Does crime writing
serve a useful purpose?
The most obvious purposes
are to entertain and allow escapism from daily life. This much crime fiction
has in common with all forms of writing, and there’s nothing wrong in being entertained
or escaping for a while. Traditionally, the entertainment in a crime novel is often in the form
of a puzzle; the reader is egged on by the author’s clever placement of clues
and red herrings, in which the creator and reader try to outwit each other.
Solving the mystery of who-dun-it is a great pleasure and can engender a sense
of triumph in the reader.
What can crime
writing do that other genres can’t or at least don’t do as a rule?
I can think of
several purposes.
A popular and longstanding view is
that crime fiction reassures us – usually ! – that truth and justice will prevail
whatever evil stalks the world. Somehow, when all seems lost, a decent person
will put things to rights and see that justice is done. Such has been the case
since the time of Wilkie Collins’ The
Woman in White, often regarded as the first detective novel. It isn’t a
universal rule: sometimes justice fails, but rarely. Sometimes the individual
must invoke justice when the system itself fails. In the process the hero will
go through hell and only just escape horrible consequences. Think of Philip
Marlowe. As Raymond Chandler said, ‘But down these mean streets a man must go
who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.’ (The Simple Art of Murder, 1950).
At the same time this has the purpose of bringing order out of the chaos: ‘the reassurance that we live in a comprehensible and moral universe and that, although we may not achieve justice, we can at least achieve an explanation and a solution.’ (PD James, Time To be In Earnest, 1999)
Crime fiction also
appeals because it allows the author to explore the dark side of human nature.
Indeed much of modern crime writing is devoted to unravelling the why-dun-it
rather than the who-dun-it. The author asks what on earth led this person to
committee these atrocious crimes? And sometimes the answer is uncomfortable –
the reader may think: well, in similar circumstances I might have been tempted
too or I might have committed murder too. A sort of ‘there-but-for-the
grace-of-God-go-I’ moment. In such stories the identify of the villain might be
known early in the story and the enjoyment lies in watching him or her be found
out. The reader may well develop sympathies with the villain – and so, to a
degree, may the detective. Think Morse or Lynley.
Ian Rankin notes another purpose: that readers ‘learn how to deal with fear and the unknown.’
I think also that
crime writing helps us deal with the reality of death, because death – usually
sudden, unexpected and violent – is the common thread linking crime writing.
The genre helps us understand and cope with mortality better.
Crime fiction is
also excellent at exploring the world as it really is. The subject matter of
crime novels constantly evolves to explore contemporary issues. The Woman in White explored married
women’s property rights at a time they had none. Conan Doyle explored an
England growing increasingly industrial and urban and a London that was as
socially divided as it was expanding rapidly, allowing the intrusion of
organised crime. Today’s writers explore topics such as child abuse, refugees, people
smuggling, racism, alienation, homelessness, mental illness, poverty, drug abuse, terrorism, corruption, social diversity,
organised crime and the explosion in technology. Liam McIlvanney says ‘crime is engaging with
the contemporary world in a way in which literary fiction doesn’t.’ (http://kiwicrime.blogspot.com.au/2010/03/crime-fiction-as-window-on-culture-and.html)
To
take this further, Ian Rankin has noted that
‘People are interested in
crime fiction because they are fascinated by the margins of the world, those
places where society's rules break down.’ (http://www.penguin.com.au/content/66824/extract)
Titillation is
another aspect of crime writing, not to mention schadenfreude – the taking of
pleasure in other people’s misfortunes. These perhaps are not quite such respectable
motives for reading crime fiction.
Finally, I think another
purpose of crime fiction is to give the reader perspective on their own life.
Crime novels remind us that perhaps our own lives are not so bad and that
there’s always someone worse off.
David Kilner
Of all forms of death, murder appears to hold the widest appeal, from Agatha Christie to James Pattinson. Murder is a defining crime and the driver of most fiction. Murder has fascinated us since the advent of the printing press, a fascination which made the transition from books to the screen. Murder fascinates in fiction, more than in fact. Forensic television drags in the numbers every week while writers struggle to invent more intricate and diabolical deaths.
ReplyDeleteThere appears less of the classic whodunnit these days, the old gumshoe following leads, tracing people and deducting Holmes style to come up with the goods. Fewer too are the observational and deductive logic of Ellery Queen or the armchair detectiveness of Nero Wolfe. Yet these are the parents of our modern crime writing providing the style, writing process and core issues we associate with our murder mysteries today.
Crime is a very basic plot device where the writer's embellishments decide if it will sink or swim. Keating produced a catch-all definition of the genre. "… fiction written primarily for its entertainment value which has as its subject some form of crime." He goes on to say that "'crime writing is fiction that puts the reader first, not its writer." Is that a reasonable definition? Modern authors understand the importance of entertaining their readers and develop their murderous intent in order to survive amid the sewerage that is eBooks today. The only certainty is that crime fiction is a catchall euphemism to categorise readers. It is the constant evolution of diabolical murders, the descent into dark mindless cesspools of consciousness that promotes and sustains our desire for murderous voyeurism. Crime fiction means different things to different people at different times. Andrew Taylor when commenting on the phenomena wrote, "We have the howdunnit and the whydunnit, as well as the whodunnit. We can snuggle up with a cosy plotline or exercise our mental digestive system with something hard-boiled.
So what is the attraction? Crime usually places characters under a great deal of stress facing life and death often, their flaws exposed, where survival depends on their investigation, iron will, and their ability to survive extraordinary pain and suffering. An example of this is Lisbeth Salander in the Millennium trilogy. So it must follow that it is the violence and survivability of characters that attracts readers to the crime genre. And as we read with the words leaping from the pages into our minds, how many of us wonder jut how we'd cope under the same circumstances? Murder asks us questions we know we will never answer, yet deep down inside we do thrill at that wonder. That's why crime sells. Crime books sometimes come with a message, not that crime is reprehensible but that there are cracks in the psyche of our society and these fiction characters represent those cracks and reflect the violence in our society and thus force us to root for the good guy and be on the winning side, something that in our lives is not accessible.
The majority of crime books conform to structure, forged by earlier writers who wrote with pen and ink and had to get it right first time. Consider Homer and Socrates had no cut-and-paste facility, no delete or insert keys. Their structure had to be right. It starts with the murder, the investigation, the apprehension and retribution. It's short, sharp, shiny, and it works, hence its global appeal. But is there a link between readers and crime novels? The French Revolution provided spectacular sport and recreation at the guillotine and Romans filled the Colosseum for endless days of death. The book is our portable answer to those events. The truth is we are fascinated by our own mortality, by how inventive writers can be when it comes to dispatching victims, and how smug we feel when it happens to someone in a novel rather than to us. We're talking human nature.