WARNING: This post concerns works of detective fiction, which means that part of their potential enjoyment is based on surprising the reader. If you read this review, you are likely to find out more than you may want to know about these novels, although the identity of the murderer and many other significant details are not revealed here. If you proceed past this point, you’re on your own.
Sorry to have been absent for a while. I’m currently working on a larger piece about the nature of detective fiction … consider this your teaser preview. 😉 In the meantime, here’s something that struck me this morning as I was leafing through a copy of Ellery Queen’s The Egyptian Cross Mystery (1932).
I’ve never cared much for this book … to me it’s a bit overwrought, with the dramatic cross-country chase at the end showing all the signs of being arranged by the author and not the characters. And the poor old crazy guy who thinks he’s Egyptian is more to be pitied than suspected; he’s rather been wedged in there to add a reason for the title. Nevertheless there are some lovely bits of logical detection and this book has the honour of being the only murder mystery of which I’ve ever heard that features the game of checkers (draughts). And if you re-read the page immediately before the Challenge to the Reader, you’ll find that the central clue is my very favourite type of all — something that isn’t there. Most people can draw an inference from an object that’s present, but few are equipped to realize the significance of an object that’s absent.
As I was flipping through it this morning, I realized that this book is the “opposite” of two other books that it pre-dates. The theme of the three brothers is repeated in John Dickson Carr’s The Three Coffins (1935), with a very similar backstory originating in a very similar part of the world. But the plot concerning the brothers is — well, let’s call it “turned inside out” in Carr’s novel. I won’t say more for fear of spoiling your pleasure, but if you read both novels looking for ways that families of three brothers who emigrate from the Carpathian area are similar, you’ll have the ideal “compare and contrast” essay for your English professor ;-).
And the other “opposite” book is one of Queen’s own; The Chinese Orange Mystery (1934). The linking theme is in the case of Egyptian Cross the “tau” or letter T, and in Chinese Orange it’s the idea of “reversal”. I have to admit my second “opposite” might be considered stretching things a bit; truly Cross and Orange are kind of the same plot, in that all the bizarre circumstances surrounding various corpses have actually been created for the same reason, in order to obscure something that was a necessary and revealing act of the murderer. Both use the corpses themselves as a necessary part of the dramatic surroundings. But Orange is almost delicate in its avoidance of bloodshed and inability to identify the corpse, whereas Cross contains a string of decapitations and lashings of blood and violence.
You’ll make your own mind up about whether they’re opposites … interesting to think, though, that Carr and Queen took the same plot point within two years and wrote different novels around it. I may have to do some more re-reading to see if these gentlemen overlapped ideas in other ways.