Investigations in Scarlet: Auguste Dupin and Orthodoxy · 9:19pm Sep 3rd, 2016
What is the essence of a mystery story?
Depending on which author you ask, you can get a ridiculous number of sometimes-contradictory responses to this question. Science fiction, fantasy, and horror are forms of genre fiction that occasionally bleed into each other and inform each other, creating subgenres and sub-subgenres, but for the most part they all conjure a coherent, unified image. Mystery does that too, but that image has shifted drastically over time in ways that are astounding considering how young the genre is. The roots of fantasy date back to mixtures of ancient myth, Arthurian legends, and chivalric romances. Horror has existed alongside and within fairy tales as long as they have been told. Science fiction is also a newcomer to the world, but even it can be dated back to as early as the publication of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus in 1818. By contrast, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue", the first instance of recorded detective fiction, wasn't published until the year 1841*. Science fiction is two years away from its bicentennial birthday. Detective fiction hasn't even managed to hit 175 yet, and it's still managed to split into categorized genres and sub-genres that are not only widely enjoyed but also widely recognized. The golden-age detective, the hard-boiled detective, the "cozy" mystery, the psychological mystery, and more besides are still being written and iterated on. There are innovative mysteries being constructed right now that are, in all likelihood, younger than I am. That is super exciting.
Of course, it's possible to say that about any genre. What does not evolve eventually dies, and no story manages to withstand the passage of time without being changed to accommodate popular tastes, modern sensibilities, or the visions of particular creators and audiences. What makes detective fiction exciting to me is that it has so much further that it can evolve. We're just beginning to scratch the surface of how and where and in what contexts it works, and what you can develop from it. Hell, there's a mystery story on this site I've read in the past month that pushes boundaries and - yes, yes, it's Last Dreams of Pony Island, you're right.
But before I talk about that, I want to talk a bit about the origin of detective fiction, because - in the words of Dickens - "if this is not distinctly understood, then nothing wonderful can come of the story I am about to relate."
What gets overlooked in most discussion of detective fiction is how it evolved between each of the three Auguste Dupin stories that gave birth to it in the English-speaking world. Most essays I've found on golden age mysteries seem to skip straight from Dupin to Holmes, with maybe a nod or two to Lecoq as they pass by. I think it's an understandable oversight given just how much of detective fiction since Holmes has had to live in his shadow, but it's also one that leaves out an interesting progression of ideas in detective fiction itself within the work of a single writer. "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" is the first detective story, but it's also a violation of what became the "rules" of orthodox detective fiction. I'm saving an exploration of Father Knox for later down the line, but for now it's enough to establish that whenever I say "orthodox detective fiction" I'm referring specifically to stories where the criminal is introduced in the early part of the story, the detective solves the crime through rational processes and without using any clues that are concealed from the reader or designed to "cheat" them, and supernatural elements are eschewed in favor of creating a scenario that is as transparent as possible for the reader. "Murders in the Rue Morgue" is actually not, by this standard, an orthodox mystery. Nobody so much as mentions an orangutan in the first few pages of the story, most of which are spent on talking up Detective Dupin. The evolution of the idea of mystery as meant-to-be-solved-by-reader was yet to take root in detective fiction.
That changes somewhat in Poe's next Dupin story, "The Mystery of Marie Rogêt", serialized between 1842 and 1843. This is the first instance of a human culprit in detective fiction, and yet also the first instance of a mystery that takes no interest in the specific identity of the culprit. Dupin solves the crime, but he seems to delight in unraveling the killer's methods more than he does specifically pointing out his identity - though he does give the police the means of finding the culprit for themselves. Again, the draw here is the methods Dupin is using and his genius. It's also, however, an actual challenge to the reader even if by accident. "Marie Rogêt" is a stand in for Mary Cecilia Rogers, whose unsolved death Poe was making an attempt at presenting his solution to through fiction, in a way challenging authorities and the readers to see if they can prove any part of it wrong. It wasn't Poe's only time publishing this kind of essay, either - here's Poe solving the problem of a chess-playing automaton., written and published some five years before the first Dupin story.
The final Dupin story, "The Purloined Letter", is even less of an orthodox mystery, but even more of a shrine to detective genius. The entire draw is following Dupin's methods as he explains not only how he was able to deduce the hiding place of a letter (an explanation which, incidentally, borders on farce if you take the logic behind it too far) but also how he acquired the letter in order to return it to its rightful owner.
If an orthodox mystery is basically an implicit challenge to the reader, the three Dupin stories are more braggadoccio than anything else. They're an extended solution with a pre-constructed problem, a parlor scene that takes place as close to the start of the novel as possible. It's worth noting that Poe himself seemed a bit flippant about the whole thing, stating at one point that there wasn't anything really impressive about untangling a web that he wove for the specific purpose of untangling it.
The reason Dupin is the origin point of what I'm calling the orthodox mystery story is because he embodies the figure of challenge almost all of these stories present. If the draw of detective fiction is the figure of the detective, the draw of orthodox detective fiction in particular is in presenting a brilliant fictional character and challenging the reader to match wits with them. Dupin's eccentric, borderline arrogance and self-assurance provide a strong base for the figure of the detective as challenger. Watson's initial antagonism with Holmes in "A Study in Scarlet" takes some of this subtext and makes it literal - the reader is meant to want to one-up the detective and beat them at their own game, only to be frustrated and bamboozled by the author's narrative twists and turns. Without Dupin and his (stupid) orangutan, I highly doubt we'd have seen characters like Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot who antagonize their respective Watsons, in some cases deliberately, in the course of forming solutions to unlikely problems. I think there's a strong argument to be made that the essence of a detective story is the essence that Doyle and Poe seem most interested in throughout their short stories: the brilliance of the detective method as they effortlessly triumph over the problems they are presented with, leaving readers in awe.
Of course, that's not the conclusion every mystery author has come to about the essence of a mystery story. And for the next piece of our investigation, we're turning to the perspective of one of the most fascinating mystery novelists you might not have ever heard of: Souji Shimada, the father of New Orthodox.
*There are technically older stories that are sometimes talked about as the precursors of detective fiction, but "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" is the origin of English detective fiction and also the first time the crucial elements of crime/rational pursuit/shocking twist conclusion are all combined into a single short story.
I'd agree that the detective is the main draw of the mystery story. Bad Horse posted a few blog posts on the subject and drew similar conclusions. He argues that the logical brilliance of detective like Holmes sets them apart from others, essentially allowing them to comment on society as outsiders. However, the isolation of the detective and their inability to solve human relationships with the ease that they solve crimes shows that human relationships and human society cannot be understood logically.
4190819 Yeah, I'd read those, and I found both very compelling in that regard. I'm moving into a slightly different viewpoint next time, and I really wanted to make sure I expressed this, because it's the tension between those two views of classic detective fiction that kind of informs my final thesis.
4190853 Great. Looking forward to reading those posts.
It rained. I hated the rain.
It had been pouring down for an hour now and most people sat in the comfort of their homes, such as they were. Thankful for the relief the rain would bring from the scorching summer heat they opened their doors. I knew better.
It was garbage day and the rain would mix with the filth, spreading it across every street and gutter like the OC's, self inserts, and Sues on the web. The condensing water would make the stench reach sky high and envelop the city. Suffocating anything good or precious.
I had my doors closed and my windows shut. It was only going to get worse.
I was tight on entertainment, like always, and was scouring the web for every scrap I could find. The days of witnessing Deviantart vore, Sonic inflation, and worse had changed me. Even though I had been standing on the sidelines, always on the sidelines thank god, it had still changed me. I wasn't picky anymore. If a fic was good, I took it. No questions asked. Answers only brought trouble.
I had done well for myself, I supposed. I had joined a fandom and even set up a little account for myself. It was more than a man could hope for if he could stomach to ignore the red and black alicorns and anons.
I always kept two things on my webpage: a loaded gun and a full bottle. To keep trouble away and to forget troubles respectively. But the internet has a way of dragging you down with it.
I saw a notification on my page. I took a swig of Mountain Dew and clicked on it. And in walked trouble, with an anime avatar and the longest pair of blogs I had ever seen.
The broad went on about the structure of stories and the nature of what made a story poor. Real high end stuff that flew over my head most of the time, but I was intrigued. Intrigue was more than the web needed to dig its claws in you and swallow you whole. I knew that. I had seen it happen to better men than me. But there was a case that needed solving, and the entertainment was good.
I clicked on the "post comment" button and started typing as the rain pattered down on the streets.
I hated the rain
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Sudden thought. I'm not particularly well versed in detective stories, so I wonder:
Is there such a thing as an intuitivist detective, solving mysteries not through logic but through intuition and keen understanding of social relationships?
I suspect Father Brown might qualify at least a little, but are there other examples?
4191174 I'm not very well versed in detective stories either, but Father Brown seems like a good example. He still fulfills the role as an outsider to modern society, though, for religious & cultural reasons.
4191174 Depending on how you look at her, Miss Marple qualifies. While her age and upbringing cause people to underestimate her she's actually quite social, well integrated into the life of her little village of St. Mary Mead, and directly solves most crimes she's confronted with simply by remembering the parallel facts in other incidences she's encountered.
Like at one point she specifically mentions intuiting a murderer because she can just 'tell' that he means to do away with his wife.
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...And then I remembered another essay. :)
Strictly speaking, they all qualify. While Holmes appears to be using logical reasoning, the process by which he procures evidence for that reasoning is baseless conjecture through and through. It's been ridiculed consistently, because in its essence this is a magical process, but it's part of the rules of the game. The Detective is always an alien, magical creature. You can't beat them by noticing something better than they do, you can only do that by making conclusions from it faster.
4191264 Yup. I don't know where I'm sneaking in discussion of it, but one thing I find fascinating about detective fiction is that the real trick to mastering it is in the art of not being smarter than the reader, necessarily, but being able to convince the reader - even for a few minutes - that this character is smarter than them. It doesn't have to be plausible, it just has to feel so plausible that you're impressed by it, even for a moment.
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...which is why I can't write a proper mystery: I'm way too pretentious. :)
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Perhaps detective are just like superheroes in that they appeal to our sense of justice and the notion that powerful beings in the world are out there to protect us against evil. However, instead of using superhuman strength or other superhuman abilities, detectives show superhuman intelligence and solve crimes through reason rather than brute force. Whereas some of the classic detectives (like Homes) might represent classic, morally pure heroes like superman, the flawed, hard-boiled detectives would be akin to the more morally ambiguous anti-heroes in modern superhero stories.
4191306 Given the relative youth of superhero stories and overlap with detective stories, it's probably the other way around - antiheroes emerged from the same literary pressures and concepts that spawned the hard-boiled detective. The hard-boiled detective was also sort of a direct response to golden age detectives because while golden age detectives tend to be okay with the system they're a part of - count how many are aristocrats or independently wealthy, it's painfully obvious if you read any of the Marple/Poirot stories - the hard-boiled detective is just some guy and he's probably dealing with a crooked city with relatively few good men, and he isn't perfect but he's the best they've got.
It's not so much that the hard-boiled detective is a morally ambiguous figure as it is the fact that he's usually forced by circumstance and the kind of people he deals with to go further and fight harder. The police are good people you can trust, if a bit clueless, in Christie. That's not true of Hard-Boiled Detective novels, where they can be bribed, corrupted, or even antagonistic to the protagonist for no good reason.
I think it's not so much that detectives appeal to our sense of protection either - they rarely, for instance, manage to stop a murder from happening - as they appeal to a sense of Justice existing. Detectives aren't there so much to protect the innocent as they are to punish the guilty. One of my favorite moments in the entire Christie bibliography is the point at which she makes this subtext into actual text by having Miss Marple experience an epiphany where she realizes how ruthless she is, and accepting a job where she has been hired to become "Nemesis" - righteous vengeance.
It's a Christie thing in particular, but it runs through Doyle and many others in the same circle. Murders hang, and if they don't hang they kill themselves, and if they don't kill themselves they are not long for this world. The few exceptions I can think of are Murder on the Orient Express where the culprit is exonerated because the victim was himself receiving divine comeuppance for unfathomably evil crimes, and Five Little Pigs, where nothing happens to the murderer but it's implied their life is empty and that their crime ultimately destroyed much of what allowed them to enjoy life.
Honestly I'd argue that if we're looking at social appeal, the golden age detective novel is appealing because it makes us feel like the system works and justice will be served and no man shall profit from their sins. The appeal of the hard-boiled detective is that it confirms our suspicion that things are otherwise, but assures us that good people still exist, rough around the edges though they may be.
I really can't wait to work on the next part of this, because part of why I love Souji Shimada is that he has a completely different take on all of this, and it's such a unique one from within the field of detective fiction that I think it needs to be shared.
This much more eloquently expresses the idea I was trying to argue.
I have nothing to add here — being less familiar with the history of the genre, there's nothing I can reasonably supplement nor dissent with, so I'm sitting here like a student raptly listening to an engaging lecture — but this is fascinating stuff. Thank you.
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And thank you as well for bringing a giant grin to my afternoon.
A commenter let herself in, all smooth holey legs and hypnotising eyes, and right away I knew she'd be trouble …