The new Crime Writers' Association anthology Vintage Crime presents its contents more or less chronologically in order of publication, inviting the reader to look for topical and stylistic patterns as the stories and their authors push through the decades. In his introduction, editor Martin Edwards explains that the collection starts with the Association's founding in 1953 and continues into the early 21st century, "demonstrat[ing] the evolution of the crime short story during the CWA's existence." Upon finishing the anthology and reflecting on exactly what evolution I had witnessed, I suspect there were simply not enough species under the microscope to make any conclusive Darwinian assessments, even with the generous 22 stories featured here.
There is ample evidence to make some unsurprising genre generalizations, though. Once past the Second World War and into the 1950s, writer and reader appetites for clever Golden Age detective puzzles, once voracious, were on the wane. The earliest published story in Vintage Crime, and not coincidentally the one that reflects the foot most firmly on GAD ground, is "Footprint in the Sky" by John Dickson Carr. Another early story, Michael Gilbert's "Money is Honey" also features some old-school clueing, but after the first four entries, there's less interest in the body in the library than the body in the bed, and how the ensuing jealousy or spurning of a lover or spouse will lead to murder or death.
As such, the most elemental change to track in the field of crime fiction as represented by the tales is the transition from the mystery puzzle to the psychological crime story. Whether this change is a welcome or unwanted one depends on the reader, of course. But it is no accident that Story Number Five, "The Woman Who Had Everything" by Celia Fremlin, is all about Getting Inside the Protagonist's Noggin. Quoth the Fremlin:
As such, the most elemental change to track in the field of crime fiction as represented by the tales is the transition from the mystery puzzle to the psychological crime story. Whether this change is a welcome or unwanted one depends on the reader, of course. But it is no accident that Story Number Five, "The Woman Who Had Everything" by Celia Fremlin, is all about Getting Inside the Protagonist's Noggin. Quoth the Fremlin:
"He never thought about anything else any more, at home or away: a far cry from those golden holidays in the first years of their marriage, when he'd sit or lie beside her hour after hour, rubbing oil on her brown body, murmuring into her ear nonsense to make her laugh or endearments to make her glow – face down on the hot sand – with secret joy."
Will Maggie's suicide attempt finally bestir husband Rodney's love for her once more? (This is not a spoiler; this is the plot of the story.) Other pieces take a similar approach, such as "Turning Point" by Anthea Fraser, which evokes sympathy for a woman contemplating an affair as escape from a loveless marriage. There's nothing wrong with trying to align the reader emotionally with key characters; not doing so was a valid criticism of much classic mystery fiction, where suspects and detective were pushed around clinically like pieces on a chessboard. But when the crime aspect replaces the mystery aspect, then the writing succeeds or fails based on personal interest instead of puzzle ingenuity. And not every story in Vintage Crime felt satisfying, but here are the ones I (subjectively) single out as most memorable:
"The Nuggy Bar" by Simon Brett – fans of Brett's theater-set Charles Paris series already know of his dry wit and darkly comic view of life and death. Here we have a great satiric send-up involving a middle manager for a cleaning product company and his decision to plan a murder literally by the book – in this case, using a handbook of business precepts meant to shepherd the shaping and launch of a new product.
"The Hand That Feeds Me" by Michael Z. Lewin – a gimmick, but a good one whose brevity doesn't overstay its premise. A stray dog (who narrates) delivers an unconventional justice to avenge the death of a homeless stranger who was kind to him.
"Cold and Deep" by Frances Fyfield – puppies don't fare well at all, but this slow-but-smoldering tale sets up a confrontation between an earnest young woman and her sadistic in-law that builds to a satisfying, haunting climax.
"Interior, with Corpse" by Peter Lovesey – one of only a few post-1950 stories in the mix that gives a nod to sleuthing and detection, and the premise is delicious: a very detailed rendering of a crime scene shows up in an art gallery as part of a deceased painter's collection. The problem is that the picture's setting is recognizably the home of an esteemed retired fighter pilot and the dead woman looks eerily like someone who disappeared from the village decades ago.
And Martin Edwards provides "Melusine", an uncomfortably dystopian tale of a plague ravaging Britain's livestock. As the protagonist kills diseased sheep and cattle in countless numbers, he wonders just how close his wife and his drinking buddy have gotten in his absence.
Other honorable mentions: The H.R.F. Keating story "Inspector Ghote and the Noted British Author" follows his likeable Indian inspector as he contends with an irritating Western celebrity as a guest; "The Egyptian Garden" by Marjorie Eccles sketches a bittersweet friendship between a socialite living in Egypt and her young and bright servant; and Mick Herron provides a 21st-century character twist within "All She Wrote," a 2008 story that subverts expectations but feels more technical than immediate.
"The Nuggy Bar" by Simon Brett – fans of Brett's theater-set Charles Paris series already know of his dry wit and darkly comic view of life and death. Here we have a great satiric send-up involving a middle manager for a cleaning product company and his decision to plan a murder literally by the book – in this case, using a handbook of business precepts meant to shepherd the shaping and launch of a new product.
"The Hand That Feeds Me" by Michael Z. Lewin – a gimmick, but a good one whose brevity doesn't overstay its premise. A stray dog (who narrates) delivers an unconventional justice to avenge the death of a homeless stranger who was kind to him.
"Cold and Deep" by Frances Fyfield – puppies don't fare well at all, but this slow-but-smoldering tale sets up a confrontation between an earnest young woman and her sadistic in-law that builds to a satisfying, haunting climax.
"Interior, with Corpse" by Peter Lovesey – one of only a few post-1950 stories in the mix that gives a nod to sleuthing and detection, and the premise is delicious: a very detailed rendering of a crime scene shows up in an art gallery as part of a deceased painter's collection. The problem is that the picture's setting is recognizably the home of an esteemed retired fighter pilot and the dead woman looks eerily like someone who disappeared from the village decades ago.
And Martin Edwards provides "Melusine", an uncomfortably dystopian tale of a plague ravaging Britain's livestock. As the protagonist kills diseased sheep and cattle in countless numbers, he wonders just how close his wife and his drinking buddy have gotten in his absence.
Other honorable mentions: The H.R.F. Keating story "Inspector Ghote and the Noted British Author" follows his likeable Indian inspector as he contends with an irritating Western celebrity as a guest; "The Egyptian Garden" by Marjorie Eccles sketches a bittersweet friendship between a socialite living in Egypt and her young and bright servant; and Mick Herron provides a 21st-century character twist within "All She Wrote," a 2008 story that subverts expectations but feels more technical than immediate.
With such variety, it's a good bet that readers will find something, or a number of somethings, to like here. As the car commercials say, actual mileage may vary. Vintage Crime will be released in the U.S. on August 11 by Flame Tree Press. I received an advanced reading copy of this title via NetGalley in order to provide an honest review.
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