Whose Body (and others), by Dorothy L. Sayers

My insatiable love of mysteries forces me to return to this genre once again. I decided to review the first book in what is possibly my favorite series of mysteries, but with a few qualms. For one, I don't think there is any way I can do Dorothy Sayers justice. She was an exceptionally intelligent woman, who was highly respected by many of the great minds of her day (think people like C.S. Lewis). She studied modern languages and medieval literature at Oxford, at a time when Oxford did not even give degrees to women. She later earned her M.A. there, when they finally accepted that women deserved to be recognized for their academic work. She was a scholar in every sense of the word--eventually translating a version of Dante's Divine Comedy as well as The Song of Roland. And she was overall just a fascinating person.

But my other fear in reviewing these mysteries is that they aren't really on quite the same level of other mysteries but seem to exist on a slightly higher plane. Because Sayers was a scholar, her stories have that touch of erudition to them that the stories by Agatha Christie, for example, lack. This isn't to say that Sayers is difficult to read. Rather, she tends to go just that much further into the human psyche, delving into the complex motives and behavior of mankind. She does this even more than someone like Chesterton, who tends to start going there but never quite finishes. Sayers's stories are like tapestries, intricately woven and quite difficult to unravel at times. I should point out that they aren't a challenge to understand: after all, a murder mystery is still a murder mystery. But she layers her stories with other elements such as class conflict, spiritual nuance, and (of course) psychological analysis. And what makes it all work is that she is a truly spectacular writer.

As for the story itself, Whose Body? heralds the beginning of the mysteries about the delightful fop Lord Peter Wimsey. Lord Peter is an unusual detective, under any circumstances. To the manner born (if I dare...), he is the second son of the fictitious Duke of Denver and quite literally grew up in the lap of luxury. He has developed a taste for amateur detective work and is assisted in this by his devoted "man" Bunter. There is every expectation that he would be spoiled, stuffy, and thoroughly aristocratic; but here is where the expectation falls short. Lord Peter may be an aristocrat. He may be wealthy and live in an expensive flat in Mayfair. But he is a humanitarian at heart with a true passion for doing good in his detective work. He always has a touch of the aristocratic fop about him (as he strolls through London with his monocle and his walking stick), but much of this covers up his real personality. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Lord Peter might be likened to the Scarlet Pimpernel, but there is a vague similarity at times.

Whose Body? opens with the discovery of a dead body in a bathtub wearing only a pince-nez. The identity of the corpse is unknown; but at the same time this unusual visitor makes his appearance in the bathtub, a well-known and highly influential financier named Sir Reuben Levy disappears. Lord Peter, who is acquainted with both the financier and the owner of the bathtub, makes it his responsibility to investigate. He has a friend in Scotland Yard in the person of Chief Inspector Charles Parker. Together, Lord Peter and Charles begin poking their noses into this strange affair, only to discover at the end a killer far more methodical and deranged than they could have imagined. Now, here is where it gets tricky for me. The challenge with reviewing mysteries is to say just enough to get people attentive but not so much that you give it all away. I want to tickle the interest, but not make everyone start yelling, "Spoilers!". Therefore...I'm going to stop here and hope that what I've said is enough to tantalize.

To return to the general, what makes this story, as well as all of the stories in the series, work so well is not only the plot (which is quite good) and the writing (which is above-average), but the characterization. Dorothy Sayers slowly peels back the layers of Lord Peter, showing us a man who is considerably unlike the one we originally thought him to be. At first glance, he is quite the upper-class, public school English nobleman. When we get to know him better, however, we learn that much of this is a front. He fought in the Great War and occasionally suffers severe flashbacks that nearly incapacitate him. He is lighthearted and playful, but this often disguises a soft heart that falls deeply in love and can be very hurt. Unfortunately--or perhaps very fortunately--we don't get all of this in the first book. Whose Body? introduces Lord Peter, giving the reader only a taste of the character. To really appreciate what Sayers does with him and to understand how intricate of a character he is, it's really essential to read all of the stories.

Listed in order of publication, the mysteries are:

Whose Body?
Clouds of Witness
Unnatural Death
The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club
Strong Poison
Five Red Herrings
Have His Carcase
Murder Must Advertise
The Nine Tailors
Gaudy Night
Busman's Honeymoon
Thrones, Dominations

When I work up the nerve, I would like to review The Nine Tailors and Gaudy Night individually. But they are such complex stories that I don't think I can even begin to show them for what they are worth, so, alas, I wait. But as for the others, I can highly recommend them. The only ones to be a little cautious about are the last two, and particularly the final book. Sayers died before it was completed, leaving only her notes, and the book was basically written by Jill Paton Walsh. I won't knock Walsh; she does an exceptional job, and her writing is very persuasively like that of Sayers. But it doesn't always have the same confident articulation as the other books, and definitely doesn't feel the same. As for the second-to-last book, in my opinion it's a bit problematic. On the one hand, I like it because it's about Lord Peter's long-awaited marriage. On the other hand, it just doesn't work at times and honestly is more about his relationship with his new wife than it is about a murder mystery. That being said, it's worth the read--as are all the books in the series. (And major kudos to anyone who can identify the quotation from which the title Thrones, Dominations comes.)

For any mystery fan, Lord Peter is a must, and Whose Body? is the book to start with. For those who aren't mystery fans, I still recommend it, because I think there is enough of the sociological to interest readers as well. So, I hope you're next trip to the library or bookstore finds you with Lord Peter in your hands.

Books to Read Before I Die

This is a list I put together some time ago on the recommendation of a friend in Washington. I've been a little scattered in my reading lately, lacking the focus I usually like to have. So, I returned to my list of "books to read before I die." Now, I should point out that this isn't an entirely original list. I took many (most) of the ideas from the 1000 Good Books List over at Classical Christian Homeschooling, but I don't think the originality of the list should be an issue. These are all generally agreed to be very good books, and I'm highly grateful to the person who put them together in one place.

My reason for doing this is to keep myself focused as I read. I don't want to be completely devoid of spontaneity in choosing books, nor do I want to go through life saying, "Gee, I should have read that." Now, I have no excuse.

So here is the grand list. It's not 1000 books, but it looks like it! The books in bold are those I have read already. Looking over it, I'm kind of embarrassed that I haven't read certain ones.

Absalom, Absalom by William Faulkner
Adam Bede by George Eliot
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Aenid by Virgil
Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank
All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Remarque
Amazing Adventures of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton
American Leonardo by Carleton Mabee
Americanization of Edward Bok by Edward Bok
Annals and Histories by Tacitus
And Quiet Flows the Don by Mikhail Sholokhov
Animal Farm and 1984 by George Orwell
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
Antiquities of the Jews and Wars of the Jews by Josephus
Autobiography by Benvenuto Cellini
Autobiography by Theodore Roosevelt
Ballad of the White Horse by G. K. Chesterton
Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope
Beowulf
Bible in Spain by George Borrows
Bleak House by Charles Dickens
Bondage of the Will by Martin Luther
Borden of Yale by Mrs. Howard Taylor
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Burning Bush by Sigrid Undset
Byzantium by Stephen R. Lawhead
Cabinet of Antiquities by Honore de Balzac
Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
Captain Cook's Explorations by James Cook
Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset
Charterhouse of Parma by Stendahl
Chivalry by James Branch Cabell
Christianity and Liberalism by J. Gresham Machen
Complete mysteries of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Complete works of C. S. Lewis
Complete works of William Shakespeare
Complete works of J. R. R. Tolkien
Complete Wooster and Jeeves by P. G. Wodehouse
Confessions and City of God by St. Augustine
Conquest of Granada by Washington Irving
Contender by Robert Lipsyte
Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Covenant by James A. Michener
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Cripps, the Carrier by Richard Blackmore
Crisis by Thomas Paine
Cross and the Switchblade by David Wilkerson
Cruise of the "Nona" by Hilaire Belloc
Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton
Cur Deus Homo by St. Anselm
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
Death of Ivan Ilyitch by Leo Tolstoy
Death of the Gods by Dmitri Merejkowski
Diary & Autobiography of John Adams edited by L. Butterfield
Diary by David Brainerd
Diary of a Country Priest by George Bernanos
Divine Comedy by Dante
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
Dracula by Bram Stoker
Dream Thief by Stephen R. Lawhead
Ecclesiastical History by Venerable Bede
Education of Henry Adams by Henry Adams
Emma by Jane Austen
Epic of Gilgamesh
Erewhon by Samuel Butler
Everlasting Man by G. K. Chesterton
Every Living Thing by James Herriot
Experience the Depths of Jesus Christ by Madame Jeanne Guyon
Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser
Fairy Tale of My Life: An Autobiography by Hans Christian Anderson
Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev
Faust by Johann von Goethe
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
Four Voyages to the New World by Christopher Columbus
Foxe's Christian Martyrs by John Foxe, edited by W. Grinton Berry
Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Gargantua and Pantagruel by Francois Rabelais
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Greek Way to Western Civilization by Edith Hamilton
Green Mansions by William H. Hudson
Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh
Heart of Darkness and Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad
Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther by Roland H. Bainton
History by Herodotus
History of the Pelopponesian War by Thucydides
House by the Medlar Tree by Giovanni Verga, translated by D. H. Lawrence
House of Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne
How I Found Livingstone by Sir Henry Morton Stanley
Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
Iceland Fisherman by Pierre Loti
Iliad and Odyssey by Homer
Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis
In Defense of Virginia and the South by R. L. Dabney
In Praise of Folly by Erasmus
Institutes of the Christian Religion by John Calvin
In This Sign by Joanne Greenburg
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Jerusalem by Selma Lagerlof
Journal by George Fox
Journal by John Wesley
Jungle by Upton Sinclair
Kalevala
Lalla Rookh by Tom Moore
Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper
Lavengro by George Borrows
Lectures in Sacred Rhetoric by R. L. Dabney
Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
Life of Columbus by Washington Irving
Life of George Washington by Washington Irving
Life of Samuel Johnson by James Boswell
Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans by Plutarch
Looking Backward by Edward Bellamy
Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries by Dorothy Sayers
Lorna Doone by Richard D. Blackmore
Lost Queen of Egypt by Lucile Morrison
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
Magnalia Christi Americana by Cotton Mather
A Man Called Thursday by G. K. Chesterton
Martin Chuzzelwitt by Charles Dickens
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
Metamorphosis by Ovid
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
My Antonia by Willa Cather
My Confession by Leo Tolstoy
Mythology by Edith Hamilton
Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens
Old Creole Days by George Washington Cable
Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens
Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens
On Walden Pond by Henry David Thoreau
On Poetics by Aristotle
On Rhetoric by Aristotle
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Oresteia by Aeschylus
Origin of Species by Charles Darwin
Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
Paradise War (and others in trilogy) by Stephen R. Lawhead
Peace Child by Don Richardson
Pere Goirot by Honore de Balzac
Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard
Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan
Pillar of Iron by Taylor Caldwell
Portrait of a Lady by Henry James
Power & the Glory by Graham Greene
Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Prince by Macchiavelli
Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope Hawkins
Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz
Rabble in Arms by Kenneth Roberts
Ramona by Helen Hunt Jackson
Raven: a Biography of Sam Houston by Marquis James
The Red and the Black by Stendahl
Republic by Plato
Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy
Rhetorica ad Herennium (usu. attributed to Cicero)
Romany Rye by George Borrows
Roots of the Mountains by William Morris
Rule of St. Benedict
Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini
Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthrone
Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy
Scott's Last Expedition by Robert Scott
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
Servant of Slaves by Grace Irwin
Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs by William Morris
Song of Roland
Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
Snow Goose by Paul Gallico
Song of the Scaffold by Gertrud von Le Fort
Summa Theologica by St. Thomas Aquinas
Tale of the South Downs by Richard Blackmore
Taliesin, Merlin, and Arthur, by Stephen R. Lawhead
Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchan
The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Tom Jones and others by Henry Fielding
Travels in Arabian Deserts by Charles Doughty
Two Years before the Mast by Richard Dana
Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington
Utopia by Thomas More
Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackery
Vicar of Wakefield by Oliver Goldsmith
Virginians by William Makepeace Thackery
Voyages to the New World by Hakluyt
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
War of the Worldviews by Gary DeMar
Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler
Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith
Wisdom of the Desert by Thomas Merton
With Fire and Sword by Henryk Sienkiewicz
Witness by Whittaker Chambers
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

I suppose not every book on this list could rightfully be called a "classic." Many are just good books that are worth reading. Some of these books I've started and couldn't finish; others I really don't want to read but feel like I should (like anything by Dickens...). And some books I might add to the list as I go along. But this is my starting place. It might take me a couple of years to complete all of them; why rush it? Reading is for enjoyment, and I hate to turn it into a marathon. So, Adam Bede is now sitting on my desk waiting for me to begin it. Many days of reading ahead.

The History of Middle-earth, edited by Christopher Tolkien

About once a year, I think to myself, "I need to reread Lord of the Rings." The thought struck me recently, as did a strange interest in reading once again Christopher Tolkien's landmark series of books about his father's many writings. It's a twelve-volume series of books, four of which (depending on the publisher) are about the writing of Lord of the Rings. This is truly a fascinating read, but one that is going to be highly specialized. Not everyone will want to delve this deeply into J.R.R. Tolkien's mind, but those who love his works might not be able to get enough.

It's important to remember that Lord of the Rings was only a small part of Tolkien's repertoire, and that his real interest was not so much in the saga of the Rings but in the mythology that led up to it. In fact, the vast majority of the History of Middle-earth is about the stories found in The Silmarillion, a truly exquisite book, but one that reads a bit like the Old Testament. I loved The Silmarillion, but I'll admit that it took me as long to read that as it took me to read Lord of the Rings. One does not skim The Silmarillion; one absorbs it slowly and steadily, taking it in little by little.

But enough about The Silmarillion. The series that has been titled--rather generically, I think, but perhaps appropriately--The History of Middle-earth encompasses in twelve volumes as many notes and drafts as could be located from Tolkien's decades of writing. In fact, many of the notes derive from his earliest ideas during and immediately after World War I. Christopher Tolkien very helpfully provides notes of his own, explaining where he located many of the documents and how he interpreted them when the handwriting was nearly illegible. Apparently, J.R.R. Tolkien was a bit disorganized, and he had a habit of scribbling his thoughts down hastily with little regard for how readable they would later be (for himself as well as other readers). I found Christopher Tolkien's notes to be very interesting and, for research purposes very helpful, although I think in some cases he gave multiple meanings to the word exhaustive. My original idea in reading these books was to develop a greater appreciation for the world that Tolkien created--for he did create a world, essentially. There is no question that I developed this appreciation, along with a few migraines. That being said, I am very glad I pushed myself through them, because I gained a very complete picture of what Tolkien was trying to do.

Because I'm talking about twelve books, instead of just one, I'm not even going to begin reviewing them one-by-one. I will provide a list of the books, and then discuss the overall pros and cons from the series. The list, in order:

The Book of Lost Tales, Part One
The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two
The Lays of Beleriand
The Shaping of Middle-earth
The Lost Road and Other Writings
The Return of the Shadow
The Treason of Isengard
The War of the Ring
Sauron Defeated: The End of the Third Age
Morgoth's Ring: The Later Silmarillion, Part One
The War of the Jewels: The Later Silmarillion, Part Two
The Peoples of Middle-earth

The first few books in the series focus exclusively on Tolkien's early mythology, with books four-seven dealing with Lord of the Rings. The last three books round out Middle-earth, with Tolkien's later thoughts on the mythology he had developed and his attempts to clarify some of his ideas on creatures such as Elves and Dwarves. (I particularly recall a lengthy discussion about what the immortality of the Elves entailed.) Apparently, there were indications that Tolkien wanted to include something about an immortal coming to Arda as a Man and thus providing immortality for Men as well--obviously patterning this after the Christian worldview. As fascinating as many of Tolkien's ideas were, even he realized that they were not complete, and I think he would have loved to have spent many more years developing them. As it is, we can certainly appreciate what he left us.

Now for the pros and cons. Pros: These books are absolutely incredible in the depth of information they provide. Christopher Tolkien goes so far as to include things like details about a few lines scribbled on the back of an envelope or a scrap of paper. In places, he tries to decipher the first layer of writing that his father erased and wrote over, sometimes more than once. (Bear in mind that Tolkien was writing much of this during the war years and that paper was quite scarce. Very often, he wrote on the back of the examination papers from his students.) Additionally, the books provide a wonderful look at Tolkien himself, as seen through the eyes of a son who had only the greatest respect for his father. But as a fan of Tolkien and his enchanting mythological world, what I liked the most was a close look at the evolution of this world. It was great to see Tolkien at work, thinking through his ideas and forming them into the stories they became. For instance, who knew that Aragorn/Strider was originally a hobbit named Trotter who wore wooden shoes? Or that Tolkien had a variety of names for Frodo--before he was Frodo--including Bingo (about which he noted in the margin that "Bingo Baggins" was a pretty awful name)? Of course, this kind of information only further clutters my head full of arguably useless knowledge, but I found it fabulous, in every correct sense of the word.

Cons: These books are not for the faint of heart. If you like Tolkien, but only as a storyteller, you might not care for these. If it is of no concern to you how many different versions of Turin Turambar were written, I suggest that these books will not hold your interest. Now, I want to be cautious in saying this, because I'm not in any way attempting to be elitist or indicate that only a true Tolkien fan, or a Tolkien purist, would like this series. I certainly think anyone can read them and enjoy them. But I know from experience that they are a huge investment of time, and that they can be quite a yawn in places. Honestly, I flat-out refused to complete the book in which the second part was essentially a dictionary of words Tolkien created. I'm pretty much an egghead, but even I won't be accused of reading a dictionary. For those who are interested primarily in Lord of the Rings, I will highly recommend the four books about it; they were probably the easiest to read and the most universally appealing. As for the others, I'd advise readers to wade through The Silmarillion first, savoring every delicious moment of it, and then if interest strikes, give the other books a try. I am personally a huge fan of the Ainulindale, the Valaquenta, the Quenta Silmarillion, and "The Tale of Earendil" (who has one of the greatest names in literature), so reading about these in more detail was great. But it really isn't for everyone. I encourage anyone to give this series a try, but I don't advise purchasing the books sight unseen. Most libraries should have a few of them; try that first and go from there. It's quite a journey, but in my experience it's worth every step.

A Really Fascinating Personality Test

It was surprisingly accurate for me, and I've taken it on two separate occasions, several months apart.

http://www.colorquiz.com/

Thoughts on Literature

This was written in response to several readings from my graduate school classes. I've been pondering these ideas lately, trying to get a grasp on what my opinion really is, and I thought it would be nice to put them out there for general opinions. The texts being discussed are "Reconstructing English," by Norman Fruman, "Literature in the Reader," by Stanley E. Fish, and Is There a Class in This Text? also by Stanley Fish. I apologize if the comments below seem a little vague.

When I first read through Norman Fruman’s article, I was inclined to agree with him on many points. I’m pretty traditional in my interpretation of literature, and I think that part of me likes the idea of finding a solution, much as one would find the solution to a math problem. After being exposed to some other ideas, I’ll admit that while I still agree with Fruman on some things (who disagrees with anyone entirely, after all?), I’m beginning to reconsider the entire concept of reader response to literature.

The idea that literature can be interpreted with a definite “meaning” in mind is attractive to many (myself included), and I venture to say that it is because there is something concrete and almost tangible about it. To think that we should simply throw all definite meaning out and allow readers to impose their own interpretation on a work is akin to literary anarchy. The world might very well fall apart without some sense of restraint. But will it really? After all, most people would agree that some of the fun of reading various interpretations of literature has to do with the different ideas that people bring to their reading. Each individual has experiences that will be unique to a look at the work in question. I will not read in the same way that the person sitting next to me in class will read.

But I think this is where any agreement amongst literary critics will end. Perhaps it’s not so much in the existence of reader response as it is in the extent of it. Fruman seems to be of the opinion that students should seek to find a solid interpretation (under the guidance of a well-trained professor, of course). Fish, however, in his essay “Literature and the Reader,” argues that reading is an experience. Fish does not seem to be encouraging readers to pursue any meaning but to simply appreciate the experience itself. He would argue with Fruman when he says, “The objectivity of the text is an illusion, and moreover, dangerous illusion, because it is so physically convincing” (p. 82), and he goes on to conclude, “The meaning of an utterance…it its experience—all of it—and that experience is immediately compromised the moment you say anything about it” (p. 98).

In Is There a Class in This Text, Fish makes some interesting arguments about why there is an assumption that we must find a meaning and why those who interpret literature often believe that there is a standard meaning to be discovered. His experiment with the list of names shows that students are trained (very well, it appears) to see certain elements in a text and thus interpret literature through these elements. Fish points out, “Interpretation is not the art of construing but the art of constructing. Interpreters do not decode poems; they make them” (p. 326). But what if these elements are not really there but are actually imposed by an outside source instead of the author? Does this mean that they are not there? And does this mean that the value derived from the interpretation or meaning is thus meaningless? Fish would say no, I believe. Given that he sees each reading as an experience, the experience remains valid, whether or not the interpretation discovered is actually a “real” one. Fish says at one point, “…while it is true to say that we create poetry…we create it through interpretive strategies that are finally not our own but have their source in a publicly available system of intelligibility” (p. 332). This “publicly available system” is really the starting point for interpretation, and I don’t think the Fish is necessarily saying that it’s wrong to decipher a standard idea of what a work of literature means (if I dare use that word). Rather he is saying that we cannot stop here. Interpretation must exist on two levels—public and private. The public system enables us as a literary community to enter into the world of interpretation and begin the discussion. From that point, the personal, reader-imposed interpretations can become a part of the discussion—because ultimately that is where the controversy will lie. Of course, the threshold for publicly approved interpretations will probably be low (and in some cases, almost nonexistent), so critics will spend most of their time arguing about the more personal interpretations. As long as critics can agree that there will be disagreement, the discussion of literature will continue and even flourish.