Writing Right with Dmitri - Defective Detectives
Created | Updated Oct 6, 2013
Writing Right with Dmitri: Defective Detectives
This month, October, will see the arrival of h2g2 Mystery Night. Since the sleuths will be doing it for the SECOND time, it is now a tradition. That's because we're British – at least, some of us are. Your Editor here is a US hillbilly, but likes to dress up and pretend. Anyway, it's as good an excuse as any to talk about detectives.
If you're British, chances are, you like your detectives to be elite characters. If you're from North America, you're not so picky about the socio-economic background of your sleuth. You may have noticed that in his current television incarnations, the British version of Sherlock Holmes continues to have a posh accent and old school tie. His counterpart in New York, however, sports multiple tatts, hangs around with a seedy female doctor, and has a drug problem. No wonder he's in exile.
For at least a hundred years, this social difference has marked transatlantic mystery fiction. Lord Peter Wimsey vs Philip Marlowe. Bulldog Drummond? Try Sam Spade. In film? Dodgy British actors put on snobbish attire and classy accents, while Park Avenue's own Humphrey Bogart pretends that he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Here's lookin' at you, sweetheart.
Obviously, Brit readers prefer their detectives to belong to the untorturable class. Even Raffles, who's a cat burglar, is an upper-class cat burglar. The Saint? Oh, please. He knows what fork to use. On the other hand, have you any idea where Detective Monk went to school? Of course not. No American cares.
What these two approaches have in common, though, is a need to explain the 'outsider' quality of the cerebral detective. What makes him so clever? To the British audience, superior intellect nurtured by privilege. To the US reader, some other, more elusive ability – very often brought about by trauma. In other words, the North American detective – we include our Canadian friends here – has to pay for his smarts. And thereby hangs your tale.
How to Torture Your Detective
Notice that British television writers know this. The BBC recently produced Copper, an historical crime series set in 1860s New York. Irish cops were the first professionals in the world, folks, and we love 'em over here. This particular Irish cop has lots of sleuthing to do. It's the middle of the Civil War, and evil Confederates are trying to set fire to the Big Apple. (Yes, this REALLY happened. John Wilkes Booth was next door, playing Brutus. He really was. Truth is stranger than fiction.)
So how did this Irish immigrant cop get where he is? Trauma. He 'saw the elephant', as they say. Down at the Battle of Shiloh. Oh, and he saved a rich guy's life, so he owed him a job. That sort of thing. Our hero spends most of the first series looking for his wife. His little daughter died. In other words, he has a lot on his plate. Watching him deal with it is part of the intrigue of this excellent series.
Does this work in the modern day? You bet it does. Up in Canada, Arkady Balagan of Endgame is stuck in a desolate four-star hotel in Vancouver. In the words of the housedick, he's 'an agora-fruitcake'. What makes the Russian chessmaster unable to leave this overdecorated asylum? PTSD. Somebody blew up his fiancée's car, with her in it, right in front of the door. Since then, Arkady has occupied Suite 1, paying for his keep by solving crime. Great story.
You've got to hobble your gumshoe somehow. You can give him Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, like Adrian Monk. You can make him a recovering alcoholic, like Lawrence Block's Matthew Scudder. Scudder goes to a lot of meetings. We wonder idly what a 1930s hard-boiled detective would have made of Scudder. After all, most of them were two-fisted drinkers.
How will you handicap your problem-solver? Will he, or she, have a crippling mental condition? A hard-to-break habit? A dodgy connection to the magical world? Jim Butcher gets a lot of mileage out of Harry Dresden, who is sort of Harry Potter-meets-Philip Marlowe. Harry's warehouse stronghold gets invaded by all sorts of beasties, but there's always a mystery to be solved. Even if he has to enlist the help of a sexy vampire.
The moral of the story: If you can't 'play weak', you can't do good detective fiction. At least, not in North America. Your hero should come from behind, and you've got to give him a Behind to come from. Stick him jail for eight years, like Charlie Crews in Life. Then let him out, and see what he does. He's likely to surprise everybody.
Just think how boring those smart-alecks are, if they don't have an Achilles heel. You get tired of the know-alls with the cucumber sandwiches. Find a way to make your guy/gal interesting. Even if it's sometimes painful. For writers, as for actors, painful's more fun. And more likely to be award-winning.
Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It
For Writing Right Extra Credit: Design an original detective. Come up with a character sketch for a new detective series. Who knows? You might have a winner.
Leave us a note with your character sketch, and we'll publish them all. Here's a checklist:
- What does your detective look like? Physical appearance, odd mannerisms?
- What's the detective's cultural background? Jewish grandmother? Connection to the circus? The Russian mob?
- Where does your detective live? City, country? What kind of housing? Garden shed, apartment, palace?
- What kind of transportation does your detective use? Bus? Train? Donkey cart? Beat-up jalopy or vintage luxury auto?
- What's your detective's handicap? OCD? PTSD? AA, NA? What about the rest of the alphabet?
- What does your detective want out of life? What sort of search is he/she on?
- What's your detective's greatest strength? If you know that, you know why we should care.
Happy sleuthing! And remember: h2g2's Mystery Night is coming up. Watch the Post for dates, times, and news from Pastey and his team.
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