Strong Poison (Sayers, 1930)

Dorothy Sayers. Strong Poison (1930) The case that introduced Harriet Vane into Lord Peter Wimsey’s life and turned the series into a combination of crime novel, soap opera, and romance. Vane is on trial for murdering her lover Philip Boyes. As she refused his offer to make an honest woman of her, the jury are more than willing to believe that she’s capable of anything. But Miss Climpson is one the jury, and she refuses to vote for conviction This causes a mistrial, which gives Wimsey one month to dig up the information that will prove Vane’s innocence. He does so by proving another hand administered the poison that killed Boyes.

Wimsey wants to marry Vane, but she refuses him, because she doesn’t want to be beholden to him for saving her life. To Be Continued.

Sayers again uses what was at the time a relatively obscure bit of biology. It’s well enough known now, I think, that the astute reader (me) will figure the method and hence the murderer early on. But the usual Sayers touches of satire and moral insight kept me reading. ***

Deadly 'Shrooms (The Documents in the Case, Sayers, 1930)

Dorothy Sayers and Robert Eustace. The Documents In The Case (1930) “Robert Eustace” suggested the clue that would convict the killer.

The novel is a dossier compiled by Paul Harrison, son of the victim, who is convinced that his father was murdered. The coroner’s jury returned a verdict of death by misadventure, as Robert Harrison was known to forage for mushrooms and other wild edibles. But he was an acknowledged expert, hence the son’s disbelief that he would mistake Amanita muscaria for the edible A. caesaria. The chronological arrangement of news reports, letters and solicited statements makes for a satisfying tension as the characters reveal themselves, and events are seen from several viewpoints. At the centre of the plot is a love triangle between Margaret Harrison, a conventional but romantic young wife married to Harrison, a stodgy older man who’s incapable of expressing his affection for her. Lathom, a painter who rents the floor above their flat, satisfies her desire for romantic fantasy while flattering the husband in his quest for artistic fulfillment. Munsinger, an author who’s notorious for having written a scandalous novel, and school fellow of the painter (and co-renter), becomes an unwilling witness of much of the melodrama.

That Harrison’s death is murder is pretty obvious, but how it was done is not. A wide-ranging discussion about religion and science, and the puzzle of life’s origins, gives Munsinger the clue that solves the puzzle, and the justification for turning in his school fellow.

Well done, with the touches of mild satire and astute moral criticism that I’ve noticed in these re-readings; a satisfying read. Recommended ***

When did he die? (The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, Sayers, 1928)

 Dorothy Savers.  The Unpleasantness At The Bellona Club. (1928) General Fentiman dies at the Bellona Club. But there are couple of details that nag. When Lord Peter learns that the time of death determines who inherits the wealth of the General’s sister, murder seems to be a possibility. Parker does the dull fact gathering that enables Peter to sift the clues by relevance. After multiple misdirections and misapprehensions, the heirs divvy up the money, but you don’t find out until the 2nd last page of the book.

A well done entertainment, with Sayers discovering a taste for satire - gentle satire, but it hits the targets. The chapter titles allude to bridge, which was still a newly fashionable game when Sayers wrote the book. The result is somewhat laboured puns, which I found amusing. She was clearly writing for an audience that wanted a good read to while away a train journey or a few evenings of winter weather. My copy is old and well-worn. When I’ve finished reading the novels, I’ll watch the TV series. ***

Raw Sewage (Ron Cobb, 1970)

 Ron Cobb. Raw Sewage. (1970) The third Ron Cobb collection. I bought this 51 years ago, and have read it many times. It includes the ecology symbol & infographic. Cobb was one of many counterculture people who understood that our consumer economy, created to generate profits, was destroying Earth. They were ahead of their time, and this collection shows that this stance is even more necessary now. None of his books are in print. Highly recommended. The cover and one sample are, I think, enough commentary. 

****

Unnatural Death (Sayers, 1927)

 Dorothy Sayers. Unnatural Death. (1927) Agatha Dawson, a well-off old lady, dies of old age. But Lord Peter doesn’t believe it was a natural death. He enlists the aid of Miss Katherine Alexandra Climpson, one of the legion of single women who represent a pool of untapped talents. She arrives in the village, ostensibly seeking a place for her retirement. She’s Sayers’s version of Miss Marple, and like Miss Marple, Miss Climpson can gather all kinds of useful data simply by doing what old ladies do – gossip and commiserate and share confidences and so on. 

Then a young woman who worked for Agatha Dawson is found dead. From there, a combination of Climpson’s researches, Parker’s police work, and Lord Peter’s snooping lead to the murderer. Along the way, Sayers offers set-pieces of village life, an attempted seduction and murder of Lord Peter, quirky lawyers, and other bits and pieces. These raise the novel above a mere crime-puzzle story. Sayers I think was a frustrated satirist.

I enjoyed this re-read. I knew the solution, and was happy to observe how Sayers placed the clues and misdirections, and how she played with stereotypes to create a believable world. ***

Clouds of Witness (Sayers, 1926)

Dorothy Sayers. Clouds of Witness. (1926) Gerald, Duke of Denver, is charged with the  murder of Lady Mary’s fiancee, whom he has accused of cheating at cards; that naturally means the engagement must be broken off. He refuses to provide an alibi because it would implicate a woman. Wimsey must find the additional evidence that will clear him. He does so, and delivers it just in time to warrant an acquittal.

The title alludes to the enormous amount of information that must be sifted so as to find the gaps in the evidence that Wimsey must fill. He does so with Parker’s and Bunter’s help. There’s also domestic abuse, a cabal of ineffectual lefties, a friend of Lady Mary’s whose appearance at the wrong moment leaves clues that distract, house guests that misinterpret what they see and hear, attempts to shield loved ones from mistaken suspicion, an escape from drowning in a bog, and so on. All’s well that ends well, of course.

Being a duke, Denver must be tried by his peers, in an ancient ceremony set in the House of Lords that requires a good deal of pomp and pageantry. But the evidence that will be presented, which he refuses to refute by providing his alibi, will convict him. Peter’s transatlantic flight through terrible weather succeeds just in time to rescue him.

We get more of Wimsey’s backstory, and see the first phases of Parker’s love for Lady Mary. This thread of romance the Wimsey series (taken up again in Strong Poison) has attracted criticism from readers who object that Sayers is indulging in fantasy. Maybe so, but I like it. ***

100 Malicious Little Mysteries (1981

Isaac Asimov et al, Eds. 100 Malicious Little Mysteries. (1981) A re-read, which I enjoyed perhaps more than the first two times I read this collection. I started about half-way through, and then circled to the beginning until I’d enjoyed all 100 morsels.

Ingenious tales, all of them riffs on the crime novels we know and love, and all of them with a twist of some kind. In most of the tales the crooks suffer some kind of poetic justice, and in most of the rest fate or silly human error mete out justice to nasty people that the law can’t touch. A handful venture into supernatural horror, well-enough plotted, but not to my taste (I find horror and thrillers in general somewhat of a bore).

A few could be used as setups for crime novels.  But most are fables or parables, tales that illustrate their theses and demonstrate their teachings. The mini- or micro tale is a difficult form, and I think undervalued.

Recommended; a keeper. ** to ****