Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Story Behind the Story:
“The Hunting Ground,” by J. Robert Janes

(Editor’s note: This 42nd entry in The Rap Sheet’s “Story Behind the Story” series reintroduces us to Canadian author J. Robert Janes, who I was so privileged to interview last year. In the essay below, he writes about The Hunting Ground [Mysterious Press/Open Road], his new standalone thriller set during the German occupation of France during World War II.)

A year ago last January I had to undergo a very serious operation on my right eye and was told to keep my head down for at least 10 days. I managed 14, but what does someone who’s used to working every day of the week but Sundays do for all that time?

Out came the clipboard and the manuscript--there was, in retrospect, never any question of what I would work on during my convalescence. You see, The Hunting Ground has been with me ever since 1990, and has been through at least six or seven revisions during those years. It’s the book I first worked on after my thriller The Alice Factor was finally set to be published in 1991. Which was before I started writing Mayhem (1992), the opening number in my Jean-Louis St-Cyr/Hermann Kohler mystery series.

Head down, pencil in hand--for I always compose my stories in longhand and have for the past 43 years of full-time writing--I started in. And yes, I always use one of those rechargeable pencils: HB 0.5mm leads and no others. That first day, I worked for 12 hours straight and totally forgot myself.

Immediately, it all came back, all those doors that had opened in my imagination, opening again and again into Occupied France during the Second World War. Those 14 recovery days eventually stretched into six months of work on The Hunting Ground. And certainly, when I retyped the manuscript later on, I could have used both eyes, had they been working in sync and in focus. However, the operation was a terrific success and I am extremely lucky to have come through it so well.

In The Hunting Ground, Lily de St Germain (née Hollis) is a wife and mother who, in 1938 and living in what she has come to call a “château” on the edge of Fontainebleau Forest to the southeast of Paris, feels increasingly that she must take her children and leave before the threat of war reaches her doorstep. A chance meeting in Paris during the first exodus in September 1939 brings a man named Thomas Carrington into her life. He keeps coming back, but initially it’s not because of his interest in Lily, it’s because of something her son has found hidden--hidden by his papa, Lily’s unfaithful husband, for friends who are no friends of hers. Only when Tommy takes Lily and the children to England, does she discover that he’s an insurance investigator who works for a very old, well-established firm in London that underwrites the underwriters. But, of course, Lily’s husband steals their children back and she has to return to that “château.”

Always I am drawn into the story I’m telling and that, in itself, can be a very powerful thing. And of course, once done, one has to stand back and look at it all from a distance. Sure, some things you might not see even then, simply because you’ve been so close to the work for such a long time. But Lily, as the first-person narrator of this yarn, had--and still has--a lot of meaning for me because, in essence, she spoke of what was happening to so many others. Lots and lots of people just like her hoped never to be drawn into such a war or made victims of that war’s violence, and yet they were. Lily comes to see and live with the very changes war visits upon her, a mother with two children.

She also introduced me to the German occupation of France (1940-1944) and allowed me to open door after door into what is a truly remarkable period of history. And certainly, when I was working again on this novel last year, with a far greater understanding of the history than I had back in 1990, I could have included and dealt with other aspects I’ve come to understand since then. But I didn’t; I wanted the story to be as close as possible to the way I’d written it originally.

Becoming an active résistante, Lily goes on to work with Tommy and others in the search for and recovery of stolen works of art. However, she’s ultimately arrested and sent to the German concentration camps at Birkenau and then Bergen-Belsen, where the past and those recollections of Tommy and the others are all that really keep her going. Always, though, she blames herself for what happened. Finally freed in 1945, her recovery is uncertain. From a clinic in Zurich, Switzerland, she begins sending little black pasteboard coffins to her husband and his friends, and also to one other person, all of whom think her dead and themselves released from any responsibility for what has happened. Telephone calls follow in which Lily tells each of those people that, while they may have been cleared by the Résistance, she’s coming home and they are to meet her at the “château.” But time, which for her, in the concentration camps, has been spent entirely in a memory-packed past, increasingly confronts her with the present, until both are one and the same. To achieve her ends, she’ll have to employ all of the survival skills she learned from the Résistance, as her husband--together with his friends, a Sûreté detective inspector, Gaetan Dupuis, and a former SS Obersturmführer, Ernst Johann Schiller--pursue her in what was once the hunting ground of kings: namely, Fontainebleau Forest.

I still vividly recall that after my first attempt at writing this historical and psychological thriller, I set my pencil aside and asked myself, “Hey, what about a good Sûreté officer in all of this Occupation? Of course, he’d need a German overseer, since everything else did in those days. I’d call him Hermann Kohler but make him only a detective inspector, since Jean-Louis St-Cyr, his French counterpart, was a chief inspector.”

The notion of writing a series attracted me. I knew, though, that if I were to tackle it properly, I had to keep on delivering new installments to bookstores. As a result, I set aside The Hunting Ground and concentrated on the wartime investigative adventures of St-Cyr and Kohler. Yet still, I found myself coming back repeatedly to the tense tale of Lily de St-Germain. Finally, I had that eye operation and those six months of concentrated work on the novel, and it all led to the publication this week of The Hunting Ground--23 years after I started writing the novel.

It’s only the first of two new books with my name on them. Tapestry, the 14th installment in my St-Cyr and Kohler series (following last year’s Bellringer), is due out from Mysterious Press/Open Road on June 4. And The Alice Factor is set to be released as an e-book, also from Mysterious Press/Open Road, on June 5.

So in a sense, for me as well as for Lily, the past has become the present.

North Stars

Part II of my broad overview of what Canadian crime fiction has to offer is now posted on the Kirkus Reviews site. This time, I’ve focused on authors John McFetridge, Louise Penny, and six more “contemporary Canadian mystery-makers whose tales you ought to sample, if you haven’t already.” You’ll find the article here.

And Part I can still be enjoyed here.

And Much Later, The Rap Sheet Was Born

It’s not going too far to call this development world-changing:
It was twenty years ago today, on 30 April 1993, that CERN made the technology of the World Wide Web available free of charge to the public. The World Wide Web would not only revolutionise the Internet, but in the process would also revolutionise the world itself. From science to education to business to entertainment, there has probably not been one field that has not been changed by the World Wide Web.
A Shroud of Thoughts has more on this subject here.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Check Out These Contenders

The British Crime Writers’ Association today announced its longlist of 13 nominees for the 2013 Dagger in the Library Award. As the CWA has explained before, this annual Dagger is given “not for an individual book but for the author’s body of work.” The contenders are:

Belinda Bauer
Alison Bruce
S.J. Bolton
Peter May
Gordon Ferris
Tania Carver
Elly Griffiths
Christopher Fowler
Michael Ridpath
Jane Casey
Phil Rickman
Alex Gray
Frances Brody

More information about the individual authors--at least most of whom have vied for this prize before--can be found here.

From the names mentioned above, a shortlist of finalists will be selected and the identities of those authors disclosed on May 31 during CrimeFest in Bristol, England. The eventual winner will be announced in the course of the Daggers Gala Dinner on July 15.

Last year’s CWA Dagger in the Library recipient was Steve Mosby.

Friday, April 26, 2013

The Book You Have to Read:
“Carambola,“ by David Dodge

(Editor’s note: This is the 125th entry in our ongoing blog series highlighting great but forgotten books. Today’s recommendation comes from Randal S. Brandt, a librarian at the University of California, Berkeley’s Bancroft Library. Brandt is also the creator of two critically lauded Web sites: Golden Gate Mysteries, an annotated bibliography of crime fiction set in the San Francisco Bay Area; and A David Dodge Companion, which chronicles the life and works of mystery/thriller writer David Dodge [1910-1974]. To learn more about Brandt and his interest in Dodge, click here).

Even for a largely forgotten author like David Dodge, his 12th novel, Carambola (1961), represents a new level of obscurity. Although it was published to positive reviews, it failed to capture the attention of contemporary readers.

At the start of the 1950s, David Dodge was on top of his game as a writer. In 1952, he struck literary gold with To Catch a Thief, his story of an American jewel thief living in quiet retirement in the South of France, who is drawn back into his old life when a copycat crook starts operating in the glittering playground of the rich and famous. That novel was optioned by Alfred Hitchcock before it was even published and, in 1955, the movie adaptation was released by Paramount Pictures featuring an all-star cast headed by Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, and with filming having taken place on location along the spectacular Côte d’Azur. Dodge’s next two novels, The Lights of Skaro and Angel’s Ransom, followed in 1954 and 1956, respectively, and shared with To Catch a Thief the key elements of expatriate Americans in exotic foreign locales.

Dodge’s next novel, however, was a distinct departure from his usual “blood and thunder” melodramas. Loo Loo’s Legacy (1960) is a comedic novel set in a boarding house in an unnamed East Coast city, featuring a large cast of eccentric characters. It was an utter failure. Dodge, who had been alternating his writing of thrillers with his work on a series of popular, humorous, anecdotal travel books, was encouraged by his publishers to employ that lighter tone and style in a novel. But then, when he took their advice, those publishers failed to put any effort into marketing the novel.

Discouraged by that experience, Dodge returned to more familiar storytelling territory with Carambola, a classic example of the “chase novel.”

The American hardcover appeared in April 1961 and was followed later that same year by an English hardcover version under the title High Corniche. But the paperback reprint publishers failed to take it up and, to this day, no paperback edition exists. As with Loo Loo’s Legacy, the publishers deserve no credit for boosting sales of Carambola. Its drab gray jacket art on the first edition certainly could not have aided readers in judging the book by its cover. And a British reprint edition that appeared in 1972 has one of the least appealing fronts in the history of thriller fiction: a profile photograph of a jaunty, grinning fellow with a bared chest, regrettable sideburns, and a comb-over. I know it was the 1970s, but come on. Really?

Dodge’s story begins on a beach in Cannes, France, when Andy Holland, an itinerant mining engineer, recognizes one of the contestants in a beauty contest even though he has never seen her before. The nearly 18-year-old American girl, who introduces herself as Mike (short for Micaela) Magill, is the spitting image of Holland’s ex-wife, Marsha, who had left him in the middle of a Peruvian jungle a little more than 18 years previously. As a novice engineer engaged in his first contract, he--as Marsha put it--chose a gravel bar over her. Realizing that the girl in the bikini must be his daughter, Holland soon tracks down Marsha herself. He then learns that Marsha’s husband, Harry Magill--the only father Micaela has ever known--is in hiding in Barcelona, where he is wanted on a charge of murder. It seems Magill had avenged his wife’s honor by shooting the man who’d raped her.

Holland also learns that an egotistical, but well-connected, Spanish marqués, Carlos de Vilasar, has committed himself to helping Magill. The price of his help, though, is Micaela’s hand in marriage. Marsha is torn between her own desperation over her husband’s fate and the prospect of giving her young daughter to a man who neither loves nor respects her, and who routinely risks his own life and the lives of others in the pursuit of reckless thrills. To keep his daughter from a disastrous marriage, Holland agrees to go to Barcelona and find some way to get Magill out of Spain.

Holland finds Magill hiding in a barrio with a fiercely loyal Catalan smuggler called Candelas. Originally planning to travel by fishing boat up the coast to France, this trio’s first escape route is thwarted by a ship captain’s greed and loose tongue. So, instead, they strike out overland through the tiny country of Andorra, high in the Pyrenees on the Spanish-French border. Andorra is a smuggler’s haven and Candelas has useful connections there, including a wealthy baron--a “master among contrabandists”--who lives in a 15th-century castle and offers them food and shelter. After leaving Andorra loaded down with packs of illegal goods--anyone not carrying contraband out of the country would immediately attract the suspicion of the authorities--they have to make a difficult night-time climb over a rugged mountain pass.


David and Elva Dodge in Princeton, N.J., 1956

As Holland, Magill, and Candelas attempt to reach safety in France, they are pursued from both sides of the border by the Spanish police, the French customs guards, and the Marqués de Vilasar who, angry at being outflanked by Holland, has put up a huge reward for their capture. The journey is complicated by Magill’s various physical limitations, as well as by Holland’s ambivalence about saving a man who stands between him and his chances at rekindling a relationship with Marsha and starting one with his newly discovered daughter. These feelings are pitted against Candelas’ threat that any harm that befalls Magill along the way will also be visited upon Holland--at Candelas’ hands.

Another impediment to the success of this novel may have been its strange, foreign-sounding title. Carambola is a Spanish word that has dual meanings. It is a billiards term referring to the impact of a cue ball against two other balls in succession. Candelas invokes this image when making his threat to Holland, and throughout the course of the novel, as alliances form and break among the three principal characters, that meaning is apt. However, the word can also mean “fluke,” “by lucky chance,” or “sheer luck,” and it is certainly sheer luck that Holland happens to be on the Cannes beach at the exact moment his daughter is there for him to recognize, thus providing the motive for his actions on Magill’s behalf. This latter meaning of carambola also takes on ironic significance, as Holland, who has spent much of his professional career in the Arab world, frequently muses on the Muslim concept of inshallah (“God willing”), which suggests that there is no such thing as luck or chance; everything has been predetermined and one must simply accept one’s fate.

(Left) Kendal Dodge in Cannes, circa 1956

When Carambola was originally published, David Dodge’s own daughter, Kendal, was a 21-year-old student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts, living away from her parents for the first time. From the time Kendal was 5 years old until her high school graduation, Dodge and his wife, Elva, had been traveling around the world, settling down for extended stays in Guatemala, Peru, and the South of France, where Dodge would gather local color for his international thrillers and practical advice for cost-conscious travelers (his The Poor Man’s Guide to Europe was a best-seller for much of the ’50s). After spending four years back in the United States, so that Kendal could attend high school, David and Elva began traveling again, but this time they left her behind in college. No doubt, they were feeling a bit insecure about their little girl growing up. With its theme of fathers being motivated by the desire to protect their daughters, it is no coincidence that Dodge dedicated Carambola to Kendal.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Book You Have to Read:
“A Rage in Harlem,” by Chester Himes

(Editor’s note: This is the 124th installment of our ongoing blog series highlighting great but forgotten books. Today’s installment comes from Ayo Onatade. In addition to being a London-based contributor to both the e-zine Shots and its companion blog, Shotsmag Confidential, she writes for Crimespree Magazine. Ayo also works for 12 Justices at the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom, and is a major fan of American football.)

My introduction to Chester Himes goes back to what I refer to as my initial noir days. The period when I had finished reading the Golden Age classics and moved on to such authors as Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, and James M. Cain. Chester Himes’ A Rage in Harlem was initially titled La Reine des Pommes (The Queen of Fools) and was the opening entry in what would become known as his Harlem Cycle. When it was first published in the United States in 1957, the book was called For the Love of Imabelle. Himes actually wanted to call it The Five-Cornered Square. The novel went on to win the French crime-fiction prize, the Grand Prix de Littérature Policière, in 1958 in the international category.

A Rage in Harlem is not a lengthy novel; it comes in at just around 200 pages long and can be read in a single day, if you feel so inclined. It is also Himes’ first book to feature black Harlem cops Grave Digger Jones and Coffin Ed Johnson. Compared with the later books in that series, both of these characters feature a lot less in A Rage in Harlem. One wonders whether this was because Himes had not yet made the decision to use this pair of New York City cops in more than one book.

The novel begins with a guy named Jackson, who works (unofficially) for a local undertaker, borrowing money from his boss and then promptly losing it in a confidence trick set up by his beautiful but disloyal girlfriend, Imabelle, and her common-law husband, gang leader Slim, along with Slim’s cronies. Annoyed and upset by this turn of events, Jackson approaches his brother, who just happens to be a snitch for Jones and Johnson, to get his money back. Together, the police partners try to track down the swindlers and save Jackson.

There are a number of aspects to A Rage in Harlem that some modern readers might find uncomfortable; this book is certainly not for the prudish. Still, one has to remember that at the time Himes was working on his fiction, the way in which the New York police dealt with accused people and the victims of crime was not the same way they would deal with them today. It would be extremely hard for us to grasp nowadays how appalling what he was writing about was for many people in the 1950s.

(Left) Illustrator Mitchell Hooks’ 1957 American cover for Himes’ novel.

The level of violence portrayed in A Rage in Harlem is of varying degrees, most of it quite graphic but also some of it comedic in a dark way. For example, at one point Coffin Ed has acid thrown in his face--an act that changes his behavior from then on out. Grave Digger’s response, when he realizes that he has one of Ed’s attackers at the police station, is to commit an act both brutal and savage. Elsewhere in the book, two other characters meet quite appalling deaths, one being shot through both eyes, whilst the other is hacked open with an axe.

It is not surprising that Himes had difficulty portraying the police as good; his own experiences with officers of the law left a lot to be desired and no doubt influenced his fiction. Neither Jones nor Johnson can be seen as gallant. They are not only deceitful, but unless they are the ones committing violence, they find it objectionable. Furthermore, their idea of justice is trivial.

When one thinks of Chester Himes and the quality of his work, it is disappointing and sad to realize how disregarded he has become within American literary circles. His work was grimy and gritty, but also very well-written. His books offer a realistic portrayal of Harlem during a period when violence and social depravation went hand in hand. Himes was not afraid to deal with these issues in his fiction. It does occasionally make for uncomfortable reading; but one should not forget the entertainment value of his storytelling and also the socio-political energies that flow through a book such as this one.

A Rage in Harlem is an urban police procedural like no other. It offers a high degree of violence. It delves into female sexuality in rather blatant fashion, which some readers might find unnerving. And gender roles are thrown into the plotting mix along with alcohol and drug abuse and the varying ethnicities of some of the characters. Why this novel is so frequently overlooked by today’s readers is a mystery. Could it be that Chester Himes has been somehow ostracized by the American literati? One hopes not, because in A Rage in Harlem we are given a novel that is essentially a classic, a work of noir fiction that ranks with the best of them.

Five and Thriving

Five years ago this week, Detroit author Patti Abbott suggested to her fellow crime-fiction enthusiasts and other book fans that they start producing regular blog posts in celebration of “books we love but might have forgotten over the years.” As she remarked on April 24, 2008, “I’m worried great books of the recent past are sliding out of print and out of our consciousness. Not the first-tier classics we all can name, but the books that come next.”

Abbott’s proposal has since generated a wealth of vintage-book recommendations, particularly from bloggers such as Bill Crider, James Reasoner, Todd Mason, Evan Lewis, Kerrie Smith, Randy Johnson, B.V. Lawson, J.F. Norris, Scott Cupp, Martin Edwards, Ed Gorman, and George Kelley. The Rap Sheet has pitched in more than 120 contributions to this remarkable series.

Although most such reading advice has been dispensed on Fridays, The Rap Sheet is commemorating this five-year anniversary with two successive days of book recommendations. We’ll begin today with a tip from British critic Ayo Onatade, and conclude tomorrow with a suggestion from Bay Area librarian Randal S. Brandt.

Tremendous thanks are owed to Patti Abbott for initiating this Web-wide project. It has opened the eyes of many readers to older works of fiction (and less non-fiction) that they had either never heard of, or that they’d been leery of picking up without a solid recommendation from somebody else. There are still numerous works worth rediscovering. Certainly enough to ensure that this Friday “forgotten books” series has a healthy future.

You should look for still more of these book tips tomorrow in Abbott’s personal blog, Pattinase.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Matt Helm Fans, Take Note!

I was recently asked to come up with 20 trivia questions focused around Donald Hamilton’s long-running series of Matt Helm espionage thrillers. These stumpers can pertain not only to the more than two dozen Helm novels, but also to the films and short-lived TV series Hamilton’s character inspired. I’m supposed to submit my queries in early May.

It occurs to me that some Rap Sheet readers might find it fun to contribute their own posers to this mix. I’ll gladly entertain any and all suggestions. Please drop me a line--soon--at jpwrites@wordcuts.org. I ask only that whatever Helm-related questions you submit also include the answers, as well as info about where those answers can be found (either online or in the individual books).

So, who’s going to be the first reader to take on this challenge?

Maron’s Regional Richness

In advance of the announcement, expected on May 2, of the winners in the 2013 Edgar Awards competition (the full list of nominees is here), Florida crime-fiction critic Oline Cogdill has posted a tribute to Margaret Maron, one of this year’s two Grand Master Award recipients. (The other such honoree is, of course, Ken Follett.)

You’ll find Cogdill’s piece here.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Better, Stronger, Faster?

Let’s all wish Michigan-born actor Lee Majors a happy birthday. The former star of Owen Marshall: Counselor at Law, The Six Million Dollar Man, and The Fall Guy turns 74 years old today.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Bullet Points: Another Earth Day Edition

• Les Edgerton has posted a thoughtful, moving piece on the Out of the Gutter Web site about author-editor Cortright McMeel, who reportedly committed suicide last week. McMeel was the founder of Murdaland, a high-quality publication devoted to crime fiction that (sadly) lasted only two issues. He was also the author of a novel titled Short and “the force behind Denver’s Noir@Bar.” There are links to other McMeel tributes at the bottom of Edgerton’s piece.

• I don’t think I had seen this interview with writer Rex Stout before today. Conducted by Michael Bourne, the exchange was originally published back in 1973.

• Speaking of interviews worth noticing, Click here to read the results of J. Sydney Jones’ conversation with South African novelist Jassy Mackenzie, author of Pale Horses, her fourth outing for private eye Jade de Jong, which was just published by Soho Crime.

• And Philip Kerr talks with Mystery Scene’s Oline Cogdill about his acclaimed, World War II-era Bernie Gunther series, its latest entry, A Man Without Breath (Putnam), and the “strangest thing” his research into that time period has unearthed. “I find strange things all the time,” Kerr says. “It’s a period that is full of strange things. That’s what makes it interesting. I remember a time many years ago when I went to a place called Wewelsburg, where Himmler bought a castle that was to be the ‘spiritual HQ’ of the SS. It was also the smallest concentration camp in Germany. [Eight hundred] Soviet POWs were worked to death in the place. It’s now a youth hostel. I stayed there on my own one night. While I was there I discovered that the little village near the castle is still
used for SS reunions; that was an uncomfortable revelation to me--that there are plenty of people for whom Nazism still means something important.” You’ll find Cogdill’s interview here.

• Did you know that you can watch the entire run of Columbia Pictures’ 1943 Batman serial on YouTube? The 15 installments, starring Lewis Wilson, Douglas Croft, and J. Carrol Naish, begin here with a chapter titled “The Electric Brain.”

• Are you watching the three-part miniseries, The Bletchly Circle?

• The public voting process in this year’s Spinetingler Awards competition will continue through the end of April. There are six categories of nominees, including Best Novel: New Voice, Best Anthology/Short Story Collection, and Best Cover. If you haven’t yet cast a ballot, feel free to do so by clicking here.

• We’re nearing the end of Gerald So’s month-long crime poetry celebration in his blog The 5-2. If you haven’t been keeping up, never fear: the full collection of contributor links can be found here.

• Also still running is “The Scavenger,” the original tale from Christopher Mills and Rick Burchett’s crime-fiction Webcomic, Gravedigger. Today’s installment--No. 12 out of 28--can be enjoyed here. If you haven’t been following “The Scavenger,” you can catch up, beginning right here.

• Was Manhunt the “best crime-fiction magazine ever”?

• This month marks 16 years since the debut of Her Majesty’s Secret Servant, a Web site devoted to all things James Bond-ish. More here.

• Thank goodness last week’s extensive police hunt for two Boston Marathon bombers ended within a matter of days, and with one of the suspects--a naturalized U.S. citizen--being captured alive (and soon to be tried in federal court). As the search was underway, though, Read Me Deadly produced a post looking at “a small selection of Boston-related mysteries” that’s still worth checking out.

A bit of cool history: “Tiny pieces of California Gold Rush history fetched big bucks at a Reno auction of Western Americana. The Jack Totheroh Collection of some 200 gold coins privately made in San Francisco in the 1850s sold for $865,000, while the Bergen-Istvan Collection of about 50 similar gold coins went for $252,000 ... According to historians, the rare coins in 25 cent, 50 cent, and dollar denominations were struck by jewelers from 1852 to 1857 when there was a shortage of small change in California. Historians say while banks apparently didn’t accept them, they were used at some San Francisco businesses. They also became popular as souvenirs as early as 1853.” I’d love to have one of those babies.

TV Guide has been celebrating its 60th anniversary all month long. I used to be a TV Guide junkie, and I still own a stack of Fall Preview editions from the 1970s and ’80s. However, I haven’t bought an issue for years, the last time being shortly after the format switched from digest to full-size magazine in 2005 and TV Guide pretty much disappeared from grocery store checkout stands. Consequently, I missed seeing its recent list of “TV’s 60 Nastiest Villains,” which included The One-Armed Man from The Fugitive, Al Sweargengen from Deadwood, Nina Myers from 24, Al Capone from The Untouchables>, The Joker from Batman, and Number Two from The Prisoner.

• The term “pulp” may be inappropriately used here, but I’m still looking forward to getting my mitts on a copy of Black Pulp (CreateSpace), the new “anthology of original stories featuring black characters in leading roles in stories running the genre gamut.” Contributors to this paperback include Walter Mosley, Joe R. Lansdale, Gary Phillips, Mel Odom, Ron Fortier, and Gar Anthony Haywood.

• The latest edition of the podcast I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere tackles that ever-pressing question, “Who is a Sherlockian?”

• I’ve never had much respect for USA Today. I find it to be a shallow newspaper, directed mostly at people with short attention spans. However, I was interested last week in news that the paper’s founder, Al Neuharth, had died at age 89. What struck me most was a statement he made during a 1996 interview with the Poynter Institute for Media Studies: “There’s nothing [more] I’d want to do with my life than to be in the news business. I think that gives us a window on the world that you cannot have in any other business or profession.” As a veteran reporter myself, I know how that feels.

• Recently, I’ve been reading Jim Steinmeyer’s Who Was Dracula?: Bram Stoker’s Trail of Blood, which tries, in part, to identify the inspirations for Stoker’s bloodthirsty Transylvanian count. The author sums up his findings in this Huffington Post slideshow, and although I despise slideshows on the Web (why can’t we just get all of the information on a single page?), I suggest you look this one over. Again, though, I hate slideshows. Let me make that point crystal clear.

• This being the 43rd annual celebration of Earth Day, you should look over Janet Rudolph’s list of environment-related mysteries, as well as her updated rundown of “reservoir noir” (“books that deal with intentional flooding of towns and villages because of building dams and reservoirs for water supply, irrigation, power, and other reasons ...”).

• Finally, my old college friend, Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist Matt Wuerker, has a new page up in Politico devoted to his “most environmentally inspired cartoons.”

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Safe “Harbor”

Among the works honored during last night’s presentation of the 2012 Los Angeles Times Book Prizes was Tana French’s Broken Harbor (Viking), which triumphed in the Mystery/Thriller category. This announcement was made during a public ceremony at the University of Southern California’s Bovard Auditorium.

Broken Harbor’s competitors for this commendation were: Angelmaker, by Nick Harkaway (Knopf); The Thief, by Fuminori Nakamura (Soho Crime); The Expats, by Chris Pavone (Crown); and The Twenty-Year Death, by Ariel S. Winter (Hard Case Crime).

The complete list of L.A. Times Book Prize winners is here, with the rundown of this year’s finalists to be found here.

Friday, April 19, 2013

When a Lovely Flame Dies

(Editor’s note: In the following essay, Quebec resident Jim Napier--a contributor to The Rap Sheet and January Magazine, as well as the author of the Web site Deadly Diversions--looks back at one of the 20th century’s greatest femme fatale novels, a work The New York Times called “a top-drawer mystery.”)

The 1930s and ’40s are deservedly known as the Golden Age of American crime fiction, marked by the appearance of such memorable classics as Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon, Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye, and James M. Cain’s The Postman Always Rings Twice. In this august company belongs another writer--refreshingly, a woman. Her name was Vera Caspary, and although she authored many crime novels, one of her works stands out as a classic, and was translated into an equally timeless film. That novel is Laura, and 70 years after it first appeared in book form, it was reissued not long ago by Vintage Books UK. Certain to be remembered by readers of a certain age, it deserves to be discovered by current generations of crime fiction fans.

New York City, 1942. A young woman lies dead in the doorway of a fashionable apartment on the Upper East Side. She has been brutally murdered, shotgunned in the face at point-blank range. Laura Hunt had carved out a promising career in a major advertising agency. She is mourned by her maid, her aunt, her fiancée, and a well-known newspaper columnist.

Assigned to investigate the death is NYPD detective Mark McPherson. A rough diamond still recovering from a well-publicized shoot-out with a local thug, even he comes under Laura’s spell as he struggles to form a picture of the stylish, worldly woman, and figure out who would want to kill her--and why.

By all admissions Laura was well-liked, even admired. Her inner circle of friends and relatives included her fiancée, Shelby Carpenter, a co-worker at the advertising agency and a Southern gigolo with aspirations of grandeur. But Laura had also come under the influence of Waldo Lydecker, an influential columnist and dandy, who took a proprietary, even controlling, interest in her life.

Set against the sophisticated backdrop of New York’s beautify people, and told from multiple points of view, Laura is the story of a ravishing enigma, her besotted mentor with an ego the size of Manhattan, a Kentucky gentleman who isn’t quite what he seems, and a blue-collar cop clearly out of his element, who increasingly comes under her spell.

At 170 pages long, Laura is a slim little book, its modest size eloquent testimony to the principle that size doesn’t always matter. One of the many strengths of the book is Vera Caspary’s dry narrative tone. When Detective MacPherson tries to get a handle on the victim, he asks:
“You knew her, Mr. Lydecker. Tell me, what kind of dame was she, anyway?”

“She was not the sort of woman you call a dame.”
Caspary also adroitly used what are essentially cinematic effects, clearly done in a bid for the movie version that would come. For example, when Laura’s aunt enters the room Caspary writes:
“In the mirror’s gilt frame Mark saw the reflection of an advancing figure. She was small, robed in deepest mourning and carrying under her right arm a Pomeranian whose auburn coat matched her own bright hair. As she paused in the door with the marble statues and bronze figurines behind her, the gold frame giving margins to the portrait, she was like a picture done by one of Sargent’s imitators who had failed to carry over to the twentieth century the dignity of the nineteenth ...”
We don’t get much of that sort of florid, informed writing today,
to our loss.

Originally published as a seven-part serial in Collier’s magazine, Laura was Vera Caspary’s fourth novel. She went on to write a total of two dozen crime tales, as well as three stage plays and a non-fiction work before her death in 1987. But none of her other works achieved the attention and praise of Laura; and none so closely paralleled Caspary’s own previous career in advertising.

With clues, red herrings, and misdirection, Laura is a classic puzzle mystery of its day. But it is also that rarest of contemporary phenomena, a literate, even erudite plot-driven tale that actually engages readers and challenges them to keep up. Laura is, in short, a timeless classic, waiting to be discovered, and savored, by a new generation of readers.

* * *

American readers interested in obtaining a copy of Laura might seek out The Feminist Press’ 2005 paperback edition. And film fans on both sides of the Atlantic can sample the trailer from director Otto Preminger’s 1944 big-screen adaptation of Caspary’s story here. Two fine, older covers of Laura can be enjoyed here.

READ MORE:Laura (1944),” by Jake Hinkson (The Night Editor).

A Spy by Any Other Name ...

How might crime-fiction history have been different had British author Ian Fleming followed through on supplying his super spy with a substitute surname? From the Yahoo! Movies site:
James Bond is the most iconic name in British fiction, but the British spy had an alternative name--James Secretan.

A newly unearthed manuscript for Ian Fleming’s 1952 draft of the first Bond novel,
Casino Royale, reveals the surprising moniker.

In the text, a CIA Agent meets 007 and says: “My name's Felix Leiter. Glad to meet you.” Bond replies: “Mine's Secretan. James Secretan.”

Fleming then changed his mind, because ‘Secretan’ was crossed out and replaced with ‘Bond.’

It seems Fleming’s original idea was that 007 would have a real name--Bond--and a cover name for when he was on spy duties--Secretan.

The manuscript has been released to coincide with the books 60th anniversary.
You’ll find the full piece here.

You Go, Hugh!

Happy birthday to American actor Hugh O’Brian. The former star of The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp (1955-1961) and Search (1972-1973)--who married for the first time just seven years ago--turns 88 years old today. In other words, he has already outlasted the real-life lawman, Earp, by eight years.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Championing Canadian Crime

I wasn’t anticipating the need to report this news tonight, but the Crime Writers of Canada organization has just announced its shortlist of nominees for the 2013 Arthur Ellis Awards.

Best First Novel:
The Beggar’s Opera, by Peggy Blair (Penguin Canada)
Confined Space, by Deryn Collier (Simon & Schuster)
The Dead of Winter, by Peter Kirby (Linda Leith)
A Private Man, by Chris Laing (Seraphim)
The Haunting of Maddy Clare, by Simone St. James (NAL)

Best Novel:
Trust Your Eyes, by Linwood Barclay (Doubleday Canada)
Until the Night, by Giles Blunt (Random House Canada)
The Trinity Game, by Sean Chercover (Thomas & Mercer)
The Messenger, by Stephen Miller (Delacorte Press)
Niceville, by Carsten Stroud (Knopf)

Best Novella:
Contingency Plan, by Lou Allin (Orca Rapid Reads)
A Winter Kill, by Vicki Delany (Orca Rapid Reads)
Evil Behind that Door, by Barbara Fradkin (Orca Rapid Reads)
Reunion, by Christopher G. Moore (from Phnom Penh Noir, edited by Christopher G. Moore; Heaven Lake Press)

Best Short Story:
“Life without George,” by Melodie Campbell
(Over My Dead Body!, August 2012)
“Sins of the Fathers,” by Sandy Conrad
(from Daughters and Other Strangers, The Brucedale Press)
“Cruel Coast,” by Scott MacKay
(Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, July 2012)
“Mad Dog,” Jas R. Petrin
(Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, October 2012)
“Spring-blade Knife,” by Yasuko Thanh
(from Floating Like the Dead, McClelland & Stewart)

Best Non-fiction:
Bloody Justice: The Truth behind the Bandidos Massacre at Shedden, by Anita Arvast (John Wiley)
Octopus: Sam Israel, the Secret Market, and Wall Street’s Wildest Con, by Guy Lawson (Crown/Random House)
The Devil’s Cinema: The Untold Story behind Mark Twitchell’s Kill Room, by Steve Lillebuen (McClelland & Stewart)
Thieves of Bay Street: How Banks, Brokerages and the Wealthy Steal Billions from Canadians, by Bruce Livesey (Random House Canada)

Best Juvenile/Young Adult:
Live to Tell, by Lisa Harrington (Cormorant Books)
The Agency: The Traitor in the Tunnel, by Y.S. Lee (Candlewick Press)
Crush Candy Corpse, by Sylvia McNicoll (James Lorimer)
Becoming Holmes, by Shane Peacock (Tundra)
The Lynching of Louie Sam, by Elizabeth Stewart (Annick Press)

Best Crime Book in French:
La Nuit des albinos: Sur les traces de Max O’Brien, by Mario Bolduc (Libre Expression)
De pierres et de sang, by André Jacques (Druide)
L’homme du jeudi, by Jean Lemieux (La courte échelle)
Je me souviens, by Martin Michaud (Goélette)
L’inaveu, by Richard Ste Marie (Alire)

Best Unpublished First Crime Novel (“The Unhanged Arthur”):
Cold Black Tide, by William Hall
The Raffle Baby, by Ilonka Halsband
Sins Revisited, by Coleen Steele

The winners of these commendations will be named on May 30 during a ceremony at the Arts & Letters Club in Toronto.

Pierce’s Picks: “Good People”

A weekly alert for followers of crime, mystery, and thriller fiction.

Good People, by Ewart Hutton (Minotaur):
Scottish-born author and radio playwright Hutton has already moved on to publicizing his second novel, Dead People, in Great Britain. But that book’s predecessor, Good People--the opening number in a series about Welsh Detective Sergeant Glyn Capaldi, released in the UK last year--has only just now become available in the States. It finds Capaldi paying a heavy price for having screwed up an investigation: He’s transferred from his country’s capital, Cardiff, to “the big bit in the middle [of Wales] that God gave to the sheep.” It’s supposed to be a quiet posting, one that should give Capaldi time to rehabilitate his reputation. But this copper, who now calls a desolate trailer home, cannot seem to stay out of trouble. He dives into the irregular case of a minibus that went missing one Saturday night, filled with sports fans, after leaving a rugby match. The minibus is subsequently found abandoned, with no evidence of its six former male passengers. It doesn’t take long, though, for those men to surface, after spending a night in a backwoods shack. Well, at least most of them are heard from; one remains at large. His erstwhile compatriots claim that he went off with a woman hitchhiker (actually, a prostitute) they’d collected at a service station. For the locals, this explanation seems satisfactory. However, Capaldi is unconvinced, and digs further into the mystery, upsetting his superiors. The more pushback he receives, the more Capaldi wants to know what really happened--an effort that pulls back the covers on some rural skeletons nobody really wanted revealed. This is an atmospherically rich and sometimes amusing yarn, and if it’s not a perfect book, it’s still a promising start to Hutton’s series.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Bullet Points: Midweek Miscellany

• I want Michael Shonk’s job! The Mystery*File columnist writes with fair regularity about classic and forgotten TV dramas, usually related in some manner to crime fiction (Search, The Brothers Brannagan, The Outsider, etc.). His latest piece looks at Paris 7000, a short-lived 1970 ABC-TV series starring George Hamilton as “a diplomat working at the American embassy in Paris. Any American in trouble would call the embassy’s phone number, Paris 7000, and Brennan would come to their aid.” I have to admit, I don’t remember ever seeing this show, and certainly not during its original broadcasting. But as Shonk makes pretty clear, I haven’t missed much.

• Several years ago, I read and enjoyed The Double Take, a 1946 detective novel by future TV writer and producer Roy Huggins. Ever since, I’ve been looking out for copies of Huggins’ only other two novels, Too Late For Tears (1949) and Lovely Lady, Pity Me (1949). It seems fellow blogger Evan Lewis has beaten me to the last one, at least. His review of Lovely Lady, Pity Me can be found here.

• It never hurts to be reminded of Sleuth.

• I have long been a fan of the classic science-fiction novels Childhood’s End (1953), by Arthur C. Clarke, and Ringworld (1970), by Larry Niven. So you can imagine my consternation at hearing the news that both are to be adapted as mini-series by the SyFy Channel. Really, television very rarely gets these things right.

• The Los Angeles Times alerts me to another novel that might be of particular interest to crime-fiction fans: Lillian and Dash, by Sam Toperoff, due out in July from Other Press. Here’s how the Times’ Carolyn Kellogg describes the book’s plot: “Opinionated author Lillian Hellman and noir master Dashiell Hammett were a famously hard-drinking couple who never married. This is a novel that reimagines their relationship (which Hellman wrote about in her memoirs) with a strong dose of Golden Age romanticism.” OK, sign me up for a copy, guys.

• In case you need reminding of just why Dashiell Hammett was “one of the most influential writers of his time,” Terrie Farley Moran provides this essay in Criminal Element.

• From that same Web site comes a rundown of the winners in the mystery- and thriller-related categories of this year’s Reviewers’ Choice Best Books Awards, sponsored by Romantic Times magazine.

• After the lackluster mess AMC-TV made of The Killing--the U.S. version of the popular Danish show Forbrydelsen--I’m not sure I want to take a chance on another Danish crime-drama adaptation. But Euro Crime reports that “A&E are making their own version of the now cancelled Danish series Those Who Kill. It will star Chloe Sevigny and James D’Arcy ...” The show will run 10 episodes and debut in 2014.

• Meanwhile, Salon extols the virtues of the Danish political drama Borgen. Each episode, writes critic Andrew O’Hehir, “begins with a quotation from Machiavelli’s The Prince, and as the show proceeds, Denmark’s first female prime minister, an attractive and immensely likable moderate named Birgitte Nyborg (Sidse Babett Knudsen), gets a systematic education in that collection of cynical wisdom. One could almost say that Borgen is a lesson built on the old saw about power corrupting and absolute power corrupting absolutely--but Birgitte is the head of a shaky coalition government in a European social democracy, not a tyrant, and what keeps us watching is the knowledge that she always has good intentions.”

• How many of these “Best Crime Novels of 1939 have you read?

• The first issue of Mystery Readers Journal for 2013 is just out, with a focus on environmental mysteries. Editor Janet Rudolph writes that she “can't believe we’re in our 29th year of publication!” That’s quite a track record. Congratulations!

• Just as news comes of major discoveries about the shape and features of Roman London, author Jeri Westerson launches a new “One Minute History” feature in her blog, her initial subject being that city’s 1st century A.D. beginnings.

• Which leads right into news that Oleander Press is bringing back lost crime novels of the Golden Age, all their stories set in London.

R.I.P., GoldenEye’s Michael France.

• And for anybody who’s been huddled under a boulder somewhere and managed to miss this announcement elsewhere, the title of William Boyd’s soon-forthcoming James Bond novel--set in both Africa and the United States--will be Solo. The book is presently scheduled for release by Jonathan Cape in the UK on September 26, and by HarperCollins in the States on October 8.

Did You Win “The Perfect Ghost”?

Last week The Rap Sheet announced the start of ts latest book-giveaway contest. The prizes: four copies of Linda Barnes’ brand-new standalone novel, The Perfect Ghost (Minotaur). Dozens and dozens of entries poured in. And today, through a process of random selection, we have our winners. They are:

Gregory McCambley of Ottawa, Ontario
Joyce Delaney of Bayville, New Jersey
Karen Willett of Scottsdale, Arizona
David Middleton of Dartmouth, Nova Scotia

Barnes’ publisher has promised to dispatch copies of The Perfect Ghost directly to our winners, so all four of these people should keep close watch on their mailboxes.

And if you didn’t win? Well, you should have learned by now that The Rap Sheet is fond of these book drawings, so another one will be coming down the pike soon. Better luck next time.

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

What’s a Little Crime Between Neighbors?

As part of my research into the subject of Canadian crime fiction--conducted for the purpose of writing a two-part feature for Kirkus Reviews--I had the opportunity to interview Marilyn Rose, a professor in the Department of English at Ontario’s Brock University. With Jeannette Sloniowski, an associate professor in Brock’s Department of Communication, Popular Culture and Film, Rose has created the online database CrimeFictionCanada, a scholarly resource dedicated to the study of detective fiction in English. Rose and Sloniowski are also co-editors of the book Detecting Canada: Essays on Canadian Detective Fiction, Film, and Television, which is due out in July from Wilfrid Laurier University Press.

Rose was kind enough to answer my questions, via e-mail, about Canada’s crime-fiction-writing history, the trouble Canadian mystery authors often encounter in making their work better known to American readers, and her favorite current north-of-the-border contributors to this genre.

J. Kingston Pierce: Can you pin down for me the names of the first couple of Canadian crime writers, who they were and what/when they wrote? And how long a history does this genre have in Canada?

Marilyn Rose: Jeannette Sloniowski and I are co-editing a collection of essays on Canadian crime writing ... called Detecting Canada. In it, there is an essay by David Skene-Melvin that deals with the history of Canadian crime fiction, which he divides into ... five periods: from the earliest begetters to 1880; 1880-1920; 1920-1940; 1940-1980; and 1980 to the present. He states that the decade 1970-1980 is one of transition in which the genre, as a truly Canadian expression of national consciousness, begins to emerge full bore.

Skene-Melvin argues that the Canadian crime-writing tradition begins with broadsides published in 1783 and 1785, which recorded speeches and confessions of convicted criminals about to be hanged for murder and theft. He notes, however, that the earliest English-Canadian crime novel per se was Walter BatesThe Mysterious Stranger, which was published in the United States and in England in 1817. He notes that Bates was the Loyalist sheriff of King’s County in New Brunswick who bases the novel on the real-life story of Henry More Smith, alias “Henry Moon,” a notorious horse-thief, confidence man, and jail-breaker in the community at the time. He says that “the best candidate” for first French-Canadian crime novel was probably L’influence d’un livre (The Influence of a Book), by Phillipe-Ignace-François Aubert de Gaspé, published in Quebec City in 1837.

Skene-Melvin then traces the history of Canadian crime writing--which is remarkably full by his account--focusing particularly on the emergence, between 1880 and 1920, of what he calls “the Northern”--crime stories that deal with the Canadian West and particularly the North-West Mounted Police (which evolved into the RCMP, or “Mounties”). Many of these novels celebrated Canadian landscapes, particularly wilderness settings, as well as referencing specific historical events, such as the Riel Rebellion of 1885 in Manitoba and the Klondike Gold Rush in the Yukon in 1897-1899. Such novels of mystery and adventure were popular in Canada as the Canadian West was opened and settled, and they played into romantic attitudes towards the vast and unknown western landscapes that were held by the settled easterners in Canada, who had heard about but not seen such places and events.

The popularity of the “Mountie” subgenre makes sense, Skene-Melvin argues, since there wasn’t much of a “wild west” in Canadian settlement history. As many others have pointed out, civilian settlement of the Canadian West was preceded by the presence of the Canadian Mounted Police (not to mention banks and churches!) under the national banner of “peace, order, and good government.” This is a very different mantra than that of the United States, with its reference to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

By the 1940s many Canadian crime writers were turning to the cities and to the kinds of crime fiction already popular in the United States and Britain, from village or drawing-room mysteries to stories set in well-established and flourishing Canadian cities such as Vancouver, Montreal, and Toronto. By the time of the final two decades of the 20th-century there is a great deal of Canadian crime fiction in circulation and it reflects the many subgenres that appear elsewhere--the United States, the UK, Australia, Europe, and so on.

There is certainly an abundance of contemporary Canadian crime fiction available for American readers to sample. As Jeannette and I note in our introduction to Detecting Canada, there are Canadian “cozies,” police procedurals, “noirs,” and so on. Themes vary widely and reflect contemporary interests. There are works of detection reflecting ethnicity, gender, class, and demographic divides such as the urban, suburban and rural, and political issues of all kinds, including Canadian-American relations. Canadian crime fiction is exceptionally diverse, as is the country itself--which includes substantial aboriginal and immigrant populations, the existence of provinces and territories with separate and powerful governments and statutes, and regional formations with their own habits and identities, all of which are reflected in detective stories of one kind or another. It is the heterogeneity of the crime-fiction genre in dealing with such national diversity that is noteworthy.

We invite you to look into our database called CrimeFictionCanada and to “play with” our list of Canadian crime novels. You can search our lists by author, or book title, or by keywords. In doing so I think you will be amazed at the breadth and variety of Canadian writing that exists, much of it produced within the last 20 years or so. Whatever your interest, you will be able to find examples of novels that fit your profile. ... [R]eaders might be interested in this searchable database as a source of information and for leads in terms of finding new writers and series that might be right up their alley.

JKP: Is the tradition of writing crime fiction in Canada as long and strong among French-speaking writers as it is among English speakers?

MR: There is a long tradition of crime writing in French, but this is not an area of expertise for me. My understanding is that much of French-Canadian crime fiction is in the tradition of the French policier, but I can’t speak authoritatively about this. I would say there is less French-Canadian crime fiction, and fewer sales, than in English Canada, but that has to do with the relative size of Anglophone and Francophone reading populations here (there are substantial numbers of Francophone readers in Quebec, New Brunswick, and parts of Manitoba, I believe, but few elsewhere) and with the access that Anglophone Canadian writers have to readers in the United States and the rest of the English-speaking world, at least potentially.

JKP: It seems that U.S. readers are familiar with some writers they don’t even realize are Canadian--Linwood Barclay, Louise Penny, Alan Bradley, etc.-- but are pretty ignorant about the vast majority of Canadian authors working in this genre. Why do think that’s the case?

MR: It’s a matter of awareness, of course. It is hard for Canadian writers to penetrate the sphere of “readerly knowledge” that characterizes American readers of this genre. American media focus on American writers, of course, and only rarely does someone like Marilyn Stasio, of The New York Times, review Canadian crime fiction at all--though it is always exciting to us when she does. And then there is the fact that reviewing of books in newspapers and magazines has itself declined with the reduction in number of book review sections in these publications. Literary “buzz” now seems to depend much more on reader-to-reader connections, especially in the social media. And then there is the David and Goliath or elephant-and-mouse issue. Canada is a very small nation and market compared to that of the United States. There is so much American crime fiction produced and consumed in the U.S.--and so much of it is good and well-publicized.

In addition, however, there is, perhaps, the “exotic” factor. American audiences do tend to be attracted to stories set in faraway places, we are told--but Canada, which is not well-known by Americans, generally speaking, may not strike American readers as particularly exotic. It seems to be seen as a rather more rustic, ice-and-snow version of the United States, though with a decidedly more leftist bent. This monochromatic version of a hugely diverse nation to the north may not have intrinsic appeal to American readers--until they sample it through fiction. Certainly publishers in the past have tended not to be confident that they can drum up interest in Canadian-set stories in the American marketplace: we are told that Canadian writers are often advised to neutralize or obscure their Canadian settings in order to appeal to American audiences.

However, times may be changing in this regard. I participate in many electronic networks where crime fiction is discussed in the United States and Britain, including the redoubtable Dorothy-L forum ... From this vantage point I see three trends that may help Canadian crime fiction to achieve better traction with American readers.

The first is that there is at present quite an interest in the United States in settings other than America. The popularity of Scandinavian fiction in recent years is evidence of this, as is the interest in Italian-set fiction, such as that of Donna Leon, or Scottish fiction, like that of Ian Rankin.

The second is that when readers of crime, mystery, or detective fiction congregate (whether on such lists or through blogs or the like, or at the huge mystery conferences that take place in the United States and Britain these days), it is evident that subgenres and specialties all have their fans and those readers are very interested in extending their outreach to novels in English from all over the world. I am thinking of those interested in village mysteries (like those of Louise Penny), or police procedurals (like those of Giles Blunt and Peter Robinson), or noirs (like the cross-border novels of Howard Shrier), or gay crime fiction (such as that of Anthony Bidulka). Just this week there was a request by someone on Dorothy-L for the names of crime novels featuring rivers, and writers from Canada, like Barbara Fradkin, were able to mention their own novels, involving settings on Canadian rivers, as examples that this reader might want to access.

And this is my third point: More and more readers are relying on social media for information about writers who might fulfill their personal interest criteria when it comes to crime fiction. I am interested in police procedurals that are serial, with continuing characters whose families and relationships evolve over time. I have read Canadian writers of this stripe, such as Peter Robinson. But thanks to electronic lists, blogs, online reviews, and Twitter feeds I have discovered and read my way through writers like Donna Leon (Venice), Deborah Crombie (American but sets her novels in London), and Susan Hill (England). For American writers, this kind of online connectedness will lead to the discovery of many excellent Canadian writers whose works conform to their preferences. Some readers, I know, read mainly for place. When traveling or for other reasons, they like to read mysteries reflecting that travel destination. One of the reasons why we were determined to make our Canadian crime novels lists on our CrimeFictionCanada Web site searchable by keyword is so that “place readers” can find novels set in spots they are interested in--whether in Canada or elsewhere (since Canadian crime writers do not set their work only in Canada).

In completing this point about social media, I want to note also how many Canadian writers are tweeting and “following” all over the ’Net these days, and participating in discussion lists of various kinds. They are getting their own word out in broader ways than any (even the most expensive) literary tour could manage to do.

JKP: Is there something about the type of story Canadian crime novelists are prone to tell that American readers don’t respond to?

MR: I’m not sure whether there is anything all that different about Canadian crime writing in terms of story “types” than is found elsewhere. We have feminist fiction, gay fiction, aboriginal fiction, small-town fiction, big-city fiction, and so on. Some of the themes might have slightly less pull for American writers--or American readers might assume, at least, that what they see as a categorically liberal nation to the north will produce something “softer” than the kind of writing they are used to. One of the examples of this actually being the case is the so-called soft-boiled crime fiction of Howard Engel, whose detective, Benny Cooperman, is the antithesis of gun-toting hard-boiled American P.I.s. Engel goes in for humor as much as noir thrills. However, for the most part, the characters you meet in Canadian crime fiction live in somewhat different settings, and cultural details vary, especially from region to region. But this ought to be a plus rather than a negative for American readers. Who doesn’t want to learn about new places and mores when reading? (It certainly works for Scandinavian writers, these days.)

So I think it is more a matter of many American readers simply not knowing the richness of crime writing that exists “up here.” Awareness is all. And that is why the proliferation of information via social media and other electronic means is so important. (As is our book, I hope--the first full-length book on Canadian crime writing ever.)

JKP: Is part of the reason Americans aren’t exposed to more Canadian crime fiction that U.S. publishers are reticent to take on Canadian crime writers, or that the writers themselves aren’t trying hard enough to break into the American market?

MR: I don’t know enough about the American publishing market to answer this. I think U.S. publishers respond to proven U.S. demand. There probably hasn’t been enough of demand for Canadian-produced crime fiction demonstrated in the past, but that may change. Electronic media have a way of erasing national boundaries in ways that hard-copy publishers would have difficulty managing. It is as if reading is beginning to evolve into “literature without borders.”

As for Canadian writers, I see quite a few cropping up on own Twitter account, which has been in existence only a very short time (#detectingcanada), so I know that a number of them are working hard to keep their names and works in the forefront. I also see these writers actively participating in Listservs and responding to blogs both national and international, wherever detective fiction readers congregate. We have to remember that writers only have so much time to self-promote: in a sense, their careers are only as strong as the sales of their next book, and they have to have writing time and the free time that feeds the creative juices in order to keep up their momentum. They have only so much touring time and self-promotion-on-the-Web time. I have a hard time seeing the writers are being responsible for their own lack of profile, if they are not prominent enough. And on the publishers’ side, it doesn’t help that publishing budgets are continually shrinking, which has an obvious effect on how much promotion they can do.

JKP: Finally, if you had to name the five (or more) authors you think best represent the quality of modern Canadian crime-fiction writing, who would they be?

MR: Among the best, in my view, are:

Peter Robinson, Canadian though Yorkshire-born, [who] sets his police procedurals in fictional Yorkshire Dales. His Inspector [Alan] Banks is an appealing, evolving character and the stories are intelligent and very well-written--cracking good mysteries, full of local detail, which have been used as the basis for a successful television series in Britain, now into its second season.

Maureen Jennings, whose police procedurals are set in Toronto in the late 1880s, before the era of modern scientific police forces. Her detective, William Murdoch, struggles with his Catholic background in Protestant Toronto and also with a police force skeptical of his interest in the newly created sciences of fingerprinting and ballistics. The seven Murdoch novels have been adapted not only as made-for-TV movies but also as a popular Canadian television series, Murdoch Mysteries (2008-present).

Louise Penny, whose charming mysteries are set in “Three Pines” in the Eastern Townships in Quebec, featuring Inspector Chief Inspector [Armand] Gamache. The Beautiful Mystery has received wonderful reviews in Canada and the United States, but really all of her novels are marked by great elegance and intelligence as well as by considerable empathy for human complexity and the human condition.

Giles Blunt, who spent some years as a film writer in New York City, I believe, and whose experience with dramatic and visual representation spills over into his novels. His John Cardinal novels are set in Algonquin Bay, which is very similar to North Bay, Ontario, where he grew up. His police procedurals that take on a number of contemporary political issues. The first Cardinal novel, Forty Words for Sorrow, won the British Crime Writers’ Silver Dagger Award, and the second, The Delicate Storm, won the Crime Writers of Canada Arthur Ellis Award for Best Novel. He has been twice longlisted for the Dublin IMPAC Award.

Barbara Fradkin is a retired psychologist and multiple award-winning mystery author whose Inspector [Michael] Green novels are compelling. The Ottawa Citizen once said that “Fradkin’s forte is the emotional cost of crime” and I think that this captures something of her appeal and her excellence.

READ MORE: Canada’s Crime Novelists: Making a Killing,” by Greg Quill (Toronto Star).

Maple Leaf Rage



(Editor’s note: My column today for Kirkus Reviews looks at the quite remarkable breadth of crime and mystery fiction coming out of Canada, but also notes that many of those books and authors are largely unknown, especially to Americans. During my research for the piece, I asked Kevin Burton Smith, the Montreal-born editor of The Thrilling Detective Web Site, for his thoughts on why crime fiction from north of the border does not receive more attention from U.S. readers. His entertaining response is posted below.)

Why should the mystery genre be any different than anything else? There are probably more Americans who believe President Obama was a Communist sleeper agent born in Kenya than can name the current Canadian prime minister.

Of course, there are business reasons, copyright reasons, foreign rights, retail, and distribution and blah blah blah.

But culturally, historically, even geographically, Americans tend to not pay much attention to their northern neighbor, anyway. Canada is just a small blip in the perpetually inward-looking American consciousness. Foreign countries just don’t cut it, unless there’s a hook. Like, oh, a current war, or it’s a tourist destination that’s somehow safely familiar yet exotic.

But not too exotic. Good God, no ...

I remember as a kid, watching U.S. news broadcasts beaming through from Burlington and Plattsburgh, and being dismayed to see absolutely no land mass above the border on the weather maps. As though Vermont’s northern boundary was defined by the Atlantic Ocean. We didn’t even rate a few squiggles to denote our existence on a weather map.

Still, I was left momentarily speechless when an American (a schoolteacher, no less), upon being informed that I had just moved to Southern California from Montreal, asked me--in all sincerity and without a speck of irony--“Wow! Were you a long time on the boat?”

The boat? Evidently all American TV news shows use the same maps ...

So we’ve pretty much accepted that to many Americans we’re just the Great White Yawn. Vancouver is “pretty.” Toronto is “clean and safe.” And everywhere else in Canada is just a trivia question in a game that most Americans don't want to play.

In the buffet of the Americas, we’re the other white meat.

A land of Peter Jennings impersonators, suspiciously polite but not dangerous.

And the differences are more annoying to many Americans than exotic or colorful. Or colourful. Like, “What’s a Harvey’s? Why can’t we just go to a Burger King?”

Who is this Tim Horton guy?

And what’s a Canadian Tire?

England is exotic, because they talk funny there and they drive on the wrong side of the road. Australia has shrimp on the barbie. And kangaroos. The French are, well, they’re the French. Mexico and Central America are full of drug cartels and guys with fierce mustaches, and Russia is packed with double agents, KGB gangsters, and vodka-slurping pole dancers.

But to Americans there’s nothing particularly different about Canada. A slight accent when the word “about” is pronounced, maybe, and the perception that the Mounties (“the Canadian FBI”) wear goofy park ranger hats and bright red coats. All that makes us more “quaint” than interesting.

Canada’s too similar--at least to American eyes--to be exotic. Americans constantly tell me how Canadians are “just like Americans.” Except maybe for the French, but then--as many an American has told me--French Canadians aren’t really French.

But I can assure you that you’ll find very few Canadians (barring a few unrepentant separatists) who think Americans are “just like Canadians.”

You get into crime fiction, and the problem is amplified. Canada is viewed by Americans as “safe.” As in boring. There’s not enough crime up north to matter, never mind read about, fictional or otherwise. Although these same prejudices don’t seem to stop Americans from tuning into the weekly goings-on in Midsomer Murders, set in a small English village seemingly populated entirely by slightly kinky killers, murderers, serial rapists, and tea-drinking, tweedy victims-in-waiting. The place makes Jessica Fletcher’s Cabot Cove look like Sesame Street.

And our respective national myths play into it, as well.

Americans have this massive screeching vicious bird of prey as their national mascot. Canada has a beaver that, like, chews wood.

Americans tend to believe in truth, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and all those other things Superman says. Plus blasting the head off anyone who gets in their way. Canadians hope for happiness, too, but most expect they’ll have to work hard for it. And we don’t really believe in violence except as a last resort. Or if hockey is involved.

The Canadian constitution suggests “peace, order, and good government” as the way to go, and while it hasn’t always been the case, I think the Canadian national psyche wants to believe it’s possible. Americans? In the 10 years I’ve been here, approximately half the population has always believed the other half of the population (and whoever’s in power in the White House) are coming for them. And have armed themselves accordingly ...

Americans had a Civil War and killed each other for five long years simply to iron out some constitutional wrinkles. Canadians deal with the same kind of issues that tear at the very fabric of our national existence by arguing and debating. Endlessly. It’s been going on for almost 150 years now. Granted, it’s a slower process, but it doesn’t seem to leave as many dead people lying around with their legs blown off.

So, no matter what the body count may be, the notion of Canada as a crime-filled cesspool of corruption and violence is a hard sell to Americans. It’s like sending coal to Newcastle. I mean, the United States is a country where the leads always bleed and murder and mayhem are accorded instant celebrity status, flashy TV graphics, and one-name recognition, like Cher or Liberace. You say Columbine, Waco, and Newtown, and the entire world gets “it.”

Now that’s name recognition.

The Canadian version? 1989’s École-Polytechnique massacre. But that incident in Montreal doesn’t even ring a bell for most Americans. Probably more recall the fictional version used as the basis for a Law & Order episode, in which the mass killing was--of course--reset in New York City. It’s just easier for Americans to believe that that kind of stuff happens at home; not in good old safe, quiet, and boring Canada. Statistics, of course, bear me out.

Which may explain why Canadian-set hard-boiled crime fiction, in particular, is a difficult sell to Americans. Notice that most of the Canadian crime writers who are successful in the States eschew Canadian settings (Linwood Barclay, Alan Bradley, and Peter Robinson, for example), go globetrotting (Hilary Davidson, Ian Hamilton, and Anthony Bidulka) or, if they do set their stories at home, operate in a more traditional, almost classical (and sometimes downright cozy) mystery vein (like Howard Engel or Louise Penny). Hell, Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple could move right into Penny’s quaint little Québécois village, Three Pines, and feel right at home. She and Inspector Gamache could have a nice cuppa and compare notes.

I remember a mystery-writing friend from Montreal, Carol Epstein, once confiding how her publishers insisted she set her new proposed mystery series “anywhere but in Canada” if she hoped to sell it south of the border. That was years ago, but to a large extent it’s still true.

Americans just don’t think of Canadians as twisted and violent and nasty as they are.

Which is a good thing. It’s all part of our plan ...