Welcome, everyone, to the first official post to discuss the title inaugurating the Mitchell Mystery Reading Group, Gladys Mitchell's spirited 1929 tale The Mystery of a Butcher's Shop. The respondents proved a fun mix of Mrs. Bradley reading veterans and some who are sampling Gladys Mitchell's creation for the first (or almost the first) time. I am looking for observations of any kind and on any topic related to the book, and for this first installment wanted to focus on only the first six chapters.
I have decided to divide this initial discussion into two posts instead of one. I will happily continue the conversation with a Friday blog post incorporating the topics of social attitudes, psychology, and concluding thoughts about the first chapters of the book! If you wish to add to the discussion on any of the ideas here, please use the comment tool below.
I have decided to divide this initial discussion into two posts instead of one. I will happily continue the conversation with a Friday blog post incorporating the topics of social attitudes, psychology, and concluding thoughts about the first chapters of the book! If you wish to add to the discussion on any of the ideas here, please use the comment tool below.
There is no better way to start the discussion than by yielding to the esteemed GAD scholar Nick Fuller (his site is The Grandest Game in the World), who sets the tone right from the start.
Nick writes: "We're going to take a butcher's at Gladys Mitchell's second novel. For those of you who don't speak fluent Cockney, a butcher's = to look at (intransitive verb), from butcher's hook. And speaking of which, what's this dangling from one?"
To summarize, the plot through Chapter Six is busy, satirical, and makes me think tonally of a French farce crossed with a cheeky parody of the English village murder mystery. We learn about the disappearance of Rupert Sethleigh, an unlikable man who had quarreled with Jim Redsey, now the prime suspect. Indeed, the author wants us to wonder about the hapless young man; he tells a visiting solicitor that Sethleigh has departed for America and is caught digging a suspicious hole by the Stone of Sacrifice in the woods.
Matronly Mrs. Bryce Harringay is put out by all the strange incidents, but that appears to be her usual state. Aubrey Harringay, an energetic and precocious lad of fifteen, and the vicar's daughter, Felicity Broome, are soon caught up in the affair. Events take a sensational turn when human joints are discovered displayed in a butcher's shop window.
ON MRS. BRADLEY
Mrs. Bradley, from the dustjacket of Brazen Tongue (1940). Although she is mentioned briefly, Mrs. Beatrice Lestrange Bradley doesn't appear significantly until Chapter Six, and, as mystery author Catherine Dilts points out, she's "birdlike", with her clothing described as "like the plumage of a macaw". This is Catherine's first time meeting the formidable detective on the page, and she notes that she is "slow to warm up to her, as she seems rather bossy, and cackles a lot." She adds that "by the end of the chapter, I'm starting to see her as an interesting character."
Joyka observes that Mitchell's description of her detective (it was only her second appearance, after all) was "as I remembered with one major exception. The Chapter One line, 'age no longer interesting except to the more grasping and avaricious of her relatives': if this implication of avaricious relatives waiting for her to die occurs elsewhere, I don't remember it." Nor do I; the relations we meet in future stories don't have a single greedy nephew or niece to be found. That is likely connected with the character that Mrs. Bradley becomes as shaped by the author, which is not a woman known for her wealth but rather for her strength (mental and physical), her professional success, and her command for the situation. To highlight wealth would be, to me, to muddle or mute the idea of Mrs. Bradley's independent personality.
Joyka observes that Mitchell's description of her detective (it was only her second appearance, after all) was "as I remembered with one major exception. The Chapter One line, 'age no longer interesting except to the more grasping and avaricious of her relatives': if this implication of avaricious relatives waiting for her to die occurs elsewhere, I don't remember it." Nor do I; the relations we meet in future stories don't have a single greedy nephew or niece to be found. That is likely connected with the character that Mrs. Bradley becomes as shaped by the author, which is not a woman known for her wealth but rather for her strength (mental and physical), her professional success, and her command for the situation. To highlight wealth would be, to me, to muddle or mute the idea of Mrs. Bradley's independent personality.
Kate, the prolific GAD reviewer over at crossexaminingcrime, writes that, with our first glimpse of Mrs. Bradley, "the descriptions right from the start present her as non-human or with a sense of otherness." Her example is this striking passage:
"Twice widowed, black-eyed, claw-fingered…she smiled the saurian smile of the sand lizard and basked in the full glare of the sun in the charming old-world garden of the Stone House, Wandles."
ON YOUTH
"Twice widowed, black-eyed, claw-fingered…she smiled the saurian smile of the sand lizard and basked in the full glare of the sun in the charming old-world garden of the Stone House, Wandles."
ON YOUTH
Kate notes that Butcher's Shop's opening pages demonstrate how "Mitchell generally treats her characters. The most pleasant, the ones the reader will be most sympathetic towards and who are generally the happiest and most vital are 'the very young' and 'the rather old'. The characters who tend to be the most unpleasant, least intelligent, and most pompous – and of course the most suspicious – are those who are middle-aged."
Indeed, it's clear that Gladys Mitchell (a lifelong educator at girls' schools) has an "affinity for young people" in this book and in others, as Jennifer Clement points out, especially as her sleuth is "quite elderly, although physically strong." Margaret Plichta adds that Mrs. Bradley goes further and bonds with the youthful Aubrey and Felicity, taking them into her confidence.
Margaret continues: "One thing that has always stood out to me is that children in some of her books seem to skew older than their ages, and I find that here with Aubrey. I thought this to be true as well in The Rising of the Moon with the two brothers…but in Come Away, Death, the boys seem to be typical for their age. Comparing these young people with contemporary kids shows a stark difference in the sophistication of Aubrey and Felicity's thinking."
Indeed, it's clear that Gladys Mitchell (a lifelong educator at girls' schools) has an "affinity for young people" in this book and in others, as Jennifer Clement points out, especially as her sleuth is "quite elderly, although physically strong." Margaret Plichta adds that Mrs. Bradley goes further and bonds with the youthful Aubrey and Felicity, taking them into her confidence.
Margaret continues: "One thing that has always stood out to me is that children in some of her books seem to skew older than their ages, and I find that here with Aubrey. I thought this to be true as well in The Rising of the Moon with the two brothers…but in Come Away, Death, the boys seem to be typical for their age. Comparing these young people with contemporary kids shows a stark difference in the sophistication of Aubrey and Felicity's thinking."
This is Erin Cordell's first time reading a Gladys Mitchell mystery, and she mentions that the unsettling, gruesome nature of the murder on display is tempered by the author's well-drawn characters: "I can see Jim, Aubrey and Felicity sneaking around the woods in the dark, Mrs. Bryce Harringay's imperious, self-absorbed demeanor, and the seemingly hapless vicar and bishop… It does seem that the young lady of the book will be our heroine, or at least I hope. As a teacher, Gladys Mitchell must have been acutely aware of the limited choices in life that were open to the girls she taught, so it might be irresistible for her not to make Felicity the cleverest of them all."
ON STAGING
J.F. Norris over at Pretty Sinister Books shares his impressions: "The opening chapters are rife with wry wit and obvious satirical touches. The chapter titles alone tell us we’re in for a raucous fifty-plus pages. The humor works best when Mitchell is in farce mode. I’m not so keen on her class prejudice and superiority. [The chapter titles] 'Farcical Proceedings during an Afternoon in June' and 'Midsummer Madness' are signals to any reader that this mystery novel is not to be taken too seriously. Mitchell seems to like her characters, but clearly isn’t going to play favorites with anyone. Everyone’s faults are fair game for her trenchant humor and merciless attacks."
From Martyn Hobbs, who has the wonderful distinction of living in Gladys Mitchell's birthplace home (!):
"I love the wit and theatricality of these first six chapters: GM introduces her dramatis personae in bright, brisk consecutive paragraphs; the opening scenes recall a drawing-room comedy; there are allusions to theatre and performance, entrances and exits; there are even cucumber sandwiches, while Mary Kate, the maid, is pure stage Oirish… The concise descriptions of her characters are also like a dramatist's notes – efficient, precise, witty. The whole narrative suggests a fabrication, a confection, carefully directed by the author."
And with this, Martyn identifies a reason why Gladys Mitchell's writing is so special to me: especially in her books of the first two decades, there is a wonderful sense of experimentation and conscious style. The fact that tone and style are malleable and subject to the author's curiosity is wonderful, as it makes her many mysteries feel like unique, different experiences. With Butcher's Shop, GM has great fun with theatricality and the concept of farce – the episodic early scenes and the well-timed activities and misunderstandings in the woods are fine examples – but other titles tackle other moods and methods. The Saltmarsh Murders comes even closer to Wodehousian comedy (an influence mentioned by Kate, Nick, and Martyn); When Last I Died feels to me like an ode to Wilkie Collins, with a ghost story told through artifacts; The Rising of the Moon is loving nostalgia and a celebration of the innocence of youth; while the curious wartime mystery Sunset over Soho feels hallucinatory and haunted.
J.F. Norris over at Pretty Sinister Books shares his impressions: "The opening chapters are rife with wry wit and obvious satirical touches. The chapter titles alone tell us we’re in for a raucous fifty-plus pages. The humor works best when Mitchell is in farce mode. I’m not so keen on her class prejudice and superiority. [The chapter titles] 'Farcical Proceedings during an Afternoon in June' and 'Midsummer Madness' are signals to any reader that this mystery novel is not to be taken too seriously. Mitchell seems to like her characters, but clearly isn’t going to play favorites with anyone. Everyone’s faults are fair game for her trenchant humor and merciless attacks."
From Martyn Hobbs, who has the wonderful distinction of living in Gladys Mitchell's birthplace home (!):
"I love the wit and theatricality of these first six chapters: GM introduces her dramatis personae in bright, brisk consecutive paragraphs; the opening scenes recall a drawing-room comedy; there are allusions to theatre and performance, entrances and exits; there are even cucumber sandwiches, while Mary Kate, the maid, is pure stage Oirish… The concise descriptions of her characters are also like a dramatist's notes – efficient, precise, witty. The whole narrative suggests a fabrication, a confection, carefully directed by the author."
And with this, Martyn identifies a reason why Gladys Mitchell's writing is so special to me: especially in her books of the first two decades, there is a wonderful sense of experimentation and conscious style. The fact that tone and style are malleable and subject to the author's curiosity is wonderful, as it makes her many mysteries feel like unique, different experiences. With Butcher's Shop, GM has great fun with theatricality and the concept of farce – the episodic early scenes and the well-timed activities and misunderstandings in the woods are fine examples – but other titles tackle other moods and methods. The Saltmarsh Murders comes even closer to Wodehousian comedy (an influence mentioned by Kate, Nick, and Martyn); When Last I Died feels to me like an ode to Wilkie Collins, with a ghost story told through artifacts; The Rising of the Moon is loving nostalgia and a celebration of the innocence of youth; while the curious wartime mystery Sunset over Soho feels hallucinatory and haunted.
I'm not the only one who gets caught in Gladys Mitchell's spell. From Pavel Dmitrievich: "Rereading this mystery recalls why I became drawn to GM's writing many years ago. I found some of her Mrs. Bradley novels in a used book sale and spent a summer reading them slowly. What I enjoyed most then was her descriptive passages of the countryside and the night skies, and the night itself. I thought of the books as 'pastoral' mysteries. [Reading Butcher's Shop] is like hearing a favorite piece of music unexpectedly."
Further discussion of Chapters One through Six – and some justified criticism of the author and her detective – will be posted on Friday. Topics include Social Attitudes, Psychology, and a word from Canadian fan Mark Philpott!
The next call for group reading comments is Monday, November 12 on Chapters Seven through Twelve; please email me your stray thoughts care of [email protected] .
The next call for group reading comments is Monday, November 12 on Chapters Seven through Twelve; please email me your stray thoughts care of [email protected] .
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