I read this book for the Mount TBR Reading Challenge hosted over
at My
Reader’s Block from January 1 – December 31, 2016. The challenge is to read
books that you already own.
Dancers in
Mourning – Margery Allingham
Full disclosure, so you can stop reading soon if I’m too
unpleasant. Here is my rating of the mistresses of whodunnits in order of worst to first: Dame Agatha, Dorothy Sayers, Ngaio Marsh, Patricia
Moyes, and for my bestie, Margery Allingham. Reasons why: Dame Agatha
doesn’t do anything for me as to characterization or setting, both of which I
need even a modicum; Lord Peter is a nitwit and Harriet unbearable; Marsh is
wickedly funny, with believable atmospheres; Moyes
is cozy in a good way, with realistic settings; and Marsh is the best writer in
terms of characterization, incident, and theme.
Hello? Anybody left? Wasn’t
“insufferable Professor Vane” in the Xmas spirit?
Dancers in
Mourning, from 1937, is the 8th mystery to feature her series
hero, Albert Campion. Born in 1900, he served in only the last six months of
the Great War. The experience may have aged him beyond his years, because
though only in his thirties, he slips out of his bland inoffensive manner to
reveal the inborn authority and poise of the natural aristocrat that impresses
even the police. Allingham is ever aware
of the double-edged use of snobbery, so she sometimes coyly hints at his title
while Campion doesn’t much think about it at all.
Like the later novel The Fashion in Shrouds, Dancers in Mourning takes us into a
seemingly romantic, stylish world, that of the boards of musical comedy. Star
of the fantastic toe, Jimmy Sutane, has made a massive hit out of the
unintentionally silly memoir by Campion’s old buddy, “Uncle” William Faraday whom
we met in Police at the Funeral
(1931).
Uncle William calls Campion for a consultation because
somebody is playing nasty practical jokes on Jimmy Sutane. The sheer number of
the jibes and their creepy malice have rattled the dancers, who, like many loosely-educated
creative types, are as superstitious as medieval peasants. Back at Sutane’s
country house, Sutane’s wife Linda is also agitated because strangers have been
gamboling in their garden in the middle of the night.
Allingham, for a little snob appeal, takes us out to the
country house, of course. But, she assures us who don’t have the snob gene,
it’s hardly an idyllic place. It’s a treadmill where the master rehearses new
acts, cajoles money guys, oversees auditions, and soothes temperaments. Jimmy
Sutane feels pressure to succeed because so many people depend on his coming up
with another hit show. Consequently, his life is nothing but work and a parade
of ambitious stressed people. Allingham makes a serious point about the hazards
of allowing work and the demands of other people to consume all of one’s life.
Dancer and singer Chloe, slightly past her prime, squeezes
an invitation out of Linda. But Chloe’s sudden death makes a chaotic household more
or less unbearable. Was it suicide or a natural death? During the
investigation, Campion finds himself falling in love with Linda. Campion
exasperates himself by doing so, making him a very likable guy. Allingham
handles this romance plausibly, and it fits right into the story.
No comments:
Post a Comment