Metta Fuller Victor (1831–1885)

The Poisoned Pen Press has been a longtime provider of quality mystery novels—not just current ones, but also classics you won't find anywhere else. Case in Point: The Dead Letter. This is the first title in a cooperative effort between Poisoned Pen Press and the Library of Congress exploring the start of mystery novels in the U.S. And as it turns out, The Dead Letter is, as far as anyone knows, the first full-length mystery novel published in the U.S., published under the name Seeley show more Regester, which one of many pen names used by Metta Victoria Fuller Victor. Yes—the first full-length mystery in the U.S. was written by a woman.

The Dead Letter includes a bit of the paranormal—one of our detectives and his daughter are able to "read" people and scenes through physical evidence—but that paranormal plays second fiddle to real-thing mystery. The novel has an ambitious structure. It opens in a dead-letter office, where an unusual bit of correspondence has the narrator thinking back on a mystery that tore his life apart—flash back first to that story, flash back next to a more recent bit of that same story, then flash forward to a post-dead letter finale.

You will probably figure out who dunnit well before the end of the novel, but the author keeps things tense nonetheless. Will evil prevail? What will be the fate of our honorable hero? Will the innocent young maids avoid entanglements with scoundrels? The detectives, of course, are men. Travels from New York to San Francisco and Acapulco are involved, which leads to some deeply biased portrayals of Latinx characters. The author was a product of her time.

The Dead Letter is an interesting read, and not just because it marked the beginnings of U.S. mystery novels. It's well worth a read—particularly for those who like historical fiction—and it's left me eager to read the next volume in this series.

I received a free copy of this title from the publisher via EdelweissPlus; the opinions are my own. show less

First published in 1867 (apparently) under the male pseudonym Seeley Regester, this detective romance is written in a more lush, descriptive style than we might be used to nowadays, but not overly so. It's a pleasant read, and fairly melodramatic, but not over the top. It does contain a couple instances of a psychic clairvoyant gimmick that assists the detective; and he doesn't engage in the kind of on-stage demonstrations and ratiocination common in modern post-Sherlockian detective show more fiction. In fact, the detective isn't really the central character.

The plot concerns the murder of Henry, Eleanor's fiancé. A family friend, Richard, who hopes to join Eleanor's father's law office, sets out to solve the crime. Most of the leg work is done by Burton, a detective, assisted by Richard, and covers a timespan of about two years. The letter of the title is an undeliverable letter that the protagonist runs across while working in the dead letter department of the post office. Obviously, it becomes a clue.

The narrative voice is first person, male, but to my modern eye feels rather too feminine and emotionally deep for a man of that period--as I usually think of them, anyway. I'm not sure if that's normal for the era or if the writer's feminine sensibility is leaking through into her male protagonist, and I'm simply remarking, not condemning. In any case, this is a worthwhile book to read, even if only to observe a bit of authentic period drama from mid 19th century. There are some interesting turns of phrase sprinkled throughout, as well as some curious spellings, the like of which I've never seen before. (And if anyone is looking to replenish their supply of commas, there are plenty of extras in here.)

Occasionally the story drags a little, but probably only because modern readers are used to a faster pace, and much of the slight drag involves a trifle too much description and/or emotional "gushing".

Not to spoil anything too much, but I was surprised to see that at the end while tying up all the loose ends and describing everyone's happily-ever-after, the author definitively cuts off the possibility of a sequel involving the detective Burton--which is something I think wouldn't be done by a market-driven modern author. show less

This is a very early detective novel--like many novels of the period it has some major coincidences as foundational to the plot. A lost letter that is key to the solution just happens to be opened by a key character--really, out of hundred such--but it was Providential. A full ration of national prejudices appear as well: superstitious Irish, violent Mexicans--no wily Chinese, the main character didn't have occasion to visit Chinatown while in San Francisco. Incredibly a private detective is show more allowed by the police to retain key pieces of evidence and the murderer is allowed to (spoiler alert) walk free after his coerced confession. Interesting as a historical piece but cannot be recommended for any other reason. It is considered the first full length work of crime fiction published in the US. The author was Metta Victoria Fuller Victor, who published over 100 works in a variety of genres including an abolitionist work praised by Lincoln. show less

between a 3.5 and 3.7, rounded to 4

for plot, etc., I'll refer you to my online reading journal here.

Published in 1866, The Dead Letter, in my opinion, is the better of the two novels featured here. Catherine Ross Nickerson in her The Web of Iniquity: Early Detective Fiction by American Women labels The Dead Letter as "the first American detective novel" (29); both books are, as she notes,

"documents of a moment in cultural history when the young professional seemed to hold the promise of show more mediating between the cloudy-minded nostalgia of the landed class and the unprincipled greed of the merchant and capitalist classes." (31)

I will leave it for the reader to discover exactly what she means, but she is most definitely on target here. While there's definitely a LOT going on between the lines (way more than I can explain here), for example a portrait of a) what was holding the American reading interest at the time, b) societal/cultural attitudes towards outsiders (here including the Irish, Mexicans, Spaniards and other ethnic groups) c) the focus on the home, marriage, and the domestic sphere as a prime focus of "investigation", these books are also fun reads for anyone interested in American literature of this period that won't likely be found on any general American Lit course syllabus.

Nickerson also reveals in her book that

"the first Americans to write detective novels picked the domestic sphere as the area most able to support the detective story and the area most in need of investigation," (46)

and as I continued to read through both novels here, this idea became clearer with every page turned.

As I said earlier, there's no possible way to go into all of the under-the-surface things I uncovered while reading these books, and both are much more complex than I make them out to be in my reading-journal post, but trust me, there is a lot between the covers that is discussion worthy. For someone like myself who loves these old books and who tries to read between the lines as to the cultural climate, the politics, and the historical significance of the time in which they were written, it is a goldmine. On the other hand, they're definitely not for everyone, but if for no other reason, the fact that Metta Fuller Victor made an appearance before Anna Katherine Green (who I've always believed was the first American detective novelist) makes her extremely readworthy. show less