Cornelis
Buddingh' was a Dutch poet, critic, chess player, translator and a
connoisseur of detective stories who translated novels by Herbert
Brean, Leslie Charteris
and Ethel
Lina White into Dutch and some of his reviews
can be read on the DBNL website – discussing writers like Agatha
Christie, Ellery
Queen and Zelda
Popkin. Although I was not a fan of him trashing John
Dickson Carr's writing or describing Sir Henry Merrivale as a "vage houten klaas" ("a sketchy wooden Punch
puppet").
During
the early 1950s, Buddingh' opined that, "if the Dutch detective
wants to have its own atmosphere and character," the Dutch
detective story has "to have a Dutch setting, populated with
Dutch characters, where a murder committed by a Dutchman is solved."
You have to remember that a big chunk of our pre-WWII detective
fiction took place on foreign soil and this slowly began to change
towards the end of the 1940s, which had absolutely nothing to do with
us losing the colonies. We were planning to go home anyway. So with
the detective story coming home, the 1950s became a short-lived
Golden Age for Dutch detective fiction. A fact I've only recently
uncovered and it lead me to A.R. Brent's Voorzichtig
behandelen (Handle with Care, 1948) and W.H. van
Eemlandt's Kogels
bij het dessert (Dessert with Bullets, 1954), which is
why I reviewed them back-to-back last month.
A
year after his public proclamation on the future of the Dutch
detective story, Buddingh' published his own detective novel, Vrijwel
op slag (Almost Instantly, 1953), but as we all known,
it's easier to be a critic than a craftsman – something the noted
mystery critic and author Anthony
Boucher could have attested to (e.g. Rocket
to the Morgue, 1942). Buddingh' was already on thin ice with
me for badmouthing Carr (pure heresy!). So let's see if he was as
good at putting a plot together as he was in picking them apart.
Buddingh'
picked as his detective the son of the former Chief Commissioner of
Rotterdam, Rokus Huet, who's studying medicine in Amsterdam, but
prefers to spent most of his time procrastinating or playing chess.
Huet looks with horror at his future as a doctor and having to rise
before noon. When the story opens, Huet is visiting an old friend in
Gouda, Inspector Karel Jonkman, who's an artistically-inclined
detective who donned a police uniform to honor the memory of his
father, but his heart wasn't fully dedicated to the job. What he
really wanted to do was paint.
During
his stay with Jonkman, Huet is introduced to a local painter and
friend of the inspector, Gerard van Gelderen, "who swears by
Picasso" and they meet a young couple when visiting the artist
at his studio, Marius Weekenstro and Elly Kreukniet – more or less
secretly engaged. And upon hearing Jonkman is a police inspector,
Marius seizes to opportunity to complain about Elly's uncle and legal
guardian, Jochem Kreukniet. Kreukniet is a legal adviser who
reputedly made his small fortune with blackmail and collaborated with
the Nazis during the occupation, but at home, he acts like
Victorian-era domestic despot and treats his niece with "a
subtle sadism" that translated in Nelly being "bullied and
harassed and humiliated" on a daily basis. And he's assisted in
this by his wicked housekeeper, Ms. Gonda Luning. Generally, she's
kept on a very tight lease and her uncle even sicced the police on
Marius, because they kept seeing each other every opportunity they
got. This is why Elly is taking drawing lessons in secret.
Jochem
Kreukniet is practically tailormade to be the victim and, two days
later, he's indeed murdered at his home with a blow to the back of
the head, but his murderer didn't stop there. The murderer emptied an
ashtray over the body, placed a folded one gulden bill in his
lapel and drew a circle with purple lipstick on his forehead!
Jonkman
and Huet quickly catch on that there were a lot of people, personal
and professional, who had a reason to beat Kreukniet into an early
grave. De Lange (didn't catch a first name) is Kreukniet's slippery
business partner, who badly needed money, but their partnership had
begun to deteriorate and Kreukniet had hinted that he was going to be
cut out of his will. But there were also three women in his life who
had either lost something or stood to gain tremendously. Eliza
Westvaan is new, very posh, secretary and could have been the future
Mrs. Kreukniet. She had pushed Kreukniet's previous secretary and
mistress out of the picture, Okkie Maffel. The third woman was
actually the first Mrs. Kreukniet and she inherited her ex-husband's
house and nearly half of his fortune.
Almost
Instantly is pretty much a by-the-numbers whodunit with a
slightly eccentric detective, an official police inspector, a body, a
small circle of suspects, some bizarre clues and detective work
mainly contained to interviews – occasionally testing an alibi or
clearing up a side-thread. Naturally, this wasn't helped by the fact
that nearly everyone was up to something around the time of the
murder. Some of which took place around the scene of the crime. I
think you can best compare Almost Instantly to a competent,
but fairly average, Christopher
Bush novel from the same period. Not bad, but not outstanding.
So,
technically, Buddingh' succeeded in writing a genuine detective
novel, but stylistically, Almost Instantly isn't a Dutch
detective novel. It's a British detective novel with a Dutch setting
and Dutch characters. You can't miss how much Buddingh' was
influenced by the British Golden Age mystery writers and there was
even a bookshelf scene in which Huet sees a whole row of Dorothy
L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, Margery
Allingham, Nicholas
Blake, Edmund
Crispin and Michael
Innes novels. Huet identifies them as "his own favorite
authors in the genre," but the explanation makes it even more
obvious. Such as the choice of murderer and (uncommon) motive, which
recalls a certain mystery writer and the reason why the murderer
planted those strange clues on the body had been used before by Carr.
Carr executed that idea better and with much more subtly than
Buddingh'. Not so easy, is it? :D
A
second, stylistic, flaw are the nonsensical names of some of the
characters. I'll admit that it was mildly amusing to name the victim
Kreukniet (does not crease) and have him bludgeoned to death, but it
didn't help give the story that authentic Dutch character Buddingh'
had been pleading for the year previously. You would think that was
the one thing he wanted to do with Almost Instantly.
So,
yes, technically, Almost Instantly is a decent and solid
enough detective novel with a well hidden murderer, who can still be
spotted, but most of the story travels over territory that had been
trampled during the first half of the previous century and only
difference is that it was written in another language – even that
was done with a distinctly English accent. Nevertheless, it's always
a pleasure to read an honest to God detective novel in my own
language, which makes its blandness a little more forgivable.
Tantalisingly obscure as usual. It is a shame that the DBNL website does not have an English language option, (or if it does I cannot see it), as I would be interested to read what Buddingh' thought of the likes of Christie etc.
ReplyDeleteHere's a link to the DBNL website with his reviews via Google translate (Kacey beat me to it): translate.google.com/translate?sl=nl&tl=en&u=www.dbnl.org/tekst/_adi001194701_01/_adi001194701_01_0165.php%23165
DeleteThe translation is a little clunky, but you'll be able to read his reviews.
Thank you Tomcat! Very helpful of you to find this for me.
DeleteThis novel sounds like Buddingh's own assessment of Murder in the Mist: "not one to recomend, but not one to warn about either." (The translation may be off, as I just used Google Translate.)
ReplyDeleteAlthough I was not a fan of him trashing John Dickson Carr's writing or describing Sir Henry Merrivale as a "vage houten klaas."
I've been reading a bit of Boucher's criticism and, although I've always thought of him first and foremost as a mystery writer, it's becoming clear to me just how lucky we are to have had him as a writer about mysteries. He was a perceptive critic and his judgment was consistently sound, especially when compared with, say, Symons or Barzun (both of whom could be, shall we say, a bit eccentric in their judgments). As for Buddingh, he earns points for liking Sayers and Innes, but his cracks about Carr ("If John Dickson Carr, who also publishes extensively under the pseudonym Carter Dickson, could write better, he would be one of the very best detective authors.") and Nero Wolfe ("I don't like Nero Wolfe, I find him exceptional in an annoying way, and I don't like his assistant, who I find mundane in an annoying way") do not speak well of his taste nor his critical judgment.
This one is miles ahead of Zelda Popkin's Murder in the Mist and fairly decent as a typical, British-style whodunit told with a distinctly English accent. Only reason why that became a flaw is Buddginh' arguing for a typical Dutch detective story with an unmistakable Dutch character and Dutch characters. Buddingh' is a case in point that picking apart a plot, or even characterization, is so much easier than creating something yourself.
DeleteBoucher is my favorite mystery critic and The Anthony Boucher Chronicles: Reviews and Commentary a small treasure trove, which I value as much as Adey and Skupin's Locked Room Murders. Boucher could be a harsh, unforgiving critic (him rage reading Clifford Knight is funny), but he was always fair and when he heaped praise on a writer, or novel, you better add that name or title to your wishlist.
"...do not speak well of his taste nor his critical judgment."
You mean that Buddingh' was just like us? Someone who loved to read detective stories and disagreed with the perceived wisdom of other fans? He would fit right in with our crew! :D
I'm kinda hoping to get The Anthony Boucher Chronicles for Christmas. It'll be a big help in navigating the vintage paperback sections once the bookstores are safe again. Of course, it's also just great fun to read his reviews. I wish more papers still had that sort of review column.
DeleteI should stress that my remarks about Buddingh' were meant to apply only within the context of fair-play mystery criticism. That is to say that A: he's way ahead of those critics who look down upon the mystery as sub-literary, and B: that even within that sphere, he's still ahead of those who disdain the puzzle plot. At any rate, I can't dislike a critic who goes on the record saying "I don't think the later Queens are nearly as good as the earlier ones: they are much less 'problems in deduction.'" I'm just saying that if his opinions had agreed more strongly with mine, he'd have been right far more often. ;D
(By the way, do you know how you're supposed to double-quote a quotation that ends on a single-quote? I may have done it incorrectly, but I have no clue what would be correct.)
You mean quotes in the comments? Just click reply and copy/paste part of the comment you want to respond to.
Delete"I'm just saying that if his opinions had agreed more strongly with mine, he'd have been right far more often. ;D "
I've been saying that for years about various people!
The quote from Buddingh' that I used ended in the phrase 'problems in deductuion' which is surrounded by 'single-quotes.' But when you quote something you surround it with "double-quotes." So, in this case, I wound up with "'something ending in three quotation marks.'" I can't tell if that's right or not.
DeleteI've been saying that for years about various people!
Now if only they would listen! ;)