FOR THE
CONNOISSEUR OF DETECTIVE FICTION:
Margery Allingham
“To Albert Campion has
fallen
the honour of
being the first detective to figure in a story which is also, even when
judged by
the fixed stars of criticism, a distinguished novel.” –
Torquemada,
Observer, 10th July 1938
<>
The detective stories of Margery Allingham (1903
– 66) were rightly advertised as being “for the connoisseur of
detective
fiction”. Her detective, Albert Campion,
is interesting both as a clever sleuth in the Wimsey vein and as a man:
the Wodehousian
young dilettante of the early thrillers, the tragic lover of Dancers in Mourning, the more successful
wooer of Amanda Fitton in The Fashion in
Shrouds, the universal uncle of the 1940s and the observant,
self-effacing
spymaster of the later books. Her plots
are always ingenious and (when proper detective stories such as Police at the Funeral or Coroner’s Pidgin as
opposed to the later
studies in abnormal psychology such as the gripping Hide
My Eyes or the good-natured thrillers of the 1920s) properly
difficult
to solve – but it is as a novelist,
rather than a writer of detective stories, that she excels. She has the ability to create an unusual
setting
and to introduce the reader to every facet of its existence so that he
feels as
much a part of it as the publishers, dancers or modistes whose world it
is. Her characters, too, are recognisable
human
beings: her indomitable old women have a vitality to them that makes
them more
than comical stereotypes, her eccentrics (notably the Palinodes in More Work for the Undertaker) have a
pathos which lends them credence, and her villains and criminals, whose
patois
is such a memorable feature of the later books, are more than
one-dimensional portraits. She brought a
novelist’s eye to the detective
story, using the form to study character and emotions.
In many ways, she is the Galsworthy of the detective
story.
What's New:
These pages copyright Nicholas Lester Fuller,
2000--2010. Created 3rd December 2004.
