I read this book for the Back to the Classics Challenge 2015.
Best Max Carrados Detective Stories – Ernest Bramah
It is a tribute to his imagination
and writing ability that Englishman Ernest Bramah (1868 - 1942) remains fairly
well-known as the author of the Kai Lung stories, artistically licensed as
narrated by a Chinese teller of tales.
Bramah’s Max Carrados
books are also well-regarded. The books are collections of short stories
starring a wealthy blind man, Max Carrados, one of whose hobbies, besides collecting
ancient Greek coins, was criminal investigation. This Dover reprint kicks off with the story that introduces Carrados and
his pompous sidekick the professional PI Louis Carlyle “The Coin of Dionysius.”
But a better story is the
second one “The Mystery of the Vanished Petition Crown.” A coin collector
himself, Bramah uses his own experience with coin dealers and coin auctions to write
this persuasive story. After finding the missing coin with supernatural
insight, Carrados tells us mortals how to do his method, as if Zeus were
instructing us dudes on how to become swans to attract the ladies:
[T]here is no form of villainy that I haven't
gone through in all its phases. Theoretically, of course, but so far as working
out the details is concerned and preparing for emergencies, efficiently and
with craftsman-like pride. Whenever I fail to get to sleep at night-rather
frequently, I'm sorry to say--I commit a murder, forgery, a robbery or what not
with all its ramifications ... the criminal mind is rarely original, and I find
that in nine cases out of ten that sort of crime is committed exactly as I have
already done it.
“The Holloway Flat
Tragedy” is a departure from the usual “inexplicable crime” story in that it
involves a murder, but its psychological insight is convincing and the twist is
quite satisfying. Other stories involves puzzling cases Louis Carlyle has
brought to involve nutty but all too human behavior such as “The Ghost at Massingham Mansions” or “The Mystery of the Poisoned Dish of
Mushrooms,” or the unique “ The
Disappearance of Marie Severe,” which includes tough smacks at Christian
Science and its obnoxious American proponents.
The
appeal of the stories is that an
attention to detail and robust characters contribute to an air of
verisimilitude. Also attractive are the Edwardian interjections “egad” and “pshaw”
not to mention turns of phrase like “But, for all that, I feel devilishly bad.”
This kind of Dickensy turn,
a reader likes or doesn’t like, I suppose:
Mr
Carlyle had no difficulty in discovering the centre of interest in the
basement. Sir Benjamin was expansive and reserved, bewildered and decisive,
long-winded and short-tempered, each in turn and more or less all at once. He
had already demanded the attention of the manager, Professor Bulge, Draycott
and two underlings to his case and they were now involved in a babel of inutile
reiteration. The inquiry agent was at once drawn into a circle of interrogation
that he did his best to satisfy impressively while himself learning the new
facts.
“A babel of inutile
reiteration.” It’s been a long time since I felt that rush of a
thirteen-year-old reader, that buzz a reading kid gets from seeing new words
deployed in new ways, usually in Sherlock Holmes stories. Plus, “a babel of
inutile reiteration” perfectly describes too many meetings that, because I am a
sinner, I am compelled to attend….
I don’t think the more
far-fetched stories are any more far-fetched than a Sherlock Holmes story such
as “Speckled Band.” Some points test skepticism. Max
Carrados has supernaturally sensitive
finger-tips, so he can read the headlines and even some of the 12-point in an
ordinary newspaper. Ink is raised on the rough paper of a newspaper, don’t you
know? Carrados’s super-sharp sense of temperature
changes, hearing, taste and smell also allow him to gather clues out of the ken
of us seeing folk. His disability is no barrier to excellence.
I
unearthed this book on the recommendation of George Orwell. In the essay “GoodBad Books” he cites Ernest Bramah by name as the writer of “[a] type of book which we hardly seem to produce in
these days, but which flowered with great richness in the late nineteenth and
early twentieth centuries, is what
Chesterton called the "good bad book": that is, the kind of book that has no literary pretensions
but which remains readable when more
serious productions have perished.” The Max Carrados
stories have remained in print for about a century by now and at present are available
in various electronic formats (and free at Project Gutenberg). What better
proof that they have stood the test of time?
No comments:
Post a Comment