On Saturday 24th February authors and readers with a passion for murder mysteries gathered in a comfortable lecture theatre in the University of Portsmouth’s Eldon Building for the 2024 Mystery Fest.
The day started in a lively manner with Dot Marshall-Gent telling us about three Nursery Rhymes that inspired the titles of seven of Agatha Christie’s works of many nursery rhymes.
The rhymes were Sing a Song of Sixpence, Ten Little Soldiers, and Three Blind Mice. Christie, we were told, loved such rhymes because they took her back to her happy early childhood. In A Pocket Full of Rye, one of the characters comments, with a tinge of regret, that nursery rhymes were going out of fashion. Certainly, Christie managed to encapsulate a lot of the nastiness that was at the heart of many nursery rhymes. A Pocket Full of Rye followed by And Then There Were None are both highly Successful and frequently republished. Dot suggested that these two works closely follow events within the rhymes that inspiredthem. Even so, at least one critic, Robert Barnard, dismissed the rhyme at the centre of A Pocket Full of Rye as “irrelevant” though few readers would agree with him. Three Blind Mice was originally broadcast for King George V’s wife, Queen Mary, to celebrate her eightieth birthday. It was then turned into a novella of the same name, and finally a phenomenally successful three-act play that we know as The Mousetrap. The name change was required because a play called Three Blind Mice had already played in London’s West End. Dot focused on Christie’s use of the nursery rhyme’s well-known tune, which is used repeatedly throughout all three texts,sometimes sung, or softly whistled and, at least once, picked out on a piano. In each case, the short tune is a prelude to murder and a sinister reminder of the killer’s presence in a house cut off by snow from the outside world.
To round off her talk Dot played a rather depressing seventeenth century version of Three Blind Mice and then divided the audience into three sections to sing the rhyme as a three-part round. As she is a musician, I am sure the result was more painful for her than for most of us, but it was certainly an interesting talk and a rousing start to the day.
A Look at Some of The Character Names Used By Early Crime Fiction Authors
She invited us to consider the peculiar two-way magic” of names. An author’s choice of name for a new character, she suggested, can influence how the reader sees them.
Similarly, once an author has created an established character, the mere mention of his or her first name brings the surname automatically to mind, Sherlock, for example prompts us to think, or say, Holmes. Carol’s perusal of Conan Doyle’s notebooks revealed the fascinating process that led to the name of his famous detective, and Holmes equally well-known friend and biography, Dr John Watson , who originally destined to have a very different name.
Autobiographies and notebooks are a valuable source of information for researchers trying to discover the reasoning behind an author choosing the name for a well-known fictional character. Notebooks are the most useful of all because they are a snapshot of the thought-processes of the time. It is possible for an author as well as readers and researchers to over-think the logic behind names after the character is well established.
Of course it’s easy to overthink the meaning of names. Many authors were turning out stories very quickly and depended on instinct, or simply used names popular at the time, especially for peripheral characters. Also, they didn’t worry about continuity of names, so that John Watson’s wife once refers to him to as James and Miss Marple’s nephew’s wife Joyce becomes Joan.
It is fortunate that Conan Doyle left many notebooks and letters that allow us to trace his
process. From these we know the original narrator was not called John Watson. Originally Watson was going to be Ormond Sacker or Secker of Sudan. It seems probable that Conan Doyle had Great Ormond Street Hospital in mind and possibly Secker Street. It is known that he often took names from maps or places he had seen while out walking.
Conan Doyle was determined that his hero would have a distinctive forename and originally Holmes was destined to be Sherington Hope, or possibly Sherrinford Hope. He then switched to Holmes, possibly because of his admiration of the author Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Eventually he settled on not Sherington or Sherrinford but on another name that begins with S, Sherlock. This is a name he may have associated with crime solving because of Chief Inspector William Sherlock, a London police detective. Conan Doyle was a regular reader of newspapers and William Sherlock’s investigative feats were often described in the newspapers usually in what we would now describe as high profile cases. Another successful London detective was Chief Inspector James Sherlock, not as famous as his namesake but still fairly well known to readers of newspapers.
Conan Doyle has stated that Holmes’ deductive abilities were based on Joseph Bell, a surgeon at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, a man who like Holmes was noted for drawing broad conclusions from minute
observations. However, physically Bell was nothing like Holmes whom Conan Doyle created as an imposing figure. In A Study in Scarlet (1887) Holmes is described as more than six feet tall, very lean, with piercing eyes and a thin hawk-like nose.
It was after he had decided on an unusual name for his protagonist that Conan Doyle decided on a good solid name for Holmes’ biographer, and John Watson seemed to fit the bill. In A Study in Scarlet, when Watson has just returned from Afghanistan, he is described as ‘as thin as a lath and brown as a nut.’ In later the stories the picture emerges of a middle-sized, strongly built man, with a square jaw, thick neck and a moustache’ It is also
mentioned that he had been a rugby player.
Regarding some of the more peripheral characters in Holmes’ life: Conan Doyle’s chief police detective had the exotic name of Lestrade which was the name of a fellow student at Edinburgh University.
The other police detective whom Holmes encountered was called Gregson, possibly taken from the name of a crusading missionary who settled in Elm Grove, Portsmouth, and published a memoir of his time in Afghanistan. This was the sort of thing Conan Doyle would definitely wish to read. This man is notable for being the founder of The Sailors’ Total Abstinence Association, an endeavour that seems unlikely to be an overwhelming success.
Another early solver of crimes was G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown. The name Brown seems to echo his insignificance and quiet demeanour, but Brown is also a warm colour, which fits his personality. Chesterton never gives him a first name. He is always called Father Brown, which helps to emphasise his identity as a priest. Once Chesterton calls him Father J. Brown. .’ In appearance, as in his name, Father Brown is modest and unimposing. When the reader first encounters him in The Blue Cross (1910) he is described as having ‘a face as round and dull as a Norfolk dumpling; he had eyes as empty as the North Sea; he had several brown-paper parcels, which he was quite incapable of collecting’.
In contrast, Flambeau means a flaming torch and was the pseudonym he chose for himself when he adopted his life of crime. He starts off in the Father Brown stories as a thief but Father Brown convinces him of the error of his ways and he becomes Father Brown’s closest friend and an ally in solving many crimes. Flambeau’s first name is Hercule, appropriate for a giant of a man. Chesterton also portrays him as quick-witted, courageous and very loyal and fundamentally, despite his criminal origins, a man of honour.
This brings us to a very different Hercule. Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot is far from being a physical giant. As Christie wrote in her Autobiography: ‘How about calling my little man Hercules. He would be a small man - Hercules is a good name. His last name was more difficult. I don’t know why I settled on the name Poirot, whether it just came into my head or whether I saw it in some newspaper or written on something - anyway it came. It went well not with Hercules but Hercule - Hercule Poirot.’
Although there is humour in calling a pernickety little Belgian after a Classical Greek hero who is a warrior of immense strength, there is a deeper logic for the name. Poirot is a man who confronts and succeeds in dealing with various challenges as Christie makes clear in The Labours of Hercules (1947) where he undertakes the labours of the classical hero and puts his own spin on it.
However the name Poirot came into Christie’s head, it’s a name that means grower or seller of pears which seems to fit the rotundity of Poirot’s figure.
In The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920) Captain Arthur Hastings describes Poirot as being hardly more than five feet four inches tall but he carried himself with great dignity. Hastings said that Poirot’s head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. It is later emphasised that he is a meticulous dresser, wearing patent leather shoes even when walking rough country roads, and he is obsessive about neatness and order.
Christie’s thought processes regarding Poirot’s ‘Watson’, Arthur Hastings seem clear enough: Arthur, an English hero king, and Hastings, the battle when the Normans took over control of England. Fine British names with a martial note for an officer who retained his Captain’s rank even after he’d left the army, although in fact Hastings is not a ruthless man. Hastings is introduced as Poirot’s friend and biographer in The Mysterious Affair at Styles, at which point he is about thirty years old. He is represented as the typical English gentleman and is always preoccupied with ‘fair play’. He has a weakness for any young lady in trouble, especially if they have auburn hair. As he is the narrator of the stories, his physical appearance is rarely described although we are told that he has a moustache, which Poirot speaks of disparagingly: ‘And your moustache. If you must have a moustache, let it be a real moustache, a thing of beauty such as mine.’ (Peril at End House, 1932.)
Christie’s interest in classical stories is also obvious in her use of the name Ariadne, when she is describing the author Ariadne Oliver who attempts to help Poirot in a few of his cases. Ariadne was the Cretan princess whom provided the thread that guided Theseus through the maze. In Middle English clew means a ball of thread or string, so a clew leads a person through a maze. Ariadne Oliver is a writer who provides clues to lead the readers through her crime stories and is often thought of as the character that embodies Christie’s humorous image of herself. It was thought that Christie took the name Marple from a railway station she used frequently when visiting her sister. However, in a letter Christie wrote to a fan she said the name Marple was inspired by a visit to a sale at Marple Hall, which is a change with little difference as the station and hall were in the same vicinity. Regarding the rest of Christie’s characters:
When we first meet Tommy Beresford in The Secret Adversary (1922) it is just after the First World War in which he has served as a soldier. Tommy was a nickname for a soldier and suits him better than the stiffer and more formal Thomas.
Our first meeting with Tuppence Beresford (also in The Secret Adversary) she is not married and her surname is Cowley. Her real Christian name is Prudence, a remarkably inappropriate name for her lively and impetuous personality. The bright shiny nature of her nickname Tuppence seems much more suitable. In Christie’s version the acidic Felicity Lemon (secretary to first Parker Pyne and then to Hercule Poirot) is far more lemon than Felicity.
The alliterative rotundity of Parker Pyne fits with the figure and personality of its owner. Mr Satterthwaite encapsulates his twittering, fussiness.
The mystical Mr Harley Quinn speaks for itself and encapsulates another of Christie’s inspirations, the Harlequinade, when he appears in the 1930 collection of short stories The Mysterious Mr Quin.
Although Dorothy L. Sayers described how she came to invent Lord Peter Wimsey’s wealth and status she never explained how she created his name, but it illustrates two dominant but contradictory strands of his character: Peter, which means ‘a rock’, and Wimsey, which in its conventional spelling ‘whimsy’ means ‘quaint, fanciful and playful’.
According to Sayers, the Wimsey family motto is ‘As my Whimsy takes me.’ Wimsey’s middle names, Death Bredon, were introduced in Murder Must Advertise (1933) when Sayers required a picturesque name for Wimsey to use when he went undercover at an advertising agency. At the start of this book Wimsey’s appearance is described by Miss Meteyard, one of the copy-writers: ‘“Then I think I’ve seen him. … Tow-coloured, supercilious-looking blighter … Cross between Ralph Lynn and Bertie Wooster.”’
John Creasey had numerous heroes and to many of them he gave a nom de guerre (a pseudonym for when they were undertaking a certain role). These include The Baron (John Mannering) and The Toff (Richard Rollison). However probably the most enduring of Creasey’s heroes is unequivocally himself and needs no concealment. That is the solid and reliable Commander George Gideon of Scotland Yard. Creasey was such a prolific writer that it seems probable he relied on instinct to name his characters rather than long drawn-out research but it is worth noting that St George was the patron saint of England, slayer of dragons and Gideon was a biblical hero of great strength. George Gideon is described as a powerfully built but quiet voiced man, with a remarkable memory and a great capacity for working on several cases at the same time.
Next, we come to the Mysterious Case of the Elusive Mr Campion. Margery Allingham introduced Albert Campion in The Crime at Black Dudley (1929).
It is common knowledge that Campion was supposed to be a peripheral character and Allingham intended George Abbershaw, a doctor and pathologist, to be her hero, potentially for a crime fiction series. Then something occurred that many writers will have experienced, Albert Campion, whom Abbershaw describes as ‘a silly ass’ starts to dominate the story and the public’s and publisher’s imaginations. In the end Abbershaw gets the girl he wanted and Campion gets to be the the gentleman adventurer who is the protagonist of nineteen books and numerous short stories by Allingham, plus a large number of books by Allingham’s husband, Philip Youngman Carter, and later by Mike Ripley.
Allingham makes it clear that the name Albert Campion is a pseudonym to disguise the son of a noble, possibly royal, house and his real first name is Rudolph. It seems that his family would not admit to a descendant who made his living as an adventurer but nevertheless he has many friends and acquaintances amongst the upper classes and, in later books, becomes far more respectable.
The name he chose for himself is significant. Albert was a popular name with royal connections. It was the name of Queen Victoria’s husband and King Edward VII, popularly known as Bertie. Campion is the name of a small, wild flower and was probably chosen to draw a parallel with the Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. The Scarlet Pimpernel is a well-born, courageous adventurer who conceals his identity under this pseudonym and his true character under the guise of foppish foolishness. In appearance Campion is described as thin, fair-haired and he wears horn-rimmed glasses. He is often considered to be a parody of Peter Wimsey.
Ellis Peters was a writer with a passion for history and a keen insight for the meaning of names. All her medieval mysteries are filled with names that reflect the origins of her characters, even the peripheral ones, so that her stories offer a rich, meaningful tapestry of a time when England was divided and being torn to shreds by civil war.
Peters had intended Brother Cadfael to be the protagonist in a stand-alone historical mystery but the desire to return to Shrewsbury and to her investigator monk was overwhelming. In the Introduction to A Rare Benedictine (1988) she explains that her observer and agent of justice had to be a Welshman and she wanted an rare name. In this explanation, Peters says the name Cadfael only appeared once in Welsh history as the baptismal name of St. Cadog.
Cadfael means ‘battle prince’ a strange name for Brother Cadfael the Benedictine monk of humble Welsh origins but curiously apt for the warrior for justice and Cadfael had been a soldier into middle-age, taking the cowl after many years of fighting, including going on a Crusade. There are many descriptions of Cadfael throughout the series but this one comes from The Raven In The Foregate (1986), the twelfth book in the series, set when Cadfael has been a monk for many years. ‘a man past sixty, in robust health, bar the occasional stiffness in the joints proper to his age, squarely made, blunt-featured, with wiry brown hair laced with grey … round a shaven crown that’s been out in all weathers for many a year.’
It is impossible to describe all the characters with meaningful names in Peters’ work but one that stands out is Abbot Radfulus. Radfulus is a name of Nordic origins which means ‘a shield wolf’ and this quality is evident in this quote from The Sanctuary Sparrow (1983) where the abbot comes to the defence of a poor man accused of violent robbery and hunted into the Shrewsbury Abbey by a mob intent upon his death.
‘Abbot Radfulus, all the long, lean, muscular length of him, with his gaunt authoritative lantern head blazing atop, sailed round the altar, smoky candle in hand, slashed the skirts of his robe like a whip across the stooping beast-faces of the foremost attackers, and with a long bony leg bestrode the fallen creature that clawed at the fringes of the altar.
“Rabble, stand off! Blasphemers, quit this holy place and be ashamed, Back, before I blast your souls eternally!”
He had no need to raise his voice to a shout, he had only to unsheathe it like a knife, and it cut through the babble as through cheese.
In my opinion, Ellis Peters had a deep awareness of language and the power of names, and she used this combined scholarship and instinct to create the names of her characters.
The Names Game is an endless exercise and, when you start to analyse the names of fictitious characters, it is easy to make too many assumptions and see links when, in reality, the author didn’t intend anything of the kind or even think about it very much. However it is great fun to play and can be extended to cover contemporary authors as well.
Carol went on to discuss the significance of G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown, a name that reflects the protagonist’s quiet demeanour and warm personality. Although he is never given a first name, we learned that the sleuth was referred to as Father J. Brown in just one short story, and, in another, someone calls him ‘Paul.’ How different, said Carol, to the clergyman’s famous opponent, who later became his closest friend. Flambeau means a torch, and his first name, Hercule, recalls a giant of a man. The name also provided a perfect link to the next literary character.
The diminutive Hercule Poirot is also named after a classical Greek hero. Unlikely perhaps, even amusing at times, but, as Carol reminded us, appropriate for a crime fighter of renown and whom Christie pointedly depicted confronting and overcoming a variety of challenges in The Labours of Hercules. Arthur Hastings is a name entirely fitting for a retired British Army Captain, just as, in another series, Tommy Beresford is the perfect name for a World War I veteran.
Female sleuths were also mentioned, two being her most famous, Miss Marple inspired by a visit to Marple Hall, whilst the crime writer character, Ariadne Oliver harks back to a classical influence.
Carol next turned her attention to Dorothy L. Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey, whose name perfectly illustrates the two contradictory strands of his character, Peter (the rock) and Wimsey expressing the playful notion of whimsy, and which appears in the family motto ‘As my Whimsy takes me.’
The name George Gideon, said Carol, perfectly describes John Creasey's enduring Scotland Yard Commander because of its association with both the dragon-slaying patron saint of England and the biblical hero Gideon.
After an assessment of Margery Allingham’s Albert Campion, Carol turned to Ellis Peters’ Brother Cadfael novels. Peters’ interest in Celtic history and passion for names was highlighted with examples, a fitting conclusion to Carol’s carefully researched and fascinating exploration of character names, and which, as participant- moderator of the first panel of the day, she interrogated four contemporary authors,
Carol then turned to the panel and asked
Nick Everard, Graham Donnelly, Richard Salisbury, and Lesley Thomson,
on their views of
What’s In a Name?
Lesley Thomson was asked to start off the panel’s thoughts on, “What’s in a Name?” and she obliged by explaining, “I kind of have to have the name before I can start writing.’’ She described how Stella Darnell, the mentral character of her highly successful ‘Detective’s Daughter’ series, was conceived partly because it was a name she would like to have been called herself. The sound of the name, Lesley told us, is important and Stella Darnell provided the strength she wanted for the character. In addition, Stella, meaning star, is associated with the brightness of the character whilst also linking with her protagonist’s profession, running a cleaning company. The name works equally well for Stella as a detective whose exploits restore order and generally tidy things up.
Stella’s partner in crime is called Jack Harmon, and Lesley teased us with a clue that there is a Dickensian element to his name, but she would say no more. Interestingly Lesley told us that if she really likes a name, she often gives it to the murderer!
We heard next from Richard Salsbury whose debut novel Mute was published in September 2023. Richard too felt that he needed a character name before he could proceed with fleshing out his character. Richard explained that he relies on intuition when he is choosing the character’s name, “it feels right.” He went on to describe that the name of the would-be killer in ‘Mute,’ Keiron, has the hard ‘k’ at the beginning but also an element of softness that suits the protagonist. Richard then told us how he came to decide on the name of Strathurst’ the town in which the novel is set. The town is entirely fictitious, invented from two Old English words: ‘Strat’ meaning ‘Roman road’ and ‘hurst’ referring to a ‘wooded hill.’ Richard also sounded a warning note when he described that whilst trying to find a name for another of his fictional characters, he chose the first name, Kurt. Later, ‘Haines’ was picked for the character’s surname. This changed when Richard realised that Kurt Haines sounded a little too much like a soft furnishing!
Graham Donnelly, by contrast, always starts with characters having no name at all because at the beginning of his novels he is not always sure what they are going to be like. Graham then told us that, “like Charles Dickens, I don’t like to give bad people normal names.” He hunts for English surnames that have died out since the First World War and gave the example of Anthony Fernard, the protagonist in his second novel, Unwritten Rules, Fernard, he explained was a name that died out in the 1920s, whilst the name William Lyus, in his third novel Take One Life, belonged to one of Graham’s ancestors, and has also died out. In order not to be sued, as Georgette Heyer once was for using a name that was shared by a real person, Graham now errs on the side of caution and not only bad people but all his characters receive either made up or no longer used names. The exceptions are where he includes real characters from history as in his recent book involving the economist John Maynard Keynes.
Ex-army officer Nick Everard began writing his first novel during the pandemic. He said that the names of characters in his first two books, Clean Kill and Past Unbecoming respectively, were inspired by people he had known in the past. He needed names that fitted the personalities within the story and so he invented them from people he had encountered in his life, then mixed up first and last names as well as including the disclaimer that his characters are fictitious and do not reflect real people. More problematic is his current book because it relates to a real murder from 1932. Alert to the fact that some of the people involved in the events might recognise aspects of the case, Nick used the real crime as a springboard into the story he wanted to tell and ensured that no names which might have resonated with the actual events were used. Nick, like the other panellists, checks names via the internet to avoid attributing a celebrity’s name to one of his characters. He also suggested that names in novels should be easy to pronounce and fit the era in which the novel is set.
Carol Westron, agreed with this sentiment in relation to her Victorian murder mystery, Strangers and Angels. When, some time ago, a reader declared that “Edwin was not the name for a hero!” Carol, having used the name because it was appropriate for the period, politely, but firmly, explained that it would remain the hero’s name. She also spoke about having to change the name of the protagonist in her first novel The Terminal Velocity of Cats. As the novel was being written, Carol felt the name Megan didn’t suit her bubbly Scenes of Crime Officer, and so she became Mia Trent which immediately invested the character with more energy as well as changing the officer’s physical appearance. She also reiterated that using instinct to choose the right name for your character is a crucial part of being a novelist.
The discussion was then opened to the floor who questioned the panel members as well as offering their own thoughts on the topic of character and place names from the viewpoint of both authors and readers.
After a short break we were in for a treat from the
Guest of Honour Simon Brett OBE.
Simon is a former Chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association, and he delighted us with a glorious performance of
A Crime in Rhyme’
first performed at the Arundel Festival in 1998. The piece, which was also written by Simon, has been performed in places from Anglesey to Washington and the Greek Island of Skyros.
The murder mystery composed entirely in rhyme and recited in a variety of voices, including Lord
Raneleigh De Vere, an amateur sleuth with a strong French accent, who may have been based on another, rather more well-known fictional detective? The piece was very well received by the audience members, each of whom received a free programme prepared by the playwright-performer, and which was as witty as the performance it accompanied.
After this jolly revel, it was time for lunch, during which a free raffle offered delegates a chance to win a copy of Glenda Young’s latest novel
Foul Play at the Seaview Hotel.
Here are the lucky winners.
The afternoon session started with three talks on
‘Aspects of Writing the Past.’
The Tickler’s Jam Murders’
which was inspired by his great grandfather, T J Tickler (1852-1938)
Peter was followed by Graham Donnelly who talked about his use of real people in works of fiction spanning most of the 20th century. He explained that he wanted to set the stories he was writing within genuine situations and that when an actual historical character appears he considers that a bonus. Using real people, however, can be tricky in terms of libel laws! Graham’s second novel was set during the Cuban Missile Crisis and, to guide his inclusion of John Profumo in the book, which he did, he was very careful only to use the exact words uttered by the disgraced politician. His next book included Horatio Bottomley M.P. and Winston Churchill and for Graham, the key to writing appropriately about these historic figures is to be true to them. He cited cases where real characters are portrayed inaccurately and how this can and does cause distress to their descendants.
Finally, Nick Everard spoke about his use of events rather than people in fiction. As a military veteran, Nick, explained that he can draw on his experiences in the armed forces when writing about war and conflict. Nick’s second novel Past Unbecoming is set in 2005 and has a central character who has been asked to research and revise some regimental history’ He discovers a disturbing event from the past that has an impact on the present. Nick explained how. when recounting the past, the key issue was accuracy; it was important to focus on the plot and not meander into the minutiae of historical detail. Nick emphasised the need to get your facts straight and remember not to force everything you know about historical detail into your story. “Less is more,” is the key, he advised.
A lively question and answer session followed this thought-provoking panel and encompassed such dilemmas about how far can you push the line between reality and fiction and are there crimes too horrific to be the source of fiction? Peter Tickler observed that the key for authors is to feel comfortable about the subject matter in their
narratives.
We then moved on to the final panel of the day:
‘It Wasn’t Like That In the Book!’
in which Carol Westron, Jeff Dowson, Peter Tickler, Dot Marshall-Gent and Will Sutton were asked to give their views on the perils and pleasures of books hitting the screen. It was clear from the start that several of the panel and delegates held strong opinions about the issue of portraying books on screen or stage.
Peter Tickler, the panel’s participant-moderator, turned first to Jeff Dowson, a renowned screenwriter with an extensive background in movies and television, and asked “Why wasn’t it like that in the book?” to which Jeff responded succinctly, “Because it’s a film!” Jeff went on to explain that writers conceive of their work as a story that will be consumed by readers, if they then sell the book to movie makers it will then make its way through the hands of the screenwriter, producer, director, musician, actors and sound technicians. This combined group, said Jeff, amounts to around two hundred people, all of whom will have a specific job and offer input into the final movie of the book. In short, it’s no surprise that the original contents of the narrative will be altered and com pressed into a two hour moving picture. Jeff suggested that movies are the greatest art form of the twentieth century because they “encompass everything.” This compelling argument was countered by Carol Westron who pointed to TV versions of Christie’s novels that change the nature of the character and the plot. Her point was that if so much is amended, then why not simply call the story something else? A murmur of approval greeted this observation, but Jeff responded that this was the price writer’s pay for signing away the rights to their writings. Will Sutton then posed the issue of modern Christie adaptations, particularly the ones that appear at Christmas where they’re “toughing it up.” Carol confessed that she avoids such versions, although Peter suggested that the most recent televised version of ‘And Then There Were None,’ was a positive example of the transition from page to screen because “…it actually got inside the characters…”. Jeff pointed out that the actors playing iconic roles from crime fiction, also affects the way readers of the original stories receive adaptations and gave the example of Bertie Carvel’s convincing portrayal of PD James’ Inspector Dalgliesh. Whilst opinions on book to screen adaptations will always be contentious, the discussion was good-natured and it was smiles all round, although some conference participants may have agreed to disagree.
Jeff Dowson then performed a quick turnaround as he grappled with the thorny question
‘Just Whodunnits or Something More Important?’
His began with the premise that those privileged to be working in the arts in the widest sense have a responsibility to do their best to “make something, that is about something, that means something.” It is not enough just to entertain, important though that is.
He then turned to a question he was once asked by a reader and that gave him pause for thought. “Why” asked his reader, “are your books so issue-led?” It was an enquiry that led him to consider the importance of embedding “soul” in one’s writing, music, drama, or painting. Jeff referred the conference to Picasso’s 1937 masterpiece Guernica as an example of art that oozes with issues. He then returned to the title of the talk ‘Whodunnits’ as part of the rich world of crime fiction. This genre, Jeff believes, is best placed to deal with issues important to society and the individuals within society. This, he suggested, is not least because crime fiction accounts for more sales than any other literary genre. He said that the creative arts can tackle challenging issues in ways that are accessible and can be light, even comical. By the end of Jeff’s thought-provoking talk, we were in no doubt that, at its best, there is no such thing a ‘just’ work of art, it is always ‘something more important.’
After spending a whole day at the conference most of the audience were looking forward to sitting back and
listening to our Expert Witnesses,
and Colin White, photo right
Two retired police officers who are now part of the
University of Portsmouth’s Criminology Department.
Paul and Colin were to talk to us about The Real CSI , but instead of a presentation they set us a crime scene scenario and asked us what the police should do to resolve the case of a young man found dead in a park with signs of drug taking equipment lying next to him. They then used the audience suggestions as a teaching tool, throwing in facts about which police officers would attend the scene of death and the role of paramedics, doctors and coroners in declaring the victim dead and deciding the reason for death. They pointed out that there was no evidence that the man had died a suspicious death.
The two speakers then upped the ante by declaring that a credit card has been discovered in the dead man’s sock which directs the investigation to a house where the police officers look through the window and see somebody slumped in a chair. This gives the officers a reason to force entry and they discover two people who have died through violence, which means that they have a definite crime scene to investigate. They continually demanded, ‘What would you do next?’
It was a lively, humorous and interactive session, which was incredibly enjoyable and if we’d had several more hours available it’s possible that we might have solved the crime but overall, it seems more likely these deaths would remain unsolved.
And so, the 2024 annual event ended. Thanks must go to all the speakers who gave so generously of their time and expertise as well as the lovely people who attended the conference for their participation and support of the annual event. Thanks also, to the staff of Portsmouth Library and Hayling Island Books who ran a stall selling speakers’ books throughout the day, and the University of Portsmouth for providing such a well-appointed venue. Finally, a virtual round of applause, if you please, to Carol Westron organiser par excellence of her seventh Mystery Fest conference.
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