Tag: Agatha Christie

Some (New) Mysteries of Old Age

I recently read two new murder mysteries involving old people sleuthing – the plots were amazingly similar, but the attitude was quite different.  It is worth considering the portrayal of old age in one of my favorite genres.

The two murder mysteries both concern the death of elderly people – intended and unintended.  In The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp by Leonie Swann, a self-made community of elders provides euthanasia services for one of their members, by (as she requested) shooting her when she wasn’t expecting it.  The plan goes astray when someone else gets the gun and muddies the waters by shooting unintended victims.  Since the gun belongs to one of their own, the senior community has to solve the crime before they are suspected – and they have to do it without admitting to their own involvement in the first death.  A little complicated, but it is made more so by the fact that almost all the older characters are… muddled.  Now a lot of us are muddled on occasion, but such confusion seems to define these characters – who are, to be sure, muddled in a variety of ways. In one scene the oldsters are about to go into the funeral of one of the victims, when one of them refuses to go in because they are wearing hats, and she does not have one.  “Nobody wanted to give up their hat, so they continued to stand around the taxi at a loss.”  The poor soul ends up wearing a tea cozy for a hat.  Cute, somewhat funny, but not much of a compliment to the characters.

In Leonie Swann’s previous mystery, which I liked very much, the detectives were a herd of very bright and interesting sheep – for the most part.  Some were – well – stupid and silly, but I took no offense when Swann portrayed foolish sheep.  She should have stuck to animals. Please note that The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp got marvelous reviews, so I am in the minority on this.  And it is a good story, a good read, and while I do not have any trouble acknowledging the quirks of elders, I do object when realism tips into caricature.

Richard Osman’s The Last Devil to Die is the fourth and latest installment in the “Thursday Murder Club” series.  Again, we have a carefully planned act of euthanasia, but it is a side plot and there is a careful line drawn between the undesired deaths and the desired one. Osman’s seniors are so skillful, that they have the local police working for them, and while they have their quirks, they are not strictly old folk quirks.  And yet, as one of the characters puts it, they work with the “urgency of old age.” The most touching thing is the camaraderie among them; they help each other out in mechanical and emotional ways and show the very best of what an elderly community can be – discounting the murders, of course.

One point here about the old in both of these novels – they must depend on one another.  When their children appear on site, things deteriorate badly.  Grandchildren are fine if they are young and not in the company of their parents.  But there is a consistent despair in relying on the next generation, and greater comfort in people that understand the joy and anguish of getting old.  Both authors sympathetically explore the issue of euthanasia, although Osman gives us the more realistic and rounded view of the complexity of end-of-life decisions.

But back to my review of these mysteries.  My opinion here is not that either of these mysteries is bad; but there is a difference between having protagonists who happen to be old and spinning your plot around the quirks of bumbling elders.  I do not mind oldsters in books who have senior moments or balance problems; I object to portraying these realities as silly.

Neither of these authors is aged; Swann is in her forties and Osman is in his early fifties.  Many mystery writers, like Agatha Christie and Ngaio Marsh, wrote well into their eighties, and for a model of senior detectives, no one can beat Miss Marple.

I have written very few mystery stories, and none involving the elderly, but if you have my predilection for the unsolved problem, you might enjoy “Essentials” or “No Change Orders.”

Wise Old Women – Elderly Detectives

I have often thought that the most admirable old women in literature were the spinster detectives, and there are many to choose from.  My two favorites emerged at about the same time – the end of the roaring twenties, the “Golden Age” of detective literature.  Miss Marple made her debut in a short story in 1927 (“Tuesday Night Club”) and her first novel-length appearance in 1928 in Agatha Christie’s Murder at the Vicarage.  Patricia Wentworth’s Miss Silver solved her first case in 1928 in Grey Mask.  I got to thinking about these two recently (just finished a Miss Silver novel) and realized that the two ladies presented interesting models for old age.

Neither Miss Marple nor Miss Silver ever marries.  Miss Marple lives in a house called Danemead, “the last cottage on Old Pasture Lane,” in the little English village of St. Mary Mead.  She has apparently never worked and has “independent means of support.” She has learned all she needs to know about humanity by closely observing those around her.  As she points out frequently, “very painful and disturbing things happen in villages sometimes.” As far as I recall, Miss Marple never takes remuneration for setting the world to rights, but she often helps her nephew (an officer of the law), who supplements her income in later years.  Miss Marple has a soft look about her with clouds of white hair and pink cheeks; she presents as a kindly grandmother or a favorite great aunt.

Miss Silver was not so fortunate; she worked tirelessly as a schoolteacher and a governess for many years before inheriting a little money with which she acquired a London flat.  To supplement her modest legacy, she supports herself by taking on “discreet private inquiries” – all references are by word of mouth, and word travels fast among the genteel class of Brits.

Miss Silver knows children very well indeed from her years in the classroom, and to her, all adults are just tall children, still trying to get away with things.  There is nothing “soft” about Miss Silver; she wears a rigid hair net, very thick stockings, and prickly tweeds – every inch the governess.  Both ladies are proficient and constant knitters, but I will come back to that.

Christie was 38 when she wrote the first Miss Marple; Wentworth was 49 when Miss Silver was birthed.  Both authors wrote books well into their eighties, and it would be interesting to study how their descriptions of old age evolved as they themselves aged.

There are at least four reasons the two old ladies are such successful detectives.  For one, they are brilliant readers of human nature.  They have closely monitored the world (a relatively small world in both cases) and learned all the lessons there are to learn.  They are able to winnow out the facts, even in emotionally charged situations. “I have cultivated the habit of close observation,” says Miss Silver.  “These things are not really difficult to perceive.”  At least for old ladies who pay attention.

Secondly, they are great knitters.  There is no cheating in knitting.   If one drops a stitch, one needs to chase it down.  Patterns are important; all the parts must fit together.  Miss Marple and Miss Silver will patiently untangle a skein of yarn, just as they untangle a situation.  They will quietly knit until a shape emerges (usually a bootie or other piece of infant attire – the ladies have countless great-nieces and -nephews).  The incessant click-clack of their needles mesmerizes those whom they are subtly examining; people relax into truthfulness.

Third, they are detached.  They are able to stand back from the emotional turmoil of the moment and ask the pertinent questions.  Who stands to gain?  Who loved the victims and who hated them (sometimes the same person)?  What makes sense given the facts?    Being detached also means they bring no false pride to their work; they are not afraid to follow the facts or their instincts.  They could not care less what anyone else thinks, although they are empathetic to the sufferers in any situation.  And they don’t care who gets the credit, endearing them to the law enforcement officers (always men) with whom they work and who are happy to get the case solved and take the bows.  This, of course, also means their favorite bobbies are happy to take suggestions and share information.

The fourth reason that these ladies are able to discover the murderer when even Scotland Yard is stymied is that they are always underestimated and often not even noticed.  They can find a reason to insinuate themselves into almost any situation, and then they listen and watch – and knit.  Both do more cogitating than they do actively pursuing clues, but they do sometimes take the initiative.  The old ladies faint away in households where they wish to spend the night, and they gladly offer to sit with sick patients or recently bereaved widows – if they hope they can learn something.  And they are kind.  “Now suppose you sit down here, dear, and just tell me all about it,” says Miss Marple over and over again.  Being old is often about being invisible, but these ladies use it to their advantage.  People sit down, watch the knitting needles click, and tell these old ladies everything.

There are many other old lady detectives – Mrs. Bradley (Gladys Mitchell), Mrs. Pollifax (Dorothy Gilman), and countless others.  Please feel free to suggest your own favorites.  My point is that they exemplify ways we can make the most of old age.  I don’t like being marginalized in any way, but it is nice to remember that we can use our status (or lack of it) to it our own advantage – and that of others.

I’m trying to write my own old lady mystery these days, but I once wrote a story (“Essentials”) about a younger woman whose imagination is sparked by the thought that she might be involved in a murder investigation.  Of course, I am not suggesting in any way that we need murders to liven up our lives – but to paraphrase Samuel Johnson, there is nothing like a death to “concentrate the mind wonderfully.”