Capital Crimes: psychological and moral but above all sociological
Martin Edwards edited this volume of British Library Crime classics. The stories go back to the Golden Age of Detective fiction, and includes writers whose fame has faded — Edgar Wallace, Hugh Walpole, and Ethel Lina White. The volume also includes rare finds from Detection Club authors whose work has endured. These include Dorothy L. Sayers, Marjorie Allingham and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The title is derived from the fact that all the stories are set in the great capital.
Reading work from the past is always instructive and thought-provoking. One literary lens that applies well to crime fiction is the consideration of whether a story is psychological, social, or moral. Simply put, this view classifies stories according to whether they focus mainly on individual psychology, societally imposed conflicts, or apparently simple questions of right and wrong.
Reading stories set in a time when London was still the capital of the British Empire (the most recent one takes place in 1945), we glimpse an era overtly dominated by men and money. Many of the stories take place in wealthy houses with servants, who are always marginal and undeveloped characters, relegated to minor roles.
Great writing reveals the society it portrays, warts and all. In “The Silver Mask,” Hugh Walpole skewers the operation of a class and status bound society that reduces women to stiflingly limited roles and excludes those who do not fit the approved categories. Poignantly, he describes the tragic figure of Sonia Herries as “a woman of her time…outwardly cynical and destructive while inwardly…longing for affection and appreciation.” Though she is “above all things maternal,” she has no child or anyone else on whom to lavish her love and care. Her unmarried state and her disinterest in witty unkind gossip leaves her on the fringes of her “set.” When she suffers, she must do as society dictates, and as Virginia Wolf was told to do before her: “take her drops, lie down and rest.” The fact that Sonia suffers both spiritually and physically from a weak heart gives her tragic downfall an allegorical quality. Sonia is wasted in the role society has consigned her to. She has “courage worthy of a better cause” than the shallow social round of bridge and cocktails. Sentenced by her society, she is a tragic figure who represents the social oppression of “all the other women of her period and manner of life.”
In “The Avenging Chance,” Anthony Berkeley refers to the repressive power of the social expectations of the same era. When his detective, Roger Sheringham, is accosted by a talkative society woman on the street, he stands helpless with the “frozen grin of civilized intercourse on his face,” trying in vain to “get a word in.” In a conversation between Roger and a similar caricaturish woman, the author effectively alludes to the shallow nature of social mores by having her casually assume that most or at least many women would think nothing of cheating on a bet.
Lucy Beatrice Malleson (publishing under Anthony Gilbert, one of her pen names), uses her character, the effective albeit de-classe lawyer Arthur Crook, to point out a shortcoming of policing as currently constituted: “the police are only interested in crimes after they’ve been committed.” This story, “You Can’t Hang Twice,” also punishes a minor character for lacking the virtue of courage.
“Cheese,” by Ethel Lina White, rewards courage — on the part of a woman. On the surface romantic and old-fashioned, this tale beats with a deeper pulse, revealing the psychology of the two main characters, as well as pointing to themes of morality and society with a sure and deft hand. I found it the most engaging tale in this collection of historic detective fiction.