Today would have been U.S. President Abraham Lincoln’s 203rd birthday. There’ve been a lot of stories told about Lincoln, some of them true and some of them not. And that’s got me to thinking about how myths about people get passed along. When someone becomes famous or notorious, myths start building up about that person until the myths sometimes matter more than the person does. What’s more, the person behind the myths is almost never the person portrayed in them. But that usually makes the real person more interesting. Just a quick look at crime fiction should be plenty to show you want I mean.
Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot for instance is fully aware of his near-mythical status. In fact if truth be told he likes having that much fame. In Murder on the Orient Express for instance, he is at dinner before boarding the famous Orient Express for its three-day journey across Europe. While he’s eating, he’s approached by an old friend M. Bouc, a director of the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits. Bouc says,
‘‘But you, you are at the top of the tree nowadays, mon vieux!’
‘Some little success I have had, perhaps.’ Hercule Poirot tried to look modest but failed signally.’
The myths about Poirot’s skill at solving crime get new fodder in this story when on the second night of the journey, American businessman Samuel Ratchett is stabbed. Bouc asks Poirot to investigate and he agrees. Readers of Christie’s Appointment With Death will notice a reference to the way Poirot’s reputation is affected by what happens in this story. The reality is though that Poirot as a person is more interesting than his reputation. That’s why a lot of people like the fact that sometimes Christie’s stories are narrated by Captain Arthur Hastings, who shows us what the real Poirot is like, warts and all as the saying goes.
Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe has also achieved near-mythical status. And some of the myths about him (e.g. that he doesn’t leave his brownstone if he can avoid it) are true. Most of Wolfe’s clients don’t really see ‘the real Wolfe’ though. They come to the brownstone, they tell him about their cases and he and his team solve those cases. Other than the fact that he’s irritable and arrogant, lots of people don’t know how much of what they’ve heard is myth and how much is true. But Archie Goodwin knows. And because the Nero Wolfe stories are told from his perspective, we get to see the Nero Wolfe behind the myths. For instance in Too Many Cooks, Wolfe is reluctantly persuaded to go to the very upmarket Kanawha Spa in West Virginia. He’s been invited to address a meeting of Les Quinze Maîtres, the fifteen greatest chefs in the world and as fans of Nero Wolfe will know, there isn’t very much that can induce Wolfe to travel. But this does. Not long after Wolfe and Goodwin arrive, one of the master chefs Phillip Laszio is stabbed. Wolfe refuses to investigate at first but is finally persuaded. In this novel we see some of the man behind the myth. For instance, Wolfe doesn’t refuse to travel out of arrogance; he’s afraid of (or shall we say very uncomfortable with) being on things that move. He’s vulnerable in other ways too and that look ‘behind the myth’ makes Wolfe more interesting.
But of course, having myths passed around about you – even if they’re in praise – isn’t always a good thing. For instance in Katherine Howell’s Silent Fear, Sydney detective Ella Marconi has to deal with the jealousy that myth-building can cause. She’s gotten quite a good reputation for solving difficult cases and word has gotten around. In this novel she and her team are working on the murder of Paul Fowler, who was shot while tossing a football around with a few friends. Another detective John Gerard has been assigned to the team and it turns out that he’s both jealous and malicious. He often refers to Marconi as ‘the great Marconi’ or ‘the great Ella Marconi’ and it’s obviously done spitefully. At first she tries to make clear that she’s no hero and no better at the job than anyone else is. But Gerard keeps up his campaign. In the end, Marconi has almost as much trouble dealing with Gerard’s jealousy and blunders as she does solving the case. Fans of Ella Marconi will know that the real person behind the ‘office myths’ is wrong sometimes, makes mistakes and is certainly not the ‘larger-than-life’ character that the myths would have one believe. But those myths get in the way of everyone seeing that.
We also see a case of myths getting in the way in Wendy James’ The Mistake. Jodie Evans Garrow has what looks like a good life – successful husband, enduring marriage, two healthy children. But then her daughter Hannah gets in an accident. As fate would have it, Hannah is taken to the same hospital where years before, Jodie gave birth to another child Ella Mary. When Jodie goes to visit Hannah, a nurse at the hospital remembers her and asks about the child. Jodie says she was given up for adoption. But when the overzealous nurse looks into the matter, she finds that there are no adoption records to support Jodie’s story. When the story begins to get around, all sorts of questions arise: What happened to the baby? Why aren’t there any records? Did Jodie have something to do with the baby’s disappearance? The more these questions are asked, the more of a pariah Jodie becomes. People begin to believe all kinds of myths about her and matters aren’t helped by the fact that even Jodie’s own mother contributes to the myth-building. In the end, we learn the truth about Jodie’s life and about Ella Mary and the reality of Jodie’s life is much more interesting and more human than the myths about her are.
In Catherine O’Flynn’s The News Where You Are, we are introduced to regional TV presenter Frank Allcroft. He’s happily married and has a good relationship with his eight-year-old daughter Mo. But he’s reached a crossroads in his life. At the same time as he’s trying to figure out his own direction, he’s also coping with the death of his legendary mentor Phil Smedway, who was killed while out jogging. Smedway was also Allcroft’s predecessor at the TV station so his loss has hit Allcroft hard. Everyone thinks the death was a tragic hit-and-run accident. But Allcroft isn’t so sure. He pays a visit to the scene of the accident and discovers that the road there is straight and even. Even an impaired driver should have been able to see Smedway in time to avoid him, and there’s plenty of space on that part of the road for a car to move out of the way. The more Allcroft thinks about it the more he wants to know why Smedway died. As he starts to ask questions, he learns more and more about his mentor, about the myths that had been built up and about the reality behind them. By the end of the novel Smedway becomes a much more interesting person in real life than the myths about him are. Among other things this novel also explores the way myths affect the person behind them.
People who become almost mythological are still people. And if you look behind the legends and myths and stories, you often find that the reality is much more interesting than the myths are.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s Heaven on Their Minds.
There’s a character in Christie’s One Two Buckle My Shoe who has legendary status. Can’t say too much because of spoilers, but he turns out not to be all he’s made out to be….
Very interesting topic Margot, it got me thinking.
Moira – Thanks – and yes you are quite right about that character in One, Two…. As you say, it’s hard to say much without giving away spoilers but you are quite right about that person’s near-mythical status.
One character who certainly has an almost mythic reputation among his fellow police officers, Margot, is Detective Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte of the Queensland (Australia) police. He is greeted with awe and respect by most of the rural and outback police inspectors with whom he works. He boasts that he has never failed to “finalize” a case (though that may not necessarily mean “officially solved”). But he also lives under some threat from that mythic stature – he fears, deeply, that should he ever fail to “finalize” a case, he would lose his grip and his sanity. I think it’s a perfect example of the kind of double-edged sword that “mythic” reputation can be.
Les – It is indeed an excellent example, for which thanks. As you say, on the one hand Bony has become almost mythical in his ability to solve cases. But behind that myth is a real human being who has his vulnerabilities. You could argue that he depends on that myth.
Does Sherlock Holmes.fit this model of mythological detective? He’s certainly an example of a character defined as much by his eccentricities as he is by his talent.
Pat – That’s an interesting point. And of course, Holmes has as many eccentricities as any fictional character I’ve ever read about. What’s even more interesting is that although we learn some things about Holmes from Watson, he’s still in many ways a closed, private character. Conan Doyle had a way of telling only so much but not everything about him.
Margot: I can think of a pair of police officers who have gained mythic status in their police services.
Inspector Gamache (Louise Penny) has gained such renown with the Quebec Surete that every young officer wants to be on his team.
NYPD criminalist Lincoln Rhyme (Jeffery Deaver) has an encyclopedic knowledge of the city.
Bill – That’s very true about both Gamache and Rhyme. And in both cases, we learn that behind the myths are interesting characters – far more interesting than the myths are. I think it’s interesting too that Jean Guy Beauvoir likes to help preserve his boss’ mythical status. It’s a little as though he believes the myths himself despite the fact that he knows Gamache is human.
Western fiction is full of characters with near-mythical status — the cowboy who is so fast on the draw that he is labelled as the fastest gun alive and crimes are pinned on him even though he is miles away at the time. British author Oliver Strange’s evergreen hero James Green aka Sudden, the Texas outlaw, is the most obvious example. I like it when the main fictional characters are larger than life.
Prashant – You know, there really are a lot of mythical figures in Western fiction. Stories are told about them and legends get built up around them. It sometimes gets to the point where it doesn’t matter how true the myths are, people believe them.
Great examples. I’d have to agree with the commenters on Gamache and Holmes, too. The interesting thing is that this mythological status is fairly easy to create in a series…you only have to have other characters comment on it or have the sleuth be embarrassed over it, etc. Simple to do and could be something interesting to play around with.
Elizabeth – Thanks – And I always love the examples that commenters offer. You’re right too that giving a character mythical status isn’t hard to do. A few words of dialogue, an reaction, those nuances are really all it takes. And as you say, the writer can play around with it a little and explore how close those myths come to reality. It’s a handy little tool.
Not directly relevant but when I think of myths and crime fiction I love Agatha Christie’s interpretation of ‘The Labours of Hercules’, especially the first labour – The Nemean Lion. It’s a great concept and her version of a lion, well…
Sarah – Oh, well pointed out! Yes, Christie did a brilliant job with that concept in that collection and that story.
Definitely, Sherlock Holmes is the original mythical genius, who knew and observed everything, and could solve a murder without even leaving his house, just by observing some culprits and/or evidence. Just by looking at a person, he could ascertain the individual’s age, country/region of birth and current resident, means of earning a living, whether married, has children, is educated, etc. So many organizations have been created to honor Holmes and study every word every written about him. And, now, so many books are being written using his character and others in his coterie, like Laurie King’s Mary Russell series. Now a new book has Dr. Watson involved in a crime story set in WWI.
And, the portly, orchid and food-obsessed New York detective is certainly mythic. And so are many of his quotes. One I love where he’s actually showing modesty (for him) is said to his assistant, Archie Goodwin, “Archie, I’m a genius, not a god.”
Of course, there are lots of societies and clubs organized around the West 35th Street brownstone clan.
Kathy – You know, it’s true that Nero Wolfe has indeed achieved mythical status. That’s what I like about the Archie Goodwin character. We see what Wolfe is like behind the myths and that makes him more human. I like that about the way those two interact. But you are absolutely right that to the rest of the world, Wolfe is mythical.
And so, of course, is Sherlock Holmes. I think that’s part of the reason why there are so many societies and other groups that are devoted to that character. His ability to solve crimes is legendary isn’t it?
Yes. Holmes’ ability to use scientific methods to analyze clues and evidence and find the killer is legendary.
And, Nero Wolfe uses many of the same methods as does Holmes, his scientific knowledge, powers of observation, knowledge of history and human psychology (even for a recluse, he could analyze people), and exhaustive (and exhausting) knowledge about murder methods, forensics, etc. He could zero in on an exotic type of poison, grown only in Borneo, for instance. So could Holmes.
Both are true scientific detectives, using as much of science as they could at the time their characters were written.
Kathy – Wolfe is indeed a scientist in his outlook. Among other things he has the scientist’s way of deducing from evidence. He also has no patience for sentiment or muddled thinking, which can make him irascible but at the same time, it’s just that he wants to stick to the facts of a case. That attitude shows his outlook. I think you’re right: both Wolfe and Holmes make use of the science available to them.