Lord Peter Wimsey, among the most celebrated of all fictional supersleuths-currently protrayed by Ian Carmichael on Public Broadcasting Service's critically acclaimed Masterpiece Theatre-appears here in two challenging cases which mark his television debut... In Clouds of Witness Lord Peter-amateur detective, scholar and bon vivant-learns while on vacation in France that his brother, the Duke of Denver is being held for the murder of their sister's fiance, Captain Denis Cathcart. Evidence has been given to show that Cathcart quarreled with the accused-and was subsequently shot. A pistol belonging to the Duke was found on the grounds of his estate, near the scene of the crime. The murder of an elderly member is at the cause of the Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club. The club, it has been joshingly said, resembles a morgue. Then, one night, the jest became a reality. The eminent and ancient General Fentiman thought to be napping in the wing chair by the fireplace, is sleeping his last sleep! There is no reason to suspect causes other than natural ones in the death of a man of ninety. He is duly buried and that seems to be the end of him. Soon however matters of money develop-a huge sum of money- which dempends for its disposition on exactly when the old man dies. How long had he been lying in the fireplace chair before his body was discovered? There had been an approximate estimate based on the degree of rigor mortis, but approximations are now insufficient-and Lord Peter finds himself intrigued by the unusual aspect of this particular rigor mortis. As he investigates, other peculiarities also demand answers-such as the lethal quantity of digitalin discovered post-exhumation autopsy! Book Club Edition 486 pages
The detective stories of well-known British writer Dorothy Leigh Sayers mostly feature the amateur investigator Lord Peter Wimsey; she also translated the Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri.
This renowned author and Christian humanist studied classical and modern languages.
Her best known mysteries, a series of short novels, set between World War I and World War II, feature an English aristocrat and amateur sleuth. She is also known for her plays and essays.
I don't know why these two books were bound together. It's clear that Unnatural Death comes between them. But anyway, though I have another copy of Clouds of Witness, this is the only copy of The Unpleasantness at The Bellona Club which I have: so I'll review only the latter.
When I first read this book, I had no idea who 'Bellona' might be. I'm still not really sure. I gather she was a Roman war goddess, and I have a vague idea that there was some connection to Boadicea of the Iceni. But other than that, I don't know why a British club would be named after her.
The club phenomenon, detailed mostly in Sayers' books at this time, was a form of compromise. In earlier times, anybody with even minor claims to nobility was expected to spend some time in Town, attending the royal court and later also Parliament, at least part of the year. But even the very rich often found it difficult to maintain a townhouse that was used only part of the year. So people tended to join together into clubs which they used in ways similar to residential hotels.
There's one thing that I've wondered about Sayers' view of society. In one Hagar The Horrible cartoon Helga asks Hagar whether he saw any goodlooking women while he was raiding England. He replies that he didn't see ANY women in England. "Another country without women." sighs Helga. Sayers' England is not without women; but it's almost entirely without children. There are a few children in some of the novel-length stories, and a few more in the short stories (for example, the Duke of Denver had two minor children at the time of Clouds of Witness: but there's barely a mention of them in that book). I've tried to find out if there was any decline in fertility in Britain after WWI, and haven't been able to find any data. But Sayers' depiction implies that the median age was fairly high at the time.
The 'unpleasantness' in the Bellona Club was probably inherent from the start. By the late 1920s, when the majority of members were not people to whom the Crimean War was 'the big one' (since the Crimean War ended in 1856, anyone under the age of 80 would probably have enlisted while underage), most members would be subject to PTSD. And many also had physical disabilities. One of the minor characters who appear in several of these novels is described as 'Tin-Tummy' Challoner.
George Fentiman is evidently one of the ones who had both PTSD (described in this period as 'shell-shock') and physical injuries. It's fairly obvious he was gassed at least once, probably with chlorine gas, but possibly also with mustard gas. Chlorine gas is what left my great-uncle with the need to spend at least part of each day on oxygen. Mustard gas also had respiratory effects, but it had carcinogenic effects in addition. What exact injury has left George Fentiman with chronic pains in his abdomen is not clear.
People tend either completely exculpate or completely blame George Fentiman. Granted, he's in a bad position. There seems to have been no sort of disability pension available at the time, and there was an attitude that regarded it as humiliating (even emasculating) to be dependent on his wife's income. But there was also an attitude that he had no right to complain, and that he was being inexcusably rude to his wife. Which he was, of course. And to all women, in some passages. As for the PTSD, nobody seems to have considered that he needed any special assistance, except in periods when he was hospitalized for it.
The events in the book revolve around the deaths of the aged General Fentiman, and his estranged and nearly as elderly sister. What was his sister's crime that caused her family to ostracize her? An 'intemperate' marriage, which left her filthy rich and, after the death of her only child, childless. This caused an alienation so great that she and her brother were only reconciled less than a day before their deaths.
At one point, one of the characters points out that it's a destructive system where people can't get money without somebody dying. And why, after all, should it be so? Lady Dormer (General Fentiman's sister Felicity), has more than she could possibly use in one lifetime. How much? Half a million pounds, or a little more. How much is that? It's not really clear. Sayers, for all her nearly obsessive interest in money, really doesn't seem to have any concept of relative value. What could one buy with half a million pounds at the time? Since few prices are given in the story, it's far from clear. A nice clinic, it's implied at several points. A good house. And what else? There's no real accounting for the expenses of Lady Dormer's household, though it seems likely that they haven't made a significant impact on the principle.
So why SHOULDN'T she establish life annuities for each of her heirs while she lived, and confirm them as absolute bequests in her will? Why should George Fentiman feel obliged to avoid his great-aunt, lest he be thought mercenary? It's true that she's basically free to choose who her heirs would be (her great-nephews argue that any more distant relative should get a mere pittance, even if, as in the case of Anne Dorland, they had devoted their lives, or even part of their lives, to provide companionship for a lonely old woman). But why should people with debts and needs have to wait around on long death-watches when they could have been independent long before (and probably on better terms with their rich kinswoman than if they could only get anything by her death)?
I quite liked the character of Marjorie Phelps in this book. I think she might have been based on a personal friend of Sayers', and I was glad to discover that she appeared in at least one other book.
The characterization of Ann Dorland, however, is very badly handled. We only get a chance to see how SHE experiences things in a last minute confession of something she finds humiliating. Otherwise, we see her only at second-hand, in situations where even those well-inclined toward her tend to treat her more as an idea than as a person. And I have to say, I don't find the proposed solution to her problems particularly convincing. I don't personally care whether she has love affairs or not: but if she does, I don't think she should rely on them to tie up all the loose ends in her life.
The murder in this story would never have come to light if anybody had been willing to negotiate. The death is so close to when and by what means it could have been expected that realizing that it WAS a murder is more a matter of a hunch than a real diagnosis based on symptoms.
One issue that becomes relevant toward the end of a story is breakthroughs in hormonal research. But as too commonly happens, the researchers in the story fall prey to the Maslow warning: "If the only tool you have is a hammer, you treat everything like a nail." Many things ARE explicable by an imbalance of hormones. In those cases, it would help to redress the balance. Many are NOT. Hormonal treatments are very useful for a lot of things. But even in the flush of new discovery, there should have been somebody urging caution, and saying what Shevek says in The Dispossessed: "You can prevent pains but not Pain". However useful these discoveries were likely to be, it's just improbable that they'd prevent all crimes. Yet this is precisely what the researchers were promising. Sayers didn't quite catch the irony of these catchall promises: but she did include the idea in the book, to explain the motives of several of the characters. After all, if one COULD cure all ills with an injection, isn't that a good reason to want enough for a clinic?
Lord Peter Wimsey, amateur sleuth and well-off eligible bachelor, has fled London and Paris for the wilds of Corsica - his man Bunter at his side. As he idles and revels in his remote retreat and more primitive pleasures, he little suspects his personal life has been upended.
Bunter, who has remained more in touch with the rest of the world, surprises his master with packed bags and a recent news paper: The Duke of Denver, his older brother, has been arraigned and will stand charge for the murder of their sister's fiancé.
Denver is causing a sensation because he will be the first peer to be judged on a murder charge before the full House of Lords (something not seen since 1765). The few facts of the case are mysterious indeed: The Duke admitting to a shouting fight with the victim hours before the body was discovered and providing a lame alibi of having gone for a walk and losing a letter that caused him to accuse the victim of cheating at cards. His sister lying about hearing a gun shot and then taking to her bed in hysterics. The guests at the house (where the crime occurred) are all shocked and talking unhelpfully to the press.
Lord Peter arrives finally, as the trial is underway and rebuffed by all but his mother for wanting to investigate. Soon, with the help of Chief Inspector Parker, Lord Peter begins to find clues and evidence missed by the local police. He sees that his brother is innocent, and lying to protect someone who can be a witness to prove his innocence. Peter's sister is also found to be lying to protect someone unexpected. There are chases, and Lord Peter has narrow escapes from being shot at and sucked into a treacherous bog, known locally as "Peter's Pot".
Finally, having seen the solution to the case in one word found in the victim's Paris apartment (Manon) Lord Peter makes a dangerous (at the time) flight over the Atlantic, daring clouds of a storm, to produce evidence that can save his brother from certain hanging, as well as the mysterious alibi that his brother will not use.
Sensation all around! A great early Peter Wimsey mystery to read - it provides character backgrounds for future books and explains some of Lord Peter's back story. There is also some romance, but not for Peter at this time.
Two cases for Lord Peter Wimsey in the same book! Clouds of Witness relates the story of Lord Peter must prove that the circumstantial evidence "proving" that his brother killed their sister's fiance. His brother will not help in the investigation and Lady Mary is "in a state of collapse." Lord Peter and Mr. Parker, police detective, work together to solve this puzzling mystery trying to save Lord Peter's brother while Lady Mary keeps lying to them. The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club is a smaller story - General Fentiman is sleeping at the fire in his club as he often does. But, then it's discovered that he's actually dead. It turns out that the General's sister died at about the same time. But, it's important to discover who died first as this fact has a large consequence on who inherits the sister's money. There are several twists and turns here, but Lord Peter straightens it all out. The Lord Peter Wimsey stories are very old-fashioned and the way the men think about women is appalling. But I think of them as being historical and find them interesting for the mystery and for the way Sayers reveals the history of the times.
Charming Wimsey tale. Coming back to this one I particularly enjoy the hints about romances to come in the near future. It's all about the characters and the so-British interactions.
I only read Clouds of Witness, but I like to list the correct edition. I’ve read all the Wimsey novels, many of them, including this one, several times.
It is a classic golden age story, and you can see that Ms Sayers is just setting up her characters — they develop more over the course of the novels. At this point, it also serves as historical fiction of the English aristocracy between the wars and may appeal to Downton Abbey fans
Peter Wimsey’s brother, Gerald, Duke of Denver, has been accused of murder. He says he is innocent and will say nothing else. Lord Peter and Inspector Parker comb the Yorkshire hills and the streets of Paris in a desperate attempt to unravel The Riddlesdale Mystery. Recommended, it will leave you wanting more.
The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club was rather more entertaining than Clouds of Witness. Not only did the mystery rely rather less on fantastic coincidence, the London milieu was much more interesting. There was also non-insignificant page time devoted to a character who had suffered shell-shock in the war, and come out of it rather worse than Wimsey did.
Also, we get to see a bit of the artistic crowd, and the women aren’t always judged solely on their looks (but mostly). All in all these books are not as truly wonderful as I remember them because they’re not as feminist as I want them to be. And honestly, I haven’t been super excited about the solutions of the mysteries.
Lord Peter does have a couple of good moments where he tries not to take chivalric charge of a woman in distress when she doesn’t want him to, and another where he says that he tries to talk to women like they’re people. All in all I think it’s hard to imagine the division of the sexes that was still in force at the time.
All in all, these books are not ones that I would be sorry if I had to read them again, but at least these two volumes might not be staying on my keeper shelf.
Two of Lord Peter's earliest adventures. However this is only obvious in Clouds of Witnesses through the constant references to "the war" and Peter getting lost in a fog because he isn't carrying his cane with the measuring marks and compass in the handle, and in Unpleasantness at the Ballona Club through the constant references to "the war" and a trite ending that is unsatisfactorily presented rather than an actual ending and would never appear in the later Wimsey novels.
But the energy and joy of these early novels, and the intelligence of the writing so overcomes these potentially fatal flaws that they can stand proudly beside the more mature Wimsey of Gaudy Night or Five Red Herrings without any fear of appearing lesser novels.
Clouds of Witnesses is critical because it introduces the entire Wimsey family, and as always the Dowager dominates every scene that she appears in and makes it clear where Peter got his original and observant habits. This is also the dawn of the romance of Lady Mary and Inspector Parker. The lightweight mystery resolves quickly once the tight knit of lies obscuring the events unravels, but the relationships and our introduction to the Wimsey family makes this a joy to read.
In comparison Unpleasantness is so contrived and with so many elements borrowed from other detection novels that it should be among the weakest of the series, yet instead it is also a fine example of the maturing Lord Peter, the Peter who is welcomed by every level of society and who demonstrates a deeper understanding and a fine logical calculation that becomes so important to the later stories. The Peter of Unpleasantness likes people, and although we are still kept close to the model of the hard-boiled tecs of pulp fiction we can begin see the deeply human Peter who appears in the 1930s.
It was odd reading these two novels, as I'd first seen the DVDs, which were my introduction to the character of Lord Peter Wimsey. Nonetheless, it was quite enjoyable, although I don't really get the dropping the final 'g' of '-ing' words, etc.
"... I'm not goin' to have you askin' questions and lookin' at me in that tone of voice." —p. 60 (Clouds of Witness)