The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

Holds up well in rereading. The plot has interesting twists and turns and the characters are well drawn. This early Lord Peter is still a fairly frivolous seeming gentleman, but he displays incisive intelligence in questioning witnesses and suspects. Several years ago I cited this novel in a conference paper rebutting the idea that Golden Age mysteries ignored the condition of society. A mystery set in a men's club for military gentlemen is very clear on the physical and mental damage done to the veterans of WWI and their disappointment in the society to which they had returned. From the fathers giving commemorative dinners for the comrades of sons lost in the war, to the shell shocked George Fentiman, to Tin-Tummy Challoner, to the show more numerous women who will never find husbands, the England of Dorothy Sayers has been heavily marked by the war. show less

Reading Dorothy Sayers’ story collection Lord Peter Views the Body got me wondering about just how much her Lord Peter Wimsey series might be influenced by her Catholicism. Not in the sense of them being inspirational fiction, or in any way preachy, but in the way her religious beliefs infuse the worldview of the series. In the earlier post I had noticed that this was rather bleak, due mostly to the characters ranging from unlikeable to outright evil.

Compared to that, there seems to be a shift in Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club - although I cannot tell whether this is due to Dorothy Sayers changing her views, or to the greater length of the novel allowing more space for subtlety and nuance. The world described is still mostly a show more valley of tears, but the creatures that inhabit it are for the most part not so much evil as frail. It is like the world kept pushing and pushing and pushing at every individual, until those that are too weak or brittle eventually break, cave in or shatter, with only the strongest having a chance to withstand the constant pressure. And there is no exception to that, even Lord Peter is missing his usual joyful hedonism in this novel and appears unusually listless throughout. It should be kept in mind, though, that the main reason the world appears as harsh as it is, are the after-effects of the First World War that extend even to those who took no part in the fighting – which of course implies that it is man who causes the suffering after all.

The best part of Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, however, is its beginning which is utterly brilliant both as opening puzzle for a whodunnit and as a striking emblem of the state of the British Empire at the time. It is wonderfully done, a scene nobody who has read it is likely to forget – maybe even a bit too brilliant as it threatens to outshine the rest of the novel and make the further events seem somewhat drab. show less

It must be noted from the onset that from me 3.5 stars to DLS is equivalent to 5 stars for most other writers. I hold her very high in the firmament of writing in general, hence my standards for her are appreciably higher.

One issue for me in terms of this most recent rereading was that I partly remembered whodunnit and why, probably because I watched the Ian Carmichael Wimsey series not so many years ago. Blessedly, my memory is flimsy enough that the ultimate crux of the matter escaped me completely, so from about the halfway point onwards I was as much in the dark as I was on first encountering this novel too many decades ago for me to care to count.

Putting aside that small inconvenience, I was happy as usual to be lead hither and show more thither through Sayers' complicated and intelligent plot-line, with the puzzle aspect immeasurably enriched by flashes of almost cheeky humour and stunning moments of intensely insightful observation, on human nature and the human condition. The most incidental of Sayers' characters have flesh on their bones to a remarkable degree.

The most enjoyable fleshing out for me, as ever, is that of our favourite characters: beloved Wimsey, of course, but also Parker and Bunter. The crumbs are coming together, the leavening is working its mysterious power, the dough is inexorably rising, I am mixing my metaphores like a mad thing, and the Wimsey loaf is beginning to show its bloom. show less

I really love this book. For an unpretentious 1920s mystery novel, it really has a lot going on. There's the mystery itself, which has enough twists and turns to remain interesting. (I didn't guess the outcome, which is always a plus!). Then there is the social commentary: the plight of World War I veterans, the effects of poverty and unemployment, the changing role of women in society, relationships between men and women. And of course there is Peter Wimsey: intelligent, intuitive, funny and compassionate. Some scenes from this novel will remain with me for a long time: George Fentiman's breakdown, Peter's argument with Charles Parker, the easy camaraderie between Peter and Marjorie Phelps and Peter's conversation with Miss Dorland. show more Reading this book - and Dorothy L Sayers' other novels - makes me so much wish that I had known the author. What an interesting mind she had. show less

Where I got the book: my bookshelf. A re-read.

I have grown to love this Lord Peter Wimsey mystery because of its somberness, although I remember that when I first read it as a teen I found it uninteresting. Amazing how history (and, therefore, literature) becomes more complex and interesting as you age. The mystery LPW is called on to investigate is the time of death of ancient, doddery General Fentiman, which will make a big financial difference to one or more of three potential heirs. Of course things turn out to be way more complicated than the natural death of a very old soldier...

This novel is set against the background of the aftermath of World War I, hence its more realistic, sober tone than the earlier novels. LPW comes very show more well out of this book, with far fewer fantastic speeches or superhuman feats of everything than some of the Wimsey novels are prone to. I feel, though, that the writing's a little rougher than usual, as if Sayers were on a short deadline.

Another thing that struck me this time round (and I may be completely wrong) is that Ann Dorland, one of the heirs and thus a potential suspect, was a prototype of Harriet Vane, who will turn up in the next novel as LPW's love interest. Ann is an unhappy woman because she's been crossed in love, is a murder suspect but underneath it all (as LPW tells her) is a fine person with good taste. Does that sound familiar, Wimsey fans? Can't help thinking that at some point Sayers thought "hey, there's a little spark there. I could develop it for the next novel".

A good mystery, of course: Sayers is nothing if not ingenious (although this is two times in quick succession that the victim has been an elderly person who would soon die anyway...) But it's the brooding, foggy feel of the book that really gives it its worth. Even Parker (inside whose head we dwell rather disconcertingly at times) seems to be permanently depressed, and the end of the book sort of drifts off into the mist. One to read by a cheerful log fire with a glass of old brandy... show less

This mixes a touch of gallows humor and some sharp social commentary into to a cleverly plotted Golden Age mystery. What starts out as an inquiry into the time of death for an unfortunate member of the exclusive Bellona Club becomes a twisty-turny, complex whodunnit that never bogs down. I’m giving all the credit to amateur sleuth Lord Peter Wimsey and his non-stop banter with a large cast of quirky characters but the post Great War setting plays a large part in it too. I'm hoping for more of Wimsey's gentleman's gentleman Bunter in the next entry.

One of the earlier Lord Peter Wimsey novels, and the only one which I hadn’t read. (I haven’t read all the short stories, either.)

The elderly General Fentiman is discovered dead behind his newspaper at his London club. Some time later Wimsey is asked by the family’s solicitor to see if he can discover more precisely the time when General died, as the General’s sister also died that morning and her Will varies depending upon who survived whom.

I enjoyed the novelty of an investigation which doesn’t begin as a whodunit, and enjoyed wondering if (and if so, how) it might turn into a murder investigation. Also interesting is that several of the characters -- not just Wimsey -- fought in the war, and this has affected them in show more different ways.

Somewhere in the middle I began to find the clue-gathering a bit dry, but then the plot twisted in ways I hadn’t expected. There were more scenes which reminded me of the Sayers who wrote Gaudy Night. While there are women connected to the case, the Bellona Club is a wholly masculine world, and earlier on the women are often pushed to the edges. But when they do take centre stage, it’s in a way that takes them and their concerns seriously, and highlights the way they have been mistreated or misrepresented by others. I’m not sure if Sayers is completely successful here -- I suppose, when she wrote this she wasn’t yet exactly the person, or perhaps more accurately she wasn’t exactly the writer, she was seven years later -- but it makes the novel potentially reread-able (for me).

I suspect I am much more interested in Lord Peter as a person than I am in Wimsey as a detective. It is hard to separate the two, and then of course I’m usually most interested in the bits about detectives’ personal lives and opinions and so on... But what I appreciate most about Lord Peter Wimsey has a lot less to do with his skills of deduction and investigation, and more to do with just how he talks to people -- his faculty for quotation, his intelligence and the way he respects others. (Would I be interested in a crime-free novel in which he goes to parties and talks to people about whatever is going on in their lives? Maybe?)

“[...] It’s the books and paintings I want to look at. H’m! Books, you know, Charles, are like lobster-shells. We surround ourselves with ’em and leave ’em behind, as evidences of our earlier stages of development.” show less