Challenge Complete: As My Whimsy Takes Me

Cristina at Rochester Reader sponsored the As My Whimsy Takes Me Reading Challenge. All Lord Peter Wimsey all the time. How could I resist? (I know I say that about every challenge...)

And tonight I finished up the remainder of the Lord Peter stories--using the complete Wimsey short stories collected in Lord Peter. Once the book comes in from the library, I'll finish the entire book In the Teeth of Evidence (just so I can finish all the Sayers fiction). Otherwise, I have fulfilled the intention of the As My Whimsy Takes Me Challenge--which challenged us to read all of the Wimsey stories.

Books (in order of publication):

1. Whose Body? (1923) [read 3/25/11]

2. Clouds of Witness (1926) [read 5/25/11]
3. Unnatural Death (1927) [read 7/15/11]
4. Lord Peter Views the Body (1928) [Short Story Collection] (read 8/28/11)
5. The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club (1928) [read 8/29/11]
6. Strong Poison (1930) [read 9/15/11]
7. Five Red Herrings (1931) [read 9/17/11]
8. Have His Carcase (1932) [read 10/2/11]
9. Hangman's Holiday (1933) [Short Story Collection incl. non-Wimsey stories] (read 10/29)
10. Murder Must Advertise (1933) [read 11/1/11]
11. The Nine Tailors (1934) [read 1/3/11]
12. Gaudy Night (1935) [read 11/23/11]
13. Busman's Honeymoon (1937) [read 11/27/11]
14. In the Teeth of the Evidence (1939) [read the final Wimsey stories 11/27/11]
15. Striding Folly (1972) [read 11/27/11]

If I have time, I may also complete the bonus...reading the Wimsey stories completed and wholly written by Jill Paton Walsh. We'll see--but my commitment has been met.

The Final Lord Peter Stories

I finished up the remainder of the Lord Peter stories--using the complete Wimsey short stories collected in Lord Peter. Once the book comes in from the library, I'll finish the entire book In the Teeth of Evidence (just so I can finish all the Sayers fiction). Otherwise, I have fulfilled the intention of the As My Whimsy Takes Me Challenge--which challenged us to read all of the Wimsey stories. Here's a run-down of the remaining short stories.

"In the Teeth of Evidence": Lord Peter goes to his dentist for a filling and finds himself involved in a mystery he can really sink his teeth into. His dentist is called in to identify a man who has died in a blazing fire...only his dental records can prove his identity. And it's up to Lord Peter to help prove if it was death by accident or suicide....or even murder.

"Absolutely Elsewhere": In which Lord Peter proves that a murderer just might be able to travel at the speed of light.

"Striding Folly": This one has a bit of the mystic about it. A man has a dream which appears to be strangely prophetic about the murder of his neighbor. Except it didn't predict that he would be accused! Lord Peter comes to the rescue, of course!

"The Haunted Policeman": The story of the poor policeman who saw a house numbered thirteen where no thirteen ought to be and a murdered man where no one has been murdered. Lord Peter helps him prove that he wasn't drunk nor delusional.

"Talboys": In which, Bredon, Lord Peter's eldest, steals peaches, is punished and wrongly accused of stealing peaches a second time. While Lord Peter helps track down the rightful culprits, Miss Quirk, guest of the Wimseys and an errant amateur psychologist, finds that practicing psychology on a family of Wimsey boys may not be the best of ideas.


A delightful collection of short stories to round out the Wimsey canon. Not much mystery, but lots of great characters and insight into life in the Wimsey household after Busman's Honeymoon. Four stars.

Busman's Honeymoon: Review

Just a warning....possible spoilers for anyone who hasn't read the Sayers books that precede this one.


So...Lord Peter finally gets the girl. Well, we knew that at the end of Gaudy Night...what with them kissing madly in the middle of Oxford and all. But this one seals the deal. The book begins with the details of the months leading up to the wedding, the wedding itself, and on to the honeymoon. Not that Sayers is so gauche as to reveal ALL about the wedding night, but it's abundantly obvious that our favorite lord and his new lady have quite a nice time of it.

The mystery fun begins the next day when the body of their neglectful host is found in the basement. It soon becomes clear that the reason the honeymoon house was not prepared was because Mr. Noakes has been dead for almost a week. Harriet rather wishes that Peter need not be bothered with all this murder business while on his honeymoon--if only because it will bring the mobs of reporters descending upon them--but soon realizes that his "job" is something they will need to come to terms with if theirs is to be happy marriage.

What follows is, as Sayers notes in the subtitle, A Love Story with Detective Interruptions. We follow Peter and Harriet as they sort out how their love story will begin and in the intervals they pick up clue after clue that will ultimately lead to the discovery of the culprit. However, the point of the story is not the murder. The point is love and marriage and what Sayers thought was the ideal way for two adults to sort things out.

The mystery isn't a very deep one and it shouldn't be hard for anyone to spot the criminal. But the detective story is not the reason I can read this novel (or any of Sayers' mysteries, for that matter) over and over again. I read them for the language and the characters and their interactions. Rereading Busman's Honeymoon, I was struck once more about how delightful the opening chapter is. It is told entirely in letters and excerpts from the Dowager Duchess's diary and I chuckle over it every single time. The voices of the various characters--from Peter's insufferable sister-in-law to the irrepressible Countess of Severn and Thames--are so distinct and vibrant. And the images they convey are such a hoot--can anyone who has read the stories not snort over the picture of the "hell-hound" reporters trying bribe Bunter? Or Peter and Harriet composing rude rhymes in order to get rid of Helen (the insufferable sister-in-law)?

I love this book. And can only regret that it is the last full-length novel written entirely by Dorothy L Sayers. The books penned by Jill Paton Walsh just aren't the same. Five stars.

Gaudy Night: Review

Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers is set almost entirely at Oxford. Alma mater of Lord Peter Wimsey, the fictional version of Oxford University also houses Shrewsbury College--the educational home of Harriet Vane. The all-female college is experiencing a bout of particularly poison pen letters and malicious practical jokes. The warden of the college does not wish to bring in the police and produce unwanted publicity for the school, so she calls upon Harriet Vane to use the knowledge gained as a mystery writer to bear upon the problem. Using the annual Gaudy (a reunion of "old girls" of the college) and later a research project as cover, Harriet begins her investigations. But the mystery proves to be a deep one and Harriet finds it necessary to call upon Lord Peter for help. While wrestling with the problems of the nasty "ghost" of the college, she must also wrestle with her feelings for Peter. Oxford provides the perfect backdrop for the final stages of the romance between these two intelligent characters.

Rereading Sayers is always wonderful. She is the author of my comfort reads. I go to her for superb character development, lucid prose, literary quotes and allusions, and underlying humor. This one is also marvelous for its academic setting. I feel as though I've had the grand tour of Oxford; granted, it's Oxford of another era--but that makes it even more appealing. Gaudy Night stands out for me because of the setting and because, as a quote collector, there are so many tidbits that I've snatched for my collection...and I just have to share them with you. Five stars, by the way.

Detachment is a rare virtue, and very few people find it lovable, either in themselves or in others. If you ever find a person who likes you in spite of it—still more, because of it—that liking has very great value, because it is perfectly sincere, and because, with that person, you will never need to be anything but sincere yourself.

~Miss de Vine (pp. 34-5)

…they [men] want a bit to get used to the change. Why, it takes a man months and months to reconcile himself to a new hat. And just when you’re preparing to send it to the jumble sale, he says, “That’s a rather nice hat you’ve got on, where did you get it?” And you say, “My dear Henry, it’s the one I had last year and you said made me look like an organ-grinder’s monkey.”

~the Dean (p. 50)

I have the most ill-regulated memory. It does those things which it ought not to have done, and leaves undone the thing it ought to have done. But it has not yet gone on strike altogether.

~Lord Peter Wimsey (p. 56)

My subconscious has a most treacherous imagination. It’s disquieting to reflect that one’s dreams never symbolize one’s real wishes, but always something Much Worse.

If I really wanted to be passionately embraced by Peter, I should dream of something like dentists or gardening. I wonder what are the unthinkable depths of awfulness that can only be expressed by the polite symbol of Peter’s embraces.

~Harriet Vane (p. 92)

HV: Then why do it?

RP: I don’t know. Why does one do idiotic things?

HV: Why?...I’ll tell you why, Mr. Pomfret. Because you haven’t the guts to say no when somebody asks you to be a sport. That tom-fool word has got more people in trouble than all the rest of the dictionary put together. If it’s sporting to encourage girls to break rules and drink more than they can carry and get themselves into a mess on your account, then I’d stop being a sport and try being a gentleman.

~Harriet Vane, Reggie Pomfret (p. 119)

HV: But suppose one doesn’t know [what] one wants to put first….

MdV: You usually can tell…by seeing what kind of mistakes you make. I’m quite sure that one never makes fundamental mistakes about the thing one really wants to do. Fundamental mistakes arise out of lack of genuine interest…the big proof is that the thing comes right without those fundamental errors. One always makes surface errors, of course. But a fundamental error is a sure sign of not caring.

~Harriet Vane, Miss de Vine (pp. 149-50)

HV: I suppose one oughtn’t to marry anybody, unless one’s prepared to make him a full-time job.

MdV: I suppose not; though there are a few rare people, I believe, who don’t look on themselves as jobs but as fellow-creatures.

~Harriet Vane, Miss de Vine (p. 151)

MD: …I had particular orders to hunt out Saint-George’s Niersteiner ’23 [wine] and mention Uncle Peter in connection with it. Is that right? I don’t know whether Uncle Peter bought it or recommended it or merely enjoyed it, or what he had to do with it, but that’s what I was supposed to say.

HV: [laughing] If he did any of those things, it’ll be all right.

~Mr. Danvers, Harriet Vane (p. 153)

SG: Perhaps I’d better accustom myself to saying “Aunt Harriet”…what’s wrong with that? You simply can’t refuse to be an adopted aunt to me. My Aunt Mary has gone all domestic and hasn’t time for me and my mother’s sisters are the original gorgons. I’m dreadfully unappreciated and auntless for all practical purposes.

HV: You deserve neither aunts nor uncles, considering how you treat them.

~Saint-George, Harriet Vane (p. 172)

However loudly we may assert our own unworthiness, few of us are really offended by hearing the assertion contradicted by a disinterested party. (p. 209)

It was quite true that the spontaneous affections of Reggie Pomfret had, somehow, made it easier to believe that Peter’s own feelings might be something more than an artist’s tenderness for his own achievement. But it was indecent of Peter to reach that conclusion so rapidly. She resented the way in which he walked in and out of her mind as if it were his own flat. (p. 244)

She was taken aback, not by what he said, but by his saying it. She had never imagined that he regarded her work very seriously, and she had certainly not expected him to take this attitude about it. The protective male? He was about as protective as a can opener. (p. 256)

Lord, teach us to take our hearts and look them in the face, however difficult it may be. (p. 257)

The great advantage about telling the truth is that nobody ever believes it.

~Lord Peter Wimsey (p. 276)

For some reason, this affair of a mop and a bucket seemed to have made Padgett Peter’s slave for life. Men were very odd. (p. 297)

If people will bring dynamite into a powder factory, they must expect explosions.

~Miss Edwards (p.313)

For about five minutes, Harriet was the prey of that kind of speechless rage which is beyond expression or control. If she had thought of it, she was at that moment in a mood to sympathize with the Poltergeist and all her works. If she could have beaten or strangled anybody, she would have done it and felt better for it. (p. 336)

You have had the luck to come up against a very unselfish and very honest man. He has done what you asked him without caring what it cost him and without shirking the issue.

~Miss de Vine (p. 376)

But when you have come to a conclusion about all this, will you remember that it was I who asked you to take a dispassionate view, and I who told you that of all the devils let loose in the world there was no devil like devoted love….I don’t mean passion. Passion is a good stupid brute that will pull the plough six days a week if you give him the run of his heels on Sundays. But love’s a nervous, over-mastering brute, if you can’t rein him, it’s best to have no truck with him.

~Lord Peter Wimsey to Harriet Vane (p. 332)

I had found you…beyond all hope or expectation at a time when I thought that no woman could ever mean more to me beyond a little easy sale and exchange of pleasure. And I was so terrified of losing you before I could grasp you that I babbled out all my greed and fear as though, God help me, you had nothing to think of but me and my windy self-importance. As though it mattered. As though the very word of love had not been the most crashing insolence a man could offer you.

~Lord Peter Wimsey (p. 379)

I do know that the worst sin—perhaps the only sin—passion can commit is to be joyless. It must lie down with laughter or make its bed in hell—there is no middle way. Don’t, for God’s sake, ever think you owe me anything. If I can’t have the real thing, I can make do with imitation. But I will not have surrenders or crucifixions….If you have come to feel any kindness for me at all, tell me you would never make me that offer again.

~Lord Peter Wimsey (pp. 379-80)

P: Harriet, you know that I love you: will you marry me?

H: Tell me one thing, Peter, will it make you desperately unhappy if I say no?

P: Desperately?…My dear, I will not insult either you or myself with a word like that. I can only tell you that if you will marry me it will give me very great happiness.

~Lord Peter, Harriet (p. 383)

Murder Must Advertise: Review

I've always liked Murder Must Advertise. Maybe it's because Mr. Hankin is almost a relation. Maybe it's because LPW goes undercover. Maybe it's because he comes up with the most hilarious ad campaigns. Maybe it's the image of him "seeing red" when whacked on the elbow in the cricket game and blowing his cover--he goes in as Death Bredon, but retires from the game as Lord Peter Wimsey, master cricketer. I don't know. But it's truly good stuff and I was delighted to dip into it again on my way through the works of Dorothy L Sayers.

In this outing, there is something rotten in Pym's Publicity--and it's not over cooked "Peabody's Porridge." Victor Dean, a not-so-popular copy-writer at Pym's, has taken a deadly fall down an iron staircase--leaving behind evidence that he had come across some rather nasty doings at the oh-so-respectable place of business. Enter Mr. Death Bredon, a rather Bertie Wooster; money-come-down-in-the-world sort, who seems to be a friend of the boss and whom no one expects to make a copy writer. They would be wrong. Mr. Bredon seems to have a flair for bon mot turned advertising slogan and a way with witty literary quotes and puns. Just the thing to make the client's advertising heart all a-flutter. He also seems to have a nose for gossip and soon has turned the entire staff inside out on the subject of Dean and the deadly staircase.

Little does Pym's know that they are nursing a detective in sheep's clothing and in their midst is none other than Lord Peter Wimsey that aristocratic sleuth-hound. Hot on the scent, Wimsey discovers that Dean was right and porridge and sanitizers and household supplies aren't the only things being advertised in Pym's campaigns. Before he's uncovered the entire scheme, there will be run-ins with bright young things and dope dealers; there will be masquerades and unmaskings....and, of course, a spot of murder.

This is a grand story. Lots of action, and yet lots of the Sayers wit and smooth writing. As with some of her short stories, this is Sayers at play. Surely no one in the world really believes that Wimsey could get away with such an obvious impersonation--not as well-known as he is. But we willingly suspend our disbelief in order to join in the fun.

I love the inside look at the advertising game. All true-to-life, as Sayers spent time in the advertising world--and much of it could be said of the game today. As Wimsey says: "Of course, there is some truth in advertising. There's yeast in bread, but you can't make bread with yeast alone. Truth in advertising is like leaven, which a woman hid in three measures of meal. It provides a suitable quantity of gas, with which to blow out a mass of crude misrepresentations into a form that the public can swallow." Listening to "Bredon" and his fellow copy-writers toss around slogans is highly entertaining and well worth the read--even if the story weren't so good. Which it is. Four stars.

*Oh, and for those of you who are Harriet Vane fans and miss her in this one. There is a brief reference: He [Wimsey] grinned with a wry mouth, and went out to keep his date with the one young woman who showed no signs of yielding to him....

Hangman's Holiday: Review

Back to Dorothy L Sayers for a quick and comfortable read. I'm still working my way through her Lord Peter Wimsey stories for the As My Whimsy Takes Me Reading Challenge. Hangman's Holiday is a mixed bag collection of Sayers' short stories. We are offered four LPW shorts, six stories featuring Montague Egg (traveling salesman for Plummet & Rose, Wine & Spirts), and two stand-alone stories. My second (or third or whatever) go round on the stories wasn't quite as exciting as I recall my initial reading having been.

This collection features "The Incredible Elopement of Lord Peter Wimsey" (a story I read earlier this year in Great British Detectives). In it, we find my favorite aristocratic sleuth in one of his rare adventures outside England. Lord Peter becomes interested in a rather grotesque revenge--plotted and carried out in the Basque region of northern Spain. It is up to Lord Peter to rescue a damsel in distress from the evil machinations of her jealous husband.

The other Wimsey stories are:

"The Image in the Mirror": where Wimsey meets a young man on a train journey who believes he has been turned into a mirror image of himself--possibly an evil, murderous version.

"The Queen's Square": in which the White Queen is murdered at a costume ball and it seems as though no one could have done it.

"The Necklace of Pearls": in which a valuable string of perfectly matched pearls goes missing at a classic country Christmas party. It is up to Wimsey to "see" where they've gone before the culprit can make off with them permanently.

Montague Egg stories:

"The Poisoned Dow '08": in which Monty proves how it was possible to poison Lord Borrodale with a never before opened bottle of wine.

"Sleuths on the Scent": in which Monty helps the police get their man with a bottle of Parma Violets.

"Murder in the Morning": where a murderer is found out through Monty's observations of the gas station and a clock.

"One Too Many": in which Monty explains how two men can travel on one train ticket.

"Murder at Pentecost": listen as Monty tells the old story of the boy who cried "Wolf!"

"Maher-Shalal-Hashbz": in which Monty is suspicious of the crazy cat man. Who needs that many cats, anyway?

Stand-alones (both stories of men driven to murder, rather than about the capture of a criminal):

"The Man Who Knew How": What would you do if a stranger told you about a fool-proof method to commit murder?

"The Fountain Plays": Once a blackmailee, always a blackmailee. OR How a little bit of murder won't solve your problems.

These stories are Sayers at play. They're whimsical and fantastic. Sometimes downright unreal. some are better than others. But they're great fun and not to be missed if you're a Sayers fan. Three stars.

Have His Carcase: Review

Dorothy L Sayers is always a comfort read for me. I've had a love affair going on with Lord Peter for about 30 years now. And I return to his stories whenever I need a pick-me-up. And, boy, did I need a pick-me-up after making my way through Middlemarch!

Have His Carcase was just the tonic that the doctor would have ordered (had I consulted him). We have Harriet Vane, mystery writer and recently acquitted of murdering her former lover, on a walking tour to shake off the horrors of having been on trial for her life. She takes a break from walking to have lunch on a beach and discovers a body on a local rock formation--known as the Devil's Flat Iron. The man's throat has been cut and the blood has not even begun to clot and there are no footprints in the sand except Harriet's and the man's. It's obvious that the tide is coming in quickly and there will be no time to fetch help before the body will be washed away into the sea. Harriet, using her detective novelist skills, notes as much about the man as possible, gathers up various items (shoe, hat, etc) and takes a whole roll of film on her travel camera to record the scene. She then makes her way to the nearest phone (after much travail) to report the incident to the police.

Enter Lord Peter Wimsey. Who comes "as a bird to its mate"--to the body, Harriet, to the body. His friend Salcombe Hardy has tipped him the wink about Harriet's adventures and Peter is all set to get to the bottom of the mystery (and, incidentally, ask Harriet to marry him). And mystery there is--what looks to be a simple suicide soon becomes very complicated. Why did the man sit on the rock for over two hours before killing himself? Why did he wear gloves...and buy a return train ticket...and take his door key when he didn't take anything else with him? Where did he get the razor--a man who never shaves certainly doesn't need one. Matters become even more mysterious--with Bolsheviks and communist school teachers, jealous lovers (of the man's former girlfriend), and a future step-son who was none too keen on having "a lounge lizard" papa. There's the suspicious camper in Hink's Lane and the mare that got loose and the fisherman who was in a boat in sight of the beach at the relevant times--and who is definitely not telling all he knows. And an itinerant barber who has an odd little tale to tell. There are 300 pounds (British pounds, not weight) of gold coins to be found and a secret code to be broken. Things certainly aren't dull in the watering hole at Wilvercombe.

I just plain love reading the Sayers novels. There is so much wit and humor throughout that it really is a comfortable sort of book to sink into. Especially since this is the umpteenth reread and I really didn't have to use up brain power trying to follow all that "decipher the code" business. That would be one of my quibbles with this particular story (with the previous book, Five Red Herrings, it was the time tables)--way too much time spent on the intricate methods of deciphering this particular cipher. I have to confess that I skimmed right through that part this time 'round. I think the filmed version with Edward Petherbridge and Harriet Walter does an excellent job of condensing this scene down--although, it may make it seem a little too easy.

My favorite bits are when Peter finally gets to dance with Harriet, their stroll along the beach looking for clues, and when she thinks she may have been kissed by a murderer. I also like the wrap-up at the end when Harriet begins offering up various other fictional detectives (Roger Sheringham, Dr. Thorndyke, etc) and their methods as possible ways to find the solution. Exciting stuff all around and an excellent read. Four stars.

Favorite quotes:
Darling, if you danced like an elderly elephant with arthritis, I would dance the sun and the moon into the sea with you. I have waited a thousand years to see you dance in that frock. (Lord Peter to Harriet)

When I kiss you it will be an important event--one of those things which stand out among their surroundings like the first time you taste li-chee. (Lord Peter to Harriet)

Like all male creatures Wimsey was a simple soul at bottom.