Yes, Mysteries Have “Literary Worth.” Why Are We Even Discussing It?

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: All genre lovers have had the moment. That moment. For me, it was when I was a guest at a Vermont literary festival. There was a reception the first evening for the presenters, and in cocktail party style, people were sharing what they worked at. Novel. Narrative nonfiction. Poet. Then it was my turn. "I write mysteries."

Readers, you would have thought I said I skin kittens. I didn't talk to a single other author the rest of the night.

There's not a great deal of critical respect out there for crime fiction. Science fiction and fantasy are even more suspect, and Romance? Fuggedaboutit! Elizabeth Held wants us to rethink this. You may know her from her her recommendation newsletter WHAT TO READ IF, One of Book Riots Best Book Newsletter (subscribe; it's free and you'll love it!) She got a little frustrated about the lack of thoughtful literary analysis around her favorite genre, and decided to take that on by starting a limited run Substack newsletter inviting some very smart people to write about aspects of books they adore. And who better to dig into than the most beloved, the most thoughtful, the most literary crime fiction author working today - Louise Penny? She's here today to tell us all about her new project, NOTES FROM THREE PINES.

 

At first glance Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache books would seem like prime subjects for academic study. They’re wildly popular bestsellers, critically beloved and offer keen insights into how our world considers thorny topics related to religion, politics, crime, addiction and more.

 

And yet, a search on JSTOR, a digital library of academic journals, shows just a handful of articles examining Penny’s work.

 

Unfortunately, this has been the plight of the mystery writer since the days of Agatha Christy. As scholar Marty S. Knepper notes in her essay, “Contemporary Cozy Mysteries, Agatha Christie and the 1990s,” “Despite or perhaps because of her sales, Agatha Christie’s reputation during her lifetime suffered at the hands of journalists, scholars, and even mystery historians who frequently criticized her characterization, style, and literary worth.”

 

Christie never earned the respect she deserved in her day, with detractors calling her books artificial, banal and superficial. The same criticism is hurled at mystery fiction today, more than 100 years after her first book was published.

 

While mysteries might get more due than they did in Christie’s day, Knepper’s essay was included in a 2021 book that was the first to examine the cozy mystery — a wildly popular subgenre — from an academic perspective. And, yet, it’s clear to anyone who reads crime fiction — mysteries, noir or thrillers — that they have literary worth and should be treated as such.

 

Penny herself made a similar argument earlier this year at Malice Domestic, the annual convention of mystery writers and fans, while on a panel featuring the authors nominated for the 2022 Agatha Award for Best Contemporary Novel.

 

The moderator asked the authors if they ever felt constrained by expectations of their genre. Penny responded, “I am very proud to write crime fiction and stand up and wave the flag… but at the same time, I’m tired of this dismissiveness around the genre. Good storytelling is good storytelling, whether you like it or not.” 

From my spot on the floor in the back of the room, I began to cheer. I devour genre fiction — romance and mysteries in particular — and am always surprised by the sort of flippant attitude some people have towards it.

 

One of my biggest pet peeves is the claim that genre fiction is somehow lesser because it’s formulaic, but to me that’s proof of an author’s skill. Making a story that’s been told hundreds of times — a murder mystery or a love story — feel fresh and new is a real skill that should be recognized and celebrated. As Penny said, good storytelling is good storytelling.

 

More broadly though, readers and scholars who skip mysteries because they don’t think they’re meaty or worth discussing are both wrong and missing out on some really excellent books. From where I’m sitting, some of the sharpest commentary from the literary world on topics ranging from race and religion to tech’s effect on our world are coming from crime writers. See works by  Kellye Garrett, David Heska WanbliWeiden, Jane Pek and Julia Spencer-Fleming for proof.

 

To challenge the outdated notion that mysteries can’t — or shouldn’t be — the subject of careful criticism and examination, a friend and I are launching Notes From Three Pines, a short-run essay collection celebrating and exploring all things Louise Penny and Inspector Gamache.

 

Notes From Three Pines is a cross between an essay anthology and fan zine. Our contributors are writing about everything from the joy of listening to the audiobooks to the role art plays in the series to the unique character that is Ruth Zardo. (I’m hoping that last one will include an extended meditation on Rosa the duck.)

 

We have two main goals with this project. First, we want to give fans like us a place to meet and discuss Penny’s books (if that sounds like you, I hope you’ll join us by subscribing). And, second, we want to apply the same sort of lens to the series it would have received if the books weren’t mysteries. As anyone who has read the Inspector Gamache books can attest, these are meaty novels, well worth discussion and analysis.

 

What about you? Are there books or series you think are unnecessarily dismissed?

 

Where are the Fathers in Mystery?

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I thought that for Father's Day, it would be great idea to celebrate fathers in mysteries--fathers as the main protagonists, not as incidental characters. Then I found myself really struggling to think of men in mysteries, either series or standalones, who were fathers.

There is my Duncan Kincaid, who is a biological dad, a step-dad, and a foster dad, and while he doesn't always do the best job of juggling fatherhood with work, he does try.

There is Rhys Bowen's Daniel Sullivan, who, if not the primary protagonist, is certainly an important character. Who else comes to mind? William Kent Kruger's Cork O'Connor has kids. Elizabeth Peter's Emerson in the Amelia Peabody books. Dick Francis's Lee Morris in DECIDER, who has five boys--a very unusual set up for a mystery or suspense novel. It's one of my favorite Dick Francis novels, and the kids are an integral part of the story.

And... Help, REDS!
But the really big question here is why aren't there more dads? I know parenting complicates things in a story, for both men and women, but it's also a very ordinary and necessary and ubiquitous part of life that adds dimension to characters.

RHYS BOWEN: You've made me think, Debs. Isn't it interesting how many male sleuths are loners... And female too for that matter. I think your Duncan is a fabulous father role model. He and Gemma take their parenting as seriously as their sleuthing and it plays a big part in the stories. Reginald Hill's Pascoe is also a dad--one stretched to the limit in ON BEULAH HEIGHT. Barnaby  is a dad. I'm sure my Constable Evans had become a father by now! But why can I think of only British men?

LUCY BURDETTE: You are right Deb, it’s not that easy to find fathers in mysteries. In my own work, the closest I came was Detective Meigs in the advice column mysteries. He struggled with being a stepfather to a teenager in a way that I hope was realistic and meaningful. But two characters in a long running series that I love also come to mind. The first is CJ Box's Joe Pickett. His complete devotion to his daughters is one of the characteristics that makes him so very appealing. Also, Kent Krueger‘s Cork O’Connor is a wonderful father figure. In both of those series, the theme of family is woven powerfully through every book, and the fathers struggle with how their dangerous work might affect the people they love.

HALLIE EPHRON: Blame Raymond Chandler who said, "A really good detective never gets married." It does complicate the plot if your sleuth has kids. But somehow Michael Connelly manages it in THE LINCOLN LAWYER, and Bob Dugoni's Tracy Crosswhite is a terrific father. Jackson Brody in Kate Atkinson's books. Joe Finder's Nick Heller has to rescue his daughter when she's kidnapped and buried in a coffin in BURIED SECRETS.

But you're right. Not that many. Offspring do interfere with the potential studliness of a male protagonist.

INGRID THOFT: Carson Drew!  He’s the ultimate great mystery dad:  supportive yet cautious and loving.  And although they aren’t the characters actual fathers, I would argue that both Kinsey Millhone and V.I. Warshawski have wonderful father figures in their neighbors.  Henry cheers on Kinsey, but he isn’t afraid to butt head with her, and he bakes!  Mr. Contreras keeps an eye on the home front while V.I. is out sleuthing, and they share two dogs, making them co-parents of sorts.  Any of us would be lucky to have a Carson, Henry or Mr. Contreras in our corner.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Well, my own Russ Van Alstyne is about to become a father - and in fact, part of my last book, THROUGH THE EVIL DAYS, is about his coming to grips with the unexpected change in his life in his early fifties. Like Ingrid, I'm thinking about the fathers of detectives - they may be easier to spot! Paul Doiron's hero, game warden Mike Bowditch has a great father substitute in retired warden Charlie Stevens (who is the actual dad of Mike's girlfriend.) In addition, Mike's real dad is the focus of his first novel, THE POACHER'S SON. As you might tell from the title, he's not exactly an ideal role model.

The first book in Margaret Maron's Deborah Knott series is THE BOOTLEGGER'S DAUGHTER, so you know Debra's larger-than-life father Keziah Knott plays a big role - and he continues to be a strong influence on his daughter throughout the series. Oh, and I just thought of a detective whose fatherhood is front and center in the series: Jeff Cohen's Aaron Tucker, a stay-at-home dad who fits in sleuthing between freelance journalism and getting his two kids to their various practices/playdates/appointments. The first book is titled FOR WHOM THE MINIVAN ROLLS, which tells you all you need to know.

JENN MCKINLAY: The first author who came to mind for me is Harlan Coben. He writes a suburban New Jersey dad with a dark past like nobody's business. And then there's CJ Box's Joe Pickett, married with kids...and now I'm out of ideas. Parenting is not conducive to sleuthing unless your protagonist is in law enforcement in some way, like Pickett. At least, for me as a reader it doesn't work. I have a hard time believing a parent would put their child in danger to chase a bad guy while they have a two year old strapped in the car seat. 


HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: That is such a good question. In my books, I always make sure I plumb and understand the main characters's relationship with their father--but a father of the main character does not appear! That is pretty darn interesting.  And husband can be different than father, of course. But I'm trying to think of a book where someone runs to their father for attention or advice-in Ingrid's Fina books, the father is certainly a presence, but...   Oh!  Atticus Finch, of course.  Winner and still champion. 

DEBS:  Oh, thank you all! Now I have a bunch of things to add to my to-read list (must try Jeff Cohen--I cannot resist FOR WHOM THE MINIVAN ROLLS!) And lots of "Oh, of courses." How could I have forgotten Peter Pascoe? Or Joe Pickett? Or Jackson Brodie? And what about Ann Cleeve's Jimmy Perez? Or if you want to talk about a character who is haunted by a father, what about Ann Cleeve's Vera?

And how on earth could I have left out Armand Gamache??? 

READERS, who else have we missed? And do you agree that dads are underrepresented in mysteries?