From a Distance*

One of the real challenges of being a sleuth, whether real or fictional, is keeping one’s distance, so to speak, and being objective. Sleuths have to keep a certain amount of distance between themselves and others because it protects them from what they see and sometimes have to do. But on the other hand, a sleuth who never gets close to anyone can quickly become a stereotyped caricature. What’s really interesting is that you can see the way fictional sleuths strike that balance by the way they live. There are a number of fictional sleuths who live alone and like it that way, but who do also have friends, family and romantic partners.

For example, two of Agatha Christie’s most famous sleuths, Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple, do not marry. They live alone and prefer it that way. They keep a kind of distance between themselves and others in that way. And yet, they’re not what you would call isolated. For instance, Christie’s fictional detective Ariadne Oliver is a friend of Poirot’s, and in more than one novel, the two of them help one another on cases. You can see, too, that they like and respect each other. There are other references, too, to friends Poirot has made. For instance, in Hallowe’en Party, Poirot makes reference to his friend Solomon “Solly” Levy, with whom he plans to debate some real-life criminal cases. Instead, Mrs. Oliver brings him an even more intriguing problem. Miss Marple is quite similar in that she lives alone and likes it that way. She, too, keeps a certain distance from others. And yet, she certainly has friends and relations. In fact, in 4:50 From Paddington (AKA What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw!), it’s her friend Elspeth McGillicuddy who draws her into a case of murder and greed.

John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee has a similar balance. He lives alone on a boat called The Busted Flush, and for the most part, he likes it that way. He cares about his clients and isn’t dispassionate about them, but he does keep his distance. And yet, he’s not isolated. In The Empty Copper Sea, he meets Gretel Howard, with whom he falls very much in love and in fact, they marry. Tragically, he loses her in The Green Ripper to a mysterious illness. When it turns out that she was murdered, McGee goes on a vengeful search for her killer. McGee also has other close connections that we learn about in The Lonely Silver Rain, but no spoilers here . McGee also has friends and acquaintances who matter to him, so he’s not what you’d call completely “a loner.” Yet he does generally keep his distance from others.

So, in her way, does Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone. In many ways, Millhone keeps her distance from others. She lives alone and prefers it that way, and she’s not one for a “settled” family life. And yet, that doesn’t mean that she’s isolated. She’s friends with her landlord Henry Pitts and with Rose, the owner of her favourite local restaurant. She’s had romantic relationships as well, including two marriages. She’s able to form bonds with people and she does care about her friends – and her clients. But at the same time, she keeps herself at a certain distance.

That’s also true, you could say, of Andrea Camilleri’s Salvo Montalbano. Montalbano lives alone and most of the time he likes it that way, especially since he’s got his housekeeper Adelina to cook for him. He keeps people at a distance and that helps him in his work, especially since he really does care about the cases he investigates. He’s very much devoted to his job, so he doesn’t make time in his life to get close to people. But that doesn’t mean he’s “a loner.” He has a long-term relationship with Livia Burlando and genuinely does have feelings for her. He also has other close relationships, too, such as his friendships with race-car driver Ingrid Sjostrom and journalist Nicolò Zito. Montalbano is more than sociable enough but even so, he does manage to keep the world at arm’s length.

So does Ely Griffiths’ Ruth Galloway. She’s a forensic archaeologist who lives and works in north Norfolk. On one hand, Galloway is certainly not isolated. She loves her daughter Kate (and her cats), and wouldn’t trade motherhood away. She’s had more than one romantic relationship too. She has friends, too, and does care about them. But she also keeps the world at what you might call arm’s length. She’s not in a big hurry to marry and “settle down.” She likes her house and her life the way they are (although of course, juggling parenthood and her work is a challenge). She doesn’t allow herself to get particularly close to a lot of people, and that’s how she prefers things.

That’s how Kerry Greenwood’s Corrina Chapman is, too. She lives and works in a large Melbourne apartment building called Insula. Insula has more than its share of eccentric and interesting tenants, and Chapman cares about them all. They’ve formed what you could almost call a family. Chapman’s a caring, compassionate person, too, and she does enjoy the company of her friends. She enjoys her relationship with her lover Daniel Cohen, too, as well as the company of her cats. So in that sense, she definitely reaches out to the world. And yet, Chapman lives alone and is content that way. She keeps a certain distance, you might say, even from her friends. She very much likes her private space.

Many really fine fictional sleuths are like that. It’s not that they’re stereotypical “can’t-connect-with-people” loners. Rather, they keep a certain distance between themselves and the world. In part, it’s because of what they have to do and what they see. In part it’s because of their absorption in their work. And the best sleuths are self-confident people anyway. So perhaps there’s also an argument that they are content with themselves as they are. But what do you think? Which of your favourite sleuths keeps this kind of distance (I know I’ve missed out several)?

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a Bette Midler song.