Speculative
Friction:
a blog of comics and literary criticism written by Bill Baker
1-6-06
Right from the
start, I read just about any kind of literature I could get my hands
on. Whether it was classic literature, the myths and legends that
have sustained and enlivened the lives of folks for centuries, I
read 'em all. The shining and dark tomorrows imagined by the likes
of Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, and Arthur C. Clarke, along with
the terribly alluring and fierce fever dreams of Harlan Ellison,
Michael Moorcock and J. G. Ballard were followed by or alternated
with fantasies high and low, by authors ranging from J.R.R. Tolkien
to Fritz Lieber to Robert E. Howard and back. I shivered my way
through Lovecraft and all the other masters, those whose names must
never be written, much less uttered aloud. Ditto all types of sciences,
hard and soft, as well as the arts and letters. But I never really
ventured into mystery or western novels much, though, for some reason.
Until recently, that is...
I'm still casting about in the western area, and can't really say
much about that process, yet. However, I have been following the
work of a few mystery writers long enough that I can make a few
observations, I think, about what makes these particular individuals'
work.
While I haven't yet had the chance to crack the cover of The Perfumed
Sleeve, the latest paperback release from Laura Joh Rowland, I have
recently finished The Haunted Abbot by Peter Tremayne. This is the
eleventh installment in the series of novels chronicling the adventures
of Sister Fidelma, whose is aided in her inquiries by her constant
companion and foil, Brother Eadulf. Set largely in ancient Ireland
and the surrounding lands, I found myself initially intrigued by
the setting and characters. Taking place in the middle years of
the Sixth Century, AD, at a time when civilization was still teetering
on the brink and the Catholic Church still in its infancy. Sister
Fidelma is a member of a branch of the Church that still adheres
to the older ways, which allowed for marriage of both priests and
nuns; she also happens to sister to a king as well as a dalaigh,
essentially the Medieval Irish equivalent of a prosecutor. Brother
Eadulf is himself a member of the clergy, too, obviously...but he's
actually from the other camp when it comes to the celibacy issue.
Which wouldn't be a problem if these two weren't equally attracted
to each other, and constantly having to solve these odd murders
which coincidentally occur around them. But what Tremayne has achieved
with these characters and period, aided by some good research and
fine writing, is always entertaining and thought-provoking. These
are some of the most engrossing mysteries I've ever had the pleasure
to encounter. Even better, each one is what couldn't be considered
"fair"--meaning that the reader is given all of the information
needed to solve the mystery before the reveal and restoration of
normal society at the end of the book. But what really made me bring
up this particular book, aside from wanting to spread the good word
on it and its older siblings in the series, is the fact that most
mysteries, and this particular volume particularly, are a great
source for lessons on how to employ a lot of the devices mentioned
in my previous posts in quite inventive ways.
The novel begins with an incredibly audacious Late Attack. The chase
is already afoot, and the two sleuths have been summoned by a childhood
friend of the Brother to appear at a certain spot by midnight that
night. Unfortunately, it's the dead of winter and a terrible storm
rages outside, seemingly intent on preventing their safe passage
to their nearby rendezvous point by the allotted time. The two wayfarers
finally do find passage with a local, and after a nightmarish journey
[the forbidding landscape contrasted with the harshness of human
nature creates both a nice tension and sub-theme throughout], they
arrive in time for the funeral of Eadulf's friend. Who, it turns
out, has been dead since that morning, when he was murdered by persons
unknown. Finding himself alone, as Fidelma has been incapacitated
by a raging fever caused by their journey, Eadulf struggles to find
out why and who killed his friend.
And which introduces an entire novel's worth of cliffhangers skillfully
interwoven with deceptions, deceits and endlessly inventive Delaying
Action. And it's this last concept, that of the author using some
kind of delay to put off the revelation of an important fact--or
red herring-- and consequently ratcheting up the level of suspense
for the reader that really interests me at this point. In a real
way, the entire book is one long lesson in doing Delayed Action
Right. In fact, the classic Revelation Scene at the end is itself
delayed by a sudden and unexpected escape, causing Fidelma, by then
recovered and charged with untangling this Gordian Knot, to become
a bit peeved with the interruption and the tension to rise yet more.
And then, when all seems resolved except for some slight personal
misunderstanding between our two heroes--literally at the last sentence
of the book!--the author drops a bomb that leaves the readers, new
and old, with more expectations and unresolved questions than they
entered with...and does so in such a straightforward and offhand
manner that he had me laughing and cursing out loud.
The Haunted Abbot proves not just that Tremayne is at the top of
his game, creating both mysteries and meaningful character embellishments
that move the series forward while touching his readers, he's also
provided a handbook for how to use some of the most effective, yet
typically mishandled, devices available to creators. So, whether
you're looking for something fun and engaging to read, or you're
actually looking for a new way to learn about how to launch Late
Attacks, or how to create, maintain and build suspense with Delaying
Action, you would do well to look inside the pages of this book
for what they're looking for.

The Perfumed Sleve
written by Laura Joh Rowland
published by St. Martin's Paperbacks
The Haunted Abbot
written by Peter Tremayne
published by Signet Mystery
www.penguin.com
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