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The skeleton key
The skeleton key. 302 Pages.
189 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1919
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September 25, 2019
Not much of a review but I wanted to jot down a few notes on this book:
This is a short read. The book has a mere 204 pages. And yet, it took me what I perceived as an eternity to finish the book because:
1. The writing drove me nuts:
In an earlier discussion with a fellow reader, I referred the style of writing as that of hearing the voice of Jeeves for the entirety of the book without having the benefit of the grounded interjections of common sense summaries of a Wooster.
Another way to describe the narrative style, which, in addition to the stilted phrasings of a Jeeves, also thrived on an overuse of similes and metaphors is if you picture the film Murder by Death, that excellent spoof of the detective genre, where Peter Sellers plays an "oriental" detective who keeps confounding his fellow guests at a house party with phrases that are so obtuse that it is not clear where we are going. It works a treat in a spoof, but has no place in the actual mystery.
2. The plot...
I had a hunch about the culprit very early on, but could not figure out the motive. It is only in the last few pages of the book that we learn about the why of the murder. Too little, too late, and I really dislike that we are not allowed the relevant information throughout the book to come up with the solution ourselves.
3. I was bored, and I should not have been because there were some very interesting (for their time) observations on social mores in the book. Yet, they were buried in quite a lot of purple prose...so they mostly were lost on me.
Gaaaaah. Next!
This is a short read. The book has a mere 204 pages. And yet, it took me what I perceived as an eternity to finish the book because:
1. The writing drove me nuts:
In an earlier discussion with a fellow reader, I referred the style of writing as that of hearing the voice of Jeeves for the entirety of the book without having the benefit of the grounded interjections of common sense summaries of a Wooster.
Another way to describe the narrative style, which, in addition to the stilted phrasings of a Jeeves, also thrived on an overuse of similes and metaphors is if you picture the film Murder by Death, that excellent spoof of the detective genre, where Peter Sellers plays an "oriental" detective who keeps confounding his fellow guests at a house party with phrases that are so obtuse that it is not clear where we are going. It works a treat in a spoof, but has no place in the actual mystery.
2. The plot...
I had a hunch about the culprit very early on, but could not figure out the motive. It is only in the last few pages of the book that we learn about the why of the murder. Too little, too late, and I really dislike that we are not allowed the relevant information throughout the book to come up with the solution ourselves.
3. I was bored, and I should not have been because there were some very interesting (for their time) observations on social mores in the book. Yet, they were buried in quite a lot of purple prose...so they mostly were lost on me.
Gaaaaah. Next!
February 13, 2019
http://www.crimesegments.com/2019/02/...
I know Capes as a writer of horror/pulpy-ish fiction but not as an author of mystery/crime fiction. Not only was this Capes' first mystery novel, but it was also the first in Collins' Detective Club series, many of which have been reprinted along with their great covers.
A country house in Hampshire is the scene for this story, although it actually begins in France with the meeting of the two main characters, Mr. Vivian Bickerdike and a certain Baron LeSage. Their paths will cross again as they find themselves on the same train heading for the same destination, Hampshire, to the country home of Sir Calvin Kennett, where both have been independently invited. Bickerdike is worried about his friend Hugo Kennett, who is in a dark mood, and Hugo promises to tell all after the upcoming shooting party. But there are more important things that will take precedence first, since during the shooting a young woman ends up dead, and it turns out not to have been an accident but rather a solid case of murder. The police are called and a certain Sergeant Ridgway ("a clever dog!") makes his way to the scene, where he immediately latches on to the men in the house as possible suspects. While Ridgway investigates, Bickerdike does some clandestine sleuthing of his own, looking both at the case and at the Baron, whom he does not particularly trust and certainly dislikes.
The Mystery of the Skeleton Key is definitely best read by people who are true-blue fans of British murder mysteries, especially those set in an English country home. Frankly, it's a bit of a rough go at times, because it has a tendency to be a slow-moving, overly-written and wordy story. It has its moments, especially during the trial, but for the most part it can be a bit of a slog, if you're not used to this sort of thing. The ending, however, was a complete surprise that I never saw coming (and most ingenious, I must say); on the other hand there is absolutely no clue leading up to what is coming down the pike since the Baron is a detective figure who holds his cards quite close to his chest -- we really don't know until the very end exactly how he put two and two together to actually solve the case. It's sort of unfair, really, and when Julian Symons in his Bloody Murder said of this book that Capes "infringed" on the rules governing detective stories, I can see his point. All in all it was the ending that made it an okay read for me.
I know Capes as a writer of horror/pulpy-ish fiction but not as an author of mystery/crime fiction. Not only was this Capes' first mystery novel, but it was also the first in Collins' Detective Club series, many of which have been reprinted along with their great covers.
A country house in Hampshire is the scene for this story, although it actually begins in France with the meeting of the two main characters, Mr. Vivian Bickerdike and a certain Baron LeSage. Their paths will cross again as they find themselves on the same train heading for the same destination, Hampshire, to the country home of Sir Calvin Kennett, where both have been independently invited. Bickerdike is worried about his friend Hugo Kennett, who is in a dark mood, and Hugo promises to tell all after the upcoming shooting party. But there are more important things that will take precedence first, since during the shooting a young woman ends up dead, and it turns out not to have been an accident but rather a solid case of murder. The police are called and a certain Sergeant Ridgway ("a clever dog!") makes his way to the scene, where he immediately latches on to the men in the house as possible suspects. While Ridgway investigates, Bickerdike does some clandestine sleuthing of his own, looking both at the case and at the Baron, whom he does not particularly trust and certainly dislikes.
The Mystery of the Skeleton Key is definitely best read by people who are true-blue fans of British murder mysteries, especially those set in an English country home. Frankly, it's a bit of a rough go at times, because it has a tendency to be a slow-moving, overly-written and wordy story. It has its moments, especially during the trial, but for the most part it can be a bit of a slog, if you're not used to this sort of thing. The ending, however, was a complete surprise that I never saw coming (and most ingenious, I must say); on the other hand there is absolutely no clue leading up to what is coming down the pike since the Baron is a detective figure who holds his cards quite close to his chest -- we really don't know until the very end exactly how he put two and two together to actually solve the case. It's sort of unfair, really, and when Julian Symons in his Bloody Murder said of this book that Capes "infringed" on the rules governing detective stories, I can see his point. All in all it was the ending that made it an okay read for me.
July 26, 2022
Painful…
The story begins in Paris, where Vivian Bickerdike is waiting for the arrival of a friend. He falls into conversation with a stranger, who turns out to be Baron Le Sage. So it’s something of a coincidence when they meet again a short while later, this time as they each make their way to a country house party in Hampshire. The Baron is on his way to play chess with Sir Calvin Kennett, while Bickerdike has been summoned by his friend, Sir Calvin’s son Hugo, a young man of volatile moods who seems to have something on his mind. But before Bickerdike finds out what the trouble is, there’s a murder. One of the maids, Annie Evans, was an unusually good-looking young woman (for a maid), and had been the unintentional cause of a feud between two of her admirers. Now Annie is dead, shot with Hugo’s gun. Enter Sergeant Ridgway of Scotland Yard...
This is dire. The writing is so clunky that many of the sentences are almost indecipherable. Not that it matters, because most of them are pointless waffle anyway. Have an example:
Imagine over 200 pages of this. Imagine my pain.
The plotting is so bad that I would say I lost interest early on, except that would be inaccurate, since in fact at no point did I have any interest to lose. There are no clues cunningly sprinkled for the discerning reader to misinterpret – we simply have to wait for the author to get bored and reveal the solution. Unfortunately it took him far longer to reach that point of ennui than I, so I skipped the last 40%, tuned back in for the solution, laughed hollowly at the ridiculousness of it all, and deleted the book from my Kindle in a marked manner.
I’ve said it before – sometimes the books that Martin Edwards has chosen to include in his The Story of Classic Crime in 100 Books baffle me. I can’t see that this badly-written, rambling nonsense of a book has contributed anything to the development of the mystery novel – anything good, at least – and it certainly isn’t high on entertainment value. However, Edwards says that GK Chesterton found the prose poetic – clearly Chesterton defines that word differently than I. And Julian Symons apparently described the book as ‘a neglected tour de force’. Justifiably neglected, in my opinion.
I often wonder in these cases if it’s simply that I can’t see wonders other people are marvelling over, so I checked the ratings on Goodreads, and no, I am not alone! This has an exceptionally low rating, even though it has been read by very few people and most of them are dedicated vintage crime aficionados. Proving yet again that fellow readers are often the most trustworthy guides.
So, I think it would be safe to say this one falls into the Not Recommended category.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
The story begins in Paris, where Vivian Bickerdike is waiting for the arrival of a friend. He falls into conversation with a stranger, who turns out to be Baron Le Sage. So it’s something of a coincidence when they meet again a short while later, this time as they each make their way to a country house party in Hampshire. The Baron is on his way to play chess with Sir Calvin Kennett, while Bickerdike has been summoned by his friend, Sir Calvin’s son Hugo, a young man of volatile moods who seems to have something on his mind. But before Bickerdike finds out what the trouble is, there’s a murder. One of the maids, Annie Evans, was an unusually good-looking young woman (for a maid), and had been the unintentional cause of a feud between two of her admirers. Now Annie is dead, shot with Hugo’s gun. Enter Sergeant Ridgway of Scotland Yard...
This is dire. The writing is so clunky that many of the sentences are almost indecipherable. Not that it matters, because most of them are pointless waffle anyway. Have an example:
Le Sage, in the course of a pleasant little drive with Audrey, asked innumerable questions and answered none. This idiosyncrasy of his greatly amused the young lady, who was by disposition frankly outspoken, and whose habit it never was to consider in conversation whether she committed herself or anyone else. Truth with her was at least a state of nature – though it might sometimes have worn with greater credit to itself a little more trimming – and states of nature are relatively pardonable in the young. A child who sees no indecorum in nakedness can hardly be expected to clothe Truth.
Imagine over 200 pages of this. Imagine my pain.
The plotting is so bad that I would say I lost interest early on, except that would be inaccurate, since in fact at no point did I have any interest to lose. There are no clues cunningly sprinkled for the discerning reader to misinterpret – we simply have to wait for the author to get bored and reveal the solution. Unfortunately it took him far longer to reach that point of ennui than I, so I skipped the last 40%, tuned back in for the solution, laughed hollowly at the ridiculousness of it all, and deleted the book from my Kindle in a marked manner.
I’ve said it before – sometimes the books that Martin Edwards has chosen to include in his The Story of Classic Crime in 100 Books baffle me. I can’t see that this badly-written, rambling nonsense of a book has contributed anything to the development of the mystery novel – anything good, at least – and it certainly isn’t high on entertainment value. However, Edwards says that GK Chesterton found the prose poetic – clearly Chesterton defines that word differently than I. And Julian Symons apparently described the book as ‘a neglected tour de force’. Justifiably neglected, in my opinion.
I often wonder in these cases if it’s simply that I can’t see wonders other people are marvelling over, so I checked the ratings on Goodreads, and no, I am not alone! This has an exceptionally low rating, even though it has been read by very few people and most of them are dedicated vintage crime aficionados. Proving yet again that fellow readers are often the most trustworthy guides.
So, I think it would be safe to say this one falls into the Not Recommended category.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
December 17, 2025
Ladies and gentlemen, the reason I'm writing this review before the others that have been relegated to the back burner is partly because I completely disagree with the rating this fascinating crime novel has received on Goodreads. As my subscribers, users, and friends who know me well are aware, I'm not picky about any kind of book. I'm an omnivorous reader who reads any genre. You could say I read almost everything, and when it comes to choosing what to read, it depends a lot on instinct, feelings, and hunches. However, I have a predilection for books that haven't received enough attention or have an unfair and insufficient rating, and which, in my opinion, deserve many more readers than they have, and this might be one of those cases. I generally think that each person is unique, but due to the massification of society, which the Frankfurt School philosopher Herbert Marcuse discussed in One-Dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society despite the tension and polarization, especially in the West, we are becoming increasingly similar. It's very difficult to disagree with the majority opinion, and for decades, elites and governments have followed this path. Therefore (though I don't always do this), because the goal is to be as fair, impartial, and objective as possible, and if we like a book and most people agree, we can't disagree. However (and this is one of those rare exceptions), it's comforting not to always think the same as the majority, and this is one of those cases.
The edition of The Mystery of the Skeleton Key by Bernard Capes that I read is a very good edition published by the Spanish publisher Who, which is reissuing classics from the Golden Age of the Detection Club, or the so-called problem novel. I think this novel deserves an extra star for how well-made the edition of Bernard Capes's "The Skeleton Key" is, and for the excellent footnotes it contains. I already had a very pleasant experience with another gem of the genre, The Poisoned Chocolates Case by Anthony Berkeley which, for me, is one of the best detective novels I've ever had the honor of reading, both for its structure and, why not say it, for the politically incorrect ending, which today, in the midst of cancel culture, would be absolutely unthinkable. The author of this novel Bernard Capes had the misfortune of dying from the flu epidemic of the second decade of the last century at a bad time for the Sherlock Holmes novels (https://www.goodreads.com/genres/sher... https://www.goodreads.com/series/4999... ). Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle The Complete Sherlock Holmes was at its peak, and at a time when Anthony Berkeley hadn't yet conceived the idea of creating the Detection Club, whose first president would be my beloved G.K. Chesterton (7014283) (a school of thought that this humble and unworthy servant prefers to the hardboiled style that's currently in vogue). Therefore, *The Mystery of the Skeleton Key*would be a transitional novel, and that's why it has fallen into obscurity, partly explaining the poor rating it may have on Goodreads. There's something our era values highly: a writer doesn't matter if they're mediocre, good, bad, or even just average; what matters is having a core group of fans who are completely devoted to the author they read. Unfortunately, unlike contemporary or current authors, this writer doesn't have that advantage, which leads to a smaller readership and, moreover, makes the few who do read him harsher when evaluating his novels. I believe this has been the case here. Although this novel was praised by three great masters of the genre (specifically, three presidents of the Detection Club, which I think proves this writer is no fool), I'm referring to G.K. Chesterton who, incidentally, wrote the foreword to this novel, which can be found in this edition or in the wonderful essay published by Ediciones Acantilado Cómo escribir relatos policíacos (a must-read book) based on fragmented writings by G.K. Chesterton. Chesterton recommends a book to you (by the way, in his youth he gave his authorization and advised publishers which author should be published, so he has experience and it is not a negligible fact) it is because this book is of great quality or value.
I'm not objective about G.K. Chesterton, especially since Goodreads removed the "Favorite Authors" category (which I wish would return) and the "Author I've Read the Most" category. Users who have been on this app for a while will have noticed that G.K. Chesterton was my favorite author, and also the author whose books I'd read the most. This isn't my only complaint about the app. They also removed the ability for any user to add books to the Goodreads database, reserving this for a select group called "Goodreads Librarians," which disadvantaged people who were doing a better job than the "Goodreads Librarians." They also removed the ability for users to recommend friends to each other. And the last thing I criticize Goodreads for is their plan to eliminate direct messaging and reserve it only for group moderators, when one of the app's main attractions was the ability to stay in touch with whomever you wanted, especially if they were writers. It was a great opportunity to meet your favorite author and exchange something with them that will be stolen from future users of this application. I understand that there can be abuses on this social network: spam, bots, and people with fraudulent intentions. And let's not forget the pernicious use of AI and the fact that it's impossible to know who is behind the messages. I understand the app owners' desire to prioritize the security of current users, but at the cost, as always, of punishing the innocent for the guilty and sacrificing the freedom of its members. I have always defended, and will continue to defend, free will and the responsible use of freedom. I think there's a lack of trust in users. Where did the saying "The customer is always right" go, instead of the company, the executives, or the owner? I believe that despite AI and other unethical practices by users, this company can continue to be run as before. There are self-defense mechanisms such as blocking suspicious accounts or reporting anomalous or harmful behavior to Goodreads itself. Alternatives exist, and unfortunately, the worst ones are always chosen, those that are detrimental to the majority.
Once I've vented my frustration and made a justified complaint about the changes for the worse that Goodreads is implementing, I will continue with my critique. In addition to G.K. Chesterton, I'll also discuss two other outstanding and great writers of detective fiction who were also presidents of the Detection Club. We are referring to Bloody Murder: From the Detective Story to the Crime Novel by Julian Symons and the archivist, bibliophile, and great connoisseur of the detective genre, who also currently holds the position of President of the Detection Club Martin Edwards, raises a question: have three great authors of the detective novel endorsed and praised this gem of the genre? I should warn you that Julian Symons is not exactly known for being flattering or generous when it comes to praising the work of other writers. In fact, I have only seen Julian Symons speak well of two writers G.K. Chesterton and Stanley Ellin of very few others.
The very interesting prologue by G.K. Chesterton, apart from talking about his favorite writers (Charles Dickens is not mentioned, but I'll do it myself), it seems that although France boasts of being the creator of the genre with the novels of Émile Gaboriau with his Lecoq or Tabaré, there were already Edgar Allan Poe his favorite novel G.K. Chesterton were the The Murders in the Rue Morgue despite the idyll with the ape and, prior to him were E.T.A. Hoffmann490], Edward Bulwer-Lytton friend of Dickens himself and of Wilkie Collins author of The MoonstoneThe Woman in White and, prior to them there was the anarchist William Godwin author of Caleb Williams at first these novels were written to justify the criminal and, following the Rousseauian ideology Jean-Jacques Rousseau saying that man is good and, that society had forced the criminal to be so. Dickens had made his contribution to the genre with Bleak House and his posthumous novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood , completed by a disciple, although there were other novels of his in which the criminal element was present. In G.K. Chesterton's time, there was a period of relative neglect of Charles Dickens, and Chesterton himself carried out charitable acts to help Dickens's descendants. To this list of precursors of the detective genre, one could add Honoré de Balzac , Paul Féval père or Fyodor Dostoevsky) Apart from that, G.K. In the prologue to this novel, Chesterton speaks of his predilection for the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson William Makepeace Thackeray´s The Newcomes (besides that, G.K. Chesterton mentions a novel he didn't like by Walter Scott Rob Roy and the confusion between Osbaldistone, the protagonist, and Rasleigh, who, with that name, had to be evil), and E.C. Bentley (author of Trent's Last Case which, ignoring Edgar Allan Poe, G.K. Chesterton always acknowledged as his favorite detective novel, dedicated to G.K. Chesterton) and to whom he dedicated The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare. Apart from that, G.K. Chesterton does something very interesting, which is to vindicate the figure of Bernard Capes and talk to us about his main works (and some of them look very good). Some could be confused with the novel of the same title by Fritz Leiber, author of horror novels and known for being the author of Sword and Sorcery and creator of the duo, or pair, of the Gray Mouser and the barbarian Fahfrd from his Lankhmar novels THE FIRST BOOK OF LANKHMAR & THE SECOND BOOK OF LANKHMAR (Fafhrd and The Gray Mouser), since Bernard Capes's novel is called Our Lady of Darkness, which falls squarely into the category of Gothic and horror novels, and also G.K. Chesterton speaks to us of one of Bernard Capes' qualities, namely his poetic ability, and of another work The Lake of Wine. It is certainly very interesting to rediscover writers from this period, and the prologue invites you to continue.
The story tells of a bohemian nobleman and bon vivant named Vivian Bickerdike who must meet a friend named Hugo Kennet in France because, among other things, he is pressed for money and his friend is delayed, but instead finds a French aristocrat named Le Sage; perhaps Capes' inspiration for this name was the 17th and 18th century French novelist and playwright Alain-René Le Sage of Breton origin and, greatly influenced by Spain among others by Luis Vélez de Guevara (from this author was born LE DIABLE BOITEUX DEVIL inspired by the El Diablo Cojuelo) and from Vicente Espinel was born Gil Blas de Santillana and, Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda (author of the false Don Quixote the apocryphal and, unauthorized second part of the novel by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra). I was fascinated, because I'm usually interested in authors influenced by Spain, as is often the case with Prosper Mérimée, for example, despite his agnosticism and religious indifference. This French nobleman, Le Sage, who physically reminds me of the French actor Gérard Depardieu, nominated for an Academy Award for his role in , Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand continues...
The edition of The Mystery of the Skeleton Key by Bernard Capes that I read is a very good edition published by the Spanish publisher Who, which is reissuing classics from the Golden Age of the Detection Club, or the so-called problem novel. I think this novel deserves an extra star for how well-made the edition of Bernard Capes's "The Skeleton Key" is, and for the excellent footnotes it contains. I already had a very pleasant experience with another gem of the genre, The Poisoned Chocolates Case by Anthony Berkeley which, for me, is one of the best detective novels I've ever had the honor of reading, both for its structure and, why not say it, for the politically incorrect ending, which today, in the midst of cancel culture, would be absolutely unthinkable. The author of this novel Bernard Capes had the misfortune of dying from the flu epidemic of the second decade of the last century at a bad time for the Sherlock Holmes novels (https://www.goodreads.com/genres/sher... https://www.goodreads.com/series/4999... ). Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle The Complete Sherlock Holmes was at its peak, and at a time when Anthony Berkeley hadn't yet conceived the idea of creating the Detection Club, whose first president would be my beloved G.K. Chesterton (7014283) (a school of thought that this humble and unworthy servant prefers to the hardboiled style that's currently in vogue). Therefore, *The Mystery of the Skeleton Key*would be a transitional novel, and that's why it has fallen into obscurity, partly explaining the poor rating it may have on Goodreads. There's something our era values highly: a writer doesn't matter if they're mediocre, good, bad, or even just average; what matters is having a core group of fans who are completely devoted to the author they read. Unfortunately, unlike contemporary or current authors, this writer doesn't have that advantage, which leads to a smaller readership and, moreover, makes the few who do read him harsher when evaluating his novels. I believe this has been the case here. Although this novel was praised by three great masters of the genre (specifically, three presidents of the Detection Club, which I think proves this writer is no fool), I'm referring to G.K. Chesterton who, incidentally, wrote the foreword to this novel, which can be found in this edition or in the wonderful essay published by Ediciones Acantilado Cómo escribir relatos policíacos (a must-read book) based on fragmented writings by G.K. Chesterton. Chesterton recommends a book to you (by the way, in his youth he gave his authorization and advised publishers which author should be published, so he has experience and it is not a negligible fact) it is because this book is of great quality or value.
I'm not objective about G.K. Chesterton, especially since Goodreads removed the "Favorite Authors" category (which I wish would return) and the "Author I've Read the Most" category. Users who have been on this app for a while will have noticed that G.K. Chesterton was my favorite author, and also the author whose books I'd read the most. This isn't my only complaint about the app. They also removed the ability for any user to add books to the Goodreads database, reserving this for a select group called "Goodreads Librarians," which disadvantaged people who were doing a better job than the "Goodreads Librarians." They also removed the ability for users to recommend friends to each other. And the last thing I criticize Goodreads for is their plan to eliminate direct messaging and reserve it only for group moderators, when one of the app's main attractions was the ability to stay in touch with whomever you wanted, especially if they were writers. It was a great opportunity to meet your favorite author and exchange something with them that will be stolen from future users of this application. I understand that there can be abuses on this social network: spam, bots, and people with fraudulent intentions. And let's not forget the pernicious use of AI and the fact that it's impossible to know who is behind the messages. I understand the app owners' desire to prioritize the security of current users, but at the cost, as always, of punishing the innocent for the guilty and sacrificing the freedom of its members. I have always defended, and will continue to defend, free will and the responsible use of freedom. I think there's a lack of trust in users. Where did the saying "The customer is always right" go, instead of the company, the executives, or the owner? I believe that despite AI and other unethical practices by users, this company can continue to be run as before. There are self-defense mechanisms such as blocking suspicious accounts or reporting anomalous or harmful behavior to Goodreads itself. Alternatives exist, and unfortunately, the worst ones are always chosen, those that are detrimental to the majority.
Once I've vented my frustration and made a justified complaint about the changes for the worse that Goodreads is implementing, I will continue with my critique. In addition to G.K. Chesterton, I'll also discuss two other outstanding and great writers of detective fiction who were also presidents of the Detection Club. We are referring to Bloody Murder: From the Detective Story to the Crime Novel by Julian Symons and the archivist, bibliophile, and great connoisseur of the detective genre, who also currently holds the position of President of the Detection Club Martin Edwards, raises a question: have three great authors of the detective novel endorsed and praised this gem of the genre? I should warn you that Julian Symons is not exactly known for being flattering or generous when it comes to praising the work of other writers. In fact, I have only seen Julian Symons speak well of two writers G.K. Chesterton and Stanley Ellin of very few others.
The very interesting prologue by G.K. Chesterton, apart from talking about his favorite writers (Charles Dickens is not mentioned, but I'll do it myself), it seems that although France boasts of being the creator of the genre with the novels of Émile Gaboriau with his Lecoq or Tabaré, there were already Edgar Allan Poe his favorite novel G.K. Chesterton were the The Murders in the Rue Morgue despite the idyll with the ape and, prior to him were E.T.A. Hoffmann490], Edward Bulwer-Lytton friend of Dickens himself and of Wilkie Collins author of The MoonstoneThe Woman in White and, prior to them there was the anarchist William Godwin author of Caleb Williams at first these novels were written to justify the criminal and, following the Rousseauian ideology Jean-Jacques Rousseau saying that man is good and, that society had forced the criminal to be so. Dickens had made his contribution to the genre with Bleak House and his posthumous novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood , completed by a disciple, although there were other novels of his in which the criminal element was present. In G.K. Chesterton's time, there was a period of relative neglect of Charles Dickens, and Chesterton himself carried out charitable acts to help Dickens's descendants. To this list of precursors of the detective genre, one could add Honoré de Balzac , Paul Féval père or Fyodor Dostoevsky) Apart from that, G.K. In the prologue to this novel, Chesterton speaks of his predilection for the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson William Makepeace Thackeray´s The Newcomes (besides that, G.K. Chesterton mentions a novel he didn't like by Walter Scott Rob Roy and the confusion between Osbaldistone, the protagonist, and Rasleigh, who, with that name, had to be evil), and E.C. Bentley (author of Trent's Last Case which, ignoring Edgar Allan Poe, G.K. Chesterton always acknowledged as his favorite detective novel, dedicated to G.K. Chesterton) and to whom he dedicated The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare. Apart from that, G.K. Chesterton does something very interesting, which is to vindicate the figure of Bernard Capes and talk to us about his main works (and some of them look very good). Some could be confused with the novel of the same title by Fritz Leiber, author of horror novels and known for being the author of Sword and Sorcery and creator of the duo, or pair, of the Gray Mouser and the barbarian Fahfrd from his Lankhmar novels THE FIRST BOOK OF LANKHMAR & THE SECOND BOOK OF LANKHMAR (Fafhrd and The Gray Mouser), since Bernard Capes's novel is called Our Lady of Darkness, which falls squarely into the category of Gothic and horror novels, and also G.K. Chesterton speaks to us of one of Bernard Capes' qualities, namely his poetic ability, and of another work The Lake of Wine. It is certainly very interesting to rediscover writers from this period, and the prologue invites you to continue.
The story tells of a bohemian nobleman and bon vivant named Vivian Bickerdike who must meet a friend named Hugo Kennet in France because, among other things, he is pressed for money and his friend is delayed, but instead finds a French aristocrat named Le Sage; perhaps Capes' inspiration for this name was the 17th and 18th century French novelist and playwright Alain-René Le Sage of Breton origin and, greatly influenced by Spain among others by Luis Vélez de Guevara (from this author was born LE DIABLE BOITEUX DEVIL inspired by the El Diablo Cojuelo) and from Vicente Espinel was born Gil Blas de Santillana and, Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda (author of the false Don Quixote the apocryphal and, unauthorized second part of the novel by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra). I was fascinated, because I'm usually interested in authors influenced by Spain, as is often the case with Prosper Mérimée, for example, despite his agnosticism and religious indifference. This French nobleman, Le Sage, who physically reminds me of the French actor Gérard Depardieu, nominated for an Academy Award for his role in , Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand continues...
October 3, 2020
The main action of our story takes place at Wildshott, the Hampshire seat of the Kennetts, though it opens in France and the tragedy has its roots there as well. Sir Calvin and his son have each invited friends down for the weekend. Baron Le Sage will be on hand to offer Sir Calvin a battle at the chessboard and Hugo Kennett has sent an urgent message to his friend, Mr. Bickerdike begging for his assistance in some mysterious problem (Kennett is apt to blow minor contretemps into major catastrophes). Also among the party throughout the weekend are Sir Calvin's daughter, Audrey, and their neighbor Sir Francis Orsden, Audrey's ardent admirer.
Tragedy strikes after shooting party attended by the young men when the body of one of the maids is found shot to death on a deserted pathway. Hugo had stopped to light a cigarette and exchange a few words with the young woman and carelessly left his shotgun leaning against a tree. Suspicion focuses on various members of the household from the Baron's valet who fancied himself a romantic conqueror to the butler who had considered the girl his until the Gallic casanova came along to Hugo who had dallied with the girl himself. Le Sage may seem to be nothing more than a genial houseguest intent on a game of chess with his host, but the clever young Sergeant Ridgway who is assigned to the case soon finds that chess strategies aren't the only puzzles the baron can unravel.
Bickerdike, who comes across as a very pompous young man, also tries his hand at sleuthing, but fastens his attention on the Baron. He has thought there was something not quite right about the man from their first chance meeting in Paris (in our opening scenes). He noticed immediately that "[the Baron] could not, or would not, answer a direct question directly; he seemed to love secrecy and evasion for their own sake, and for the opportunity they gave him for springing some valueless surprises on the unsuspecting." Bickerdike also observes his man behaving most peculiarly late one night in Sir Calvin's study and definitely suspects the worst.
This may have been quite thrilling back in 1919 when it was published and folks were a little more used to the style of writing and hadn't already encountered a similar solution. But Capes takes a long time to get where he's going with some of his paragraphs. It's particularly rough going when we're getting the point of Bickerdike--who keeps his journal in the same pompous style as he conducts his social interactions. I much preferred the third person sections of the novel. I'd say that this mystery is definitely for those who have a deep affection for early British detective novels and who can appreciate the early forms of their beloved mysteries.
The solution didn't come as a surprise to me--I thought it was telegraphed pretty plainly even though there weren't any real clues that the reader was allowed to see. Baron Le Sage follows in the footsteps of Sherlock Holmes and keeps what clues he finds very close to his chest* so there isn't any way to spot the criminal except through inference--but, for all that, I do like the character of Le Sage and wish that Capes had lived long enough to provide us with some more adventures.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.
Tragedy strikes after shooting party attended by the young men when the body of one of the maids is found shot to death on a deserted pathway. Hugo had stopped to light a cigarette and exchange a few words with the young woman and carelessly left his shotgun leaning against a tree. Suspicion focuses on various members of the household from the Baron's valet who fancied himself a romantic conqueror to the butler who had considered the girl his until the Gallic casanova came along to Hugo who had dallied with the girl himself. Le Sage may seem to be nothing more than a genial houseguest intent on a game of chess with his host, but the clever young Sergeant Ridgway who is assigned to the case soon finds that chess strategies aren't the only puzzles the baron can unravel.
Bickerdike, who comes across as a very pompous young man, also tries his hand at sleuthing, but fastens his attention on the Baron. He has thought there was something not quite right about the man from their first chance meeting in Paris (in our opening scenes). He noticed immediately that "[the Baron] could not, or would not, answer a direct question directly; he seemed to love secrecy and evasion for their own sake, and for the opportunity they gave him for springing some valueless surprises on the unsuspecting." Bickerdike also observes his man behaving most peculiarly late one night in Sir Calvin's study and definitely suspects the worst.
This may have been quite thrilling back in 1919 when it was published and folks were a little more used to the style of writing and hadn't already encountered a similar solution. But Capes takes a long time to get where he's going with some of his paragraphs. It's particularly rough going when we're getting the point of Bickerdike--who keeps his journal in the same pompous style as he conducts his social interactions. I much preferred the third person sections of the novel. I'd say that this mystery is definitely for those who have a deep affection for early British detective novels and who can appreciate the early forms of their beloved mysteries.
The solution didn't come as a surprise to me--I thought it was telegraphed pretty plainly even though there weren't any real clues that the reader was allowed to see. Baron Le Sage follows in the footsteps of Sherlock Holmes and keeps what clues he finds very close to his chest* so there isn't any way to spot the criminal except through inference--but, for all that, I do like the character of Le Sage and wish that Capes had lived long enough to provide us with some more adventures.
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.
February 16, 2019
This is an odd little book. If I were asked to paraphrase the opening it would go like this:
Two men sitting at an outdoor cafe in Paris. One, claiming to be a Baron, starts talking to the other. they both observe a man at another table sketching hats. The Baron disappears until he pops up again weeks later in a London smoking club. Coincidence? Then they meet again as our narrator is at a train station about to depart on a trip to see a friend in the country. The “Baron” surprise of all surprises, is going to the same place and guess what, he knows the friend our narrator does! Funny how he never mentioned that before even though our narrator had mentioned the aforementioned friend on multiple occasions. So off they go!
And then nothing happens until the last 50 or so pages of the book. There is some hunting, some suspicions, but mostly a whole lot of nothing.
The denouement is clever, at the very least plausible I suppose but not that original or interesting.
This was an ok mystery. Nice to pass the time but nothing too special.
Two men sitting at an outdoor cafe in Paris. One, claiming to be a Baron, starts talking to the other. they both observe a man at another table sketching hats. The Baron disappears until he pops up again weeks later in a London smoking club. Coincidence? Then they meet again as our narrator is at a train station about to depart on a trip to see a friend in the country. The “Baron” surprise of all surprises, is going to the same place and guess what, he knows the friend our narrator does! Funny how he never mentioned that before even though our narrator had mentioned the aforementioned friend on multiple occasions. So off they go!
And then nothing happens until the last 50 or so pages of the book. There is some hunting, some suspicions, but mostly a whole lot of nothing.
The denouement is clever, at the very least plausible I suppose but not that original or interesting.
This was an ok mystery. Nice to pass the time but nothing too special.
January 5, 2019
Reviewed for the Bibliophibian.
I didn’t know anything about Bernard Capes before reading this, only that this was a reissue of a Golden Age crime fiction book, much in the same line as the British Library Crime Classics. Good enough for me, at least when I’m in the mood to tune out and just read an old-timey mystery: this pretty much delivered on that, though it’s hardly the most original or the most exciting of that line I’ve read.
It actually takes a long time for the story to explain why it’s The Mystery of the Skeleton Key; at times, I was actually tempted to check the right book was inside that slipcover! After a long preamble involving some of the characters meeting in Paris, and a bit of mystery about a Baron who plays chess for half-a-crown and frequents the oddest places, eventually there is actually a murder to be investigated. The wrong people are accused, the timings are all mixed up, and the son of the house (because if it’s not quite a country house mystery, it’s definitely set in a country house) is implicated because the girl who gets murdered — killed with a shot from his gun — was pregnant with his child.
In the end, the solution relies on coincidence, spurious old-fashioned science (a man inherits an injury-induced mannerism from his father due to the fact that his mother saw his father with the injury while pregnant with him), and various people not being quite who/what they say they are. I think it’s actually quite interesting in terms of who the culprit turns out to be — not a common solution, and against Knox’s Ten Commandments in a sense — but otherwise there’s not much to set it apart, and in tone it’s fairly dry and without any sense of urgency. My main feeling was mild curiosity, and that’s about it. Nothing terrible, but nor is it something I’d recommend.
I didn’t know anything about Bernard Capes before reading this, only that this was a reissue of a Golden Age crime fiction book, much in the same line as the British Library Crime Classics. Good enough for me, at least when I’m in the mood to tune out and just read an old-timey mystery: this pretty much delivered on that, though it’s hardly the most original or the most exciting of that line I’ve read.
It actually takes a long time for the story to explain why it’s The Mystery of the Skeleton Key; at times, I was actually tempted to check the right book was inside that slipcover! After a long preamble involving some of the characters meeting in Paris, and a bit of mystery about a Baron who plays chess for half-a-crown and frequents the oddest places, eventually there is actually a murder to be investigated. The wrong people are accused, the timings are all mixed up, and the son of the house (because if it’s not quite a country house mystery, it’s definitely set in a country house) is implicated because the girl who gets murdered — killed with a shot from his gun — was pregnant with his child.
In the end, the solution relies on coincidence, spurious old-fashioned science (a man inherits an injury-induced mannerism from his father due to the fact that his mother saw his father with the injury while pregnant with him), and various people not being quite who/what they say they are. I think it’s actually quite interesting in terms of who the culprit turns out to be — not a common solution, and against Knox’s Ten Commandments in a sense — but otherwise there’s not much to set it apart, and in tone it’s fairly dry and without any sense of urgency. My main feeling was mild curiosity, and that’s about it. Nothing terrible, but nor is it something I’d recommend.
September 13, 2018
An interesting, if somewhat uneven, mystery from 1919. The viewpoint alternates between the personal narrative of a Mr. Bickerdike, and the usual omniscient narrator. Mr. Bickerdike meets a Baron Le Sage in Paris and then encounters him again as a fellow guest to the Kennett estate. The Baron is there to play chess with General Kennett, and Bickerdike as a friend of young Hugo. Hugo, always a somewhat unbalanced character, is in a state of nervous excitement that Bickerdike, who's a bit of a self-satisfied prig, can't make sense of. When an extremely pretty maid is found murdered, all suspicion falls on Hugo. Sergeant Ridgway fairly haunts the estate, examining all clues and interrogating everyone. But the Baron has a couple of aces up his sleeve as well.
The best part of the book was the character of the Baron, whose imperturbable calm is enough to drive Bickerdike up the wall. He comes up with the most ingenious deductions and keeps the action going. The weakness of the book, in modern eyes, is that it doesn't play fair with the reader : the solution of the mystery is dependent on knowledge not available to the reader. So while all the loose ends are neatly tied up, it is not done in a totally satisfying manner. Still, a good read for the lover of the classic Golden Age mystery.
The best part of the book was the character of the Baron, whose imperturbable calm is enough to drive Bickerdike up the wall. He comes up with the most ingenious deductions and keeps the action going. The weakness of the book, in modern eyes, is that it doesn't play fair with the reader : the solution of the mystery is dependent on knowledge not available to the reader. So while all the loose ends are neatly tied up, it is not done in a totally satisfying manner. Still, a good read for the lover of the classic Golden Age mystery.
December 23, 2024
No creo que llegue a 3 estrellas, pero tampoco me deja puntuar esto con un 2,75.
La novela tiene interés desde el punto de vista de ser un "murder mystery" clásico (editado en 1919) que juega con una narrador no fiable, en el sentido de que actúa movido por prejuicios y desconoce varios asuntos de la trama. Entiendo que en su época esto era más novedoso y la gente no estaba tan acostumbrada, pero leído ahora sabes que el narrador está cometiendo un error.
Por otra parte, es imposible descubrir al asesino, porque el autor oculta varias pistas críticas. De hecho, la "llave maestra" a la que alude el título aparece justo en las últimas páginas del libro y hasta entonces no sabías de su importancia, porque nadie la había mencionado.
Interesante desde el punto de vista de conocer el desarrollo histórico del género, flojilla como novela de "murder mystery".
La novela tiene interés desde el punto de vista de ser un "murder mystery" clásico (editado en 1919) que juega con una narrador no fiable, en el sentido de que actúa movido por prejuicios y desconoce varios asuntos de la trama. Entiendo que en su época esto era más novedoso y la gente no estaba tan acostumbrada, pero leído ahora sabes que el narrador está cometiendo un error.
Por otra parte, es imposible descubrir al asesino, porque el autor oculta varias pistas críticas. De hecho, la "llave maestra" a la que alude el título aparece justo en las últimas páginas del libro y hasta entonces no sabías de su importancia, porque nadie la había mencionado.
Interesante desde el punto de vista de conocer el desarrollo histórico del género, flojilla como novela de "murder mystery".
September 4, 2025
There is a story in here but it really doesn't want to come out. Lordy, this was a slow slow drag. And by the end, when the solution painfully comes out, it's like the entire book you just read has bugger all to do with and here are all the reasons and characters involved. Although not in a clever way that would make you gasp, it was all there and I never saw it! Rather a whole lot of stuff we were never privy to on any level. There's not really much about this book to recommend it.
December 11, 2018
2 1/2 stars. A mystery with some clues that are withheld from the reader so it isn't that easy to figure it out and why, though there are some clues that might lend itself to giving the reader an idea. Many sentences are more elaborate than necessary. It wasn't always too much description or even people blabbing but just too much wordage.
July 17, 2020
This is a very Victorian novel and not a very good mystery. It is reminiscent of Willkie Collins but not as good. It's characters are stereotypical both in terms of class and nationality. It breaks many of the Ronald Knox 10 commandments. So I was not impressed. It took me a real effort to finish it.
August 27, 2024
What a slog! There is a decent mystery somewhere between these pages, but it's lost in all the needlessly wordy passages. The reveal is both disappointing and intriguing. Disappointing because the most important clues are hidden from the reader until the end. Intriguing because it's the most interesting part of the book, even though it relies too heavily on coincidences.
August 31, 2024
Not very good despite its influence on the genre. There's a good premise and the detective M. le Baron is great as a forerunner of Poirot. However, it doesn't 'play fair' with the reader as it leaves important evidence hidden until the denouement. Also the principal first person narrator, Vivian Bickerdike, is extremely annoying.
July 6, 2025
Boring, I kept wanting it to get moving. Finally sped the audio up so I could get through it more quickly. Characters are annoying - especially the Baron. But the pace of the story was so much better at 1.45 speed!
The other two-star reviewers do a good job of expressing most of what I was thinking - read them.
The other two-star reviewers do a good job of expressing most of what I was thinking - read them.
June 24, 2018
Gave up on this an hour and a half into the 7h40m audiobook.
The first 20 minutes was fine, and then it became utterly pointless and stayed that way. No mystery yet and it kept dragging. Life is too short for bad books.
The first 20 minutes was fine, and then it became utterly pointless and stayed that way. No mystery yet and it kept dragging. Life is too short for bad books.
October 15, 2020
This promised well, not least with an introduction by Chesterton, who was always a shrewd reader. And it's 1919 so more in period with Conan Doyle than Christie, and that has some charm. But the puzzle is nsatisfying, with mystery key withheld from reader till pages before the denouement.
February 9, 2020
A subpar country house mystery, with enough to keep me reading until the end, but not enough to make me ever want to read this again.
March 1, 2021
Excellent !
Nothing much to be said here,an unusual structure well written. You either like the Victorians or you don’t, I do.
Nothing much to be said here,an unusual structure well written. You either like the Victorians or you don’t, I do.
February 3, 2022
fun stories
September 5, 2022
Interesting characters, twisty story, but POV switches often and head hopping becomes tiresome. Also, a lot of telling and not showing.
July 15, 2023
I enjoyed the start but the end was dull.
January 27, 2024
Reminds me of Wilkie Collins of the 1860s in terms of its plotting. Definitely a transitional work.
January 15, 2025
3.5. Language was turn of the century, 1900s. “Utterly cumbersome”.🤓 took forever to read. The mystery itself was good, although all the solving info was on the last 2 chapters .
September 22, 2023
3,5 🌟
October 17, 2016
Loved it! A real old fashioned whodunit from the golden age of detective stories. Published in 1919 this was one of the early contributions to the genre, and I’m sure went on to influence many more famous works to come. I'm sure Agatha Christies read this for example, as there are several bits that could well have influenced some of her later stories. Today, a hundred years on, we are perhaps used to slightly more realistic and believable plots. The coincidences that eventually unmasked the killer were so farfetched it completely stretched any creditability, but for me that was part of the book's charm. It really was like travelling back in time and being almost at the birth of crime fiction. Great fun and a great read.
June 15, 2017
For my full review click on my link below:
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...
February 1, 2016
I found this really hard to get into, but it was ok in the end. I was a bit disappointed I felt so disengaged in it as it's such a forerunner of the Golden Age books I love so much. Hey ho.
Want to read
May 11, 2025Synopsis: a tragic accident occurs during a shooting party. The story switches between Paris and Hampshire; it begins to look like murder.
November 29, 2007
Very good example of the Golden Age of (British) detective fiction.
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