Showing posts with label Isaac Asimov. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isaac Asimov. Show all posts

4/21/13

The Metafiction Murder Case


"Coincidences are the worst enemies of the truth."
- Gaston Leroux (The Mystery of the Yellow Room, 1907) 
Just recently, I reviewed Matt Forbeck's The Con Job (2012), the first in a series of tie-in books picking up where Leverage, canned after its fifth season, left off and the crew's incursion of Comic-Con in order to take down a mark reminded me that I had another mystery novel knocking about that treaded similar ground.

Murder at the ABA (1976) is one of the more conventional mysteries I have read by that most unconventional author of detective stories, Isaac Asimov, and yet, it's far from an ordinary affair or run-of-the-mill. What struck me first about Murder at the ABA were the flashes of "Had-I-But-Known" preceding the discovery of the body, describing everyday trivialities that ended up being flagstones that paved the way for death, something that could've easily been staved off if one of those moments had played out differently or simply had not occurred – which is an unusual approach for a mystery not penned and/or narrated by a female.

Anyway, the dominos began to fall when Darius Just, our five feet two writer and narrator, arrives too late at the 75th annual convention of the American Booksellers Association (ABA) to help out a friend, but before the day is through, he's inundated with requests to talk to his former protégé, Giles Devore.

Giles Devore is what we refer to now as a "Man Child," rising to fame as an author after Just assisted in whipping his first manuscript into shape that gradually became a success story upon its publication. However, there's precious little gratitude for the independent publishing house and small booksellers that took a risk by promoting him, and now he wants to sweep them from his coattail, which gives a lot of people ample motivation to do him – that's what Darius Just believes when he finds Devore's body in the bathtub of his hotel room. There’s also the pile of heroin Just found in the hotel room, before someone swiped it away, and the complex-ridden victim himself, who can not sleep with a woman unless she undresses and baths him like a child, and calling the woman in question "mommy," gives Just and the reader enough angles to keep them guessing what happened.

It’s not the plot that’s the most appealing feature of Murder at the ABA, but its self-awareness as a work of fiction and Just’s interaction with Isaac Asimov – who’s there to do research for his next book, Murder at the ABA. The book is even dedicated to a friend on whom he modeled Darius Just, fellow SF-writer Harlan Ellison, but I have to admit, Asimov’s depiction of his friend wasn’t exactly flattering at times. Not at all like the good-natured chops he saved for himself, but hey, you’re supposed to roast the ones you love.

That being said, the metafictional excesses became a bit wearing after Asimov and Just decided to carry on their light-hearted banter in the footnotes of the story. It stopped being cute after the third of fourth one, but alas, they are there to accompany you to final chapters.

Murder at the ABA was not an unentertaining and at times even interesting detective story with a plot that was basically hung upon "the blinkin' cussedness of things in general," which was better than the suicide-disguised-as-murder explanation that I was dreading – even if it lacked the dearth of clues that put the suicide theory in my head. There are, IMHO, few things worse in a detective novel than have the murder that fueled the plot be revealed as an elaborately staged suicide and I'm glad that Asimov didn't opt for that conclusion. In short: neither extremely good nor awefully bad, but just an average plot that shined a bit brighter due to the unusual approach of its author. 

5/3/12

Sympathy for the Devil

"A subtle thought that is in error may yet give rise to fruitful inquiry that can establish truths of great value."
- Isaac Asimov.
Isaac Asimov (1920-1992)
I'm aware of the fact that my ranting and ravings on the genre have the tendency to sound like the mimicry of a broken record, but rest assured, this post is not going to play that tune again – especially after the closing paragraphs of the previous review posted on here. I've had my say on that and it remains all there's to say. Instead, I want to play Devil's Advocate for a moment and plea on behalf of Isaac Asimov, one of the most popular science-fiction writers of the 20th century, whose work as a chronicler of the future and status as the mystery genre's resident visitor may have prevented him from being identified as one of the most important mystery writers from the post-WWII era.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I would like, if you would, to have you join me as we take a retrospective look at the career of my client, which, in itself, will prove two things; (1) Asimov was an innovator (2) who found a weird, but satisfying, balance between the banality of everyday reality and the improbable fantasies of the detective story that can be enjoyed by connoisseurs of vintage mysteries as well as their bugbears who prefer their plots larded with realism. Case in point, Asimov's series of short stories featuring an exclusive dinner club, who refer to themselves as the Black Widowers, who assemble once a month in the private room of a restaurant to grill the guest of the evening and nibble appreciative on a gourmet meal – as the conversation inevitably turns to a problem that presses heavily on the peace of mind of their guest.

A handful of stories deal with serious crimes, such as murder and espionage, but the lion's share is focused on problems that might baffle you and me in our day-to-day life. For example, in "The Cross of Lorraine" the members are trying to help a love-struck magician (a thinly disguised James Randi appearing here under the stage name the Amazing Larri) in figuring out where a woman got off the bus and "Lost in a Space Warp" has the armchair detectives looking for a science-fiction writers missing umbrella, but it's their waiter and honorable member Henry who fulfills the role of Sherlock Holmes when it comes to providing an answer to these petty problems. Which is sort of funny, since, this being a series of armchair puzzles, he's the only character who's always on his feet. A subtle wink at the storybook detectives?

But not every guest who received an invitation for one of their monthly banquets brought a baffling, but trivial, conundrum to the table, such as was the case in "The Obvious Factor," when skeptic and paranormal investigator Voss Eldridge gave a repot of the one incident that he could not rationally explain and it turns the detective story on its ear – accurately and neatly deconstructing the impossible crime story and believers in supernatural phenomenon. I've read comments from readers who condemned this story as a cheat because it broke with one of the fundamental rules, but it's not like it was the first time that rule was broken and you should never fault a mystery writer when he uses your own assumptions to lead you down the garden path. However, even when Asimov took on a more conventional impossible situation, like the miraculous disappearance of a women from a restaurant as described in "The Redhead," he managed to come up with a believable, if somewhat simplistic, answer that would pry loose a "yeah, I buy that" from even the staunchest critics of the locked room mystery. Asimov arguably succeeded with this series to comply with the modern wish for drab, everyday realism without completely dismantling the traditional detective story format.

The books and stories featuring the Earth cop Elijah Baley and the Spacer robot R. Daneel Olivaw are a lot less realistic, set in a far and distant future on either a desolate Earth or among the stars that dot the night sky, but they are Asimov's best and most groundbreaking works in the genre – as they were among the first genre benders where the Sci-Fi and Mystery Genre's met on equal terms. The Caves of Steel (1954) is an absolute masterpiece, not only because it's a textbook example of the hybrid-mystery done right, but also for demonstrating that the advent of technology does not have to negate clever plotting – which is an argument that is occasionally flung at the puzzle aspect of detective stories when attempting to deconstruct it. If Asimov can do it, employing futuristic, made-up technology, such as mind probes and humanoid robots, than it should also be possible with contemporary forensic science/technology like DNA profiling and computer forensics. Not to mention those Golden Age fogies who had no problem adjusting their plots to fingerprinting, ballistics and chemical analysis. It should also be noted this novel made wonderful use of the multiple solution device made famous by Anthony Berkeley and Ellery Queen.

The Naked Sun (1957) is a sequel to The Caves of Steel, in which Elijah and Daneel travel to the colonized planet Solaria, one of the Outer Worlds, where the robots outnumber to their Spacer owners on its thinly populated surface – and these descends of Earth have cultivated an aversion for personal contact and communicate solely through distant viewing. This, however, has not prevented one of them from murdering a prominent genetic scientist but how? It's a interesting turn on both the closed-circle of suspects and the locked room mystery and it's often tagged as the superior of the two novels. Unfortunately, the detective elements were being phased out in The Robots of Dawn (1983) to make place for social commentary and allowed the science-fiction element to usurp the plot and Robots and Empire (1985) is a full-fledge SF novel.

One of Asimov's collection of short stories, Asimov's Mysteries (1968), harbors another interesting attempt at snatching bodies from comfy drawing rooms or dimly lit alleys and shooting them to the stars, except for one person, the detective – an eccentric extraterrologist named Wendell Urth who refuses to leave Earth. Some of the celebrated cases brought to this Earth-bound space-sleuth from the deep reaches of outer space include the first murder on the Moon and deciphering the dying words of an alien creature. Admittedly, they are not among his best stories, but they are fun and something different for a change and who else but Asimov could turn an entire planet into an armchair for his detective? This collection also contains a wonderful stand-alone story, entitled "Obituary," in which an unpleasant scientist unlocks the secrets of time travel and is almost as good as Anthony Boucher's "Elsewhen" – a story with a similar theme as "Obituary."

Regrettably, this is where I must end my plea for the simple reason that I'm a lousy lawyer who has not read all the available material, like The Union Club Mysteries (1983) or the remaining volumes from The Black Widowers, to make a convincing, well-rounded argument with a little more depth and while Murder at the ABA (1976) is on the top of my to-be-read pile why should I have picked that one (with this idea already in my head) when I can also pick an unread John Dickson Carr novel. It would make things just a little bit too easy and convenient for my taste, but the arguments are there: Asimov was a mystery writer who brought a new level of realism to the detective story without abandoning it and wrote a groundbreaking novel with a follow-up that is arguably even better than its more famous predecessor – showing with them that the advancement in forensic science is not a valid argument for dumbing down the genre years before it was made.

So, members of the jury, you have read the evidence put forward in favor of a verdict acknowledging Isaac Asimov as one of the most important mystery writers of the second half of the previous century, instead of a resident visitor, and it's up to you to decide how valid my arguments are. Just keep in mind that I depend on this verdict to get my horns from the Big Man downstairs. Just an FYI. 

5/24/11

Nothing is Impossible!

"The human mind; what a magnificent mechanism! Properly applied it creates miracles. Nothing, basically, is impossible..."
- Brooke (The Newtonian Egg).
Open any anthology of detective stories, published in the pass thirty years, and chances are that most of them contain one or more stories penned by the unequalled Edward D. Hoch – one of the last giants of the genre until he passed away in 2008. He wrote over 900 (!!!) short stories and appeared in every issue of the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine from May 1973 until several months after his death. That's an unbroken streak of publications lasting nearly four decades! But his real legacy will be that of the modern master of the impossible crime story.

He was probably more prolific than John Dickson Carr himself, the acknowledged master of all things impossible, and was just as original as Joseph Commings when it came to finding new ways to dispatch people to the great hereafter that completely flies in the face of reality.

Hoch put his prodigious mind and diabolic creativity to use to create such baffling situations as a man jumping from a skyscraper on the top-floor, disappears in mid-air, and hits the ground several hours later; fresh corpses turning up in recently unearthed coffins and time capsules; an old haunted oak tree with branches that strangles everyone going near it; a man sitting alone in his car is murdered while stuck in a traffic jam and a shower that miraculously starts spitting daggers are only a few examples.

In All But Impossible! (1981), however, he gives the stage to his fellow composers in crime and allows them to show what tricks are hidden up their sleeves. Unfortunately, this collection turned out to be the usual mixed bag of treats and subsequently touches on all the weak and strong points of a short story collection. There are a handful of stories that you'll absolutely love, some will make you want to chuck the darn book across the room, a couple you've probably seen one time too many in other collections and a few of them have no business being there.

But enough of this palaver, let's take them down from the top:

The Shadow of the Goat by John Dickson Carr

This is one of the first impossible crime stories that John Dickson Carr put to paper, for his school news sheet during his undergraduate days, and introduces the first of his recurring detectives: M. Henri Bencolin. He's a cunning prefect of the Parisian police whose coal black eyes, pointed beard and hair parted in the middle and turned up like horns gives him a Mephistophelean appearance – and his menacing ambience strikes fear in the heart of many. However, he has not yet morphed into the theatrical devil of the novels here and merely provides the answer as to how a man could've vanished from a watched room, commit a murder, and disappear a second time during a disturbed attempt at a second murder. The story has all the familiar elements of later day Carr, but misses its refinement. 

There are more of John Dickson Carr's earlier forays into the mystery genre collected in The Door to Doom and Other Detections (1980) – a posthumous compilation showing him grow as a writer from infancy to adulthood. Highly recommended!

The Little House at Croix-Rousse by Georges Simenon (translated by Anthony Boucher)

The literary father of Inspector Maigret wasn't really known for honoring the traditional detective story, but one of his first tales was a full-fledged locked room mystery – in which a man is shot in an empty house surrounded by an observant battalion of policemen. The solution, easily deduced, anticipates John Dickson Carr by nearly a decade, but the whodunit angle leaves its reader with an unnecessary sense of disappointment.

The Problem of the Emperor's Mushrooms by James Yaffe

Paul Dawn, the only member of the Homicide Squad's Department of Impossible Crimes, listens to Professor Bottle's historical account of the murder of the Roman Emperor Claudius – and the impossible angle to his demise. A poison was administered in his favorite dish of mushrooms that didn't affect the Emperor's food-taster, but threw him in a violent convulsion. I reveled at the double layered structure of the story, that runs for only 14 pages, and James Yaffe, who was only sixteen at the time he wrote it, should be commended for it. A thoroughly enjoyable and sagacious story! 

Douglas Greene had the following to say about this series when I asked if the stories were ever collected in a book: "Emperor's Mushrooms is far and away the best of the lot" and "the others have their moments but I don't think the series as a whole is worthy of being bookformed."  

Still, I wish stories like those from the Department of Impossible Crimes were more easily available for sampling to us that represent the next generation of enthusiastic mystery addicts.

From Another World by Clayton Rawson

This story was the result of a sporting challenge between Clayton Rawson and John Dickson Carr, in which they competed against one another to see who could come up with the best possible solution to the following premise: a murder has taken place in a room that's not only locked from the inside, but also completely sealed shut with tape! It's one of Rawson's finest tales and I think it won him this little wager with the grandmaster himself.

You can find John Dickson Carr's answer to this challenge in He Wouldn't Kill Patience (1944) – published under the byline Carter Dickson.

Through a Glass, Darkly by Helen McCloy

A carefully crafted persecution story, in which a young woman lost two great teaching jobs because students and staff were frightened by her ghost-like doppelganger haunting the school grounds. It's an innovative approach to the impossible problem, but like vanishing houses and trains the possible solutions are limited – and every observant reader will stumble to the identity of the perpetrator and motive before the end of the story. However, you can't help but take pleasure in how expertly all the plot threads are tightly woven together. Helen McCloy was an excellent plotter!

This story was extended into a full-length novel and published under the same title in 1950. 

Snowball in July by Ellery Queen

As far as I can tell, finding a logical and rational explanation as to how an entire train, including its cargo of passengers, could've evaporated in between two train stations hasn't been attempted since Sir Arthur Conan Doyle broached the idea in his 1898 short story, "The Lost Special." The solution in this story isn't as spectacular as the one in Doyle's story, but it's one of the few, if not the only, alternative solution to this problem – and it's a workable one at that! 

The Newtonian Egg by Peter Godfrey

The smallest of all locked room mysteries, in which a terminal ill man lectures from his hospital bed on Jacques Futrelle and John Dickson Carr – eats a spoonful of egg, after cracking its perfectly sealed shell, and almost immediately succumbs of cyanide poisoning. So how could poison be introduced in a sealed egg without penetrating its exterior? The answer isn't half as clever as you might expect from such a tantalizing premise and left me a little bit disappointed. The problem required a grander solution.

The Triple-Lock'd Room by Lillian de la Torre

Dr. Sam Johnson and James Boswell try to protect a woman who has confined her concerns regarding the safety of her jewels to them and fix her door with a triple lock, but that didn't stop this apparently invisible prowler from slipping into the room and stabbing her to death. The idea and characters were promising, but the solution De la Torre flings at her readers is one that should've only been uttered by a very dense Hastings-type of character, before being laughed out of the room, or at best proposed as a tongue-in-cheek false solution.

The Brazen Locked Room by Isaac Asimov

This is one of those gimcrack stories that makes you scratch your head in utter amazement at what the anthologist was thinking in adding it to the lineup. It's a pure fantasy tale, in which a miserable man makes a pact with a demon for 10 years of happiness in exchange of becoming a demon himself, and as a final test he has to escape from a solid bronze room – using his newly acquired demonic powers. I kid you not!

The Martian Crown Jewels

The third real dud in a row and another complete waste of space, that could've been used to reprint one of the many uncollected impossible crime stories by such short story specialists as Joseph Commings and Arthur Porges. But instead we get a pseudo-futuristic acid hallucination about a giant talking space chicken, who fancies himself the Martian equivalent of our Sherlock Holmes, looking into a bunch of purloined stones – and a failure to retrieve them may threaten relations between Earth and Mars. Yeah, I'm tapping out on this one.

The Day the Children Vanished by Hugh Pentecost

Hugh Pentecost picks up the slack in this fascinating story, in which a small town is thrown into panic when a school bus of children drives into a dugway and never comes out on the other side – and the solution is as clever as it is simple. But it's not just another cannily plotted locked room mystery, it's also a very well told story in its own right with a smashing end. I also dug the character Pentecost casted for the role of detective and the way in which he confronted the culprits. Possibly my favorite story of the collection!

As If by Magic by Julian Symons

Well, I learned something from this story: Symons wasn't only a first-class prick but also a hypocrite of the first water! You can't go around passing judgment on your contemporaries, for lacking a sense of realism, and than churn out a two-bit short-short, in which a typical amateur detective just so happens to be present at the same amusement pier where a murderer, before disappearing in the masses, starts stabbing away at someone and is invited by the police to help solve the case. Oh wow, that surely gave the genre a much-needed dose of reality, eh? 

I could've forgiven him this blatant hypocrisy, if he had shown Carr and Talbot how the impossible crime story should've been done and came up with something dazzling. But this is just petty and amateurish at best.

The Impossible Theft John F. Suter

This really pains me to say, but I'm developing a slight aversion for this wonderful story. It's a clever little nugget about a bet that involves the theft of a document from a tightly secured vault. The solution is brilliant and can be explained in one short sentence and the first time you read it you probably want to kick yourself, however, I have seen this story too often – and anthologists really aren't doing us a service by continues reprinting it (clever though it is). We're all very familiar with Poe's "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," Doyle's "The Adventure of the Speckled Band," Futrelle's "The Problem of Cell 13," and Chesterton's "The Oracle of the Dog." Now give us something we haven't read before and haven't already, at least, a dozen copies of in our collection!

Mr. Strange Takes a Field Trip by William Brittain

This pleasant, but minor, diversion tells of a very improbable disappearance of a valuable golden mask from a museum, and the only ones who were swarming that floor at the time was a school teacher and his class. At first, everyone assumes it's a pranks from two boys who sneaked off on their own, but when a search of the floor fails to turn up the missing artifact their protest starts to carry some weight – and there teacher turns detective and comes up with a solution that is both original as well as amusing.

No One Likes To Be Played for a Sucker by Michael Collins

Michael Collins is apparently one of those authors who effortlessly blends hardboiled story telling with a classic locked room puzzle. Here his one-armed private eye, Dan Fortune, is hired to keep taps on someone's business partner, but murder rears its ugly head and it involves a locked room angle. However, Collins takes a turn on that well-trodden path that leads to a slightly different hermitically shut door. The ending involves a particular kind of tough justice fitting for a story about a hardboiled gumshoe.

I really enjoy it when writers like Bill Pronzini and Michael Collins let their private eyes take on a good old-fashioned locked room mystery. It's a nice change of pace from the usual haunted mansions, harboring a boarded up room that kills its occupants, and other supernatural menaces who apparently run amok on this plane of reality.

The Arrowmont Prison Riddle by Bill Pronzini

Bill Pronzini himself also provides a story for this volume of locked room riddles and his impossible problem boosts one of the most convoluted solutions I have ever come across in a short story of this kind, but what a firework display of ingenuity and imagination! The quandary the reader has to ponder over here is how a convicted murderer, a mere minute after his execution, could've vanished from a locked and watched execution shed after being dropped through its roof with a stiff rope pulled tight around his neck. Like I already pointed out, the solution is very convoluted and even knottier than its premise, but you really have to admire anyone who can dream up such a plot. John Dickson Carr would've definitely approved!

This one competes with Huge Pentecost's "The Day the Children Vanished" as the standout story of this anthology.

Box in a Box by Jack Ritchie

This story, in which a man is discovered unconscious next to his dead wife, inside a locked bedroom, and the solution the detective comes up with is only acceptable because Jack Ritchie had his tongue firmly placed in his cheek – and that's how it should be done if you're going to present the reader a hackneyed explanation like that. Yes, I'm looking at you Lillian de la Torre!  

The Number 12 Jinx by Jon L. Breen

I don't know the first thing about baseball, but this story has me intrigued and from what I gather, it’s part of an entire series of puzzle-orientated sports mysteries featuring Ed Gorgan – a major league umpire who regular sheds his sports cap for a deerstalker. In this story he look into a baseball player who, after insisting on playing as the club's jinxed number 12, disappeared under baffling circumstances. Good story, but not the most solvable one of the collection if you're absolutely clueless about the game – like yours truly.

Crippen and Landru (who else?) put out an entire collection under the title Kill the Umpire: The Calls of Ed Gorgan (2003). I think I might take a swing at this collection in the near future. It could be fun and at leasts provides a change of pace

The Magician's Wife by J.F. Peirce

The titular magician makes the equally titular wife disappear in front of a captivated crowd of policeman and their assistant, his sister-in-law, accuses him of having murdered her sister. Nothing really special, but fun enough to read.  

The Problem of the Covered Bridge by Edward D. Hoch

This is the first recorded case of Dr. Sam Hawthorne, a small town medical practitioner who constantly runs into seemingly impossible murders in the small town of Northmont (Jessica Fletcher has nothing on him!), and this story has him arriving in town and setting up his practice. But the problem that requires his attention the most is the inexplicable vanishing of a horse-and-buggy from a covered bridge. The story is OK, but Hoch hadn't found his stride yet with this series. He threw some really good and even more baffling miracle problems at Dr. Hawthorne as the series progressed. I'm particular fond of "The Problem of the Crowded Cemetery," which was also the first Hoch story I ever read.

There are two collections from this series available: Diagnosis: Impossible (1996) and More Things Impossible (2006). A third collection, Nothing is Impossible (20??), is planned for the very near future.

5/13/11

"Fighting crime in a future time"

"Mystery and science fiction have always had one oddity in common: each has devoted addicts who refuse to read any other kind of fiction. I hope there will be readers of this book who never before read any science fiction, and other readers who never before read any crime stories. And I hope, and believe, that both will find out to their pleasure how much they have been missing."
- Miriam Allen DeFord (from the introduction of Space, Time and Crime)
Over the past few years, I have heard several people suggest that the advent of revolutionary new technology and forensic science has driven the final nail in the coffin of the classic whodunit – which always struck me as a narrow-minded view of things. As if we are the first generation of humans to witness a rapidly changing world due to technological and scientific advancement. Back then, radio and telephone made the world a lot smaller, much in the same way as the internet has done for us today, and DNA shouldn't be any more of an obstacle, for a talented mystery writer anyway, as fingerprints did for the great pioneers of the genre.

But this shallow and near-sighted argument was already refuted long before it was made, and the person who shattered it to smithereens was science-fiction legend, Isaac Asimov, who published a groundbreaking detective novel, Caves of Steel (1954), that intertwined a formal detective story with a visionary image of the future – and it worked, flawlessly!

In spite of being set in the distant future, which has the advantage of super advanced technology, it managed to come up with a brilliant and perfectly fair solution and even offers several equally neat false solutions in the process.

The anthology Space, Time and Crime (1964) tries to continue that tradition, but, unfortunately, it suffers from nearly every flaw a short story collection can have: the selection of stories are very uneven in quality, ranging from quite good to absolutely bland, and some of the stories really make you scratch your head and ponder why they were included into the book. However, none of the stories are really bad, and it makes for a nice, experimental read, but overall it holds more interest for a SF than a mystery fan.

Here's a complete overview of all fourteen stories:  

Crisis, 1999 by Fredric Brown

This tale was published at the tail end of the golden era of the detective story, 1949, and is the only entry in this collection that represents that particular period in literary history. The story itself is set 50 years into the future, 1999, and describes an advanced, but troubled, civilization – whose professional criminals are literarily getting away with murder by beating the lie detector. It's fortunate for that society that great detectives haven't gone the way of the dinosaurs, and Bela Joad descents into the underworld to undrape what covers up all these seemingly undetectable lies, but instead finds a method to root-out criminal behavior once and for all. The story is not without interest, but more so as a classic science-fiction yarn than as a clever detective story – as the proposed solution would've never been accepted in a straightforward mystery.

Fredric Brown is also the author of several detective novels and short stories, including the phantasmagorial Night of the Jabberwock (1951) and the nightmarish locked room mystery, "The Spherical Ghoul" (1943). Both highly recommended.