Monday, June 28, 2004
The Big Bow Mystery, by Israel Zangwill
This is arguably the first 'locked-room' mystery novel (1892 UK; 1895 US), that is, a detective story in which the puzzle aspect is the critical element of the plot rather than being an ancillary item, as it was in Le Fanu's Uncle Silas, for example. It is also a pre-Golden-Age-of-Detection prototype in that it follows the rules of 'fair play' by providing the evidence for the solution in the form of clues imbedded in the text, supplies alternative solutions and suspects -- the classic 'red herring' approach -- and has a 'least-likely' suspect as the villain. All that it is lacking is what we would call a proper detective who out-thinks the reader.
Another aspect of the book is what one could call social realism, not a critical part of classic detection but often of great interest to the curious reader who enjoys some 'local color' or an interesting setting beyond what is presumably his/her personal milieu. In this, Zangwill resembles his contemporary mystery writer, Arthur Morrison, who wrote stories about Martin Hewitt, a 'rival of Sherlock Holmes', but is more famous for his novels about London's East End slums (Tales of Mean Streets, A Child of the Jago, etc.). Zangwill was more famous as a Zionist and socialist, and as a novelist of the Morrison sort -- Children of the Ghetto, for example. In both cases, this leads to a style that is surprisingly modern in its attitude and avoids what some consider the stodginess of the Victorians and Edwardians (on the surface at least). A dry wit is not the least of his virtues: "But it is difficult for saints to see through their own haloes; and in practice an aureola about the head is often indistinguishable from a mist."
The plot of The Big Bow Mystery involves the murder of a well-known 'Union Agitator' (Arthur Constant), his throat being cut in his East End bed-sit flat, door locked and bolted and the windows inaccessible, no weapon to be found, hence not a suicide. An obvious suspect is his rival in labor politics and in love, but he (Tom Mortlake) has a good alibi, supposedly on a train to Liverpool when the murder was committed, even though he had had a fight with deceased the night before. The details are revealed in an amusing coroner's inquest that covers the forensics, establishes various identities, and comes up with a strange open verdict: "It seems clear that the deceased did not commit suicide. It seems equally clear that the deceased was not murdered. There is nothing for it, therefore, gentlemen, but to return a verdict tantamount to an acknowledgement of our incompetence to come to any adequately grounded conviction whatever as to the means or the manner by which the deceased met his death." After this, follows a nice set-piece about Press Frenzy, including letters to the editor providing solutions, some reasonable, some off the wall. Two rival detectives are heavily involved in trying to solve the case, the retired policeman George Grodman (who discovered the body in company with Constant's landlady Mrs Drabdump) and Inspector Edward Wimp of Scotland Yard. ["The two men were always overwhelmingly cordial when they met, in order to disguise their mutual detestation."] Wimp, of course, has his own conclusion, regardless of mere facts, and ends up arresting Mortlake at a Liberal rally in the presence of Gladstone himself; Mortlake escapes during the resulting near riot. A key character is Mortlake's friend Denzil Cantercot, a reporter for The New Pork Herald (!), hack writer -- and in fact the ghost-writer of Grodman's Memoirs, for which he hasn't been paid.
Mortlake turns himself in, cleverly at a local cop shop, so as to deny Wimp the credit, and is duly committed for trial -- another nice set piece, ending in a travesty guilty verdict after the judge's summing up. ["Having thus well-nigh hung the prisoner, the judge wound up by insisting on the high probability of the story for the defense... The jury, being by this time being sufficiently muddled by his impartiality, were dismissed... 'Guilty'. The judge put on his black cap. The great reception arranged outside was a fiasco; the evening banquet was indefinitely postponed. Wimp had won; Grodman felt like a whipped cur."] There follows, a week or two later, the dramatic rescue of Mortlake from the gallows and the ultimate solution, which of course shall not be revealed here.
All in all, this is a delightful mystery with a full complement of puzzle elements. One point not to be neglected is that it is also a novella -- 100 pages or so -- but still manages to pack in as much detail as a much longer detective novel such as is produced routinely these days would do. A model of concision, good plotting, and sufficient background and characterization to maintain interest at a high level.
Another aspect of the book is what one could call social realism, not a critical part of classic detection but often of great interest to the curious reader who enjoys some 'local color' or an interesting setting beyond what is presumably his/her personal milieu. In this, Zangwill resembles his contemporary mystery writer, Arthur Morrison, who wrote stories about Martin Hewitt, a 'rival of Sherlock Holmes', but is more famous for his novels about London's East End slums (Tales of Mean Streets, A Child of the Jago, etc.). Zangwill was more famous as a Zionist and socialist, and as a novelist of the Morrison sort -- Children of the Ghetto, for example. In both cases, this leads to a style that is surprisingly modern in its attitude and avoids what some consider the stodginess of the Victorians and Edwardians (on the surface at least). A dry wit is not the least of his virtues: "But it is difficult for saints to see through their own haloes; and in practice an aureola about the head is often indistinguishable from a mist."
The plot of The Big Bow Mystery involves the murder of a well-known 'Union Agitator' (Arthur Constant), his throat being cut in his East End bed-sit flat, door locked and bolted and the windows inaccessible, no weapon to be found, hence not a suicide. An obvious suspect is his rival in labor politics and in love, but he (Tom Mortlake) has a good alibi, supposedly on a train to Liverpool when the murder was committed, even though he had had a fight with deceased the night before. The details are revealed in an amusing coroner's inquest that covers the forensics, establishes various identities, and comes up with a strange open verdict: "It seems clear that the deceased did not commit suicide. It seems equally clear that the deceased was not murdered. There is nothing for it, therefore, gentlemen, but to return a verdict tantamount to an acknowledgement of our incompetence to come to any adequately grounded conviction whatever as to the means or the manner by which the deceased met his death." After this, follows a nice set-piece about Press Frenzy, including letters to the editor providing solutions, some reasonable, some off the wall. Two rival detectives are heavily involved in trying to solve the case, the retired policeman George Grodman (who discovered the body in company with Constant's landlady Mrs Drabdump) and Inspector Edward Wimp of Scotland Yard. ["The two men were always overwhelmingly cordial when they met, in order to disguise their mutual detestation."] Wimp, of course, has his own conclusion, regardless of mere facts, and ends up arresting Mortlake at a Liberal rally in the presence of Gladstone himself; Mortlake escapes during the resulting near riot. A key character is Mortlake's friend Denzil Cantercot, a reporter for The New Pork Herald (!), hack writer -- and in fact the ghost-writer of Grodman's Memoirs, for which he hasn't been paid.
Mortlake turns himself in, cleverly at a local cop shop, so as to deny Wimp the credit, and is duly committed for trial -- another nice set piece, ending in a travesty guilty verdict after the judge's summing up. ["Having thus well-nigh hung the prisoner, the judge wound up by insisting on the high probability of the story for the defense... The jury, being by this time being sufficiently muddled by his impartiality, were dismissed... 'Guilty'. The judge put on his black cap. The great reception arranged outside was a fiasco; the evening banquet was indefinitely postponed. Wimp had won; Grodman felt like a whipped cur."] There follows, a week or two later, the dramatic rescue of Mortlake from the gallows and the ultimate solution, which of course shall not be revealed here.
All in all, this is a delightful mystery with a full complement of puzzle elements. One point not to be neglected is that it is also a novella -- 100 pages or so -- but still manages to pack in as much detail as a much longer detective novel such as is produced routinely these days would do. A model of concision, good plotting, and sufficient background and characterization to maintain interest at a high level.
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