Thoughts on mysteries

I just started my detective fiction course for school and I thought that his assignment might help better expound upon some of the things I have been trying to convey through this blog for some time.

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There is something comforting about a murder mystery or at least certain murder mysteries for me. I am speaking particularly of the ones where one finds oneself in a small hamlet, with an over large cemetery. These are the ones where every time you meet a new character they are either a victim or a murderer. Stir in a lead character with some pluck and let the mayhem ensue. It is a little certainty in an uncertain world for me as a reader. I particularly like mysteries where the lead sleuth is an amateur. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be Jessica Fletcher when I grew up, and I am still drawn to that kind of mystery novel protagonist.

I didn’t cut my teeth on Sherlock Holmes like most people do. I always thought there was something pretentious about Sherlock Holmes that made me less interested in reading those stories. It wasn’t until the recent BBC production of Sherlock Holmes that I saw a version of him that I was drawn to, and having heard the portrayal is generally accurate to the novels, I have been excited to read the books. Doyle has been in my reading queue for a bit, so the fact that I get to read them for this class is an added bonus.

Anyway, my first real eye-opening introduction to mysteries came when I was about 10 with “Angie’s First Case” by Donald Sobol (of Encyclopedia Brown fame). It was the first chapter book I had really been engaged in, and the first time I was so enthralled by a book that I curled up and read it cover to cover on a Saturday afternoon. I loved the experience so much I have been afraid to re-read it for fear that it would no longer be what I imagined it to be. For this reason, I have lost most of the story line and couldn’t offer much comment.

My favorite mystery/thriller novel though is probably “Cranes of Ibycus” by Mary Craig. This was a book my mom picked up at a library book sale when I was a teenager which I promptly borrowed. It was so much more then I expected to be, and the story was so driving that I couldn’t put it down. A couple of years ago, my mom gave me the book when I asked if I could borrow it again. As much as I was afraid of the disappointed nostalgia, I fell in love with it all over again. I tend to prefer the type of mystery where an amateur gets caught up in a complex problem (murder or otherwise) they can’t solve, and the story becomes a journey through all of the clues and processes that lead them to a resolution. Many times, and “Cranes of Ibycus” is not an exception, the character grows through this experience and there is nothing more important to me in a story of any genre of fiction then character development.

This book is not a murder mystery per se and it certainly isn’t detective fiction. But it is does feel so thrilling while one is reading it. The characters are ones that you can care about which is actually a fairly important factor in a novel for me because it means that you start to care about the same things they do and one can get caught up in those near-death or near-awesome experiences. It is an out-dated and out-of-print book but one of the most enjoyable reads I have ever had.

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Actually writing this I found that there is another out-of-print book by Mary Craig and I purchased it on Amazon. I may have to wait until June to read it but I wanted to find some of that same reading experience again.