These are the things that keep me awake on a hot summer day

[sovay]

I have begun re-reading Margery Allingham's Albert Campion mysteries for the first time since the editions we gave my mother to replace her previous collection drowned by a burst pipe were reprinted about fifteen to ten years ago. I had forgotten just how much more conventional and sensational the first few novels are than later experiments like the wartime espionage of Traitor's Purse (1941), the London noir of The Tiger in the Smoke (1952), the generational drama of The China Governess (1962), or the honest-to-God science fiction of The Mind Readers (1965), but in my eternal quest for the signposts of folk horror before it was a codified genre, I appreciate the following passage from Look to the Lady (1931):

They were unusually silent for the best part of the way but just before they entered the clearing Penny could contain her fears no longer.

"Professor," she said, "you know something. Tell me, you don't think this—phenomenon, I suppose you'd call it—is definitely supernatural?"

The old man did not answer her immediately.

"My dear young lady," he said at last, "if it turns out to be what I think it is, it's much more unpleasant than any ghost."

He offered no further explanation and she did not like to question him, but his words left a chill upon her, and the underlying horror which seems always to lurk somewhere beneath the flamboyant loveliness of a lonely English countryside in the height of summer, a presence of that mysterious dread, which the ancients called panic, had become startlingly apparent.

I had also forgotten that Campion on waking at half past four in the afternoon following an exciting night is told sternly by his ex-burglar manservant, "Pull yerself together. You remind me o' Buster Keaton when you're 'alf awake," which is a fascinating image in its own right and tantalizingly made me wonder—I advance this theory with a certain amount of self-skepticism—if there's either an error or an in-joke buried in this invocation of American silent comedians, because on no account could anyone call Keaton's face forgettable, but Harold Lloyd's was defined entirely by his horn-rimmed glasses.

Comments

[troisoiseaux]

Somewhere along the line I subconsciously decided that this would be the year I explore early-to-mid-20th century detective fiction that wasn't Christie or Sayers, and I keep discovering new authors to check out! I'll have to check Allingham out.

[sovay]

and I keep discovering new authors to check out! I'll have to check Allingham out.

I generally recommend her! It takes a few books for the series to find its feet—likewise the main character, since he started life with the serial numbers so barely filed off a certain other fair-haired aristocratic silly-ass-guised detective that I want to know how Sayers felt about it—but once it does, one of things I like most about the Campion novels is that they are all sorts of crime stories, from cozies to adventures to farces to romances to thrillers to the aforementioned parapsychological sci-fi, while the main cast grows and changes in real time and did so consistently from 1929 until the death of the author in 1966. (She left one unfinished novel which her husband completed, which I consider the last of the canonical Campions. I have read none of the further novels which he wrote independently or the more recent continuations of the series by Mike Ripley à la the Jill Paton Walsh Wimseys. I hope abstractly that they're good, but since they're not Allingham, I don't personally care about finding out.) I can't promise a zero on racism, classism, sexism etc., but most of the time I find her much less difficult on the choose-your-prejudice front than Christie or Marsh or Tey, and the one novel of hers which I actively dislike turns out to have been complicatedly personal in ways that made me understand at least what it was doing, although I still didn't like it. There are an absolute ton of Campion short stories, most of which I have never read due to no one collecting them in a thoughtful omnibus volume. As previously alluded, the 1989 BBC TV series is kind of scattershot as a version of the series, but if you like Peter Davison, it's totally worth checking out.

[troisoiseaux]

I can get the first two books on Libby! I'll have to see if my library has physical copies of the later ones.

the one novel of hers which I actively dislike turns out to have been complicatedly personal in ways that made me understand at least what it was doing

Out of curiosity (and possible mental note to avoid) which one is that?

[sovay]

I can get the first two books on Libby! I'll have to see if my library has physical copies of the later ones.

Good luck! You can also get almost all of them on Faded Page, if that supplies a suitable reading format for you—the missing novels look to be Traitor's Purse (1941), Hide My Eyes (1958), and the posthumous Cargo of Eagles (1968).

Out of curiosity (and possible mental note to avoid) which one is that?

The Fashion in Shrouds (1938). It's a pain in the ass because it's just about our only window on Campion in context of his family and it marks an important development in his romantic life as well, but it also features one of those last-minute hard-right turns of "professional woman abandons successful career for submissive marriage in long-desired fulfillment of her femininity" (n.b. not Campion's love interest: she's an aeronautical engineer and will stay that way for the rest of the series; it's great) which is presented as such a natural outcome that it's whiplashing, especially since it's couched in gender-essentialist terms which are not a regular feature of male-female relationships elsewhere in the series. I couldn't figure out what had happened until I found out that Allingham wrote the novel while almost having an extramarital affair; she finally made the decision against based partly on her belief that sexual desire and artistic drive were different expressions of the same creative energy and the demands of a second partner wouldn't leave anything over for her work. So I am fairly confident that she wrote what moon_custafer once called the "ooh, yes, darling, forbid me to have a career" ending as a kind of road not taken of her own choice, but it still comes out of narrative nowhere and burnt me on the entire romance, which is unfortunate for the book as a whole since that is the major plot thread after the murder.

[troisoiseaux]

not Campion's love interest: she's an aeronautical engineer and will stay that way for the rest of the series; it's great

Oh that's cool!!

I found out that Allingham wrote the novel while almost having an extramarital affair

That's........ a new one. Huh.

From a sample size of two, Patricia Wentworth's romance subplots tend to involve the male love interest proposing by saying "we're getting married now!" and, in the most recent case, straight-up talking about the lovely flat they're going to buy before even getting to that point, which Wentworth appears to find charming but several decades later (and let's be real, probably even then) comes across as uncomfortably pushy at best.

Which is to say, with the exception of Sayers, I'm not reading murder mysteries for the romantic subplots. That one definitely sounds annoying though.

[anna_wing]

Have you tried Gladys Mitchell? I like her best among the writers of that era, I think.

[sovay]

Have you tried Gladys Mitchell?

My mother had some of her mysteries before the flood! I don't remember that I read any of them myself, but I recognize the name.

[ethelmay]

I always think I am going to like Gladys Mitchell better than I do. All of her books feel to me as if some others must be better, if you see what I mean. But I was greatly amused to find that Edward Eager pretty much stole Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley for one of his late books (whether The Well-Wishers or Magic or Not?, or both, I can never recall).

[sovay]

But I was greatly amused to find that Edward Eager pretty much stole Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley for one of his late books (whether The Well-Wishers or Magic or Not?, or both, I can never recall).

Whoa. I've read both of those, but not since childhood, and would not have been equipped to detect this borrowing.

[troisoiseaux]

I have not! I've read (besides Christie and Sayers) Ngaio Marsh, Patricia Wentworth, and Christianna Brand, and I'm currently reading one by John Dickson Carr. I'll have to put her on the list!

[ethelmay]

There are a bunch very cheap on Kindle, but not, alas, on Kobo. The one I really want to read, which is not a mystery but a girls' career novel, On Your Marks, is not among them.

[anna_wing]

Mitchell was very prolific, and some of her books have been reprinted.

There was also a TV series, "The Mrs Bradley Mysteries", starring the late, great, Dame Diana Rigg, who did not suit the books' description of the character ("shrivelled", "saurian") but perfectly caught her velociraptor charm. It was also a delightful parade of gorgeous 1920s frocks and hats.

[nineweaving]

Snap! I re-read the Campion mysteries earlier this year. The folded fiancée is glimpsed back at her professional work in one of the later books, but I can't remember which. That doesn't undo the mischief, sadly.

Nine

[sovay]

The folded fiancée is glimpsed back at her professional work in one of the later books, but I can't remember which. That doesn't undo the mischief, sadly.

I couldn't remember if she reappeared! I am glad to hear it, although I still haven't decided if I am going to re-read The Fashion in Shrouds.

[gwynnega]

I have never read Allingham, but I'm intrigued that the Campion series experiments with so many genres.

[sovay]

I have never read Allingham, but I'm intrigued that the Campion series experiments with so many genres.

I am not sure I have encountered another long-running series that does the same thing—at least not while remaining mysteries. I really expected the title of The Mind Readers to be a metaphor. It was not.

[watersword]

Do you have a recommendation for where to start with this series?

[ethelmay]

I would recommend Sweet Danger/The Fear Sign as the first in the series I care about.

[sovay]

Do you have a recommendation for where to start with this series?

I started from the beginning and am re-reading the same way, partly because I enjoy watching the series figure itself out, but ethelmay's recommendation of Sweet Danger (1931) is a good one: Campion has settled into his canonical self, so either you will or won't like him on his own merits, the plot is a good example of an early adventure with individual rather than conventional eccentricity, and it introduces the important character of Amanda Fitton. You can always go back for the earlier ones if so minded.

[between4walls]

Tiger in the Smoke as a title confused me, I was like, wasn't that a Philip Pullman book set in London? Turns out I was mashing together two books, the not-very-good Ruby in the Smoke and the much superior Tiger in the Well. Neither of which is the book you are mentioning.

[sovay]

wasn't that a Philip Pullman book set in London? Turns out I was mashing together two books, the not-very-good Ruby in the Smoke and the much superior Tiger in the Well.

I wonder if Pullman read Allingham.

(I suspect The Tiger in the Smoke can be read on its own. It's the one Campion novel that was adapted for film, in 1956; minus Campion, naturally.)

[ethelmay]

Allingham's war memoir The Oaken Heart: The Story of an English Village At War is worth reading, too (available on Kindle but apparently not Kobo). Especially if you're a particular fan of The Beckoning Lady, which I think may be the Allingham I reread most often.

Huh, Kobo has something called The Dance of the Years: "Published as The Galantrys in America, Dance of the Years is one of Margery Allingham's oft overlooked novels. Originally published in 1943, it is a fictionalised account of Allingham's family heritage, which she insisted as the closest records of the facts.

"First published in 1943, Dance of the Years centres on the birth and growth of James, the fictional representative of Margery's great-grandfather who was 'born in 1800 and left ten thousand pounds and the injunction that no gentleman ever works'. The offspring of a Georgian country gentleman and a gypsy, James becomes an early-Victorian success, devoting his riches to becoming a gentleman and establishing a family name."

It rings a very faint bell, possibly because I heard of it in a biography of Allingham.

[sovay]

Allingham's war memoir The Oaken Heart: The Story of an English Village At War is worth reading, too (available on Kindle but apparently not Kobo).

I will look for it in used book stores; I don't think I knew it existed. Thank you.

It rings a very faint bell, possibly because I heard of it in a biography of Allingham.

I'd heard about her family heritage, but not that she'd novelized it!