Category Archives: Catherine O’Flynn

Franchise Joints on Hamburger Row*

If you look at the ‘photo, you’ll probably be able to tell that it was taken in a hotel room (I’m at a conference as this is posted). But do you know which hotel? That’s a sort of trick question, really, because a lot of hotels aren’t really distinctive any more. They may have different logos, or other sorts of branding, but the major hotel chains are really quite similar in a lot of ways.

And it’s not just hotels. Many restaurants, shops, and other facilities, especially if they are part of a large chain, are almost generic in nature. That’s arguably a trend, since the larger chains have become more prevalent, whether it’s bookshops or places to have pancakes.

As with most social trends, you see that development in crime fiction, too. For example, much of Agatha Christie’s Evil Under the Sun takes places at the Jolly Roger Hotel, on Leathercombe Bay. This hotel has a long history, and by the time Hercule Poirot visits it, it’s got a fine reputation. It’s a unique sort of place with its own atmosphere. And in this novel, it becomes a crime scene when one of the guests, famous actress Arlena Stuart Marshall, is murdered nearby. At first, her husband, Captain Kenneth Marshall, is the most likely suspect. And it’s not surprising, considering the victim’s not-too-well-hidden affair with another guest. But Marshall is soon proven innocent, so Poirot and the police have to look elsewhere for the culprit. It might be interesting to consider the sort of story this would be if it took place in one of today’s more generic hotels.

Ellery Queen’s the French Powder Mystery takes place at French’s Department Store. The novel was published in 1930, before department stores were taken over by large chains. This particular store is owned by Cyrus French, who’s made it a real success. Then one day, the body of French’s wife, Winnifred, is discovered in one of the store’s window displays. Inspector Richard Queen investigates, and, of course, his son, Ellery, has quite a hand in the search for the truth. As the Queens, Sergeant Velie, and the rest of the team look into the case, we get a look at what department stores were like when they were owned by individuals. French’s is distinctive, and it’s interesting to see how that individuality comes through.

The change from the individual/unique to the more generic/mass-produced is one of the themes of Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost. The story beings in 1984, when Kate Meaney is ten years old. She’s growing up in a rather dreary Midlands town, but she’s content. In fact, she’s a budding detective with her own private agency, Falcon Investigations. A new mall, Green Oaks Shopping Center, has opened, and Kate is sure that it will be a hotbed of criminal activity. So, she spends quite a lot of time there. Her grandmother, Ivy, thinks the girl would be better off going away to school, so she arranges for Kate to sit the entrance exams at the exclusive Redspoon School. Kate reluctantly agrees to go, and her friend Adrian Palmer goes along for moral support. Tragically, only Adrian returns. Despite a thorough search, no trace of Kate is found – not even a body. Twenty years later, a Green Oaks security guard named Kurt starts seeing strange images on his camera: a young girl who looks a lot like Kate. One night, he happens to meet Lisa Palmer (Adrian’s younger sister) who works at the mall. She knew Kate, and she and Kurt form a sort of awkward friendship. Each in a different way, they go back to the past, and we learn what really happened to Kate. As the novel goes on, we see the change from the individual ‘High Street’ shops to more modern large chains.

In Apostolos Doxiodis’ Three Little Pigs, we hear the story of Benvenuto ‘Ben’ Franco. In the early years of the 20th Century, he moves with his family from Italy to New York City. He gets work as a shoemaker, and is soon successful enough to have his own shoe repair/shoemaking business. Unfortunately, he gets in a bar fight with Luigi Lupo, and ends up killing the other man. He’s arrested and jailed, but that’s not the end of his trouble. It turns out that the victim is the son of notorious Mafia gangster Tonio Lupo. When Lupo learns who was responsible for his son’s death, he visits Franco in prison and curses his family. Lupo says that each of Franco’s three sons will die at the age of forty-two, the same age as Luigi was at his death. As the novel goes on, we learn how this curse plays out with Franch’s sons, Alessandro ‘Al,’ Niccola ‘Nick’ and Leonardo ‘Leo.’ While the major focus of the novel isn’t on Franco’s shoe business, we see that there’s a real difference between it and today’s mass-produced shoes.

And then there’s Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman. She is a former accountant-turned-baker, who lives and works in Melbourne. She takes pride in her bakery, Earthly Delights, where she bakes all of the bread herself, and her assistant, Jason, does the muffins himself. In Trick or Treat, a large chain, Best Fresh, opens a franchise very close to where Chapman has her bakery. Chpman’s concerned, even though Jason assures her that the competitor’s food isn’t as fresh or as tasty. Then, a young man jumps to his death from a nearby roof. Before long, his death is attributed to hallucinations brought on by ergot poisoning. All of the local bakeries, including Chapman’s, are suspect, and it’s very hard for her not to be able to do what she does – provide bread and rolls to her community. She wants to clear her bakery’s name, so she starts ask questions. And it’s interesting to see the difference between the way Chapman and her staff look at what they sell, and the way the local franchise does.

On the one hand, large chains and franchises are efficient, and can often provide goods and services at a lower cost. But there’s also something to be said for the uniqueness of independent companies. And it’s interesting to see how both are portrayed in the genre.

 
 
 

*NOTE:  The title of this post is a line from Brownsville Station’s The Martian Boogie.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Apostolos Doxiadis, Catherine O'Flynn, Ellery Queen, Kerry Greenwood

Teach Them Well and Let Them Lead the Way*

respecting-childrenAs this is posted, it’s ‘Dr. Seuss Day,’ National Read Across America Day in the US. This annual event not only celebrates Dr. Seuss’ birthday and legacy, but also celebrates the joy of reading together. And that’s as it should be. Dr. Seuss’s work has had a major impact on children’s literature, on reading in general, and on literacy development. Chances are that you’ve had at least some of his work read to you, and/or you’ve read it to your (grand)children.

One of the things that makes Dr. Seuss’ body of work distinctive is the respect it shows for young readers. If you read it closely, it is often whimsical, but doesn’t condescend to children. Rather, Dr. Seuss appreciated young people’s imaginations, and part of the appeal of his work is that it celebrates that creativity.

There’s a lot we can learn from children, too. We certainly see that in life, and we see it in crime fiction. Skilled sleuths know that treating children with respect, and reaching them at their levels, often gets more answers than does either ignoring them or completely dismissing what they have to say.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes knows the value of treating young people with respect, and of listening to them. Fans of these stories will know that, more than once, Holmes gets valuable assistance from a group of young boys called the Baker Street Irregulars. Led by a boy named Wiggins, they serve as Holmes’ ‘eyes and ears.’ They’re mostly street children, and no-one pays very much attention to them. But Holmes does. He knows that they see things, and hear things, that others don’t. Their information is quite useful to Holmes, and he doesn’t make the mistake of being dismissive of it.

Most people probably wouldn’t think of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot as particularly fond of children. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to them. In fact, when he does interact with children, Poirot is respectful; he knows that he’ll get more from listening to children than he will from ignoring them. In Dead Man’s Folly, for instance, a conversation with twelve-year-old Marylin Tucker gives Poirot some valuable information about why and by whom her older sister, Marlene, was killed. And in Hallowe’en Party, Poirot investigates the murders of thirteen-year-old Joyce Reynolds and her younger brother, Leopold. He finds that conversations with another young person turn out to be extremely useful in learning who killed these young people and why. And in both of these cases, Poirot listens, treats the children with respect, and speaks to them in ways they can understand.

Much the same could be said of Arthur Upfield’s Queensland Police Inspector Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte. In more than one of his cases, he interacts with children, and he’s found that listening to them, respecting them, and seeing the world the way they do is very helpful. For example, in Death of a Swagman, Bony is in the small town of Merino, looking into the death of itinerant stockman George Kendall. In order to find out everything he can, Bony goes undercover as a stockman, even arranging with Sergeant Marshall of the local police to be locked up for ten days on ‘vagrancy’ charges. During his ‘sentence,’ Bony meets Marshall’s daughter, Florence, who prefers the name Rose Marie. She’s not the reason for Kendall’s murder, but Bony finds that she has useful information. He treats her with respect, and the two form a bond that adds much to the story.

Jonathan Kellerman’s Alex Delaware is a psychologist whose specialty is working with children. So, he’s learned the value of listening carefully to what they say, and of interacting with them both respectfully and at a level they can understand. And in more than one case (I’m thinking, for instance, of When the Bough Breaks), he finds out very useful information.

In Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost, we meet ten-year-old Kate Meaney. She’s a fledgling detective who’s even opened her own agency, Falcon Investigations. And she’s sure she can spot suspicious activity and solve/prevent crime. At the beginning of the story, she lives with her father, Frank, with whom she has a close relationship. He treats her with respect, and appreciates both her imagination and her creative, distinctive way of thinking. And, in his way, Frank encourages his daughter to follow her own path. But then, tragically he dies. Kate’s grandmother, Ivy, loves her very much, but thinks she’d be better off going away to school. So, she arranges for Kate to sit the entrance exams at Redspoon, an exclusive school. Kate reluctantly goes to the school for the exams, but never returns. Despite an exhaustive search, no trace of her is found. Then, twenty years later, Kurt, a security guard at the mall Kate used to haunt, starts seeing strange images on his cameras. The images look a lot like Kate, and that’s unsettling. One night, Kurt meets Lisa, an assistant manager at the mall. Lisa used to know Kate, and eventually Kurt tells her what he’s seen. Slowly, the two go back to the past, you might say, and we learn what really happened to Kate and why.

Alan Bradley’s sleuth, Flavia de Luce, is eleven years old at the beginning of the series featuring her. She lives with her father and sisters in an old place called Buckshaw. One of the major influences in Flavia’s life is her father’s factotum, Arthur Dogger. Flavia knows that she can trust Dogger, who treats her with respect and listens to her. He takes her questions – and there are many – seriously, too. And, even though he has an adult’s maturity and experience, he’s not dismissive of Flavia’s ideas, even when they’re quite speculative.

And then there’s Jen Shieff’s The Gentlemen’s Club. It’s 1950s Auckland, and Rita Saunders has established herself both as a hairstylist, and as the owner of a gentlemen’s club, a not-well-disguised brothel. Things are going smoothly for her, but that changes when a ship from England docks. One of the passengers, Fenella Grayson, is escorting three orphaned girls who are to be placed at Brodie House, an orphanage that’s directed by a man named Lindsay Pitcaithly. It’s hoped that good adoptive homes will soon be found for them. Little by little, though, Rita begins to suspect that Brodie House is not all it seems, and that Pitcaithly may be involved in some sinister business. With the help of a recent immigrant, Istvan Ziegler, and another newcomer to Auckland, Judith Curran, Rita gets to the truth about Brodie House. And that involves talking to the three orphaned girls. This takes time and effort, and it requires listening to them, respecting what they say, and reaching them at their level.

And that’s something that Dr. Seuss was quite skilled at doing. He’s no longer with us, but his stories are. And for many millions of readers, that’s a very good thing.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Michael Masser and Linda Greed’s The Greatest Love of All.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Alan Bradley, Arthur Conan Doyle, Arthur Upfield, Catherine O'Flynn, Jen Shieff, Jonathan Kellerman

If I Were Huckleberry Finn, I’d Do the Things He Did*

huckleberryfinnAs this is posted, it’s 132 years since the US publication of Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (the novel had been published two months earlier in the UK). As you’ll know, the novel has been the focus of a lot of controversy (‘fodder’ for a post in itself, perhaps). And it wasn’t roundly accepted. Louisa May Alcott, for instance, wanted Twain to,
 

‘stop writing for…our pure-minded lads and lasses…if he cannot think of something better to tell…’
 

Still, the novel has become a classic. Even those who don’t care for it acknowledge its influence (and Twain’s) on literature in general, and US literature in particular.

But The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn isn’t the only exploration of coming of age and self-discovery. There are lots of examples out there, including examples from crime fiction.

For instance, Agatha Christie’s Cat Among the Pigeons takes place mostly at Meadowbank, an exclusive school for girls. Late one night, Grace Springer, the school’s games mistress, is shot in the brand-new sports pavilion. The police are called in, but they don’t make much progress before there’s a kidnapping. Then, there’s another murder. One of the pupils, fifteen-year-old Julia Upjohn, finds an important clue to the murders. She’s smart enough to know that she’s now in grave danger, so she decides to do something about it. She sneaks out of the school, and goes to visit Hercule Poirot. She’s heard of him, because her mother is good friends with Maureen Summerhayes (Remember her, fans of Mrs. McGinty’s Dead?). Poirot returns to the school with Julia, and works with the police to find out what’s behind the incidents at the school. That summer term turns out to be quite a time of adventure and self-discovery for Julia.

Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time introduces readers to fifteen-year-old Christopher Boone. He has autism, but is quite high-functioning, so he attends school, works with a therapist, and mostly lives what a lot of people would call a ‘regular’ life – or close to it. Still, because of his autism, there are a lot of subtleties and nuances that Christopher isn’t aware of when he interacts with people. One day, he discovers the body of the dog that belongs to the people next door. They’re prepared to blame Christopher for the animal’s death, but he knows he didn’t harm the dog. So, he decides to be a detective, just like Sherlock Holmes, and find out the truth. He starts asking questions and following leads. As he does, he learns important truths about himself, and he has more than one adventure.

So does ten-year-old Kate Meaney, whom we meet in Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost. The story begins in 1984, in a rather bleak Midlands city. Kate wants very much to be a detective; she even has her own agency, called Falcon Investigations. When the Green Oaks Shopping Center opens nearby, Kate is sure that she’ll find lots of suspicious activity there, so she spends quite a lot of time at the new mall. She has more than one adventure as she goes in search of criminals. But her grandmother, Ivy, thinks that the girl would be much better off going away to school. So, she arranges for Kate to sit the entrance exams at the exclusive Redspoon School. Kate and her friend, Adrian Palmer, go to the school, but only Adrian returns. No sign of Kate – not even a body – is found. Then, twenty years later, a mall security officer starts to see strange images on his security camera: a girl who looks a lot like Kate. By chance, he meets Lisa Palmer, who works in the mall, and is Adrian’s younger sister. Each in a different way, they go back to the past, as you might say, and we learn what happened to Kate.

Mari Strachen’s The Earth Hums in B-Flat is the story of twelve-year-old Gwenni Morgan, who lives in a small Welsh village in the 1950s. She doesn’t quite fit in where she lives, as she’s a bit of a dreamer. But she lives a fairly normal life until the day one of the locals, Ifan Evans, disappears, and is later found dead. For various reasons, Gwenni wants to find out who’s responsible. So, she starts searching for the truth. That search leads her on more than one adventure, some more dangerous than others. And in the process, she also finds out quite a bit about herself.

In William Kent Kreueger’s Ordinary Grace, thirteen-year-old Frank Drum and his younger brother, Jake, are growing up in 1961 New Bremen, Minnesota. Everything changes for Frank the day a local boy is killed in what looks like a railroad accident. Frank knows he’s not supposed to go down to the railroad tracks, but he also wants a bit of an adventure. So, he and Jake go down to the tracks, where they find a dead man. Frank can’t resist the chance to see the dead body more closely, so he goes to have a look. And he and Jake get drawn into a much greater adventure than they’d thought. Then, tragedy strikes Frank’s family, and he learns a great deal about himself, about family, and about growing up.

Honey Brown’s Through the Cracks introduces readers to fourteen-year-old Adam Vander. As the story begins, he’s finally worked up the courage to leave his abusive father, Joe. Adam’s been very much kept under lock and key for most of his life, so he has very little knowledge of the outside world. Fortunately for Adam, a young man named Billy Benson happens to visit the house just as Adam’s preparing to leave. He befriends Adam, and the two spend the next week together. Billy knows all about how to scrounge food and a place to stay, and Adam learns a great deal from him. As the two get to know each other, they learn some things that neither is entirely comfortable accepting. And they learn that they are connected to each other, and to an abduction that took place ten years earlier.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Fireside Books’ Leaders and Legacies series. These books feature Canada’s prime ministers as young sleuths, and follow their adventures and growing-up experiences.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn may not have been the first coming-of-age adventure, but it’s one of the best known. And a lot of people consider it one of the best written. And, whatever you think of it, it’s certainly been influential.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Sam Lewis, Joe Young, and Cliff Hess’ Huckleberry Finn.

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Catherine O'Flynn, Honey Brown, Mari Strachan, Mark Haddon, Mark Twain, William Kent Krueger

Someday You’ll Thank Me For This Advice*

for-your-own-good‘It’s for your own good!’ ‘Someday you’ll thank me.’ I’ll bet you’ve heard this sort of thing before. Very often, the person who says something like that is well-meaning, or at the very least not deliberately malicious. And yet, what someone else thinks is for our own good isn’t always. And the way that plays out in crime fiction can be very interesting.

I got to thinking about what is(n’t) for someone’s own good when I read an excellent review of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper from Cleo at Cleopatra Loves Books. Admittedly, I’ve not (yet) read the story myself. But it’s got a plot point that includes that question of what is really best for someone. But don’t take my word for it. Please go check out Cleo’s review yourself. Her blog is an excellent resource for all sorts of terrific reviews, so you’ll want it on your blog roll if it’s not there already.

We see this plot point in crime fiction, too. For instance, in Agatha Christie’s Appointment With Death, the Boynton family travels from the US to the Middle East for a sightseeing tour. Family matriarch Mrs. Boynton is manipulative, malicious and tyrannical, but no-one in her family dares go against her will. That includes her seventeen-year-old daughter, Ginevra ‘Ginny.’ In more than one place in the novel, Ginny wants (or doesn’t want) to do something, and her mother insists she do the opposite. It’s almost always, according to Mrs. Boynton, because Ginny has no idea what’s best for her. But the reader soon sees just how unpleasant and controlling Mrs. Boynton really is, and how little of what she does is the best thing for her daughter. On the second afternoon of the family’s trip to the ancient city of Petra, Mrs. Boynton dies of what turns out to be poison. Hercule Poirot is in the area on a trip of his own, so Colonel Carbury asks him to investigate. And Ginny becomes one of the ‘people of interest’ whom he interviews.

In Elizabeth George’s A Traitor to Memory, we are introduced to the Davies family. Twenty-eight-year-old Gideon Davies is a world-class violinist, who’s been a musical prodigy for most of his life. But one frightening day, he finds himself unable to play at all. Terrified, he seeks the help of a psychologist to try to get to the root of his mental block. Through that plot thread, we learn that he’s been groomed (many would say, pushed) since he was a little boy. We also learn that, twenty years earlier, he lost his sister Sonia (she was a toddler at the time) to a tragic drowning accident (or was it?). All of these past issues play a role in Gideon’s life now. And we see how he’s been impacted by that attitude of ‘I know what’s best for you.’

In Linwood Barclay’s Bad Move, science fiction novelist Zack Walker decides that his family isn’t safe in the city. He’d rather live in the far-less-dangerous suburbs. Neither of his children wants to make the move. They’re both well-established in school, and don’t see the point of moving. And Walker’s wife, Sarah, likes their present home, too. Still, she is finally persuaded to make the move. Walker thinks he knows what’s best for his family, but it certainly doesn’t turn out that way. First, there are several problems with the house. And Walker doesn’t get much help when he goes to the development’s sales office to complain. Then, during Walker’s visit to the office, he witnesses an argument between one of the executives there, and local environmental activist, Samuel Spender. Later that day, Walker finds Spender’s body at a local creek. Before he knows it, he’s drawn into a complex case of murder and fraud. As it turns out, he didn’t know what was best after all…

Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost is the story of Kate Meaney. As the story begins (in 1984), she is a ten-year-old budding detective. In fact, she’s got her own agency, Falcon Investigations. She spends a great deal of time at the newly-opened Green Oaks Shopping Center, since she is sure that a mall is a magnet for criminals and suspicious activity. Kate’s very content with her life, despite the fact that she lives in a somewhat dreary town. But her grandmother, Ivy, thinks that it would be better for the girl to go away to school. Over Kate’s objections, Ivy arranges for her granddaughter to sit the entrance exams at the exclusive Redspoon School. Ivy believes she’s doing this for Kate’s own good, but things don’t turn out as planned. Kate and her friend, Adrian Palmer, take the bus to the school for the exams, but only Adrian comes back. Despite a massive search, no sign of Kate is ever found – not even a body. Twenty years later, Kurt, a security officer at Green Oaks, starts to see unusual images on the cameras he monitors. They seem to be of a young girl who looks a lot like Kate. One night, Kurt meets Lisa (Adrian Palmer’s younger sister), who has a job at the mall. He and Lisa strike up a sort of friendship, and, each in a different way, they re-open the past. We find out what happened to Kate, and we see that ‘for your own good,’ isn’t always for the best.

We see that, too, in Wendy James’ Out of the Silence, a fictional retelling of the story of Maggie Heffernan, who was arrested in Victoria in1900 for the murder of her infant son. As James tells the story, Maggie meets Jack Hardy in 1898. She falls in love with him, and the feeling seems to be mutual. In fact, he asks her to marry him, but says their engagement must be kept secret until he can provide for a family. Maggie agrees, and Jack goes to New South Wales to look for work. When Maggie discovers that she’s pregnant, she writes to Jack a number of times, but he doesn’t respond. Knowing that she can’t go home to her family, she goes to Melbourne to look for work. She finds a job at a Guest House, where she stays until her baby, whom she names Jacky, is born. Then, she goes to Mrs. Cameron’s home for unwed mothers. There, the young women are taught all sorts of things, ‘for their own good,’ including ways to take care of their babies. Maggie’s instinct is that Mrs. Cameron and her ways are wrong for both mother and baby. So, when she discovers that Jack Hardy has moved to Melbourne, she goes in search of him. When she finds him, he rejects her, telling her that she’s crazy. In her grief, Maggie goes from lodging house to lodging house, looking for a place for her and the baby to stay. She’s turned away from six establishments before the tragedy with Jacky occurs. She’s arrested and imprisoned, where again, a lot of what happens is ‘for the good’ of the prisoners. Among other things, it’s an interesting look at what was expected at that time.

Many people really are well-meaning when they say they’re doing/saying something ‘for your own good.’ And sometimes it works out that way. But sometimes it doesn’t. And that can add real tension to a story.

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from They Might Be Giants’ Save Your Life  

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Filed under Agatha Christie, Catherine O'Flynn, Elizabeth George, Linwood Barclay, Wendy James

Jackie Kept a Lookout Perched on Puff’s Gigantic Tail*

childhoodplayA big part of a healthy childhood is play. In fact, plenty of well-respected scholars agree that play is an important way for children to prepare for later life. Whether it’s hide-and-seek or fantasy play (e.g. ‘You be the dragon and I’ll try to keep you away from the castle.’) or something else, children need that opportunity to let their imaginations rule.

We see that innocence and imagination in plenty of crime fiction, and that makes sense. Many fictional characters are, or have, children, and it’s realistic that they would show that side of childhood. For the author, including that aspect of childhood offers some interesting possibilities for plot lines, character development, atmosphere, and even comic relief.

In Arthur Upfield’s Death of a Swagman, for instance, Queensland Police Inspector Napoleon ‘Bony’ Bonaparte is sent to the small town of Merino to investigate the death of itinerant stockman George Kendall. To find out as much as possible, he goes undercover as a stockman himself, even arranging (with the help of Sergeant Marshall of the local police) to have himself locked up for ten days for vagrancy. During his ‘sentence,’ he meets the sergeant’s eight-year-old daughter, Florence, who usually goes by the name of Rose Marie. She brings him afternoon tea, very much playing the adult hostess, and they form a bond. That bond becomes a part of the story. One of the interesting moments in their first conversation happens when Florence decides that the jail cell door will have to be opened if they’re to have tea. She makes Bony,
 

‘Cross your fingers properly, and promise out loud [that he won’t try to escape]. Hold them up so’s I can see.’
 

It’s a very believable portrayal of a child who lives partly in the real world and partly in a world where crossed fingers and ‘out loud’ promises are as much as contracts. You’re absolutely right, fans of The Bushman Who Came Back.

In Agatha Christie’s The Clocks, we meet ten-year-old Geraldine Brown. She’s recovering from a broken leg, so she spends plenty of time sitting, looking out of her window. Special agent Colin Lamb meets her while he’s looking into the murder of an unknown man who was killed just across the street from Geraldine’s window. When he sees her looking out, he knows that she might have seen something, so he goes up to her flat and talks to her. In a way, she’s got her own fantasy world. Here’s what she says when Lamb asks her about the people who live across the street:
 

‘Of course, I don’t know their real names, so I have to give them names of my own…There’s the Marchioness of Carrabas down there…That one with all the untidy trees. You know, like Puss in Boots…’
 

On the other hand, she is a keen observer, and her comments turn out to be very helpful.

Catherine O’Flynn’s What Was Lost introduces readers to ten-year-old Kate Meaney. More than anything else, Kate wants to be a detective. She’s even started her own agency, Falcon Investigations. Her partner is a stuffed animal, Mickey the Monkey, who travels everywhere with her. When the Green Oaks Shopping Center opens not far from her home, Kate believes that it will be a very good place to look for suspicious activity. So, she spends a lot of time there, and it’s interesting to see how her world is partly the reality of her life in the Midlands, and partly the fantasy world of her detective agency. Her grandmother, Ivy, thinks it would be better for Kate to go away to school, and get ready for the ‘real world.’ So, she arranges for the girl to sit the entrance exams at the exclusive Redspoon School. Kate goes, but doesn’t return. Despite a massive search, no trace of her is found. Twenty years later, a Green Oaks Shopping Center security guard named Kurt notices something unusual in the surveillance footage he sees. There are several somewhat blurred images of a young girl carrying a backpack with a stuffed monkey sticking out of it. One night, he meets Lisa Palmer, assistant manager of the mall’s music store. It turns out that she knew Kate. The two form an awkward sort of friendship, and each in a different way, they go back to the past as we learn what really happened to Kate.

In Aditya Sudarshan’s A Nice Quiet Holiday, Judge Harish Shinde and his law clerk, Anant, travel from Delhi to Bhairavgarh, in the Indian state of Rajasthan, for a two-week holiday. They’ll be staying with Shikhar Pant, an old friend of Shinde’s. There are other houseguests, too, including Dr. Davendra Nath and his daughter Mallika and sons Ashwin and Nikhil. Also visiting is Pant’s cousin Kailish, a well-known writer. One afternoon, Kailish is found stabbed in his cousin’s library. The police are called in, and Inspector Patel begins the investigation. There are several possible suspects, too. As Patel, the judge, and Anant work through the clues, we see how different the house and the events are for Ashwin and Nikhil. They’re just children, so as soon as they arrive, they want to explore. Their opinion of the house has more to do with its suitability for hide-and-seek than anything else, and they’re more enthusiastic about playing cricket than about catching up on the gossip with the other guests. Their perspectives form an interesting counterpoint to the adult concerns in the story.

And then there’s Harry Honeychurch, whom we first meet in Hannah Dennison’s Murder at Honeychurch Hall. Katherine ‘Kat’ Stanford has decided to give up her life as a television presenter, and go into the antiques business with her mother, Iris. She’s tired of the stress of being ‘under the microscope,’ and is looking forward to some privacy. Everything changes when her mother telephones her with startling news. She’s taken the old carriage house on the property of Honeychurch Hall, Little Dipperton, Devon. Kat’s shocked at this change of plans, and goes to Little Dipperton right away. There, she finds that her mother’s broken a hand in a car accident, so she decides to stay and help out until her mother can manage on her own. While she’s there, Kat meets the members of the Honeychurch family, including young Harry. In fact, one night, his parents ask her to look after him while they go out, and she reluctantly agrees. Harry lives in a fantasy world at least part of the time. He’s obsessed with WWI hero James ‘Biggles’ Bigglesworth, and imagines himself as Biggles quite often. He’d far rather live out his hero’s adventures than study, and it’s interesting to see how his childlike view of the world contrasts with those of the adults in his life. That comes to the fore in the next novel in the series, Deadly Desires at Honeychurch Hall.

But that’s what a healthy childhood often is: a perspective that’s quite different to that of adults. There’s a blend of fantasy and reality as children sort their worlds out, and play is often the way they do that. So, perhaps that Superman cape or imaginary horse isn’t such a bad idea…

 
 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Leonard Lipton and Peter Yarrow’s Puff, the Magic Dragon. I had the privilege of seeing them live once, and they did this song. As they did, we all sang along, of course. At the very end, they asked us to change the last verse from the past tense (…lived by the sea….) to the present tense. They wanted us to remember that Puff the Magic Dragon never really goes away…

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Filed under Aditya Sudarshan, Agatha Christie, Arthur Upfield, Catherine O'Flynn, Hannah Dennison