W is for Wishy-Washy Wow with Wroblewski

What I read: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski

Basically, it is Hamlet.

With dogs.

I'm not giving anything away (although I may later) since a blurb on the dust jacket refers to the book as an "American Hamlet." In many ways, it makes a good deal more sense than Hamlet since a troubled fourteen-years-old boy who can't make up his mind is a good deal more understandable than a sulky thirty-three-years-old who can't make up his mind.

And Wroblewski provides magnificent insights into the original characters.

My two problems with the book are that it took forever to hook me, and the book changed from a story that echoed Hamlet to a story that retold Hamlet.

First, the beginning of the book, for me, was very, very slow. It is extremely readable and not dull. But I never would have kept reading if it wasn't my "W" book, and a lady from my book club hadn't recommended it.

I think the style is a matter of personal taste, not good or poor writing. I like to start stories in the middle--bang! This preference can't be blamed on the Sesame Street generation complex, by the way. I grew up without television. Let's face it: preference is just preference. Some people prefer books that introduce them to a person's life and then tell them every single itty-bitty detail about that life: a lot of non-plot romance books fall into this category. Some people prefer books that slowly unwind, inviting them into a world which they can inhabit breathe by breathe, moment by moment. I will confess that Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is one of the few books of this type that I have read and loved. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle falls into this category. I didn't love it, but it is an excellent example of this type of writing.

In any case, as I mentioned before, the reading is painless, so I kept going (slowly). And about 2/3rds of the way through, the plot picked up tremendously, and I finished the book in about two sittings.

So my first problem with the book isn't really a complaint.

The second is. (Warning: spoilers ahead.)

It is fairly easy to parse out which humans and dogs in the novel correspond to what in Hamlet, but the book doesn't read (at first) like an allegory or direct analogy. That is, Almondine doesn't HAVE to represent Ophelia. She can just remind us of Ophelia. Forte doesn't HAVE to be Fortinbras (although his purpose, otherwise, is unclear); he just needs to bring Fortinbras to mind.

Unfortunately, by the time the book hits the 1/2-way mark, it has begun to follow the play pretty closely. It is no longer a matter of the story reminding us of Hamlet. It IS Hamlet, and everything pays off as it does in the play.

This isn't done unintelligently; in fact, Claude's manipulation of Glen really brings home the oily smoothness of Claudius' manipulation of Laertes. But it does make the book feel a tad unorganic. Up to the 1/2-way mark, the book feels entirely organic. What happens happens as a result of a people coming together at a certain point in time. But the end, while not descending into the macabre or the totally contrived, feels like it might just. Soon.

Of course, Hamlet sort of feels this way too (witness audience laughter provoked by the end of Kenneth Branagh's otherwise fascinating Hamlet). Shakespeare didn't have to apologize because he wasn't trying to create American realism. Wrobelewski is. I won't say the effort fails because I don't think it does.

But. Still.

Granted, I think death is a cop-out (again, except in Shakespeare), so I have a problem with a book that pulls you along, bringing together multiple threads and teasing you with occasional variations...and then gives you what you knew happened the first time anyway. Eh? So, it's a little different (I have my own opinion about Essay's choice at the end), but 562 pages! I read 562 pages for a little different?

However, it says a great deal for Wroblewski's ability that I don't considered the time spent a complete loss.

In fact, I can honestly recommend it!

2023: I decided to stick with medieval history reimagined and read Courting Dragons by Jeri Westerson, the first book in a series that presents Will Somers as the detective in the Tudor court. [I recently picked up the second book.]

I enjoyed it! 

Westerson sold me on the court, including the aspect of the Tudor court where people were constantly changing bed partners. She easily presents the setting and time period, as if it is any relatable setting (no mean feat in historical re-imaginings!). 

Her Henry VIII is also quite good, being the young, charismatic Henry VIII of the time of the Great Matter (divorce from Queen Catherine to marry Anne Boleyn). This is the Henry VIII from A Man from All Seasons and The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1970). He is big, intelligent, gifted, attractive, and commands great loyalty (and fear). He is also capable of great self-deception as well as realistic tenderness. 

Robert Shaw's Henry VIII

And she sold me on Will Somers. The fool of the Tudor court, he was a real person and survived Henry and ALL of Henry's children. That is...thoroughly astonishing. 

Westerson presents him as clever, absolutely loyal to Henry (even though he loves Queen Catherine and Princess Mary), moral (making him absolutely trustworthy in his loyalty) and capable of knowing exactly where to draw the line. 

I look forward to the next book! 

V is for Van Dine and Deja VU: The Amateur Aristocratic Detective of the 1920s

What I read: The Scarab Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

S.S. Van Dine's hero, Philo Vance, is remarkably--and I mean, remarkably--like Peter Wimsey (in the early Wimsey novels). Both are of the upper class (Peter Wimsey is of the British aristocracy; Vance is a New York socialite). Both have a deliberately nonchalant way of speaking and say things like, "We're dealin' with a most unusual situation. Somebody translated [the victim] from this world in to the hereafter in a very distressin' fashion." Both have the ability to become serious, when necessary. Both have a friend who plays "straight man" to their overblown personalities (Charles Parker, a police inspector, and Markham, a D.A.). Both have "deceptive upper body strength" (as Colby says to Charlie in Numbers). Both wear a monocle!

In fact, the similarities are so striking that I compared dates. Sayer's first Wimsey novel appeared in 1923; Van Dine's first Vance novel in 1926.

If one were to argue origins, I would have to come down on the side of Sayers. Wimsey is not only more authentic to the Wodehouse/Hugh Laurie/Lord Percy (Tim McInnerny) tradition of over-educated, amusing fops, Wimsey himself is both funnier and more complex than Vance. (Vance, however, made Van Dine a lot more money during his lifetime than Wimsey made Sayers. On the other hand, the Wimsey novels have lasted in a way that the Vance novels haven't. Which is the preferable career?)

I actually think it is possible that both Sayers and Van Dine brought their characters to life at the same time without ever reading each other's works though both were part of the "Golden Age of Mysteries.: They likely at least knew about each other's works.

William Powell played Vance before

and after Thin Man

But it is also entirely likely that there was a zeitgeist--something in the air--that led to the creation of the gentleman detective, Wimsey and Vance.  It's kind of like when every movie studio in Hollywood suddenly decides to do a movie about bugs. Or aliens. It's in the air!

Why amusing fops who investigate crimes would be in the air in the 1920s is something I can't explain off hand. It was the season of the flapper: a sort of jump-start era to the later rock-n-roll era of Elvis and the Beatles. Both horror and murder mysteries were big news. Hitchcock was on his way to making a killing (ha ha ha) as the premier mystery/suspense director in Hollywood.

But Hitchcock relied on Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant for his heroes: the all-American boy and the all-sexy Britisher. 

Another explanation is that the amusing, witty, aristocratic detective was an attempt to meld Holmes (wholly cerebral) with Bertie Wooster (wholly extroverted and quirky). 

To return to The Scarab Murder Case, it is a bit slow, being more focused on "railway tables" (so to speak) than on human motives.  The mystery is more about whowentwherewhen than relationships. The subject matter is interesting: ancient Egyptian history. The solution is fairly unimpressive. (Agatha Christie did this particular mystery problem better.)

2023: I read the first Philo Vance, The Benson Murder Case. I was confirmed in my reaction that Van Dine is a "mechanics" murder mystery writer. Every chapter is headed with a date and time. Each chapter reveals more about the mystery's forensics or timing. 

Van Dine also focuses on the "surprise" or whodunit. Sayers spends more time on "how" a murder was committed though interestingly enough both Van Dine and Sayers make the same point: without overwhelming evidence, one can make an argument against anyone for just about any reason. Consequently, although the climax of The Benson Murder Case--breaking the primary suspect's alibi--is quite exciting, most of the chapters focus on the less exciting matter of "then we go here and question this person."

Sayers not only focuses more on people and "how," she is also funnier and less prone to "telling" than Van Dine. Van Dine (the writer and the narrator) tells readers exactly what they are supposed to think about Vance and everyone else, in exhaustive detail. In comparison, Sayers' first book starts with Wimsey already in motion. We readers learn about him from his behavior and conversation. Although he is lightly rendered in the first book, he yet reveals a more substantive character, as when he confesses to Charles Parker that he likes the beginning of a case when it is just a puzzle but finds it more difficult to proceed when he begins to actually know people. Charles robustly tells him that he is focusing more on his attitude--his pose--than on the truth, and he needs to grow up and cut it out. 

Van Dine portrait by his brother.

Vance in Van Dine's first book will become stern and occasionally, when necessary, kind. But it's hard to spot anything else beyond the surface behavior. Interestingly enough, although Hollywood presents Vance as...well, William Powell, Vance of the book is presented as someone that people will perceive as possibly homosexual. Since Vance is also entirely heroic, such a choice for a mainstream series is rather impressive for the time period.

Another notable difference between Sayers and Van Dine is that Van Dine presents a full body of police officers (not one close friend to the detective). I got the impression that Van Dine actually wanted to write Blue Bloods! (Nearly all of Van Dine's books were made into films when he was alive.) 

But the zeitgeist referenced above was all about the so-called amateur detective, so the amateur detective is what Van Dine supplied.