Unnatural Death by Dorothy L. Sayers
Aug. 21st, 2021 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
regshoeI bounced off the second Lord Peter Wimsey book a few years ago, but I do like classic murder mysteries in general and some recent discussion of this one made me think it might be especially interesting, so I decided to give the series another go...
Unnatural Death (1927) opens with Lord Peter and his detective friend Charles Parker hearing a strange story from a doctor whom they meet by chance in a restaurant. Some time ago, a patient of this doctor's—an old woman with terminal cancer—died suddenly at a time when the doctor expected her to live for some time longer. A post-mortem found no reason to suspect anything other than natural causes, but the doctor still has his suspicions... and, after hearing them, Lord Peter decides to investigate.
As a murder mystery it's a slightly odd one; we're basically told within the first couple of chapters who the murderer is and what they did, and the rest of the book is about figuring out exactly how and why they dunnit, as well as stopping the escalating series of further crimes which the murderer starts committing to try and cover things up once they realise they're being investigated. But I did enjoy the unravelling of the mystery, especially the intricate and ingenious details of what Sayers calls 'the legal problem' of the murderer's motive. (Lots of lawyer humour!). And the setting, characters and background are fun too. I'm still not sure whether Lord Peter himself is kind of fun or just very annoying, but I liked the interactions between him and Parker, and the spinster detective Miss Climpson was an interesting figure. The historical-social details are great, too, although there is a bit much period-typical classism and racism (to be fair, Sayers/the narrative seems sympathetic to the black character in question, but this involves dumping a lot of in-universe racism on him in a way that's definitely not well-handled, and I ended up just feeling awful for him).
But what I really want to talk about is the backstory and all the lesbianism. To say that this book has mixed feelings about lesbians is... something, I suppose. It's an interesting one.
As part of their investigations, Peter and Parker, and the reader, end up learning a lot about the backstory of the murder victim, Agatha Dawson. She spent most of her life with her friend, Clara Whittaker, whom she met at school; they set up in business together breeding horses, with Clara handling the business side of things and Agatha looking after the house. They declare that they're never going to get married and are going to stay living with each other instead, and then do just that. While this causes some conflict with their families, they're universally well-liked by their friends and neighbours, and they live very happily until Clara's death a few years before the events of the novel. This is all presented, if not exactly as normal, then at least in a largely sympathetic and non-judgemental way—and the narrative is about as clear as it can be that this is a queer story. I loved it, and spent much of the book wanting to read a novel all about Agatha's and Clara's life and adventures together, instead of this irrelevant murder-mystery future fic.
Then there's the murderer, Mary Whittaker, who is Agatha's great-niece on one side and Clara's on the other. She is also a lesbian, again portrayed as explicitly as the book reasonably can do, and is absolutely in the Evil Heartless Manipulative Lesbian mould of contemporary stereotypes. (There's actually a reference to 'Miss Clemence Dane's very clever book on the subject'!). There's the stereotypical weak, easily-led 'rabbit' (as a Raffles fan, one does start to wonder about the significance of that word, but I digress) of a girl who is in love with her, whom she manipulates and uses in her schemes to evade our investigators and eventually murders as well. And there's the judgement on all this of Miss Climpson, who is what Sayers calls 'a spinster made and not born—a perfectly womanly woman', in contrast to all these spinsters-by-nature—she repeats all Clemence Dane's arguments about unnatural this and healthy that and 'fruitful union with a man' (ugh!) the other, all in way apparently approved of by the narrative.
(Mary is a bit of an enigma in general, really—I can't help thinking it's somehow significant that we barely ever get to see her directly on stage as herself, but instead hear about her second-hand through other character's narration and/or meet her in disguise).
All of which is, in the context of Dorothy L. Sayers having contributed those poems to The Quorum, interesting stuff. You could resolve all this in various ways, but on the whole I'm not quite sure what to make of it.
Anyway! I did enjoy this book on the whole, and I think I may well continue with the rest of the series.
Unnatural Death (1927) opens with Lord Peter and his detective friend Charles Parker hearing a strange story from a doctor whom they meet by chance in a restaurant. Some time ago, a patient of this doctor's—an old woman with terminal cancer—died suddenly at a time when the doctor expected her to live for some time longer. A post-mortem found no reason to suspect anything other than natural causes, but the doctor still has his suspicions... and, after hearing them, Lord Peter decides to investigate.
As a murder mystery it's a slightly odd one; we're basically told within the first couple of chapters who the murderer is and what they did, and the rest of the book is about figuring out exactly how and why they dunnit, as well as stopping the escalating series of further crimes which the murderer starts committing to try and cover things up once they realise they're being investigated. But I did enjoy the unravelling of the mystery, especially the intricate and ingenious details of what Sayers calls 'the legal problem' of the murderer's motive. (Lots of lawyer humour!). And the setting, characters and background are fun too. I'm still not sure whether Lord Peter himself is kind of fun or just very annoying, but I liked the interactions between him and Parker, and the spinster detective Miss Climpson was an interesting figure. The historical-social details are great, too, although there is a bit much period-typical classism and racism (to be fair, Sayers/the narrative seems sympathetic to the black character in question, but this involves dumping a lot of in-universe racism on him in a way that's definitely not well-handled, and I ended up just feeling awful for him).
But what I really want to talk about is the backstory and all the lesbianism. To say that this book has mixed feelings about lesbians is... something, I suppose. It's an interesting one.
As part of their investigations, Peter and Parker, and the reader, end up learning a lot about the backstory of the murder victim, Agatha Dawson. She spent most of her life with her friend, Clara Whittaker, whom she met at school; they set up in business together breeding horses, with Clara handling the business side of things and Agatha looking after the house. They declare that they're never going to get married and are going to stay living with each other instead, and then do just that. While this causes some conflict with their families, they're universally well-liked by their friends and neighbours, and they live very happily until Clara's death a few years before the events of the novel. This is all presented, if not exactly as normal, then at least in a largely sympathetic and non-judgemental way—and the narrative is about as clear as it can be that this is a queer story. I loved it, and spent much of the book wanting to read a novel all about Agatha's and Clara's life and adventures together, instead of this irrelevant murder-mystery future fic.
Then there's the murderer, Mary Whittaker, who is Agatha's great-niece on one side and Clara's on the other. She is also a lesbian, again portrayed as explicitly as the book reasonably can do, and is absolutely in the Evil Heartless Manipulative Lesbian mould of contemporary stereotypes. (There's actually a reference to 'Miss Clemence Dane's very clever book on the subject'!). There's the stereotypical weak, easily-led 'rabbit' (as a Raffles fan, one does start to wonder about the significance of that word, but I digress) of a girl who is in love with her, whom she manipulates and uses in her schemes to evade our investigators and eventually murders as well. And there's the judgement on all this of Miss Climpson, who is what Sayers calls 'a spinster made and not born—a perfectly womanly woman', in contrast to all these spinsters-by-nature—she repeats all Clemence Dane's arguments about unnatural this and healthy that and 'fruitful union with a man' (ugh!) the other, all in way apparently approved of by the narrative.
(Mary is a bit of an enigma in general, really—I can't help thinking it's somehow significant that we barely ever get to see her directly on stage as herself, but instead hear about her second-hand through other character's narration and/or meet her in disguise).
All of which is, in the context of Dorothy L. Sayers having contributed those poems to The Quorum, interesting stuff. You could resolve all this in various ways, but on the whole I'm not quite sure what to make of it.
Anyway! I did enjoy this book on the whole, and I think I may well continue with the rest of the series.
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 12:50 pm (UTC)If it's not egocentric of me, I can PM you the link to an article discussing the debates of the period (into which Sayers' depictions of female partnerships fit) about healthy vs unhealthy female relationships in the interwar era and that there's a lot more complexity and nuance than some of the earlier writing on 'fear of the lesbian because sexology' would lead one to suppose.
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 04:08 pm (UTC)I can PM you the link to an article discussing the debates of the period
Ooh, yes please—that sounds fascinating!
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 04:33 pm (UTC)Yes, Evil Murder Lesbian. What's up with her? :/ I never know what to think about her.
But I did like the premise of introducing the mystery.
The very first podcast of Sheddunit [I am a member of the book club/forum] was of post-war 'surplus' women of which Miss Climpson is the quintessential specimen, a lot of discussion about her.
I have read Unnatural Death several times, but I think my most recent was audiobook format, and my favourite part [and I may be mis-remembering] was an old man [Lord Peter's pumping him for local history, I think] goes on and on about having a pint of bitters for breakfast. And narrator did a hilarious job with the voice. Pitch perfect wheezy old man at the pub voice.
I ship Lord Peter/Parker/Bunter! I've even written some very naughty lingerie/Daddy kink stuff based on Whose Body? if that's your cup of tea [if it isn't no worries] called Whose Booty?: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213070/chapters/37894451.
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 06:47 pm (UTC)an old man [Lord Peter's pumping him for local history, I think] goes on and on about having a pint of bitters for breakfast.
Hehe, I did enjoy the Warwickshire section, for the lively local humour as well as the Agatha/Clara backstory, and that bit was especially funny—I can imagine it working well in an audiobook! It's something Sayers does well in general, I think—the bits with the various lawyer characters going on about the intricacies of the new Property Act were similarly funny.
I'm afraid that fic doesn't look like my cup of tea (although the title made me laugh!)—but on the general question of Peter/Parker/Bunter, I can definitely see it, especially the Peter/Parker side—I shall have to give my shipping opinions some more thought, and see what I think when I read the later books. :D
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 06:02 pm (UTC)The thing I found ultimately most interesting after re-reading Unnatural Death was the realization that Mary Whittaker is in the minority of representations of queer women in Sayers' fiction: not just Agatha Dawson and Clara Whittaker but Eiluned Price and Sylvia Marriott in Strong Poison (1930) and Miss Selby and Miss Cochran in The Five Red Herrings (1931) are presented with liking and without judgment and as functional partnerships, not cold-blooded predation. I ended up concluding that while I didn't like a lot of the ways the narrative is about her, including Miss Climpson as the apparent authorial voice of heteronormativity, in context of the wider series she looks a lot less like "lesbianism evil, film at eleven" and more like Sayers working out once again her recurring pattern of unequal relationships and the rarity and difficulty of equal ones. (The other books adduced for this argument all post-date Unnatural Death, however, so just taken on its own, yeah, it is a weird and ambivalent book.)
no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 06:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Aug. 21st, 2021 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Aug. 22nd, 2021 10:50 am (UTC)