Now Everything is Oh, so Cozy*

Mystery novelist and fellow blogger Elizabeth Spann Craig’s Knot What it Seams   was released in February. That’s the second in her series featuring retired art gallery professional Beatrice Coleman. And Rubbed Out, the fourth in Craig’s Memphis Barbecue series (which she writes as Riley Adams) is due to be released in less than a month. I’m very happy for her success, as I think she’s very talented. It’s also got me thinking about the appeal of cosy mysteries. They’ve been a part of the crime fiction scene for a long time, and they are consistently popular with a lot of readers. Of course, everyone likes one or another kind of novel for different reasons. But here are a few of my ideas as to why cosies are as popular as they are.

Many of them feature amateur sleuths and readers who like to identify with the protagonist find amateur sleuths especially appealing. For instance, Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman is a normal, if I can put it that way, person. She’s not a cop and frankly, she’s not even eager to investigate mysteries. She’s a baker and that’s her real professional passion. She’s also not fashion-magazine beautiful. She’s one of ‘the rest of us,’ and that makes her accessible. Of course, the series features interesting characters and solid plots too, as well as a really effective Melbourne setting. But all that aside, Chapman is a ‘regular’ person. Now, not everyone might call this a cosy series because it does get a little edgy at times, but it ‘counts’ for me. Your mileage as the saying goes may vary.

Mike Befeler’s Paul Jacobson is also an amateur – a ‘regular’ person. When we first meet Jacobson in Retirement Homes are Murder, he’s moved to a retirement home after the death of his wife Rhonda. One day he finds the body of fellow resident Marshall Tiegan stuffed into a trash chute. When the police are alerted Detective Saito takes the case and begins to investigate. Jacobson is immediately suspected for a few reasons. First, Marshall Tiegan did not exactly top most people’s popularity lists and Jacobson had good cause to dislike him. What’s more, Jacobson has severe short-term memory loss. He can’t recall on any given day what happened the day before. So he can’t explain how he came to find the body or what happened just before the murder, and he can’t provide an alibi. Jacobson knows he’s not a killer though, so he decides to investigate the murder himself in order to clear his name.

One of the most appealing things about cosies for a lot of readers is that they tend to be low on violence and even lower on gore. Of course, murder is a violent, horrible thing and a well-written cosy acknowledges that. But the violence is generally kept ‘off stage.’ That’s what we see for instance in Susan Wittig Albert’s China Bayles series. Bayles is a former attorney who now owns an herb and tea shop called Thyme and Seasons in Pecan Springs, Texas. In Chile Death, Bayles’ policeman partner Mike McQuaid is recovering from a serious line-of-fire injury that has left him in a wheelchair, probably permanently. When he’s invited to serve as one of the judges for the upcoming Cedar Choppers Chili Cook-Off, Bayles thinks this is the perfect way to help McQuaid take his mind off his troubles. He’s unwilling at first, but finally agrees. On the day of the cook-off, one of the other judges Jerry Jeff Cody suddenly dies. It turns out that he was severely allergic to peanuts, and someone put peanuts in the chili he was asked to sample. Since she and McQuaid were both on the scene, Bayles gets involved in the investigation. There are several suspects too since Cody was not only an unfaithful husband but also a shady businessperson. In the meantime, Bayles and McQuaid also look into some disturbing allegations of some things happening at the nursing home where McQuaid is recuperating. There are stories that the director may be skimming money from the patients and has been abusive with at least one resident. These stories tie in with the murder and bit by bit, Bayles discovers the connections. There is violence in the story in the sense that someone is killed. But there is no gore and the violence that there is, is ‘off-stage.’

That’s also the case with Alan Bradley’s historical (1950s) Flavia de Luce series. Flavia is a preteen chemistry whiz who lives in the village of Bishop’s Lacey. In The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie we learn that she and her two sisters are being raised by their father Colonel de Luce in the family home Buckshaw. One morning, Flavia finds a dead body in the family’s cucumber patch. It turns out that this man is the same man she saw having an argument with her father the night before and sure enough, Colonel de Luce is soon arrested for the crime. Flavia knows that her father isn’t a murderer so she decides to find out who the dead man was and who really killed him. Flavia discovers that although the dead man and her father did have a tragic past connection, there are several other people who were just as eager to see the victim killed. In this novel, we don’t see the murder as it actually occurs, and the description of the body is kept brief. And yet, there is no doubt of what happened and Bradley gives a very authentic picture of how frightening it must be to have a family member accused of murder.

Many cosy series also feature a cast of ‘regulars,’ some of whom may be eccentric, but they’re all appealing. For lots of fans of cosies, that’s a big part of their appeal. Alexander McCall Smith’s series featuring Mma. Precious Ramotswe is like that. Mma Ramotswe, Botswana’s only lady detective, is the main protagonist. But there are several other characters too, to whom fans of the series have become deeply attached. For instance, Mma. Ramotswe’s husband Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni owns Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors. He doesn’t really solve cases with his wife, although she does sometimes seek his input. But his character is much-loved, and even his not-exactly-hard-working apprentices are popular ‘regulars.’ So of course is Mma. Grace Makutsi, Associate Detective with quite a lot of skill in her own right. Fans have followed the development of her character as she has evolved through the series. Also popular is Mma. Sylvia Potokwane who runs the local orphanage. There are other ‘regular’ characters too, and those who love this series are as attached to them as to anything else.

We also see that with Lilian Jackson Braun’s Cat Who… series. The main protagonist is newspaper columnist James ‘Qwill’ Qwilleran, who lives in the small town of Pickax, in Moose County, ‘400 miles north of nowhere.’ But there are several other ‘regulars’ who have become popular with fans. There’s Polly Duncan, head librarian and later bookshop owner, who is also the main woman in Qwill’s life. Then there’s Arch Riker, Qwill’s close friend and editor, and Arch’s wife Mildred. There’s also local police chief Andrew Brodie and luncheonette owner Lois Inchpot. As the series progresses, we see how the various ‘regulars’ interact with each other and with Quill, and fans have enjoyed the story arcs that feature them.

Well-written cosies of course also have believable mysteries and a solid setting too, just as any good crime fiction novel does. But for many people, the accessible protagonist, the low level of violence and brutality and the ‘regular’ characters of most cosies makes them especially appealing.

What about you? If you’re a fan of cosies, what is about them that appeals to you? If you write cosies, why did you choose that sub-genre?

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Clarence Paul, Barney Ales, Dave Hamilton and Mickey Stevenson’s Once Upon a Time, made famous by Marvin Gaye and Mary Wells.

 

 

The Alphabet in Crime Fiction: Injections

The Crime Fiction Alphabet meme is making great progress on our treacherous trek through the letters of the alphabet. As ever, my thanks to Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise for keeping us all together and organized. Erm – You haven’t seen my passport have you, Kerrie?    This week we’ve arrived at the delightful Isle of I. The word is that there’s quite good fishing, hiking and outdoor sports here. So while everyone’s getting the anti-bug spray and changing into hiking shoes, I’ll share my contribution for the week: injections.

Some injections save lives. For instance, there’s naloxone (often marketed under the name Narcan) that reverses the effects of certain opiates such as heroin. And there’s epinephrine (adrenaline) that counteracts histamine reactions; it’s often carried by people who have severe allergies. But as any crime fiction fan can tell you, injections can be very dangerous too. There are a lot of examples in crime fiction of this kind of murder; I’ll just give a few of them.

In Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death, the Boynton family makes a sightseeing trip to the ancient city of Petra. One afternoon while they’re there, family matriarch Mrs. Boynton suddenly dies of what seems to be heart failure. But a few details of the death don’t quite add up, and Colonel Carbury isn’t entirely satisfied that Mrs. Boynton died a natural death. So he asks Hercule Poirot, who is in the area, to investigate. It turns out that Mrs. Boynton was a tyrant and a mental sadist and no-one in her family is exactly mourning her loss. Neither are any of the other sightseers on this trip. It also turns out that she was murdered by an injection of digitalis. Poirot looks more closely into Mrs. Boynton’s life and that of her family members, and finds that the key to her murder lies in the kind of personality she had, and in an incident from her past. Some of Christie’s other work also features the role of injections, but no spoilers…

Peter Høeg’s Smilla’s Sense of Snow (AKA Miss Smilla’s Feeling For Snow) begins with the funeral of Isaiah Christiansen, a young Greenlander boy who moved to Copenhagen. The official account of his death is that he fell off the roof of the building where he lived – a terrible accident, but an accident nonetheless. Smilla Jaspersen lives in the same building and actually befriended Isaiah. Herself a half-Inuit Greenlander, Smilla felt drawn to the boy so she takes an interest in his death. Little signs in the snow on the roof suggest that Isaiah did not fall off the roof accidentally. This is enough for Smilla to start asking questions. Her suspicions are confirmed when she finds out that Isaiah had a puncture wound on his leg. There’s no sign of drugs, but Smilla is now sure that something about this death is not what it seems. So she keeps asking questions. The trail leads her to Greenland and an expedition that included both Isaiah and his father. That expedition turns out to be critical to the mystery.

Benjamin Black’s The Silver Swan is the story of the death of Deirdre Hunt. When her body is found off the rocks near Dalkey Island, the official explanation is that she committed suicide. Her husband Billy accepts that verdict and wants the case to go no further. In fact, he asks his old friend Dublin pathologist Garrett Quirke to do what he can to prevent an autopsy, saying that he doesn’t want his wife’s body subjected to being cut up. For the sake of their friendship Quirke agrees to see what he can do. But he begins to have suspicions about this death and when he prepares the body for a post-mortem examination, he finds evidence to support those suspicions. There’s a puncture wound in Deirdre’s arm, suggesting that she was injected with something. That needle mark is enough to get Quirke looking more deeply into the case. His search for answers leads him to the Silver Swan, a beauty shop in which Deirdre had an interest. There also turns out to be a connection in this case to an Indian faith healer and to Quirke’s own estranged daughter Phoebe, who’s dangerously mixed up in events at the Silver Swan.

Laos’ chief (actually only) medical examiner Dr. Siri Paiboun investigates a case involving injection in Colin Cotterill’s  The Coroner’s Lunch. Dr. Siri and his team are assigned to work on the politically-charged case of three Vietnamese men whose bodies are found in the Nam Ngum Reservoir in Kharmuon. There is a possibility that the men were spies, as there is no love lost between Vietnam and Laos. There are also signs of torture on the bodies. So the Vietnamese government is very interested in knowing what happened to its citizens and in knowing whether the Laotian government had anything to do with their deaths. Dr. Siri and his team are told to work as quickly and discreetly as they can so the press in both countries doesn’t fan the proverbial flames. Siri works with a Vietnamese counterpart Dr. Nguyen Hong on the murders and they find out something startling. Two of the men died not from torture or even from drowning, but from embolisms – injections of air. This suggests something more deliberate than simply the fate of captured Vietnamese spies and so it turns out to be.

Of course, injections can cause plenty of trouble even if they aren’t given directly to people. Just ask Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman. Chapman is a baker who lives and works in a Roman-style Melbourne building called Insula. As we learn in Heavenly Pleasures, her nearby neighbours Juliette and Vivienne Lefebvre own a chocolate shop called Heavenly Pleasures and sometimes use her as a taster for new creations. As Chapman puts it, Juliette

 

‘…really cares about chocolate in the same way that I care about bread.’

 

That’s one reason Chapman is so upset when some of the confections are sabotaged. Someone has injected chili into the chocolates, and although the Lefebvre sisters are quick to make things right, that doesn’t stop some questions being asked. There are other incidents of sabotage too and before long the Lefebvre sisters face having to close up shop until they find out what has happened to their chocolate. Chapman and her lover Daniel Cohen look into the question of who is trying to ruin Heavenly Pleasures while they are also investigating a suspicious new resident in Chapman’s building as well as a bomb threat.

See what I mean? Injections can be as dangerous as they can be helpful. And you’ll notice I haven’t even mentioned the many medical thrillers and hospital-based crime stories where injections play a role. Too easy. Now, if you’ll step over here, let me give you something guaranteed to help prevent a reaction to insect bites …  

The Alphabet in Crime Fiction: Arsenic

Well, I’ve bought my ticket and packed my bags and I’m off on another thrilling and chilling journey through the alphabet with the 2013 Crime Fiction Alphabet meme. I am delighted to be a part of this meme, so capably led by Kerrie at Mysteries in Paradise. I’m sure she’ll keep us safe throughout the journey, won’t you Kerrie? Won’t you?????

We start our journey of course with the letter A and my contribution is…arsenic.  Arsenic is closely associated with classic and Golden Age crime fiction, but it also turns up in more modern crime fiction too. Today of course it’s easy to test for arsenic, but that doesn’t mean it’s never used. Arsenic used to be readily available in a variety of products and its symptoms are similar to those of several gastric disorders, so at least in earlier eras it wasn’t always easy to identify arsenic poisoning. And even now it’s not immediately suspected. Little wonder it was the ‘poison of choice’ for a long time.

For instance, in Agatha Christei’s 4:50 From Paddington (AKA What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw!), Elspeth McGillicuddy is on her way by train to St. Mary Mead to visit her friend Miss Marple. Another train passes in the same direction and Mrs. McGillicuddy happens to glance through her window into the other train. What she sees horrifies her: a man is strangling a woman. She alerts the conductor and later the station authorities but no-one believes her. Even the police don’t believe her; after all, no-one has reported a missing woman and no dead body has been found. The only person who does believe Mrs. McGillicuddy is Miss Marple. She does her own research and deduces where the body must be: on the grounds of Rutherford Hall, the home of the Crackenthorpe family. So she arranges with her friend professional housekeeper Lucy Eyelesbarrow for Lucy to take a job at Rutherford Hall and do some sleuthing. Sure enough, the woman’s body is discovered and the police are called in. Since the body was found on the Crackenthorpes’ property, each member of the family comes in for suspicion. Then one day Lucy cooks a lunch that seems to sicken everyone. It’s discovered that the food contained arsenic, but the dose was small enough that slowly, everyone begins to feel better. Then, one of the family members suddenly worsens and dies from the arsenic. Miss Marple puts that event together with the earlier murder and figures out who the killer is and what the motive is.

Dorohy Sayers’ Strong Poison also features arsenic. Mystery novelist Harriet Vane is on trial for the poisoning murder of her former lover Philip Boyes. She had motive too as they had quarreled recently. She also had the means; her explanation is that she had purchased arsenic for research for a new novel. But the Crown is convinced that she intended to use the arsenic as a murder weapon. Lord Peter Wimsey attends the trial and becomes smitten with the defendant. In fact he determines to clear her name so he can marry her. When the jury can’t agree on a verdict, a new trial is arranged and Wimsey gets his chance. With help from his friend Katherine Climpson and his valet Mervyn Bunter, Wimsey finds out who really poisoned Philip Boyes and why.

In Rex Stout’s novella Poison à la Carte, Nero Wolfe gets a visit from millionaire Lewis Hewitt, a former client. Hewitt is a member of a gourmet group called The Ten for Aristology, and he wants to ‘borrow’ Wolfe’s chef Fritz Brenner to cook the group’s annual dinner. Wolfe and Brenner agree and the meal is duly planned and prepared. At the meal, to which Wolfe and Archie Goodwin are both invited, the guests are served by a group of Broadway actresses who are called, for this occasion, the Hebes. Each guest gets individual service from one of the Hebes. Then suddenly one of the guests Vincent Pyle dies of what turns out to be arsenic poisoning. Fritz of course is suspected but it soon comes out that there are several other suspects. Pyle was a Broadway ‘angel’ who knew more than one of the Hebes. And the other members of the Ten for Aristology aren’t exactly above suspicion either. In the end Wolfe figures out who had and took the opportunity to poison Pyle’s food.

Dashiell Hammett’s short story Fly Paper begins when Major Waldo Hambleton hires the Continental Detective Agency to track down his missing daughter Sue. Sue has been mixed up for some time with very shady people and has basically cut off communication with her family. But her father is wealthy and wants to know that she is safe. Then, Hambleton gets a request for money from his daughter and the agency sends one of its detectives to the address mentioned in the letter. The address turns out to be that of Joseph ‘Holy Joe’ Wales, whom Sue has recently begun seeing. That’s how the detective discovers that Sue has also been involved with a thug named ‘Babe’ McCloor. When the PI finally gets to Sue’s own place it’s too late; she is dead of arsenic poisoning. Now the case has changed from a missing person’s case to a case of possible murder – or was it suicide?

One of the more famous short stories featuring arsenic is Roald Dahl’s The Landlady. In that story, Billy Weaver has just arrived in Bath to start a new job after a trip from London. He’s on his way to spend the night at the Bell and Dragon when he notices a small bed-and-breakfast residence. On impulse he stops in. His landlady makes him welcome and although she seems a little eccentric, she also seems pleasant enough and the lodgings are comfortable and welcoming. So Weaver decides to stay there. Then as he’s signing the guest book, he makes an odd discovery. There are two other signatures there that somehow seem familiar to him. Bit by bit he works out who they are, but by then, well…read the story for yourself.

Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher has to deal with a case involving arsenic in Cocaine Blues. She travels from London, where she’s been living, back to her native Melbourne at the request of an acquaintance Colonel Harper and his wife. They’re concerned about their daughter Lydia, who hasn’t been at all well lately. What’s more, they suspect that their son-in-law is shady enough to be up to no good. So they ask Fisher to look into the matter. She agrees and when she gets to Melbourne, she starts circulating among the social group that includes Lydia. Slowly she uncovers what’s really going on with Lydia and her husband, and that it involves arsenic. She also finds out how that case is linked to illegal cocaine trafficking.

And then there’s Barry Maitland’s Dark Mirror. In that novel, KI Kathy Kolla and DS David Brock investigate the case of Marion Summers, a young undergraduate student who suddenly collapses and dies at the London Library in the West End. As they begin their work they find out several unusual things about the victim. She’d left – escaped, really – a difficult home life to try to make it on her own in London. That of course brings up the question of whether someone in her family might be involved in her death and the detectives discover some unhappy truths about the family. Then there’s Marion’s research into Victorian artist Gabriel Rossetti. At first the fact of her research doesn’t seem to mean much beyond explaining her presence at the library. But then the coroner’s report shows that she died by arsenic poisoning. In today’s world that’s unusual although it was common in the Victorian Era. So Kolla and Brock have to look through Marion’s research work and life as a student as well as her complicated personal life to find out who the killer is.

 

See what I mean? Arsenic as a theme runs through a lot of crime fiction; I’ve just scratched the surface here really. While you think of your own suggestions, may I get you a cup of coffee??
 

As you can tell, this is a really exciting journey! Want to come along?? You know you do. Get your own ticket and join the meme right here.

Lively Up Yourself*

An excellent review from Sarah at Crimepieces has got me thinking about the blend of light and dark in crime fiction. Now, I’ll just wait here for a moment and have a sip of my coffee while you go visit Sarah’s top-notch blog and follow it if you’re not already doing so. Trust me; if you’re a crime fiction fan, you want Crimepieces on your blogroll.

Right. On to this whole question of the mix of light and dark in the genre. Some crime fiction fans prefer utter bleakness and darkness in their reading; there’s lots of very fine noir out there for that taste or mood. Other crime fiction fans like their crime fiction to be very lighthearted and funny, and not to delve too much into the dark. For those readers and that mood, there’s a lot of excellent light cosy mystery fiction available. But not everyone enjoys either bleak crime novels or lighthearted ones. What about readers who are looking for a novel or series that has an edge – where is real seriousness – but at the same time has a solid streak of lightness?  There are some series out there that defy easy categorisation but that do mix dark and light in an effective way.

Sarah’s post focused on Catriona McPherson’s Dandelion ‘Dandy’ Gilver series, and that’s a very clear example of an interesting mix of light and dark. The series takes place in the years just after the end of World War I and features socialite and amateur sleuth Dandy Gilver, who begins sleuthing because it’s an interesting sort of hobby. But in After the Armistice Ball, she finds out that it’s more than that. In that novel, Gilver’s Daisy Esslemont asks her to look into the theft of diamonds belonging to the Duffy family. The diamonds were discovered to be fakes during a visit to the Esslemonts and Daisy wants the matter solved, so as to clear the names of her family members and her staff. Her view is that if Dandy asks questions, the investigation will be quiet and no-one will really notice. Dandy agrees and starts to look into the matter. Then, a fire and the discovery of a body in a lonely cottage turn this case into something much darker and more serious. Dandy and Cara Duffy’s fiancé Alec Osborne investigate and find out that there is a tie between the jewels, the murder and the fire, and that it all has to do with some dark family secrets. This novel does have an edge in that it discusses some dark themes and shows without sugarcoating what life was like in the years just after the Armistice. But at the same time, there’s lightness and wit in it as well, and Dandy Gilver doesn’t take herself overly seriously.

Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman series also has an effective (well, to me anyway) mix of light and dark. Chapman is a Melbourne baker who lives and works in a Roman-style building called Insula. There is lightness and humour in this series. There are several eccentric characters in the building, some funny incidents and real wit. So in that sense the series is lighthearted. But it’s got an edge too. For instance, in Earthly Delights, the first in the series, one of the mysteries that Chapman deals with is the deaths of several local junkies. In Devil’s Food, Chapman’s father disappears and her mother asks for Chapman’s help in finding him. The trail leads through some of Melbourne’s bad neighbourhoods and Greenwood doesn’t gloss over what life is like for Melbourne’s poor and disenfranchised.

Chris Grabenstein’s Ceepak and Boyle series is also a solid blend of light and dark. John Ceepak is a military veteran, formerly with the U.S. Army Military Police. In Tilt-a Whirl, the first novel in the series, he’s still dealing with the trauma of his experiences in Iraq. In the story, Ceepak is partnered with summer cop Danny Boyle, who’s more laid-back and much less ‘battle scarred’ than Ceepak is. Together they investigate the murder of billionaire Reginald Hart, who’s killed on a carnival ride at a seaside amusement park. On the one hand, there is a realistic and not at all funny look at the murder and its investigation. Ceepak and Boyle learn of the murder from Hart’s young daughter Alex, who was with him on the ride when he was shot – a harrowing experience for anyone. And as the cops begin to look into the matter, they find that Hart was involved in some real ugliness as he used any means necessary to get residents in some local apartment buildings to move out so he could buy the properties. Grabenstein does not gloss over some of the realities of Hart’s life or of the murder investigation. At the same time though, there’s wit, there’s liveliness and some quirky characters too. Oh, and if you’re from the northeast U.S. coast, you’ll feel a real connection to the seaside ‘down the shore’ setting.

Anthony Bidulka’s Russell Quant series is another that doesn’t fall easily into just one sub-genre. Quant is a Saskatoon PI who makes his debut in Amuse Bouche, in which he is hired to search for a missing fiancé who later turns up dead. On the one hand, this isn’t what you’d really call a lighthearted series. Bidulka addresses some very difficult issues (e.g. childhood trauma and the drug culture in Sundowner Ubuntu and real personal trauma in Stain of the Berry), and the stories don’t all end ‘happily ever after.’ In fact, one way in which the stories are linked together is in the unsettled issues to which there aren’t easy, ‘happy’ answers. On the other hand, there’s wit, there are light and funny moments, and there are some interesting and (here’s that word again) quirky characters. Oh, and there are Quant’s wonderpants. Read the series and you’ll know why they’re funny. Trust me. These novels weave light and dark together effectively so that the light moments in the novels are set off and given an edge by the grim reality that Bidulka also depicts.

And then there’s Jill Edmondson’s Sasha Jackson series. Jackson is a Toronto PI who in a past life was a rock singer. In fact she still goes singing gigs from time to time. When we meet her in Blood and Groom, she’s hired by Christine Arvisais, who’s been accused of (‘though not arrested for) the murder of her former fiancé Gordon Hanes, who was shot on the day they were supposed to marry. Arivisais says that she’s not guilty, but has already been convicted by the ‘court of public opinion.’ Jackson takes the case and soon finds out that Christine Arvisais is not the only one who might have wanted to kill Hanes. Just as Jackson is starting to get a picture of what Hanes was like, there’s another, very similar murder. If that murder is related to Hanes’ murder, that puts an entirely new perspective on the case. In the end Jackson finds out the relationships among the murders and what she finds out about the people in Gordon Hanes’ life. This series deals with some topics that are definitely not lighthearted. For instance, in Dead Light District Edmondson explores prostitution and human trafficking. In The Lies Have it, she takes a look at bondage/fetish clubs and some of the darkness that goes on ‘behind the scenes.’ This series isn’t what you’d call a romp. But there are funny moments and some real wit woven through the series. And although the stories don’t end with everything all perfect again, they do end on a hopeful note.

It takes talent to create a series that adds a dose of liveliness and lightheartedness to the novels without taking away from their ‘edge.’ And of course everyone’s got a different definition of what counts as ‘too lighthearted.’ That said though, there are some series that have a solid blend of those elements. What do you think? How much lightheartedness works for you? What about ‘edge?’ If you’re a writer, how do you combine those elements?

Thanks, Sarah, for the inspiration.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a Bob Marley song.

I Want a Shot at Redemption*

None of us is perfect. Well, at least I hope I’m not the only one who’s made mistakes. I’m not am I? Am I?  Many times when people have made mistakes, disappointed others or been self-destructive, they want to make up for it. You can call it the desire to redeem oneself if you want. Sometimes the plan works. Sometimes it doesn’t. But what I like about the idea of trying for redemption is that it speaks well of the human spirit (at least to me). It shows that we want to be better and to me, that’s reason for hope. And in crime fiction stories, where we so often see real sadness (and sometimes utter unwillingness to reflect and grow), it’s nice to see characters who at least try to redeem themselves. Along with everything else, it makes them more human.

In Agatha Christie’s Death in the Clouds (AKA Death in the Air), Hercule Poirot is traveling by air from Paris to London. One of his fellow passengers is Marie Morisot, a French moneylender who does business under the name Madame Giselle. In exchange for the money she lends, Madame Giselle finds out secrets about her clients that she uses as leverage to make sure she is repaid. During the flight, Madame Giselle suddenly dies of what is first thought to be heart failure. When it’s proven that she was poisoned, Poirot works with Chief Inspector Japp to find out who the killer is. The only possible suspects are the other passengers, so Poirot and Japp pay special attention to their backgrounds and possible relationships with the victim. One of the suspects is Lady Cecily Horbury, who borrowed from Madame Giselle and then couldn’t pay back what she owed. Poirot also finds out that she is unhappily married to Lord Stephen Horbury, who is in love with someone else. She won’t grant her husband a divorce because she doesn’t want to give up his income and yet, she doesn’t love him and treats him very selfishly. In the course of the investigation, Poirot convinces Lady Horbury to re-think what she’s done. Although her change of heart isn’t the reason for the murder, it’s an interesting example of a very selfish, greedy person who takes, if you will, a small step towards redemption.

Lawrence Block’s Matthew Scudder feels a strong need for redemption, especially at the beginning of the series that features him. As we learn in The Sins of the Fathers, Scudder was a cop with the NYPD until he made a tragic mistake. He was shooting at two holdup men but instead accidentally shot and killed a little girl Estrellita Rivera. He left the force and drank himself out of his marriage. Now, in part as a way to redeem himself, he ‘does favours’ for people by helping them find answers. Eventually he sobers up and gets a PI license. He even rebuilds his personal life. His path to redemption isn’t easy but it makes his character more believable. And throughout his journey, he never forgets what happened, although he does come to terms with it. Whenever he gets the chance to stop into a church, he lights a candle for Estrellita.

Vicki Delany’s Constable Molly Smith also feels the need to redeem herself. In her first outing, In the Shadow of the Glacier, Smith and her boss Sergeant John Winters investigate the murder of wealthy resort developer Reginald Montgomery. Along with this main plot, there’s an interesting sub-plot involving Smith’s best friend Christa Thompson. Christa is being stalked by Charlie Bassing and Smith advises her friend to swear out a complaint and try to get a restraining order. That plan doesn’t go well and Bassing’s stalking turns extremely ugly. Smith feels responsible for not doing more to protect her friend. She believes that if she’d been more attentive and not so wrapped up in her job she’d have been able to prevent any trouble. Christa blames her too, so there is a very serious strain on the relationship. That plot becomes a story-across-stories as Molly and Christa slowly re-build their friendship. At the same time as Molly tries to redeem herself, Christa slowly learns to see what really happened and that blaming Molly entirely hasn’t solved anything.

Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman series frequently features characters (sometimes even the main culprits) who get a chance at redemption.  For instance, in Earthly Delights, we meet Andy Holliday, who’s recently moved into the building where Chapman lives and has her bakery. Holliday doesn’t exactly cause trouble but he is miserable and spends as much time as he can getting or being drunk. Eventually Chapman finds out that it’s because he feels responsible for the fact that his daughter Cherie ran away and hasn’t been in contact. When we learn why she left we can see why he feels that way (and no, this isn’t the stereotyped abusive-parent-repents kind of story). When Holliday gets the chance to redeem himself, he does so eagerly albeit nervously. The end result is a reunion with his daughter and although they’re a bit awkward around each other at first, we see how being together nourishes both of them. We also see redemption in the character of Jason Wallace, Chapman’s apprentice. When we first meet Jason, he’s a teenage street kid and heroin addict who’s recently ‘gotten clean.’ Against what most people would consider her better judgement, Chapman hires Jason to clean her bakery and do other chores. Then he shows himself to be not just interested in baking but very good at it. So gradually he gets more and more responsibility as the series goes on. Jason has his share of setbacks and more than once, he needs to redeem himself. But at heart he’s a good kid who fairly blossoms when he gets the chance to show his talents. In fact, Chapman soon nicknames him The Muffin Man because of his special ability to create irresistible muffins.

And then there’s Holly Garland, whom we meet in Katherine Howell’s Silent Fear. Holly left behind a life she doesn’t exactly broadcast. She’s a former prostitute and heroin addict who decided to ‘go clean.’ So she and her friend Caryn left the life together and tried to make a fresh start. They were doing very well until Holly allowed her brother Seth back into her life after a serious falling-out. The result was tragic and although Holly knows she isn’t entirely to blame, she does feel she owes Caryn’s memory a debt if I can put it that way. So she’s become a very skilled paramedic. But her skills don’t keep her safe when she gets drawn into the murder of Paul Fowler, who was throwing a football around with some friends when he was shot. Detective Ella Marconi and her team investigate the murder. They find that Fowler had a secret life that got him mixed up with some ruthless people and eventually got him killed. They also find a connection between him and Seth.

It’s a natural wish I think to want to make up for mistakes – to redeem oneself. And even though people don’t always succeed, it’s a hopeful thing that they try. I’ve only mentioned a few examples here. Now it’s your turn…

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Paul Simon’s You Can Call Me Al.