It provides a harmless escape for a while into a fictional world where we forget nastiness like religious bigotry, racial prejudice, caste injustice or class inequality. We identify with that world casting aside, temporarily, our own grievances, meanness, anger and angst. We are provided with a respite by means of which we may emerge whole, once more to face our share of reality. The ease and felicity of reading such detective fiction has often been the gateway through which foreign languages have been learned and the habit of reading inculcated. So if you do enjoy classic detective fiction, feel blessed and vindicated, and if you have not yet sampled it, do venture to do so. It can be richly rewarding writes Juthika Patankar, a former civil servant.
Detective fiction or the ‘rahasya katha’ (in Indian languages) or the ‘roman policier’ (in French) has always been one of the most popular genres in literature. Classic detective fiction in English reached its apogee in the period between the two World Wars and this period is called the Golden Age of Detective Fiction. The most prominent authors of this time were four women novelists, namely, Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Margery Allingham and Ngaio Marsh.
Although the Golden Age of detective fiction did not extend beyond World War II, the features of such a type of detective fiction remain enduringly popular and continue to crop up every now and then right upto our day. Nor has this been confined to British fiction. Indian readers are familiar with this genre in the Feluda stories of Satyajit Ray or those by Saradindu Bandopadhyay featuring his sleuth Byomkesh Bakshi who styles himself as a Satyanveshi or truth-seeker. There are surely many more such stories in different Indian languages.
Classic detective fiction of this kind differed significantly from other crime novels. The main thrust of this writing was the creation of an intricately-plotted story, a puzzle which had to be solved. The author provided the reader with sufficient clues to crack the puzzle. These stories were ‘whodunits’ and eschewed overt violence, blood or crime committed by mafia or organised gangs. The characters in the story were not persons depicted with psychological depth or detailed character analysis. They were recognisable types such as the family doctor, the local schoolteacher, the wealthy socialite or the retired army officer. The setting of the story had necessarily to be confined in space if not always in time, so the settings varied from the typical English village upper to middle-class society to an English country house or a ship at sea, a train journey or a theatre group, in fact any kind of a closed setting. (Such settings have been most convincingly transformed in the Indian context by writers like Satyajit Ray and Saradindu Bandopadhyay).
There were set rules for writing this kind of detective story and the two names associated with laying down these rules were an Englishman named Ronald Knox and an American, S S Van Dine. Interestingly, Knox was an English Catholic priest who also wrote detective fiction and established his rules known as the Ten Commandment in 1929. S S Van Dine was almost an exact contemporary of Knox and he gave his rules in 1928. These rules laid down, inter alia, that the detective had to be an amateur crime-solver; the culprit could not be anybody brought into the story at the last moment; the solution could not rely on the supernatural or on coincidences; no hitherto undiscovered poisons could be used; all clues to be fairly shared with the reader etc. In fact the underlying principle was that the reader assisted by the clues and known facts had an equally fair chance of solving the mystery as had the amateur detective.
As can be inferred then, the psychology of the reader of such fiction was usually the type of person who enjoys crossword puzzles, armchair problems and has no wish to involve himself or herself with the ugly immediate reality of violent crime. He or she prefers to enjoy the story, work through the clues and solve the puzzle, all the while remaining aloof from any realistic conception of dark or problematic characters. The reader is shielded from the brutality of the crime and its sordid reality by the story being presented as a puzzle to be solved. The fear and thrills induced by the suspense are only chilling enough to give pleasure, not to disturb, depress or darken the reader’s mind.
What is the reason for the timeless appeal that this particular kind of story-writing has had for millions of readers across the world? The explanation can be found in a variety of reasons.
At the heart of most normal persons of a certain level of intelligence and decency, is a desire for order and for justice and for a certain kind of predictability. The real world in which we live is fraught with hardships, uncertainties, nameless fears and a host of problems, big and small. There is uncomfortable inequality in incomes, access to comforts and opportunities, to health and education and to relative luxuries. Classic detective fiction provides an escape from the harsh real world. In this fictional world, in the end, the bad will be punished, the good will be recognised and rewarded and the tensions in society would subside into harmony for all. What we do not often witness in real life, we can at least experience to our full contentment and sense of rightness in this type of fiction.
The poetic justice in this genre of fiction is enormously satisfying to the reader. S/he is reassured that within the covers of the book, the evil will be punished and removed and the good will be rewarded. The disturbance and upset caused by the crime will be tidily solved and order restored. There is vicarious satisfaction in this for the reader because such resolution is rarely seen in real life.
The problem-solving and working-out of the clues affords great pleasure to the reader as it seems to be a particularly enjoyable kind of intellectual exercise. Imagination and reasoning ability is tested just enough to be gratifying and not frustrating. And if the author has crafted the novel or the story competently, the reader has no serious grievance at not having reached the solution. Instead s/he enjoys and savours the shock ending or surprise twist with great appreciation.
Fear and the sinister have always provided thrills so long as they remain within certain limits. The reader is stimulated and alerted to a pleasurable but ultimately manageable sense of danger and excitement. Classic detective fiction does not rely on the supernatural, the horrific or the dangerously violent to provide the thrill of spine-chilling fear. Instead it slyly draws attention to the sinister or the mysterious in everyday life, in routine actions taken for granted and in the perfectly ordinary persons the reader encounters in quotidian existence. This kind of stumbling upon something unexplained and frightening by its deviation from utter normality induces pleasurable thrills of anticipation in the reader.
‘Cosy’ is the adjective most often used, affectionately, to describe classic detective fiction. The image it conjures up, of settling in a favourite chair or sofa with the delightful expectation of an enjoyable mystery, accompanied by a comforting cup of tea or coffee is most alluring.
Perhaps no more succinct explanation of the charm of detective fiction can be found than in the words of Robert Barnard in his book, “A Talent to Deceive – An appreciation of Agatha Christie”. To quote, “She created a timeless, changeless world, peopled by cardboard characters who somehow manage to maintain our interest in that dazzling, conjuring trick that is to be performed on page 190. She nourished our instinctive hopes that in the end right and truth will triumph over the evil and the obscure. And she brought murder into the home, where it belonged, seeing the murderous glint in the eye of the self-effacing bank clerk, the homicidal madness in the flutterings of the genteel lady companion…Christie saw it (evil) in our wives, our friends, the quiet circle of which we are a part. And perhaps thereby she made us sense it in ourselves.”
Serious literary criticism has not always smiled upon this genre of literature, indeed some stern critics refuse to recognise detective fiction as literature. But the case for classic detective fiction remains a strong and lasting one.
It provides a harmless escape for a while into a fictional world where we forget nastiness like religious bigotry, racial prejudice, caste injustice or class inequality. We identify with that world casting aside, temporarily, our own grievances, meanness, anger and angst. We are provided with a respite by means of which we may emerge whole, once more to face our share of reality. The ease and felicity of reading such detective fiction has often been the gateway through which foreign languages have been learned and the habit of reading inculcated. So if you do enjoy classic detective fiction, feel blessed and vindicated, and if you have not yet sampled it, do venture to do so. It can be richly rewarding.
(Ms. Juthika Patankar is a visiting faculty in Gokhale Institute of Politics and Economics, a member of Pune International Centre and a former civil servant. Views expressed are personal.)
