Dean Street Press, the modest but mighty publisher that is tirelessly returning to print the titles of so many worthy but overlooked mystery fiction writers, has added another enjoyable series of books to its catalog. This time new readers can sample the light-hearted puzzle stories of Anne Morice, who began her adventures featuring actress Tessa Crichton with 1970’s Death in the Grand Manor. Over the next two decades, Morice – the pen name of British author Felicity Shaw – would add nearly two dozen more entries to the series, writing up until her death in 1989.
There is much to enjoy with Grand Manor, especially if one is in the mood for a post-Golden Age cosy mystery with a fair amount of winking wit to illuminate dialogue and characterization. The author’s protagonist, Tessa, narrates this tale with an energetic efficiency and a sense of humor that keep the story moving along. This is one of those worlds where you may envy the characters their underemployed lifestyles: villagers have ample time to walk the grounds, consider the gardens, visit the pub, and gossip with the neighbors while not actually holding a job or earning a recognizable income. Tessa herself is content to wait for her agent to call her with an acting offer, and in the meantime spends her days with her cousin Toby, an indolent playwright, at his home on Roakes Common.
There is much to enjoy with Grand Manor, especially if one is in the mood for a post-Golden Age cosy mystery with a fair amount of winking wit to illuminate dialogue and characterization. The author’s protagonist, Tessa, narrates this tale with an energetic efficiency and a sense of humor that keep the story moving along. This is one of those worlds where you may envy the characters their underemployed lifestyles: villagers have ample time to walk the grounds, consider the gardens, visit the pub, and gossip with the neighbors while not actually holding a job or earning a recognizable income. Tessa herself is content to wait for her agent to call her with an acting offer, and in the meantime spends her days with her cousin Toby, an indolent playwright, at his home on Roakes Common.
The plot is a simple one. Tessa relates the incidents that, individually and collectively, have turned the residents of Roakes Common against the Manor House inhabitants. Short-tempered Douglas Cornford and his mentally unstable wife Bronwen have staged multiple assaults on the community property, including the placement of barbed wire that caused the death of a dog and the construction of a building of that would ruin the view for others. When Bronwen’s body is found in a ravine (right at the book’s midway point), Tessa decides to investigate. She finds her motivation for the role of sleuth not so much out of sympathy for the Cornfords but more from a romantic attraction to blond, young Robin Price, the cheerful Scotland Yard Inspector assigned to the case.
As mentioned, the comic tone and breezy wit of Tessa’s narration are the most notable elements of Death in the Grand Manor, and the book feels like a kindred spirit to Simon Brett’s sprightly Charles Paris tales of theatre-set murder and mayhem. Anne Morice also demonstrates a facility for generating clues, especially of the misleading kind. There are many red herrings in Grand Manor, and I followed two of them quite willingly before learning, at the conclusion, that they were indeed false trails. Here is a sample of Tessa’s (and Morice’s) storytelling style, and this agreeable attitude is to be found on every page:
As mentioned, the comic tone and breezy wit of Tessa’s narration are the most notable elements of Death in the Grand Manor, and the book feels like a kindred spirit to Simon Brett’s sprightly Charles Paris tales of theatre-set murder and mayhem. Anne Morice also demonstrates a facility for generating clues, especially of the misleading kind. There are many red herrings in Grand Manor, and I followed two of them quite willingly before learning, at the conclusion, that they were indeed false trails. Here is a sample of Tessa’s (and Morice’s) storytelling style, and this agreeable attitude is to be found on every page:
“I shan’t take up much of your time,” Sergeant Baines said, when he had been introduced to Toby and waded through all the preliminary civilities. “I was wondering whether you had been the recipient of anything in the nature of an anonymous letter?”
I quite expected Toby to ask how anything could be in the nature of an anonymous letter without being an anonymous letter, but I saw from the blank and innocent look which he immediately assumed that the question had jolted him beyond the point of pedantry.
A few online reviewers have mentioned that, for all the details of Tessa Crichton’s life and subjective musings, the character remains oddly, paradoxically weightless. I tend to agree with them, and think it might be due to the author not really giving Tessa a range of emotions to play. She is always flippant and acerbic, so why should we worry too much about whether or not she will succeed as an actress or fall in love with the policeman? It’s similar to when a person uses continuous irony and indifference as emotional armor, which doesn’t allow or invite others to empathize.
Along these lines, the most jarring note for me in the whole book comes at the dénouement, when two families with children have suffered a tragic impact (including Tessa’s niece) from the murder and its aftermath, and no reference is made (even in passing) about the new, sobering reality for the affected family members. Murder mysteries do not have to pulsate with capital-T Tragedy – they can be lighter entertainment, as Anne Morice surely intended here – but ignoring completely the consequences brought on by an identified and apprehended killer gives the reader one more excuse to dismiss the story as mere disposable fantasy.
Along these lines, the most jarring note for me in the whole book comes at the dénouement, when two families with children have suffered a tragic impact (including Tessa’s niece) from the murder and its aftermath, and no reference is made (even in passing) about the new, sobering reality for the affected family members. Murder mysteries do not have to pulsate with capital-T Tragedy – they can be lighter entertainment, as Anne Morice surely intended here – but ignoring completely the consequences brought on by an identified and apprehended killer gives the reader one more excuse to dismiss the story as mere disposable fantasy.
Reviewers (including Curtis Evans, who wrote the introduction and author biography for this reprinted edition) mention that the Tessa Crichton mysteries change somewhat after this premiere title, and I am curious to see what the next book, 1971’s Murder in Married Life, might bring. The first ten books in Anne Morice’s series are available from Dean Street Press, with the rest of the series hopefully to follow.
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