Category Archives: Rita Mae Brown

Bus Driver…Ambulance Man…Ticket Inspector*

occupationIt’s easy enough to imagine scenarios where fictional police detectives and PIs get involved in investigating crimes. So, a series that features a police officer or a PI makes sense and can be quite credible. It’s harder when the protagonist of a crime fiction series is an amateur detective.

Some professions do lend themselves to the role a bit more than others. For instance, there are lots of fictional academics who are amateur detectives. And it’s not hard to imagine scenarios where the sleuth is an academic (ahem – at least I hope it’s not…). The same might be said of fictional members of the clergy or their spouses/partners. Those people hear and see quite a bit, so it makes sense that they’d be involved in fictional investigations. There are also lots of fictional psychologists, medical professionals, attorneys and journalists who are also amateur sleuths. Again, it’s fairly credible that such people would be in a position to encounter and investigate a crime.

But there are some fictional amateur sleuths out there who have more unusual occupations. In those cases, the author has the challenge of creating a believable context for the sleuth. It’s not always easy to do, but some authors have achieved it.

One such sleuth is Rita Mae Brown’s Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Harristeen. When this series begins, Harry is the postmistress for the tiny town of Crozet, Virginia. She also runs a small farm. Later in the series, she steps aside as postmistress, and takes up cultivating a vineyard. This scenario – with Harry as postmistress, and also sleuth – works (at least for me) because it makes sense that, in a small town, people would gather at the post office, pick up their mail, and talk. This puts Harry in a very good position to know a lot about what’s going on. We also learn that her family has been in the area for generations. So, she’s ‘plugged in.’ There are some aspects of the series that aren’t as credible. But a postmistress as sleuth makes sense.

You wouldn’t expect a ticket-taker to be in a position to do sleuthing – at least not credibly – but that’s what happens in Denise Mina’s Garnethill, the first in her Garnethill trilogy. Maureen ‘Marui’ O’Donnell works in a low-paid job as a ticket-taker. She’s emotionally fragile (in fact, she spent some time in a mental health hospital). Still, she’s trying to get her life together. She even has a relationship with Douglas Brodie. He happens to be married, but she’s working on figuring out what she’s going to do. One morning, after a night of drinking, Mauri wakes to find Brodie’s body in her living room. As you can imagine, the police are not satisfied that she isn’t responsible. So, Mauri decides to clear her own name. And that’s the approach Mina takes to making Mauri a believable sleuth, although she’s neither a copper nor a PI.

Eleanor Kuhns’ historical (end of the 18th Century) series features Will Rees. He’s an itinerant weaver, who also has a small piece of property. On the surface of it, weaving isn’t the sort of occupation that would likely put someone in contact with murder. But in A Simple Murder, the first of this series, Kuhns sets up a credible context. In that novel, we learn that Rees is despondent over his first wife’s death. He puts his son, David, in the care of his sister, and goes off, working as a weaver where and when he can. Then, he finds out that David has been sent to a Shaker sect establishment, where he’s being mistreated. Rees rushes to do what he can for his son, only to be on the scene when there’s a murder. And, since the Shakers are a small and tightly-knit community, Rees can’t help but be drawn into the mystery as he tries to re-establish contact with his son. Slowly, as the series goes on, word gets around that Will Rees can find answers. So, he begins to build a reputation.

Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman is a Melbourne accountant-turned-baker, who lives and works in a large, Roman-style building called Insula. When the series begins (with Earthly Delights), Chapman has no desire to be a sleuth or to solve mysteries. But she gets drawn into investigating a series of heroin overdoses that might not be as accidental as they seem. It all starts when one overdose happens right outside Chapmen’s own bakery. Then, someone starts targeting the people who live in Insula. Chapman wants to find out who that person is, and her new lover, Daniel Cohen (he volunteers for a mobile soup kitchen), wants to find out what’s behind the overdoses. So, they agree to help one another.

There’s also D.S. Nelson’s Blake Heathington. He’s a retired milliner, who’s moved to the village of Tuesbury. You might not think that a milliner would likely come across a lot of bodies. But Heatherinton has a keen eye for his clients, and a good sense of what makes them ‘tick.’ So, in Hats Off to Murder, he becomes more than curious when two of his clients die. There’s no obvious evidence that they were murdered, but some things just don’t add up. Then, a new client, Delilah Delibes, asks for his help tracking down her mother, Flora, who’s gone missing. Heatherington is not a professional sleuth, and doesn’t pretend to have investigative skills. But he is compassionate. And he’s curious. So, he works with Delilah to find out what happened to her mother. And, in the process, he finds out how and why his clients died.

And then there’s Steve Robinson’s Jefferson Tayte, who is a genealogist. His specialty is tracing people’s ancestry, not finding killers. But sometimes, secrets from the past have a way of haunting modern families. So Tayte runs into more than one murder as he searches for his clients’ roots.

For authors who create amateur sleuths, it can be a challenge to create a credible context for those sleuths to ask questions and investigate. When it’s done well, though, it can work. And there really are some interesting occupations out there in crime-fiction land.


*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Clash’s Career Opportunities.


Filed under D.S. Nelson, Denise Mina, Eleanor Kuhns, Kerry Greenwood, Rita Mae Brown, Steve Robinson

Dissatisfied With What I Am*

Body ImageA lot of people worry about how the way they look ‘measures up.’ Each culture of course has its own standards of what ‘counts’ as attractive, but in a lot of cultures, there is a great deal of media pressure and sometimes peer pressure to look a certain way. That’s one reason that the cosmetics, cosmetic surgery, fitness, hair salon and diet industries are so lucrative. People spend any amount of money on trying to fit the media/popular image of ‘attractive.’

Of course, a sometimes-very-unhealthy focus on appearance isn’t new. The pressure to look a certain way has been there for thousands of years, and there’ve been some unusual and sometimes horribly dangerous ‘remedies’ for what was perceived as ‘less than beautiful.’ But body/appearance issues are still very much with us, and they can still have dangerous effects.

Anxiety about the way one looks has certainly found its way into crime fiction, and not just recent stories either. In Agatha Christie’s Evil Under the Sun, for instance, we meet sixteen-year-old Linda Marshall. She and her father Captain Kenneth Marshall are taking a holiday at the Jolly Roger, an upmarket hotel on Leathercombe Bay. With them is Marshall’s second wife, famous actress Arlena Stuart. She is, among other things, stunningly beautiful. So Linda has a great deal of anxiety about her own appearance:


‘She disliked her face very much. At this minute it seemed to her to be mostly bones and freckles. She noted with distaste her heavy bush of red-brown hair (mouse, she called it in her own mind), her greenish-grey eyes, her high cheek-bones and the long, aggressive line of the chin. Her mouth and teeth weren’t perhaps quite so bad – but what were teeth after all? And was that a spot coming on the side of her nose? She decided with a relief that it wasn’t a spot.’


Linda has in her mind an ideal image of what a young woman ‘should’ look like, and she doesn’t measure up to that image. That’s a bit of the reason she’s very resentful of her stepmother; Arlena makes it all look easy, and certainly doesn’t bother to be friends with Linda. So when Arlena becomes a murder victim, Linda has mixed feelings. On the one hand, she admits to herself that she hated Arlena. On the other, the idea of actually killing or being killed is frightening and horrible. Hercule Poirot is also at the Jolly Roger, so he works with the local police to find out who the murderer is.

In Yrsa Sigurðardóttir’s Ashes to Dust, Reykjavík attorney Thóra Gudmundsdóttir gets a new client. An excavation on the Westmann Island reveals four bodies in a basement. It soon turns out that they’ve been there since a 1973 volcanic eruption on the islands. Markús Magnússon was only a teen at the time, but he was living in that house. So he might have some knowledge of who the victims are, who killed them and how they got to the basement. Then, there’s another death. Alda Thorgeirsdóttir, who was actually Markús’ childhood sweetheart, has apparently committed suicide. What’s more, she had some knowledge of the incident that led to those bodies being in the basement. Now it’s beginning to look to the police as though Markús may have killed Alda, and may have had something to do with the older murders. Thóra travels to the islands with her secretary Bella to do the best job she can to defend her client against the murder accusation. One important witness is Tinna, a young teen who saw something vital. But no-one really pays much attention to her account. Tinna has severe anorexia, and is so obsessed by avoiding every single calorie that she’s got real mental, emotional and physical issues. They’ve made her sick enough that she’s not taken particularly seriously, although her illness is. It turns out though that she has a critical clue to the case.

Body image issues are also often a part of the high-profit trade in anabolic steroids and other performance enhancers. On the one hand, they can seem very effective as muscle bulk increases and endurance seems to improve as well. And carefully-supervised medically appropriate steroids can help heal injuries. But as I’m sure you know, those performance enhancers also sometimes come with dangerous side effects, especially when they are abused. Yet, the ‘ideal’ image of the well-muscled, toned body is irresistibly appealing for those who’d like to change the way they look.

In Rita Mae Brown’s Hiss of Death, for instance, her sleuth, Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Harristeen has a frightening health crisis. She is treated at Central Virginia Hospital where she meets a nurse, Paula Benton, who’s very helpful to her. So when Benton is murdered, Harry is determined to find out why. Then, there’s another murder. In the meantime, she’s joined Heavy Metal, a local gym, to help her build her strength. That’s where she starts to learn how performance enhancers are made available illegally. And it turns out that that information is critical to solving this case.

There’s a similar sort of theme in G.A. McKevett’s Killer Physique, which features her PI Savannah Reid. Reid gets the opportunity to meet celebrity Jason Tyrone, who embodies the muscle-toned, fit look that you see on advertisements for performance enhancers and fitness clubs. When he is killed, Reid finds a connection between that murder and a possible performance-drugs ring at the famous gym where Tyrone worked out.

There’s also Bev Robitai’s Body on the Stage. Dennis Dempster has been ‘out of it’ since his divorce from his ex-wife Louise. His sister persuades him to pick up his life a bit and audition to work on the Regent Theatre’s upcoming production of Ladies Night. He’s taken on as part of the backstage crew and soon gets into the routine of working there. That’s how he meets Cathy, who owns a gym called Intensity where she’s training the dancers for the show. When he fixes a computer problem for her, Cathy invites him to take a tour of Intensity, and even offers to work up a fitness plan for him. Dennis knows he’s out of shape, but at first, he’s reluctant. Still, he goes along with her idea, and even joins the dancers for their workouts. He and Cathy begin to develop a relationship too. Then, Cathy’s assistant Vincenzo Barino disappears. When he is found dead, the case turns into a murder investigation. It turns out that the victim had a lucrative ‘side business’ in illegal performance enhancers, where he had some unpleasant ‘business associates.’ What’s more, he had a reputation as a ‘ladies’ man,’ with no concern for whether his current love interest was involved with someone else. So there are plenty of suspects, including Cathy herself. Dennis wants to clear Cathy’s name and Cathy wants to save her gym’s reputation. So the two of them work together with the police to find out who the killer is.

Just about any responsible medical expert will tell you that it’s a good idea to stay fit. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good, too. But sometimes, what starts as interest can turn into unhealthy obsession. And being consumed by a media/peer-hyped ideal of what we ‘should’ look like can have terrible consequences. That’s one reason I like Kerry Greenwood’s Corinna Chapman so much as a character. She owns a Melbourne bakery where she does what she truly loves: provide bread. Corinna is no sylph. But she doesn’t obsess about what the media says she ‘should’ look like; instead, here is her view:

‘I could not get that thin if I starved myself for ten years, and that is a fact. We are famine survivors, we fat women and ought to be valued for it. We must have been very useful when everyone else collapsed of starvation. We would have been able to sow the crops, feed the babies and keep the tribe alive until spring came. If you breed us out, what will you do when the bad times come again? At the very least, you could always eat us. I reckon I’d feed a family of six for a month.’

In my opinion, that’s a really healthy attitude.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from The Kinks’ (Wish I Could Fly Like) Superman.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Bev Robitai, G.A. McKevett, Kerry Greenwood, Rita Mae Brown, Yrsa Sigurðardóttir

Red, Red Wine, Stay Close to Me*


When you’re having a nice dinner or perhaps sitting in a wine bar, you may not think a lot about the work that goes into making that delicious glass of wine you’re enjoying. But it doesn’t get there by magic. Vintners take their work very seriously, and the best ones take great pride in producing memorable wines. It’s a tricky business too. An oenologist can tell you that producing great wine requires exactly the right mix of weather, grapes, fermenting, bottling and so on. It takes real dedication to make a success of a vineyard. And any number of things can happen in the process. What’s more, one bottle or batch of less-than-good wine can ruin a vineyard’s reputation. So a lot’s at stake too. But as those who enjoy wine know, a good glass of the right wine is a real treasure.

Vineyards feature quite a lot in crime fiction and that makes sense when you consider how important wine is in many cultures. I only have the space here for a few examples; I’m quite sure you can think of lots more.

Domingo Villar’s Inspector Leo Caldas lives and works in Vigo, in the Spanish region of Galicia. Galician wine has a world-class reputation for good reason. Trust me. And Caldas’ father is a part of that region’s vineyard culture. Since the death of his wife, Caldas’ father has built up the family vineyard little by little, and has gotten to the point where he’s producing some decent wine for which he has very high hopes. For him, growing grapes and making wine is not only a tribute to his late wife, but also a way to connect with the land and with growing things. To him, that’s real, if I may put it that way. And although his son is a cop and always will be, he does respect the process of wine making and when he visits the vineyard, he feels a sense of connection to his parents.

In Jill Paterson’s Once Upon a Lie, Sydney DI Alistair Fitzjohn and his assistant DS Martin Betts are seconded from their own Day Street station to the shortstaffed Kings Cross Police Station when the body of businessman Michael Rossi is discovered at a marina at Rushcutter’s Bay. There are several suspects in this murder, since a variety of people stand to benefit from Rossi’s death. One angle that the detectives pursue is Rossi’s interest in Five Oaks Winery, which has been in the family for a long time. The victim’s niece Charlotte is set to benefit from that connection and what’s more, Rossi had had real disagreements with some of the Five Oaks staff about running the vineyard. So on more than one level, the vineyard is a place of interest. The truth about the murder isn’t as simple as the tragic result of an argument, but the police do get some interesting background on the family, and readers get a look at New South Wales’ winemaking culture. When it comes to Australia’s superb wines, I can also personally vouch for South Australia’s McLaren Vale wines. Trust me.

California also produces some very well-known and highly-regarded wines. Northern California’s Napa and Sonoma Valleys in particular are known for their vineyards and wine-making. And there are plenty of mystery novels and series that take a look at the Northern California wine industry. For example, there’s Michele Scott’s cosy Wine Lovers series. This series features Nikki Sands, who began to be interested in wine when she was waiting tables between acting roles. When she’s hired on at a major Napa vineyard, she has no idea how dangerous it will be.

Wine expert Edward Finstein’s Pinot Envy features Woody Robins, a ‘wine guru’ whose specialty is rare wine artifacts. Powerful grape grower Walter Pendry has heard of Robins’ reputation, and Robins is the man he wants for a case of theft. Pendry’s the owner of a very rare double magnum of wine that was once owned by Napoleon. When his prize property is stolen, he hires Robins to get the bottle back. What starts as a case of theft turns into blackmail, Mob activity and murder. This novel is about the case of course, but it also shows readers the Napa food and wine culture.

At the beginning of Rita Mae Brown’s Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Haristeen series, her sleuth is the postmistress of the tiny town of Crozet, Virginia. She also manages her own small farm. As the series goes on, changes in the postal system mean that Harry leaves her job at the post office. But she still needs an income. So in Cat’s Eyewitnesses she decides to try her hand at winemaking. In Sour Puss, Crozet gets a visit from world-renowned oenologist Professor Vincent Forland. Harry is hoping he’ll be able to give her feedback on her grape growing and advice for making good wine. But before she can ask him, Forland disappears and is later found dead. So Harry has to look among the other winemakers in the area to find out who would have wanted to kill Forland and why.

And of course, I couldn’t discuss vineyards without mentioning Jean-Pierre Alaux and Noël Balen. Their Winemaker Detective series is only now being translated into English although it’s not a new series. Thus far two novels, Treachery in Bordeaux and Grand Cru Heist have been translated. The series features well-known and respected oenologist Benjamin Cooker and his assistant Virgile Lanssien. Between them, the two have an awful lot of expertise, which they bring to bear in Treachery in Bordeaux when a local vintner finds that some of his wine has been contaminated. In Grand Cru Heist, Cooker and Lanssien investigate when there are two murders and a theft of two priceless bottles of Grand Cru. All of these are connected with the hotel where Cooker is staying during a trip to the Loire Valley; they are also connected with his own Bordeaux region. This series gives readers an ‘inside’ look at what goes into the entire winemaking process, from growing the grapes to bottling and later selling the wine.

The process is a lot more complicated than you may think when you’re choosing whether to go with a Shiraz or a Cabernet Sauvignon with your meal. It involves a real commitment of time and effort, some ‘weather luck’ and a store of knowledge about how wine is made. And that vineyard context makes for some delicious crime fiction too. Space doesn’t permit me to mention all of the examples there are, but there are plenty of them. They range from cosy to darker, from sweet to dry, from hearty to light…. Well, you get the idea. Which vineyard-based crime fiction have you tasted?



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Neil Diamond’s Red, Red Wine, made popular by UB40.


Filed under Domingo Villar, Edward Finstein, Jean-Pierre Alaux, Jill Paterson, Michele Scott, Nöel Balen, Rita Mae Brown

It’s the Story of Your Life, You’re Moving Down the Page*

MaturingOne of the nice things about series is that the author has some room to allow the protagonist(s) to grow and mature. It’s harder in a standalone to show how a character evolves. And it makes sense that main characters would evolve and mature in some way as a series goes on. Time, experience and (hopefully) wisdom help us mature in real life and most readers want to see the same kind of growth in their fictional characters.

For instance, Dorothy Sayers’ Harriet Vane matures and evolves as Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey series goes on. When we first meet Vane in Strong Poison, she’s on trial for the murder of her former lover Philip Boyes. Wimsey falls in love with her and is determined to clear her name so he can marry her. At first, Vane keeps herself at a distance from people and is unwilling to trust. She’s grateful to Wimsey but isn’t ready to really open up to him. And although she’s hardly a ‘shrinking violet,’ she does lack some self-confidence despite her success as a mystery novelist. As time goes on, she deals with the trauma of having been thought guilty of murder. She also deals with the insecurity of worrying about what others think of her. By the end of Gaudy Night, she is ready to take the risk of agreeing to marry Wimsey and we can see her mature and become a more confident person. That growth and evolution makes Vane a more well-rounded and likeable character.

Tony Hillerman’s Jim Chee matures and evolves over time too. When we first meet him in People of Darkness, Chee investigates the murder of a man who was already dying, and its connection to a thirty-year-old oil field explosion and a stolen keepsake box. Chee is a member of the Navajo Nation, and his Navajo identity is very important to him. In fact he’s studying to be a yata’ali – a Navajo singer/healer. But Chee is also a member of the Navajo Tribal Police, and he’s quite familiar with the dominant U.S. culture in which the Navajo people live. What’s more, he’s in love with Mary Landon, a White teacher who lives and works on the Reservation. So at first Chee is torn between those two worlds. As time goes on and he matures, Chee also becomes surer of his identity and learns how to maintain his Navajo traditions and way of thinking despite the police work he does and his interactions with the FBI and other dominant-culture institutions. He evolves personally too although it costs him two serious relationships. When he meets and falls in love with fellow Navajo Tribal Police officer Bernadette ‘Bernie’ Maneulito, Chee is emotionally more mature and it makes sense that their relationship ends up being more lasting. We also see Chee’s evolution as a professional. At first, he tends to be more of a ‘go your own way’ type of investigator. But as time goes on he learns to work more smoothly within the police system, especially after he has the opportunity to do some supervisory work himself.

We also see a very human kind of growth and evolving maturity in Rita Mae Brown’s Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Haristeen. As the series featuring her begins, Harry is postmistress for the small Virginia town of Crozet. She is also smarting from her recent divorce from local veterinarian Pharamond ‘Fair’ Haristeen. What makes this divorce doubly painful is that Harry found out her husband was unfaithful. In Wish You Were Here, Harry gets involved in the murder of local building contractor Kelly Craycroft. As she investigates, we can see that although she’s likeable, she’s too unwilling to trust others or ask for help when she needs it. And honestly, she takes more risks than it makes sense for her to do. As the series goes on though, we see her becoming more mature. She learns to accept help both on the farm she runs and in her investigations. She takes fewer really dangerous risks too. And in her personal life, she becomes less judgemental. That growth makes more a more likeable character as the series goes on.

Even though Louise Penny’s Québec police inspector Armand Gamache is fairly mature as the series featuring him begins, there’s room for him to grow too and we see that as the series moves on. In Still Life, Gamache and his team investigate the supposedly accidental killing of beloved retired schoolteacher Jane Neal. One of the sub-plots in this novel is the hint we get that Gamache is facing serious repercussions from another case. Without giving away spoilers I can say that that case becomes a story arc and as later novels tell the story of that other case, we see how Gamache becomes more settled about it and learns to face it in a more self-confident and mature way. We also see how in Still Life, A Fatal Grace (AKA Dead Cold), The Cruelest Month and other novels in this series, Gamache faces some of his fears. For instance, he’s not especially comfortable with heights, but has to face that in Still Life. He feels haunted by a particular house (and with good reason) in the small town of Three Pines, where many of these novels take place. And yet he learns to go there and do what needs to be done. Those signs of growth make Gamache a more real character.

Martin Edwards’ DCI Hannah Scarlett does her share of maturing and growing too and what’s especially appealing about it is that she is still in the process. When we first meet Scarlett in The Coffin Trail, she is named to head the Cumbria Constabulary’s Cold Case Review team. That’s hardly a choice position and Scarlett was actually named to it because of her performance on an earlier case. So at first she’s dealing with a sense of failure and the insecurity of being the new leader of team whose respect she has to earn. It takes time but by the time of The Hanging Wood, Scarlett has learned some leadership skills and she’s more confident as she plans strategy, supervises her team and deals with her own bosses. Scarlett also does some personal growing. Throughout most of the novels in this series she lives with book dealer Marc Amos and although they care about each other, their relationship is certainly not an easy one. Amos is hardly a perfect ‘catch;’ he has his share of insecurities, immaturity and so on. But Scarlett isn’t exactly a self-confident, mature partner either. So as the series goes on, we see how she is held back by her need to do some growing of her own. The Frozen Shroud, the next entry in this Lake District series, is due to be released in April and I for one am very much looking forward to seeing how Hannah Scarlett continues to mature as a character.

In Anthony Bidulka’s Amuse Bouche, we meet Saskatoon PI Russell Quant, who has recently opened his own agency. He’s hired in this novel to find computer entrepreneur Tom Osborn, who disappeared just before his wedding to successful businessman Harold Chavell. When Osborn later turns up dead, Chavell becomes a suspect. So Quant investigates the murder to clear his client’s name. In this novel and the next few novels, Quant isn’t in a serious relationship but in the course of the series, he gets deeply involved twice. Each of those relationships teaches him about being responsible to other people and reaching out to them. He also learns a lot through the course of this series about being aware of others’ perspectives and the realities they face. Quant does some real maturing and growing up as the series continues and it makes him a more interesting and compassionate person.

And that’s the thing about characters who evolve with a series. We see how time and experience mature them and add to their richness. And that keeps a series interesting even after several novels. I know I’ve only mentioned a few examples. Which gaps have I left?


ps The ‘photos are of my lovely daughter as a child and recently, with her own daughter. I am so delighted at the way she’s grown up.



*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Five For Fighting’s Story of Your Life.


Filed under Anthony Bidulka, Dorothy Sayers, Louise Penny, Martin Edwards, Rita Mae Brown, Tony Hillerman

I’m In With the In Crowd*

Many people have a strong urge to belong – to be a part of the ‘in-group’ – especially if that group has a lot of status and power.  That desire to be in the ‘in-group’ is arguably part of the reason that some people become snobs, so that they only associate with ‘the right people’ and look down on others. Snobbery isn’t exactly the most attractive of traits, but it’s part of the human ‘package’ if you like to put it that way. And it’s sometimes an interesting reflection of deep-seated insecurity, and that can add some interesting layers to fictional characters.

Several of Agatha Christie’s novels include characters who are snobs. One of the more memorable is Marie Van Schuyler, whom we meet in Death on the Nile. Miss Van Schuyler is an extremely wealthy American ‘blueblood’ who takes a cruise of the Nile with her cousin Cornelia Robson and her private nurse Miss Bowers. Miss Van Schuyler is so obsessed with her social position that she refuses to speak to almost everyone else on board except her travel companions. Then one night another passenger Linnet Doyle is shot. Hercule Poirot is aboard the same cruise ship and he investigates the murder. Since Linnet Doyle was originally American Poirot asks Miss Van Schuyler whether she might have known her. Here is what she says about the very wealthy and beautiful victim:


‘As a family we have always prided ourselves on being exclusive…My dear mother would never have dreamed of calling upon any of the Hartz family [Linnet Doyle’s mother’s family] who, outside their wealth, were nobodies.’


This snobbery plays a role later in the novel too when Miss Van Schuyler discovers that another passenger is probably hiding a ‘blueblood’ identity.

There’s another interesting portrait of snobbery in Martha Grimes’ The Anodyne Necklace. When a dog discovers the bone of a human finger in the village of Littlebourne, Inspector Richard Jury has to change his holiday plans and travel there to investigate. Then avid bird-watcher Ernestine Craigie discovers the rest of the body in a nearby wood. The victim turns out to be Cora Binns, who worked for a London temporary services agency and who’d come to Littlebourne for a job interview. Jury’s friend Melrose Plant, who fans will know is a ‘blueblood’ himself by birth, goes to Littlebourne and takes part in the investigation under the pretense of looking for a new house. As he and Jury look into the case, we meet several of the locals, including the local squire Sir Miles Bodenheim and his family. He, his wife and his two children are heartily disliked; in fact mystery novelist Polly Praed likes to amuse herself by inventing all sorts of different deaths for each member of that family. Part of the reason for the Bodenheim family’s unpopularity is the way they look down on the other villagers. Sir Miles in particular is a snob and it’s interesting to see how he interacts with Melrose Plant, who has actually given up his title. In this novel snobbery isn’t the reason for Cora Binns’ murder, but it adds a layer of character development and an interesting thread of tension.

Snobbery plays a part in several of Rita Mae Brown’s novels featuring Mary Minor ‘Harry’ Haristeen. Harry lives in the tiny Virginia town of Crozet, where she is postmistress as the series begins.  Later she takes up farming full-time and also dabbles in wine-making. Harry is a Virginia ‘blueblood,’ one of the FFV (First Families of Virginia). She doesn’t have a lot of money but because of her status she often gets invited to ‘the best people’s’ homes. One of those people is the Queen of Crozet Marilyn ‘Big Mim’ Sanburne, another ‘blueblood’ who is very careful about whom she associates with and where she goes. Harry is a part of Big Mim’s social circle only because of her birth and it’s interesting to see how that snobbery plays out in the series. It’s also interesting to see the contrast between Big Mim’s view on social position and Harry’s. Harry is just as eligible if you will to be a snob, but she isn’t. Her circle of friends is quite eclectic.

Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher also has a very wide and varied circle of friends despite the fact that she’s a ‘blueblood.’ But snobbery does play a role in this series. In Cocaine Blues, for instance, the first in this series, Fisher is at an exclusive dinner party in London. During the evening, someone steals a valuable necklace from Madame St. Clair. Fisher discovers the thief, and when she first tells her father, he says,


‘What do you mean? Good family, goes back to the Conqueror.’


That snobbery almost, but not quite, protects the thief. When Fisher points out the culprit, she so impresses one guest that he asks her to take on a real challenge. His daughter Lydia has moved to Australia and he and his wife are concerned about her. They believe she may be in danger and they want Fisher to find out whether their fears are justified. Not having anything in particular to keep her in London, and wanting some adventure, Fisher travels back to her Melbourne home and begins to investigate. Her social position gains her entrée into the sort of circles in which Lydia moves and eventually, she finds out the truth about Lydia and along the way uncovers a very sleazy and dangerous criminal racket.

One of the funniest (at least in my opinion) portrayals of social snobbery is in Teresa Solana’s A Not so Perfect Crime. In that novel, Barcelona brothers Eduard and Josep ‘Borja’ Martínez are hired by powerful politician Lluís Font to find out whether his wife Lídia is having an affair. What starts as a straightforward job turns out to be much more complicated when Lídia is murdered and her husband becomes the main suspect. He begs the Martínez brothers to continue working for him and find out who the real killer is and although they’ve never done a murder investigation, they agree. The novel is a murder mystery but it’s also a satirical portrait of the Barcelona rich and powerful. Here, for instance, is a bit of a description of a lunch date Lídia Font has shortly before she is murdered:


‘..when lunching with a lady friend, women from a certain social class first go shopping in order to appear in the restaurant laden with bags and, so much the better if they’re the exclusive designer variety. It’s a matter of quality rather than quantity. This way I’ve learned that a single Loewe or Vuitton bag beats any number from Bulevard Rosa or the Corte Inglés, that Armani and Chanel level peg, and that Zara is a no-no. That is Borja’s Bags’ Law. And it’s not the only unwritten code that reigns in particular zones of Barcelona’s upper reaches.’ 


Snobbery also plays a role in the way especially Borja interacts with clients. He gets expensive haircuts, has a wealthy and generous mistress, wears the best clothes and eats in the ‘right’ places. The brothers’ office has fake inner office doors and a non-existent secretary, so as to keep up this appearance of belonging in the ‘in group.’ Although this pretense is funny, it’s also a piercing look at the extent of snobbery.

Snobbery plays a very important role in Riley Adams’ (AKA Elizabeth Spann Craig’s) Hickory-Smoked Homicide. In that novel, we are introduced to beauty pageant coach Tristan Pembroke. She’s wealthy, successful and extremely snobbish. So it’s no surprise that she’s made more than one enemy. One night Tristan is hosting an exclusive charity auction at her home. During the event she’s murdered. Local restaurant owner Lulu Taylor discovers the body and gets involved in the investigation when her daughter-in-law Sara is suspected of the murder.

It’s only natural to want to be a part of a group; most of us like that sense of belonging. Sometimes, though, that desire comes out as snobbishness. Not exactly an enviable human trait, but it can add some ‘spice’ to a crime novel.




*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Billy and Gene Page’s The In Crowd,  made popular by Dobie Gray.


Filed under Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Spann Craig, Kerry Greenwood, Martha Grimes, Riley Adams, Rita Mae Brown, Teresa Solana