Unnatural Death

Lots going on here. In addition to the mystery itself, Unnatural Death is an exploration of the female spinster, of inheritance law and notions of "pedigree", and of the ethics of detection as a hobby.

It can be hard, in an older book like this, to figure out whether a character's distrust of lesbians, people of color, and other marginalized groups is a) shedding light on a contemporary social issue vs. b) a conduit of the author's own beliefs. This is something I've been struggling with while reading Golden Age of Mystery stories by Christie, Sayers, and Tey, as they are all undoubtedly products of their time.

It's true Sayers doesn't merely let simple stereotypes sit uninterrogated. Lord Peter playing on the public eagerness to hate the show more mixed-race Reverend Hallelujah Dawson turns out to have been a reckless endangerment of an innocent man-- albeit one written as so affable and harmless he is void of real agency or character. The independent Mary Whittaker, who chooses a woman as her life companion, is a fully realized character with intelligence and desperate emotion-- but Lord Peter's ultimate distrust of her turns out to have been absolutely the right move, since she turns out to be a predator who killed her aunt and did away with her implied lover. And we must remember the elder Miss Whittaker and Miss Dawson apparently lived in peace and respectability in their lifelong "companionship", though Miss Climpson, a character we are designed to find endearing, decries that sort of lifestyle as unnatural, and ends to book being menaced by the evil man-hating Mary.

Is Sayers starting to move towards something? I can imagine a version of this book where all of this ties into Lord Peter's realization of the dangers of his hobby of playing detective, and where the message is ultimately that assuming someone's guilt or innocence based on whether the Miss Climpsons of the world dislike them is an immense gamble and a foolish enterprise, as these suspects are not archetypes but people, shaped but not defined by their origins and orientations. Not super nuanced-- basic empathy stuff. Instead, however, we are left with a book where the ultimate message is "whew, it's good he wasn't a bad one, you know, the ones we hate" and "it's a shame she wasn't a good one, you know, the ones who didn't intrude on us." Because in Sayers' formulation of the world, you must be very careful of these people, and find out which "kind" they really are.

At least, that's what I thought of the book. show less

It's been over a decade since I read the first two Lord Peter Wimsey novels, and reading this one, which my wife acquired second hand in an eyewatering bilious-green edition from 1976, had me lamenting my wasted years. Or it might be that Sayers is getting into her stride and improving with every outing; I hope so. There's a lot going on here narratively and thematically. I love redoubtable "odd woman" (in Gissing's sense) Miss Climpson, with her exuberant epistolary style, and Wimsey's tapping into the pool of two million "excess women" to gather intelligence far outside his own ambit. I love the portrayal in backstory of the 19th century lesbian couple, one a successful horse breeder, the other the homemaker who ends up as the book's show more initial victim. There's lesbianism throughout the book, although as the top GoodReads review (by Dorothea, in case that changes) says, it's not always portrayed so fondly. But I wonder if our villainess is really lesbian or just a cold fish? She's certainly pretty chilling. I was also very struck (surely not stricken) by Sayers' moral/religious commentary in this one. It's brief but quite profound, Miss Climpson agonising over whether to betray the secrets of the confessional (she stumbles across some preparatory notes) in search of a crucial clue, and the atheistic Wimsey doing some productive soul-searching with a Catholic priest. Wimsey and his Watson, Det. Charles Parker (and Sayers has plenty of fun with the Holmes inspo) are on top form and the former finds himself in real jeopardy during a standout scene in between quoting liberally from Shakespeare, Romantics et al, driving like a wanker and generally sleuthing the shit out of things in a noble-foppish way... show less

The beginning of the shift from the early Lord Peter to the Peter we're more familiar with from the books which feature Harriet. The plot is as convoluted and vaguely implausible as you might expect, focused more on the how- and whydunnit than the who. It's mostly interesting as an artefact of its time: the breathtakingly casual level of the racism exhibited by many of the characters; the faintly stereotypical yet entirely sympathetic depiction of the only character of colour in the book; the wonky gender essentialism; the hinted at lesbian relationships, one of them portrayed as happy and life-long, the others... not so much.

Unnatural Death opens with a bystander overhearing a dinner conversation between Lord Peter and his best friend and colleague (besides Bunter, that is), Charles Parker, an Inspector at Scotland Yard. The bystander is a doctor who had public doubts about an apparent natural death due to cancer that defied his predicted survival timeframe. He paid a high social cost for expressing his concern and wanted to move on. Lord Peter took his doubts seriously enough to figure out the name and location of the decedent and embark on an investigation. This is the book where Charles is introduced to Miss Climpson, Lord Peter's premier confidential agent, hilariously misunderstood to be a love interest in a discreet love nest. Peter sends Miss show more Climpson to the village to dig up gossip and observe the local characters involved. And Bunter plays a role at appropriate moments, as does Mr. Murbles, Lord Peter’s solicitor. Charles Parker doesn't believe there's anything to investigate for the first half of the story, until additional people associated with the case die of apparent natural causes and a motive is finally uncovered. By the end, there were 3 murders, 3 attempted murders, and 1 suicide, all starting with an old woman supposedly dying of metastatic cancer in the hospice care of the day. The visual aid of a genealogical table at the end helps put the motive in perspective. I think it might be the highest body count of any of the Lord Peter mysteries, and certainly one of the most violent near misses. . The murderer is unrepentant and fighting to the end. This book was very much a contemplation on gender norms and roles and implicit lesbian relationships, as well as Lord Peter questioning whether his activities cause more harm than good show less

While dining out one day, Lord Peter Wimsey and his friend Inspector Parker are discussing so-called accidental deaths that might actually be murders. A young doctor overhears them and joins their conversation. He shares the story of a former patient, an elderly woman with cancer who died rather suddenly. She was terminally ill, and no signs of foul play were found on the body, so everyone believed her death was natural; but the doctor was nevertheless suspicious because she had seemed to be improving lately. The woman's great-niece and presumed heiress was living with her at the time, so she had opportunity, but her motive was questionable because the old lady would die soon enough from natural causes. Lord Peter is intrigued by the show more case and decides to investigate. He employs Miss Climpson, a chatty but intelligent spinster, to temporarily relocate to the dead woman's village and do some discreet investigating. Meanwhile, he and Parker search for other suspects, motives, and possible methods of the murder.

After rediscovering Dorothy Sayers earlier this year, I've embarked on a project to read all her Lord Peter Wimsey books in publication order. This is book #3 in the series, but if I recall correctly, it can be read as a standalone. I enjoyed this book a lot, but I feel like it's a very unusual detective story. Despite a high body count, it doesn't feel very action-packed or plot-driven. The main mystery is not whodunnit, but why and how. One of the biggest clues to the motive is a tiny change in an obscure property statute. Nevertheless, I found the mystery compelling and was eager to solve the complete puzzle of how and why the murder took place. Also, Miss Climpson is delightful; this is her first appearance in the series, but I believe she'll be a recurring character in future books. She reminds me somewhat of a Jane Austen character -- one of the good-hearted chatterboxes, like a more intelligent Miss Bates. I wasn't completely on board with the characterization of the villain, whose psychology didn't ring true for me. I doubt this will be my favorite Sayers mystery, but I did enjoy it and look forward to reading the rest of the series. show less

In which Sayers makes it clear that she is so much more than a mere writer of mysteries. Wimsey still spouts his doggerel on occasion, but he is also forced to confront the fact that his meddling has resulted in the deaths of two rather harmless people. In the first book he apprehends a murderous sociopath, who did it partly for the interest. In the second book, the accused is exonerated, his sister his preserved from imminent marriage to a socialist hypocrite, and the abused wife of a minor character is freed from his brutal tyrany. Wimsey might have started to think that he could do naught but good, but here the effects of his actions are disastrous and the moral questions are troubling. The surreal encounter with the second victim is show more distressing, and the ending is dismal. But Wimsey will persist in solving quite a few more crimes.

The plot is intricate and well-formed. The investigators are forced to admit that the murderer would never have been brought to justice if it weren't for one small mistake and some luck. The murderer's later actions are less and less well considered, and eventually lead to their apprehension.

There is a good deal of humour, mostly due to the introduction of one new character, Miss Climpson. show less

It's a mystery whether or not a crime’s even been committed when an elderly cancer patient dies sooner than expected. But that doesn’t stop Lord Peter Wimsey from nosing around for a means and a motive. On the positive side, this entry in the series introduces Mrs. Climpson, a spunky senior citizen whose gossip-gathering moves the case forward. On the negative, it includes a hefty dose of the racism that was matter-of-course for the era. To my ears, it came across as the malicious blather of a minor character but YMMV. Aside from that one issue, Unnatural Death is an enjoyable Golden Age mystery with the touches of gallows humor and whimsy I’ve come to expect from this author.