodReads doesn't offer that particular cover as a choice, as it must have been fairly common at one point. And Lawrence herself seems a little hard to track down. She wrote other crime fiction, though not a lot, and you would think there would be more reviews and interviews from her day. In fact, the only Wikipedia article I found on her is in French.
I have to admit a particular pleasure in discovering a writer I like who is not currently much remembered. More than with such perennially popular writers as Christie or Sayers, I feel that, against all the odds, a talented author has managed to breach the chasm of time and speak to me directly.
The creepy old house has an equally creepy bunch of inhabitants and I enjoyed Lawrence's skill at bringing them to life. Although Lawrence was an American writer and this story is set in a small town on the Eastern seaboard (I think), her characters remind me of certain eccentrics that spring up in British crime fiction--I'm thinking particularly of the earlier work of Margery Allingham.
Cousin May was old, Regan knew that. Older than Hurst, nearly seventy, she thought. But the white hair curled youthfully about her soft face , and foamed and frothed into curls around her jeweled ears. Her round cheeks quivered as she held out her hand.
Regan advanced, full of pity when she saw how each step forward robbed Cousin May without mercy. When she reached the outstretched hand she saw an old, old woman, hiding under a shell of pink powder.
Regan teams up with her considerably older cousin Fray, who does most of the real detective work in the story. But Regan's gradual and intuitive understanding of the situation felt convincing to me and I admired the way Lawrence was able to pull this off.
My copy of this book is an old Penguin Crime series book with the distinctive green spine. I was surprised that GoodReads doesn't offer that particular cover as a choice, as it must have been fairly common at one point. And Lawrence herself seems a little hard to track down. She wrote other crime fiction, though not a lot, and you would think there would be more reviews and interviews from her day. In fact, the only Wikipedia article I found on her is in French.
I have to admit a particular pleasure in discovering a writer I like who is not currently much remembered. More than with such perennially popular writers as Christie or Sayers, I feel that, against all the odds, a talented author has managed to breach the chasm of time and speak to me directly.
February 27, 2020
A departure for me, as I don't normally read mysteries. (For some reason, I thought it was a horror novel. Could have had something to do with the, "Sinister, screaming horror...almost unbearable suspense!" quote on the cover.) It was enjoyable, with decently drawn characters and an easily-followed plot, but I just have trouble with the whole, "don't trust anyone! Keep everything to yourself! Your life could be in danger! That moth is looking at you funny." thing. Think I should probably just avoid mysteries.
September 3, 2017
When Regan Carr’s mother passes away from illness, the young woman is hard-pressed. Her part-time job as a small town librarian for $25 a week (roughly equivalent to an $8/hr job in 2017) is not sufficient to cover the doctor’s bills and other expenses of her mother’s final days, let alone allow her to live in any sort of comfort. So when a letter arrives from her distant (and wealthy) cousin Hurst Herald, asking her to live with him, Regan decides to give it a try.
But when Regan arrives with her meager possessions, Hurst Herald is dead. And he evidently hadn’t told the rest of the family she was coming, so the relatives view Regan with suspicion. There are those who seem glad to see her; Miss Etta, a kleptomaniac pensioner who was an old friend of Hurst’s, and the Crain sisters, elderly maids who appreciate Regan’s kindness. The relatives warm up a bit when she proves her arrival was expected, and Regan is given an out-of-the-way room for the moment.
This novel is in the Southern Gothic tradition, featuring a dysfunctional family with dark secrets living in a fine mansion that is beginning to decay. It’s a slow burn in many, many ways–it’s halfway through before Regan realizes that the family’s history of tragic accidents doesn’t include any actual accidents. Much depends on her suppressed memories of what happened in the pavilion out back of the house during her childhood visit.
Regan is a petite woman, who looks even more childlike than her age of twenty-two. A running gag is her bunny slippers, a rare splurge purchase for the poverty-stricken lady. In a more action-packed story, she would be the damsel in distress type, but the menace here is more subtle, hidden between the lines of seemingly innocuous conversations.
The slow burn serves the story well most of the way through. There’s a particularly chilling scene where one character’s previously comical behavior is revealed to be the result of psychological abuse as a child. This does, however, mean that the last chapter needs to wrap everything up in a bit of a rush, with the murderer’s identity confirmed by elimination in the final paragraphs.
The viewpoint is mostly Regan’s, but we do have moments seeing the thoughts of other characters. For example, one of the maids daydreaming about working for a less strict employer so she wouldn’t have to set her alarm clock an hour ahead to keep her job, and worrying every day that they will notice the difficulty she has getting up the stairs. (Towards the end she talks about her and her sister’s fear of ending their days in a charity ward.)
There’s a touch of period racism; the family has no black servants because (the housekeeper thinks) they’re superstitious and don’t react well to summons from empty rooms. African-Americans appear in scene descriptions, but none are relevant to the plot.
This is an atmospheric book that will reward the patient reader. My 1960s copy is in rough shape; you might be able to find the 1980s reprint in better condition.
But when Regan arrives with her meager possessions, Hurst Herald is dead. And he evidently hadn’t told the rest of the family she was coming, so the relatives view Regan with suspicion. There are those who seem glad to see her; Miss Etta, a kleptomaniac pensioner who was an old friend of Hurst’s, and the Crain sisters, elderly maids who appreciate Regan’s kindness. The relatives warm up a bit when she proves her arrival was expected, and Regan is given an out-of-the-way room for the moment.
This novel is in the Southern Gothic tradition, featuring a dysfunctional family with dark secrets living in a fine mansion that is beginning to decay. It’s a slow burn in many, many ways–it’s halfway through before Regan realizes that the family’s history of tragic accidents doesn’t include any actual accidents. Much depends on her suppressed memories of what happened in the pavilion out back of the house during her childhood visit.
Regan is a petite woman, who looks even more childlike than her age of twenty-two. A running gag is her bunny slippers, a rare splurge purchase for the poverty-stricken lady. In a more action-packed story, she would be the damsel in distress type, but the menace here is more subtle, hidden between the lines of seemingly innocuous conversations.
The slow burn serves the story well most of the way through. There’s a particularly chilling scene where one character’s previously comical behavior is revealed to be the result of psychological abuse as a child. This does, however, mean that the last chapter needs to wrap everything up in a bit of a rush, with the murderer’s identity confirmed by elimination in the final paragraphs.
The viewpoint is mostly Regan’s, but we do have moments seeing the thoughts of other characters. For example, one of the maids daydreaming about working for a less strict employer so she wouldn’t have to set her alarm clock an hour ahead to keep her job, and worrying every day that they will notice the difficulty she has getting up the stairs. (Towards the end she talks about her and her sister’s fear of ending their days in a charity ward.)
There’s a touch of period racism; the family has no black servants because (the housekeeper thinks) they’re superstitious and don’t react well to summons from empty rooms. African-Americans appear in scene descriptions, but none are relevant to the plot.
This is an atmospheric book that will reward the patient reader. My 1960s copy is in rough shape; you might be able to find the 1980s reprint in better condition.
July 5, 2018
Having read Death of A Doll and thinking it was a wonderful mystery novel (my favourite non-Agatha Christie that I've read), I was excited to read another Hilda Lawrence but dubious it would live up to the first. This was also absolutely gripping, and I've decided I just really enjoy Lawrence's writing style, which is descriptive and beautiful, and the book created a tangible tension throughout which made the wait for revelation almost painful. The ending did not quite live up to this anticipation and some of the reveals felt as if they needed slightly more explanation. Furthermore, the murderer's motivations and the murders themselves were slightly unconvincing and I expected a better explanation than I received.
The dynamic between the two protagonists was not particularly appealing to me, and I didn't like Fray very much - I thought he was very patronising to Regan and I wish she had been given more of an active role in the ending to prove his condescension wrong.
Overall, a really enjoyable book, built on tension and oddness with an ending that, whilst not entirely satisfying compared to the rest of the book, certainly doesn't decrease the joy of the rest of the novel like so many mystery novels do. The ending did make sense even if it was not quite explained well enough, and was written in as lovely a way as the rest of the novel.
The dynamic between the two protagonists was not particularly appealing to me, and I didn't like Fray very much - I thought he was very patronising to Regan and I wish she had been given more of an active role in the ending to prove his condescension wrong.
Overall, a really enjoyable book, built on tension and oddness with an ending that, whilst not entirely satisfying compared to the rest of the book, certainly doesn't decrease the joy of the rest of the novel like so many mystery novels do. The ending did make sense even if it was not quite explained well enough, and was written in as lovely a way as the rest of the novel.
March 2, 2023
Back to this 1940s classic murder mystery for a study in how to creep people out without actually showing anything. The "murders" (and it isn't until late in the novel that murder is established) occur off stage and mostly far in the past. Further quirk, the mysteries are solved but the murderer is never actually named by the author. Had to re-read the last chapter twice but, yep, that too is off stage and all the creepier for it. This could also be labeled romantic suspense but the romance is a bit chilly and slightly unsettling to modern readers. So why read this book not once but twice and keep it on the shelf between readings? Because the opening is a classic and the clues, as strange and bizarre as they end up being, are all there so that the reader, if not the main characters, can name the murderer.
September 13, 2020
The atmosphere is the best part of this book. If you like a spooky, maze-like house with an abandoned outbuilding, foggy grounds, and creepy shoreline, this is the book for you. But Lawrence almost kills the tension by drawing out the climactic scene (really, it should happen in the Pavilion, not in the dining room). The book suffers from unwieldy characterizations (May and Fray in particular) (May and Fray?), structural problems (why drag out the diary entries? why not open the gift from Etta immediately, knowing how she steals?), and the fact that Regan is annoyingly feckless and vague. But it works OK.
If you read Rebecca, you'll get an idea of the kind of book this wants to be. If you want to read Hilda Lawrence, read Death of a Doll instead.
If you read Rebecca, you'll get an idea of the kind of book this wants to be. If you want to read Hilda Lawrence, read Death of a Doll instead.
Want to Read
February 17, 2020Synopsis: a young woman finds her uncle dead and, upon looking into his past, well-concealed murders. A sense of dread prevails.
February 1, 2018
For my full review click on the link below:
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...
September 10, 2018
I haven't been able to track down the original publication date , but I read this in the mid 1970's - not 1984.
August 9, 2016
Very well written with plenty of suspense until the end. It seemed the author tried to tie up all loose ends in too much of a hurry. It leaves several key points unclear.
October 13, 2021
Like all of Lawrence's, this is so cleverly written than while your flesh creeps you're hardly aware of the exact nature of the lurking horrors. Outstanding.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews