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The Horizontal Man
Kevin Boyle was found dead among his books, the base of his skull crushed. There were plenty of suspects—Boyle had broken some hearts and then boasted of it. But the whole ghastly incident might have been buried under nervous, brittle, academic chit-chat if stubborn young Kate Innes hadn't become determined to unravel the mystery. Her snooping at Hollymount College turned over some long-undisturbed stones—and exposed some very surprising facts to light...
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1945
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609 people want to read
About the author
Helen Eustis
13 books9 followersHelen Eustis (1916-) is an American translator (from French) whose reputation rests on two novels: The Horizontal Man (1946), which received an Edgar, and The Fool Killer (1954). Eustis was born in Cincinnati Ohio and educated at Columbia University New York. She was married to Alfred Young Fisher and later Martin Harris, and worked briefly as a copywriter. She has also written a children's story, Mr Death and the Redheaded Woman. The Fool Killer was made into a horror movie staring Anthony Perkins in a role not unlike that of his Psycho character Norman Bates.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 98 reviews
June 28, 2022
The Horizontal Man is the third of four crime novels written by women in the 1940s, that I just finished reading. All four were very good, but this one includes humor, so it made me smile with my heart.
A so-called (by himself) Lothario of an English professor gets clobbered over the head and killed in his apartment. A young college student from the girls' college that he teaches at confesses to the murder. Several wise and well-intentioned people don't think this is true and work at solving the mystery.
Two of my favorite characters from the story are a rational and down-to-earth psychiatrist with a calming bedside manner and a college girl who is smart, spunky and kind, Kate Innes, who feels she is partly responsible for the poor girl's confession and wants to make amends.
There is a bit of fat shaming aimed at Kate and the villain of the piece is easy to figure out, but the characterization is particularly good and the comic bits are delightful.
A so-called (by himself) Lothario of an English professor gets clobbered over the head and killed in his apartment. A young college student from the girls' college that he teaches at confesses to the murder. Several wise and well-intentioned people don't think this is true and work at solving the mystery.
Two of my favorite characters from the story are a rational and down-to-earth psychiatrist with a calming bedside manner and a college girl who is smart, spunky and kind, Kate Innes, who feels she is partly responsible for the poor girl's confession and wants to make amends.
There is a bit of fat shaming aimed at Kate and the villain of the piece is easy to figure out, but the characterization is particularly good and the comic bits are delightful.
June 21, 2020
“See how avidly we devour all accounts of crime, or detective stories!.... The pleasure of vicarious violence, and the pleasure at the detection and punishment of the crime of another. In the first we can enjoy the emotional outlet without undertaking the penalty, and in the second we can shiver deliciously with the knowledge that we cannot be found out, since our share in the business was secret, and of the mind.”
Kevin Boyle, the handsome, young professor at the girl’s school Hollymount College, is found murdered in his apartment. Suspects include a lovesick student and several of his fellow professors. Trying to solve the case are the newspaper reporter Jack Donelly and student Kate Innes. But the case winds up being solved by a psychiatrist.
This book was originally published in 1946 and won an Edgar Award. It feels very dated now, but might be of interest to people who really love 1940s entertainment. You know, the time when wisecracking young reporters and plucky gals met cute. After some sparring, true love ensues. The only wrinkle here is the number of times the author points out that the plucky gal is “dumpy”, or as the reporter refers to her, a “fat cookie”.
The book held my interest, but it was really pretty strange. It felt like the author had taken a clinical psychology class in college and tried to work every chapter into her mystery. The book was a little hard to read because there were no chapter breaks, so you had no warning when the scene changed. I don’t know whether this is the way the author wrote the book or it is a defect in the ARC that I read. I just know that it was very jarring. The book held my interest but I don’t think that I will read more by this author.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
Kevin Boyle, the handsome, young professor at the girl’s school Hollymount College, is found murdered in his apartment. Suspects include a lovesick student and several of his fellow professors. Trying to solve the case are the newspaper reporter Jack Donelly and student Kate Innes. But the case winds up being solved by a psychiatrist.
This book was originally published in 1946 and won an Edgar Award. It feels very dated now, but might be of interest to people who really love 1940s entertainment. You know, the time when wisecracking young reporters and plucky gals met cute. After some sparring, true love ensues. The only wrinkle here is the number of times the author points out that the plucky gal is “dumpy”, or as the reporter refers to her, a “fat cookie”.
The book held my interest, but it was really pretty strange. It felt like the author had taken a clinical psychology class in college and tried to work every chapter into her mystery. The book was a little hard to read because there were no chapter breaks, so you had no warning when the scene changed. I don’t know whether this is the way the author wrote the book or it is a defect in the ARC that I read. I just know that it was very jarring. The book held my interest but I don’t think that I will read more by this author.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
July 27, 2020
A really interesting campus satire / murder mystery / Freudian examination of the American psyche. The multiple points of view in the novel showcase the deep inner worlds of all the characters, and the academic satire was funny. And it was great to see how my perception of each character shifted as I got to live inside of their head - Eustis writes great characters with varied voices, motivations, and styles. But (not surprisingly for a book that's nearly 75 years old) the gender roles have really dated and the core psychological mechanisms are quite outdated.
**Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
**Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a free copy in exchange for an honest review.
March 19, 2024
The Library of America has released a two-volume set "Women Crime Writers" (2015) consisting of eight crime novels written by women in the 1940s and 1950s. It is absorbing to work through this collection which is edited by Sarah Weinman, a scholar of women's crime fiction. Helen Eustis' novel, "The Horizontal Man" (1946) is the second book in the collection and the LOA has released it separately as an e-book. Eustis' novel won the Edgar Award for the best first crime novel but has received little subsequent attention.
The novel is set in an Ivy League women's college in the 1940s. The plot revolves around the brutal murder of a young professor of English, Kevin Boyle who had been attractive to many women. The novel presents a small group of characters and suspects, including Molly Morrisson, a young, impressionable student, two colleagues of Boyle, Marks, and Hungerford, a middle-aged woman who exudes sexuality, Mrs. Cramm. Eustis develops each of her characters well. They are interesting for themselves and for their satirical portrayal of university life as well as for their possible role in the murder. Other characters in the novel include the college president who is anxious to avoid unfavorable publicity for the school, a reporter clumsily investigating the murder, and a psychiatrist Dr. Forstmann.
The book's wry observations about love, college life, and literature are at least as important as the solving of the murder. The book has a heavily psychological, Freudian cast evidenced in the portrayal of Forstmann. This mid-20th century novel shows and accepts social and sexual mores different in many respects from those of today. It is valuable to be reminded of changing perspectives to avoid taking one's own point of view as absolute. At one key point of the novel. Forstmann adopts the words of one of the characters and suggests that life can be viewed as exhibiting a "poetry of unreason". Forstmann explains:
"Because psychiatrists aren't intended to be poets, they're scientists, they're obliged professionally to take the dew off the rose and analyze it as H2O. That's their function. But when, on my busman's holidays, I've thought of madness, it seems more easily explained to me as poetry in action. A life of symbol rather than reality. On paper one can understand Gulliver, or Kafka, or Dante. But let a man go about behaving as if he were a giant or a midget, or caught in a cosmic plot directed at himself, or in heaven or hell, and we feel horror -- we want to disavow him, to proclaim his as far as possible removed from ourselves."
The late Helen Eustis (1916 -- January 11, 2015) attended Smith College and did graduate work at Columbia. She wrote several novels and stories in addition to "The Horizontal Man", including a Civil War novel, "The Fool Killer" which in 1965 was made into a film starring Anthony Perkins. In her latter years, Eustis translated several important books from French including "When I was Old" by Georges Simeon.
I was glad to get to know this fine, little-known novel and to learn something about its author. The LOA and Sarah Wineman deserve kudos for preserving the work of women crime writers, including Helen Eustis, as part of America's literature.
Robin Friedman
The novel is set in an Ivy League women's college in the 1940s. The plot revolves around the brutal murder of a young professor of English, Kevin Boyle who had been attractive to many women. The novel presents a small group of characters and suspects, including Molly Morrisson, a young, impressionable student, two colleagues of Boyle, Marks, and Hungerford, a middle-aged woman who exudes sexuality, Mrs. Cramm. Eustis develops each of her characters well. They are interesting for themselves and for their satirical portrayal of university life as well as for their possible role in the murder. Other characters in the novel include the college president who is anxious to avoid unfavorable publicity for the school, a reporter clumsily investigating the murder, and a psychiatrist Dr. Forstmann.
The book's wry observations about love, college life, and literature are at least as important as the solving of the murder. The book has a heavily psychological, Freudian cast evidenced in the portrayal of Forstmann. This mid-20th century novel shows and accepts social and sexual mores different in many respects from those of today. It is valuable to be reminded of changing perspectives to avoid taking one's own point of view as absolute. At one key point of the novel. Forstmann adopts the words of one of the characters and suggests that life can be viewed as exhibiting a "poetry of unreason". Forstmann explains:
"Because psychiatrists aren't intended to be poets, they're scientists, they're obliged professionally to take the dew off the rose and analyze it as H2O. That's their function. But when, on my busman's holidays, I've thought of madness, it seems more easily explained to me as poetry in action. A life of symbol rather than reality. On paper one can understand Gulliver, or Kafka, or Dante. But let a man go about behaving as if he were a giant or a midget, or caught in a cosmic plot directed at himself, or in heaven or hell, and we feel horror -- we want to disavow him, to proclaim his as far as possible removed from ourselves."
The late Helen Eustis (1916 -- January 11, 2015) attended Smith College and did graduate work at Columbia. She wrote several novels and stories in addition to "The Horizontal Man", including a Civil War novel, "The Fool Killer" which in 1965 was made into a film starring Anthony Perkins. In her latter years, Eustis translated several important books from French including "When I was Old" by Georges Simeon.
I was glad to get to know this fine, little-known novel and to learn something about its author. The LOA and Sarah Wineman deserve kudos for preserving the work of women crime writers, including Helen Eustis, as part of America's literature.
Robin Friedman
October 8, 2017
This was a weird book, just weird.
First off, it's about a popular, handsome, debonair, poetic, young male teacher of English literature at a posh or elite girls' college circa 1943 or so. He's found dead, bludgeoned by a fireplace poker. (Pokers can come in so handy.) This happens on the very first page but the reader has no idea whodunnit.
The book moves along from various POVs: the dead man's neighbor across the hall; a fellow teacher and writer; a student infatuated with the dead man; a female teacher who's dried up at age 42 but willing to flirt with - or sleep with - anyone who's handy. (Please note: overuse of word 'handy.') There's also a 'chubby' female student who gets involved with a wise-guy reporter. It's actually these two who sort of pull the novel from scene to scene.
The problem is there's too much running around, rushing here and there, too much melodrama. The girl who adores the dead guy admits to killing him and is promptly rushed to a psychiatric hospital. She screams; she cries; she rants and raves. I suppose this is to be expected in a 1940's era novel, but nah, I've read a lot from this era, so not so much. It's just a handy place to stick a suspect where they'll more or less stay put.
The best thing about the book is this, though: the twist, or whodunnit, which is marvelously done. I was absolutely stunned/flabbergasted/surprised at the ending, and for its time, it made perfect sense. I missed it! Shoulda seen it!
So a fun read, an exhausting read. Lots of drama, big scenes, people shouting and rushing hither and yon.
Three stars.
First off, it's about a popular, handsome, debonair, poetic, young male teacher of English literature at a posh or elite girls' college circa 1943 or so. He's found dead, bludgeoned by a fireplace poker. (Pokers can come in so handy.) This happens on the very first page but the reader has no idea whodunnit.
The book moves along from various POVs: the dead man's neighbor across the hall; a fellow teacher and writer; a student infatuated with the dead man; a female teacher who's dried up at age 42 but willing to flirt with - or sleep with - anyone who's handy. (Please note: overuse of word 'handy.') There's also a 'chubby' female student who gets involved with a wise-guy reporter. It's actually these two who sort of pull the novel from scene to scene.
The problem is there's too much running around, rushing here and there, too much melodrama. The girl who adores the dead guy admits to killing him and is promptly rushed to a psychiatric hospital. She screams; she cries; she rants and raves. I suppose this is to be expected in a 1940's era novel, but nah, I've read a lot from this era, so not so much. It's just a handy place to stick a suspect where they'll more or less stay put.
The best thing about the book is this, though: the twist, or whodunnit, which is marvelously done. I was absolutely stunned/flabbergasted/surprised at the ending, and for its time, it made perfect sense. I missed it! Shoulda seen it!
So a fun read, an exhausting read. Lots of drama, big scenes, people shouting and rushing hither and yon.
Three stars.
September 8, 2021
Eustis’ Horizontal Man was her award-winning debut novel, originally published in 1946. Famed as one of the earliest psychological studies in murder mystery format, it’s at its best when it goes inside the mind of young Molly, a lovestruck Freshman at a small women’s college where the girls all swooned over a poetry professor, a heart-breaking wolf whose demise comes very quickly in the novel with a fireplace poker. Molly over dramatizes everything and is whisked off to the infirmary where in short order she confesses to a reporter who snuck in to interview her. Unfortunately, much of the book is clunky and dull and it’s a chore to slog through.
July 9, 2020
"Helen Eustis began writing at eleven and has kept it up to the present day except for a brief period of schizophrenia when she tried to devote herself to housewifery rather more extensively than was compatible with her abilities in that field." (from the author bio to the original edition of this book, per the forward by Charles Finch.)
It was a wild ride reading this book, which is such a product of its time. I really appreciate that the Library of America is publishing more works by female noir authors from the 40s. We have Patricia Highsmith and Dorothy Chandler in the canon, and a few others, but surely there were more female authors who went unrecognized during this time. Eustis is one of them and I was happy to discover her.
This book was funny, but VERY much a book from the 1940s It's about a murder at a women's college, and let's just say a women's college and all its attendant stereotypes in the 40s is a little bit of a shock to the system to a feminist of today. At the same time the author displays wit and spunkiness and some hints of the feminism that was to come in later years. This is a psychological mystery exploring Freudian themes (I cringed at the mentions of "hysteria") with some fun ideas and witty dialogue. Other subplots and scenes probably would have been funner in the time it was published than they were today. (e.g. some scenes relating to the "big brute of a woman," Freda) The story got a little wordy and off on a few too many tangents but it was a fun plot and the writing was good. Some elements of it reminded me of Psycho, but it seems this book came first, which is very interesting. I'd give it a 3.5 for writing and round it up for the good ideas and the importance of reading other female writers of the time.
Thanks to Library of America and NetGalley for making an advance copy of this available to me to read!
It was a wild ride reading this book, which is such a product of its time. I really appreciate that the Library of America is publishing more works by female noir authors from the 40s. We have Patricia Highsmith and Dorothy Chandler in the canon, and a few others, but surely there were more female authors who went unrecognized during this time. Eustis is one of them and I was happy to discover her.
This book was funny, but VERY much a book from the 1940s It's about a murder at a women's college, and let's just say a women's college and all its attendant stereotypes in the 40s is a little bit of a shock to the system to a feminist of today. At the same time the author displays wit and spunkiness and some hints of the feminism that was to come in later years. This is a psychological mystery exploring Freudian themes (I cringed at the mentions of "hysteria") with some fun ideas and witty dialogue. Other subplots and scenes probably would have been funner in the time it was published than they were today. (e.g. some scenes relating to the "big brute of a woman," Freda) The story got a little wordy and off on a few too many tangents but it was a fun plot and the writing was good. Some elements of it reminded me of Psycho, but it seems this book came first, which is very interesting. I'd give it a 3.5 for writing and round it up for the good ideas and the importance of reading other female writers of the time.
Thanks to Library of America and NetGalley for making an advance copy of this available to me to read!
July 19, 2020
"The Horizontal Man"-the title comes courtesy of WH Auden- was first published in 1946, and was the second recipient of the Mystery Writers of America award for best first novel by an American writer. This new volume comes with a Foreword by Charles Finch and some useful notes and biographical information.
It is easy to understand why it won the award. To the readers of the time, its experimental format-there are no chapters, just scenes which collide into each other-, its heavy use of psychoanalytic and psychological tropes, its apparent nods to the "liberated" woman and its "openness" on homosexuality, would have marked it out as notably different to the ordinary run of contemporary crime novels.
However, it has not stood the test of time and, in my view, could not ever find its way into any "Best of..." list. It is tedious. The perpetrator was obvious about 25% of the way through, and I waited in vain for the "twist" which would prove me wrong. The material could have stretched to a fairly taut
short story in the right hands, but here one just wished for the merciful release of the reveal.
There is no detection, just page upon page of undergraduate psychology. Nor could I detect the satire said to exist in the story. There are also attitudes and opinions which many will find objectionable and distasteful. It is, however, of great interest and significance in the history of mystery writing and for that reason should be on the aficionado's list as a must read.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the digital review copy.
It is easy to understand why it won the award. To the readers of the time, its experimental format-there are no chapters, just scenes which collide into each other-, its heavy use of psychoanalytic and psychological tropes, its apparent nods to the "liberated" woman and its "openness" on homosexuality, would have marked it out as notably different to the ordinary run of contemporary crime novels.
However, it has not stood the test of time and, in my view, could not ever find its way into any "Best of..." list. It is tedious. The perpetrator was obvious about 25% of the way through, and I waited in vain for the "twist" which would prove me wrong. The material could have stretched to a fairly taut
short story in the right hands, but here one just wished for the merciful release of the reveal.
There is no detection, just page upon page of undergraduate psychology. Nor could I detect the satire said to exist in the story. There are also attitudes and opinions which many will find objectionable and distasteful. It is, however, of great interest and significance in the history of mystery writing and for that reason should be on the aficionado's list as a must read.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the digital review copy.
March 3, 2016
Reading this in a collection of 40's crime novels. This one was fun--some good dialogue and a true whodunit--but a bit dated, doesn't hold up as well as "Laura" did, in my opinion. This doesn't always bother me, but here the attitudes towards women (which I'm sure are true to the period) are at times a bit hard to take and just as obnoxious as they'd be if a man had written this book. Spoiler Alert: Couldn't help thinking of "Psycho" and wondering if Robert Bloch was influenced by "The Horizontal Man."
April 15, 2020
This book won an Edgar for best first novel in 1946. It's interesting for readers interested in the mystery genre to look back in time and see what was respected in the past. Unfortunately, I found this both dated and uninspired.
Eustis attended Smith College, on which this book is loosely based. I did find it interesting to have a glimpse of life at a women's college in this decade, though it is a very superficial one. But aside from that, "Horizontal Man" had little to recommend itself, and was actually a faintly annoying read.
The fun in mysteries is both in the plot and the characters. The plot here is pretty easy to suss out as you read, and personally I found the outcome unsatisfying. I also cannot point to an interesting and believable character. They are all stereotypes of one kind or another, though they may well have been based on Eustis's actual college professors. Jack Donnelly is your basic cub reporter, Leonard Marks is a garden variety neurotic, and Freda Cramm could have been played on the screen by Margaret Dumont from the Marx Brothers entourage. Most of the characters are also in relationships or friendships which defy credibility. These do not seem people who would be attracted to each other (or maybe I just found all of them unlikable).
I'm guessing this is one of the first mysteries to use psychoanalytic theory. It might have been startling in the 1940's, but it's very old hat stuff today, and comes across as "psychobabble." I kept thinking (along with many other readers) of Hitchcock's "Psycho," but also of the work of Ruth Rendell, both of which explore deviant psychology much more effectively.
I did not find this book to be well-written. The prose is frequently pompous and convoluted, and paragraphs often run longer than they should. Despite that, it reads fairly easily and quickly. Interesting perhaps as a historical artifact, but not satisfying as a mystery, I'm afraid.
Eustis attended Smith College, on which this book is loosely based. I did find it interesting to have a glimpse of life at a women's college in this decade, though it is a very superficial one. But aside from that, "Horizontal Man" had little to recommend itself, and was actually a faintly annoying read.
The fun in mysteries is both in the plot and the characters. The plot here is pretty easy to suss out as you read, and personally I found the outcome unsatisfying. I also cannot point to an interesting and believable character. They are all stereotypes of one kind or another, though they may well have been based on Eustis's actual college professors. Jack Donnelly is your basic cub reporter, Leonard Marks is a garden variety neurotic, and Freda Cramm could have been played on the screen by Margaret Dumont from the Marx Brothers entourage. Most of the characters are also in relationships or friendships which defy credibility. These do not seem people who would be attracted to each other (or maybe I just found all of them unlikable).
I'm guessing this is one of the first mysteries to use psychoanalytic theory. It might have been startling in the 1940's, but it's very old hat stuff today, and comes across as "psychobabble." I kept thinking (along with many other readers) of Hitchcock's "Psycho," but also of the work of Ruth Rendell, both of which explore deviant psychology much more effectively.
I did not find this book to be well-written. The prose is frequently pompous and convoluted, and paragraphs often run longer than they should. Despite that, it reads fairly easily and quickly. Interesting perhaps as a historical artifact, but not satisfying as a mystery, I'm afraid.
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July 31, 2021Ms. Eustis authored a punchy, vibrant mystery. An English professor at Hollymount College falls dead on the second page from a poker’s blow. A whodunit ensues involving the college administration, a therapist, undergraduates, department colleagues and a young reporter. The unattached victim, Kevin Boyle, was something of a heartthrob, offering a few easy suspects. My money was on that shifty Freda Cramm from the first time I met her – I’m pretty good at spotting the criminal type from afar, all will surely agree. This tale is endowed with a youthful energy, which I much enjoyed.
July 5, 2018
Enjoyable in parts but from that era when the culprit's motive stems from their being non-cisheteronormative.
April 9, 2018
Though it took a chapter or two of this 1946 novel for me to warm to Eustis's flamboyant prose, once I did - oh, what an absolute delight. Nominally a murder mystery, The Horizontal Man is more significantly a hilarious skewering of a scandalized midcentury women's college, salted with some sensitive, if a bit tidily Freudian, psychology. It's erudite, insightful, and tremendous fun.
A rakish, handsome young English professor is murdered, and the entire campus of Hollymount College is shaken. (Based on the name, I would have guessed the model was Mount Holyoke, but evidently Eustis studied up the road at Smith.) Eustis paints the members of this campus community with wonderfully vivid insight and literary resonance that ranges from Kafka to Robert Louis Stevenson. There are a lot of characters here - a mousy professor and a brilliant, damaged one; a depressed student, a vapid student, and a prickly smart one; beleaguered administrators, and a thoughtful psychiatrist who muses about the "poetry of unreason," observing that mental disorders are built on symbolism and manifest in metaphor. Each of these characters has a unique voice and rounded complexity, presented with a constant wryness. The mystery itself might not be much to a modern reader - I solved it halfway through, and I'm hardly mystery reader. But it hardly matters, as the mystery isn't the point - the characters and the psychological subtleties of their relationships are.
This review gives a feminist interpretation of all the richness going on in this novel better than I could, highlighting the book's most delightful and brassy character, the dilettante lecturer Freda Cramm. Liberated by an ample divorce settlement, Mrs. Cramm is free to teach at the college as a hobby, and delights in intimidating men who can't make sense out of her sexuality or her power. There's feminist promise in the younger generation, too - in the person of a chubby, bespectacled senior, Kate Innis, who, in the book's only romantic thread, wins the heart of a newspaper reporter with her assertiveness. In one cute interchange, she's treating him with treacly sweetness which he instantly (and with good reason) distrusts. She asks if he expected her to be more crusty, and he replies, "It's the crust that got me."
A rakish, handsome young English professor is murdered, and the entire campus of Hollymount College is shaken. (Based on the name, I would have guessed the model was Mount Holyoke, but evidently Eustis studied up the road at Smith.) Eustis paints the members of this campus community with wonderfully vivid insight and literary resonance that ranges from Kafka to Robert Louis Stevenson. There are a lot of characters here - a mousy professor and a brilliant, damaged one; a depressed student, a vapid student, and a prickly smart one; beleaguered administrators, and a thoughtful psychiatrist who muses about the "poetry of unreason," observing that mental disorders are built on symbolism and manifest in metaphor. Each of these characters has a unique voice and rounded complexity, presented with a constant wryness. The mystery itself might not be much to a modern reader - I solved it halfway through, and I'm hardly mystery reader. But it hardly matters, as the mystery isn't the point - the characters and the psychological subtleties of their relationships are.
This review gives a feminist interpretation of all the richness going on in this novel better than I could, highlighting the book's most delightful and brassy character, the dilettante lecturer Freda Cramm. Liberated by an ample divorce settlement, Mrs. Cramm is free to teach at the college as a hobby, and delights in intimidating men who can't make sense out of her sexuality or her power. There's feminist promise in the younger generation, too - in the person of a chubby, bespectacled senior, Kate Innis, who, in the book's only romantic thread, wins the heart of a newspaper reporter with her assertiveness. In one cute interchange, she's treating him with treacly sweetness which he instantly (and with good reason) distrusts. She asks if he expected her to be more crusty, and he replies, "It's the crust that got me."
January 17, 2021
I was tempted to give this book five stars, but kept it at four largely because there was one chapter near the end that I felt was completely unnecessary. Though it did include three of my favorite characters in the story, a reporter, his college-senior love interest and a brassy divorced English professor, that chapter did nothing to advance the plot and very little to reveal character. Still, this book very deservedly won the 1947 Edgar Award for best first novel. It's got a wonderful cast of characters, almost all of whom are associated with a women's college in Connecticut. Eustis has great fun working with the faculty members she's created as well as with her college President, a man who has an interestingly close relationship with a local psychoanalyst. The murder that sets things off yields several likely suspects, and Eustis doles out clues such that the reader susses out the truth well before the end of the twisty tale.
This novel is the second of four in an anthology called Women Crime Writers; Four Suspense Novels of the 1940s. It's got a companion collection from the 1950s that came as a boxed set, a Christmas present from my nephew. The first book, Laura, reminded me strongly of Raymond Chandler. This one had much more humor in it, which is not to say that Laura lacked humor. This box set makes a great gift for any reader of suspense novels.
This novel is the second of four in an anthology called Women Crime Writers; Four Suspense Novels of the 1940s. It's got a companion collection from the 1950s that came as a boxed set, a Christmas present from my nephew. The first book, Laura, reminded me strongly of Raymond Chandler. This one had much more humor in it, which is not to say that Laura lacked humor. This box set makes a great gift for any reader of suspense novels.
May 18, 2016
Murder, madness and psychosexual drama at a women's college in the forties - if that's not the perfect rainy day read, I don't know what is.
This was apparently the author's debut novel, and she goes all in. There's the plucky college student who goes sleuthing, the cocky reporter who falls for her (and she for him, despite his constant "fatty" and "chubby" remarks), eccentric professors, a hysterical librarian, a majestic divorcee with a healthy sex drive, lovelorn girls with mental problems and a town doctor who has a hard time keeping up with the neuroses.
It's rather overwrought at times, well, almost all of the time, but that's part of the fun. I'm not sure the psychology could withstand a critical review, but then again, that's true for most of modern serial killer depictions too. The big twist is comically obvious from early on, but may not have been so for readers back in the day.
It's clumsy and messy, but if you can get past that (and the hopelessly dated gender stereotypes) it's a very fun read.
This was apparently the author's debut novel, and she goes all in. There's the plucky college student who goes sleuthing, the cocky reporter who falls for her (and she for him, despite his constant "fatty" and "chubby" remarks), eccentric professors, a hysterical librarian, a majestic divorcee with a healthy sex drive, lovelorn girls with mental problems and a town doctor who has a hard time keeping up with the neuroses.
It's rather overwrought at times, well, almost all of the time, but that's part of the fun. I'm not sure the psychology could withstand a critical review, but then again, that's true for most of modern serial killer depictions too. The big twist is comically obvious from early on, but may not have been so for readers back in the day.
It's clumsy and messy, but if you can get past that (and the hopelessly dated gender stereotypes) it's a very fun read.
July 23, 2018
This 1940s suspense novel is set at a women’s college where a popular professor and poet has been murdered. The obvious suspect is a young, hysterical student with a severe crush on the deceased, but a young reporter and another student search for the real culprit. The varied characters, quick pace, academic setting, and humorous asides made this an enjoyable read, although I did get a little tired of the ramblings of the hysterical student
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July 27, 2020Short Version: In 1946, a popular young English professor is murdered at an elite women's college; when a young woman, Molly, confesses, several people doubt her guilt. The rest of the book details the efforts of Molly's classmate, Kate, and an investigative reporter to prove her innocence as several of the professor's colleagues come under suspicion. While the prose is sometimes hard to follow (scenes start and stop with few transitions), multiple character POVs make it difficult to hone in on anyone, and I guessed the killer at the half-way mark, I felt that the writing was descriptive, the world-building complex, and the situation and characters compelling enough to read to the end.
Long Version: First, I want to say that if mine is the first review you read, I'd be careful of looking at others as they spoil the ending. Because reviews that give the entire plot away are among my pet peeves, I will be putting much of this under the spoiler function.
I wanted to read this because like the author, I, too, am a Smith graduate and was eager to read something set at my alma mater. Thus, I was disappointed that -- even allowing for the passage of time -- I recognized almost nothing in the book (Hollymount conjures up Mount Holyoke; it's set in Connecticut, not Northampton; and few of the descriptions match what I remember of place and space). Only references to Amherst, "houses" (what in other schools are called dorms), and the dining situation seem relevant to Smith. From the little reading that I did of The Scarlet Professor: Newton Arvin: A Literary Life Shattered by Scandal, I suspect that the poetry-writing victim is based on the author's husband, Alfred Fisher (who she later divorced; interesting given that she kills him off here), and that Newton Arvin is the prototype for George Hungerford and Leonard Marks (I'd love to know who Freda Cramm may be). I realize, however, that this is something that will interest no other reader (unless she, too, went to Smith), so I'll move on to other aspects.
I had mixed feelings about this book and had to remind myself that its dated depictions of sexual orientation (gay panic), momism, and body type (fat-shaming) are products of its time. Even given that, however, I found the narrative's attitude towards feminism, early LGBTQ+ rights, Freudian psychology, academia, and intellectualism incoherent. I suspect that some of this is deliberate: from what I read about Ms. Eustis, she was irreverent and sarcastic, and, indeed, academia is heavily satirized here. Because I come from an academic family and am an academic myself, I can appreciate this up to the point that it overwhelms the mystery plot.
Below are my reactions by category:
Prose: So, Ms. Eustis can write. As others mention, there are no chapter headings (though my version did have chapter breaks) and scenes would end at a moment of high tension with no transition to the next in ways that were jarring and frustrating to this reader. That said, her descriptions were lovely and evocative.
Characters: This is where it gets complicated; there were so many that it was hard to know who to follow. There's the couple who falls in love by investigation, as it were: the classic "opposites attract," enemies-to-lovers you often find in romantic fiction or 1930s Screwball Comedies (in the book's only nod to the hard-boiled detective tradition, journalist Jack works for a scandal sheet and has a City College education, while the wealthier Kate possesses the mind of an intellectual, and the body and persona of a Girl Friday). Then we have Molly, the putative murderess, the very colorful denizens of the English Department, and Forstmann, the Freudian psychologist treating Molly. Each in their own way contributes to the murder's solution (in fact, Kate and Jack, who I thought would be our main characters, disappear for long stretches); this may be the first mystery I've read in which the detecting is really done by committee (there are no actual detectives depicted and the police are treated as incompetent and barely appear).
Narrative/Mystery: So, I guessed the murderer fairly early on. As other reviewers note, . Because of this and the fact that the red herrings were so glaringly obvious (for example, given her indifference to public opinion, Freda's concern over the letter was absurd), after a while this evolved from a whodunnit to "how to catch them," which I don't find as compelling. In addition, the ending is abrupt -- very much tell and not show since we don't see .
Attitudes Towards Gender: Ms. Eustis' investment in Freudian psychology, which is dated at best and misogynist at worst, makes the book's attitude towards women and gays incoherent. Certainly, Freda and Kate are vibrant, intelligent women who aren't conventionally beautiful and don't care what others think of them. Thus, it's a pity that Kate , that Freda is sometimes depicted as a voracious "man-eater," and that mothers come in for the greatest condemnation and blame while fathers are merely ineffectual (momism). And, of course, given . This development was very disappointing.
The above said, I would recommend this: I did find it compelling enough to read to the end. And you do end up having sympathy for all the characters in the story since Ms. Eustis does a good job with character background and motivation.
Long Version: First, I want to say that if mine is the first review you read, I'd be careful of looking at others as they spoil the ending. Because reviews that give the entire plot away are among my pet peeves, I will be putting much of this under the spoiler function.
I wanted to read this because like the author, I, too, am a Smith graduate and was eager to read something set at my alma mater. Thus, I was disappointed that -- even allowing for the passage of time -- I recognized almost nothing in the book (Hollymount conjures up Mount Holyoke; it's set in Connecticut, not Northampton; and few of the descriptions match what I remember of place and space). Only references to Amherst, "houses" (what in other schools are called dorms), and the dining situation seem relevant to Smith. From the little reading that I did of The Scarlet Professor: Newton Arvin: A Literary Life Shattered by Scandal, I suspect that the poetry-writing victim is based on the author's husband, Alfred Fisher (who she later divorced; interesting given that she kills him off here), and that Newton Arvin is the prototype for George Hungerford and Leonard Marks (I'd love to know who Freda Cramm may be). I realize, however, that this is something that will interest no other reader (unless she, too, went to Smith), so I'll move on to other aspects.
I had mixed feelings about this book and had to remind myself that its dated depictions of sexual orientation (gay panic), momism, and body type (fat-shaming) are products of its time. Even given that, however, I found the narrative's attitude towards feminism, early LGBTQ+ rights, Freudian psychology, academia, and intellectualism incoherent. I suspect that some of this is deliberate: from what I read about Ms. Eustis, she was irreverent and sarcastic, and, indeed, academia is heavily satirized here. Because I come from an academic family and am an academic myself, I can appreciate this up to the point that it overwhelms the mystery plot.
Below are my reactions by category:
Prose: So, Ms. Eustis can write. As others mention, there are no chapter headings (though my version did have chapter breaks) and scenes would end at a moment of high tension with no transition to the next in ways that were jarring and frustrating to this reader. That said, her descriptions were lovely and evocative.
Characters: This is where it gets complicated; there were so many that it was hard to know who to follow. There's the couple who falls in love by investigation, as it were: the classic "opposites attract," enemies-to-lovers you often find in romantic fiction or 1930s Screwball Comedies (in the book's only nod to the hard-boiled detective tradition, journalist Jack works for a scandal sheet and has a City College education, while the wealthier Kate possesses the mind of an intellectual, and the body and persona of a Girl Friday). Then we have Molly, the putative murderess, the very colorful denizens of the English Department, and Forstmann, the Freudian psychologist treating Molly. Each in their own way contributes to the murder's solution (in fact, Kate and Jack, who I thought would be our main characters, disappear for long stretches); this may be the first mystery I've read in which the detecting is really done by committee (there are no actual detectives depicted and the police are treated as incompetent and barely appear).
Narrative/Mystery: So, I guessed the murderer fairly early on. As other reviewers note, . Because of this and the fact that the red herrings were so glaringly obvious (for example, given her indifference to public opinion, Freda's concern over the letter was absurd), after a while this evolved from a whodunnit to "how to catch them," which I don't find as compelling. In addition, the ending is abrupt -- very much tell and not show since we don't see .
Attitudes Towards Gender: Ms. Eustis' investment in Freudian psychology, which is dated at best and misogynist at worst, makes the book's attitude towards women and gays incoherent. Certainly, Freda and Kate are vibrant, intelligent women who aren't conventionally beautiful and don't care what others think of them. Thus, it's a pity that Kate , that Freda is sometimes depicted as a voracious "man-eater," and that mothers come in for the greatest condemnation and blame while fathers are merely ineffectual (momism). And, of course, given . This development was very disappointing.
The above said, I would recommend this: I did find it compelling enough to read to the end. And you do end up having sympathy for all the characters in the story since Ms. Eustis does a good job with character background and motivation.
March 15, 2020
A crime story heavily focused on psychology. A bit outdated, but still an amusing and suspenseful story.
April 17, 2015
The Horizontal Man by Helen Eustis is a murder mystery tautly written in an older, literate style more typical of fiction from the 1940s and 1950s. This book won an Edgar Award for Best First Novel in 1947. Eustis, by the way, passed away in January, 2015 at the age of 98.
The scene is set early. Kevin Boyle, a young English professor, is murdered on the second page of the novel by a poker-wielding assailant. Plenty of suspects abound within the claustrophobic confines of all-girls Hollymount College in Connecticut. Eustis may be evoking memories of her own alma mater, Smith College: “The brick faces of the neo-Gothic buildings shown bleakly in the night.”
Student Kate Innes and Jack Donnelly, a reporter form the local newspaper, set out to investigate the crime. Kate is introduced in one scene as editor of The Holly, presumably the student newspaper, or perhaps a literary magazine. Early on a love-besotted freshman confesses to the murder and is placed in the college Infirmary because of her unbalanced psychological state. Was she really the killer? Or was it Freda Cramm, a loud-mouthed bully of a woman who evidently had a thing for Boyle? Was it his milquetoast (as he is labeled in the text) neighbor, English professor Leonard Marks, or Professor George Hungerford, the most prominent scholar in the department?
Kate and Jack do the requisite sleuthing, even to the point of crashing an English Department party by hiding out in the host’s unheated sun room during a cold winter night. Their diligence leads to many false trails until the murderer is finally discovered by psychologist Dr. Forstmann – although most readers will have figured it out, or at least suspected it, before the reveal.
A word of caution. What passes for witty banter between Jack and Kate would get the young man in trouble today possibly for harassment, or at least gross insensitivity. “Tell you what, Chubby, if I thought you could look other than if you’d just crawled out from under a car, I’d ask you to take in a flick with me Friday night.”
Earlier the president of the college objects to Kate’s appearance in blue jeans and a sweatshirt,” You look terrible. You girls are a blot on the institution of womanhood.”
The modern reader can only cringe and move on, grateful for more enlightened times.
The scene is set early. Kevin Boyle, a young English professor, is murdered on the second page of the novel by a poker-wielding assailant. Plenty of suspects abound within the claustrophobic confines of all-girls Hollymount College in Connecticut. Eustis may be evoking memories of her own alma mater, Smith College: “The brick faces of the neo-Gothic buildings shown bleakly in the night.”
Student Kate Innes and Jack Donnelly, a reporter form the local newspaper, set out to investigate the crime. Kate is introduced in one scene as editor of The Holly, presumably the student newspaper, or perhaps a literary magazine. Early on a love-besotted freshman confesses to the murder and is placed in the college Infirmary because of her unbalanced psychological state. Was she really the killer? Or was it Freda Cramm, a loud-mouthed bully of a woman who evidently had a thing for Boyle? Was it his milquetoast (as he is labeled in the text) neighbor, English professor Leonard Marks, or Professor George Hungerford, the most prominent scholar in the department?
Kate and Jack do the requisite sleuthing, even to the point of crashing an English Department party by hiding out in the host’s unheated sun room during a cold winter night. Their diligence leads to many false trails until the murderer is finally discovered by psychologist Dr. Forstmann – although most readers will have figured it out, or at least suspected it, before the reveal.
A word of caution. What passes for witty banter between Jack and Kate would get the young man in trouble today possibly for harassment, or at least gross insensitivity. “Tell you what, Chubby, if I thought you could look other than if you’d just crawled out from under a car, I’d ask you to take in a flick with me Friday night.”
Earlier the president of the college objects to Kate’s appearance in blue jeans and a sweatshirt,” You look terrible. You girls are a blot on the institution of womanhood.”
The modern reader can only cringe and move on, grateful for more enlightened times.
November 12, 2016
This was an interesting read, and the author used some unusual devices, like stream of consciousness points of view mixed with more limited third-person narration. It is set at as a thinly veiled Smith College.
At about a quarter of the way into the book, I was thoroughly impressed. There was a lot subtle humor deftly done, like the college president's secretary sparing no opportunity to bolster his fragile ego. And one of the stream of consciousness chapters has a passage where the character in question imagines himself stalked by Death, only to have Death say hello--it was just a friendly campus policeman making the rounds.
But then the humor goes by the wayside--except for the chapters focused on the young reporter and his coed fellow sleuth and love interest. And here, unfortunately, the humor is somewhat forced and cliched. It comes across as a B-movie attempt at a "smart" couple.
At about a quarter of the way into the book, I was thoroughly impressed. There was a lot subtle humor deftly done, like the college president's secretary sparing no opportunity to bolster his fragile ego. And one of the stream of consciousness chapters has a passage where the character in question imagines himself stalked by Death, only to have Death say hello--it was just a friendly campus policeman making the rounds.
But then the humor goes by the wayside--except for the chapters focused on the young reporter and his coed fellow sleuth and love interest. And here, unfortunately, the humor is somewhat forced and cliched. It comes across as a B-movie attempt at a "smart" couple.
January 17, 2018
A young literature professor (Boyle) at an all-girls college is fatally whacked over the head with a fireplace poker in his apartment in the first pages of the book. The rest is a whodunnit as we consider the suspects: a freshman (Molly) who had a sickening crush on Boyle, a sexy older divorcee who teaches lit. at the college, the socially awkward neighbor (Leonard), etc. This book was written in the 1940s, and so it has that charming old-fashioned depiction of social relations and manners and clothes. Perhaps the downside for the reader will be that the resolution doesn't seem as surprising today as it did to a reader of the time. I knew who did it and exactly why very early on. There is a nice romance between a cocky newsman and a senior girl (Kate) at the college who are trying to solve the mystery.
March 4, 2020
Thirteen years before shower curtains became terrifying
This book was a sensation when it appeared in 1947 and the author won an "Edgar" for Best First Mystery Novel. It's dated because the main theme (abnormal human psychology) has become a mainstream topic of discussion and is no longer shocking and mysterious. Still, it's important because it fore-shadowed a book that produced a classic movie. It's also worth reading because it has some fine characters and it's a faithful look at a narrow stratum of society in post-WWII America.
Helen Eustus was mysterious herself. She wrote only one mystery and it's been said that she was determined to write one book in every genre. She did write a YA, in addition to translating books from French to English, but I suspect the "book in every genre" was one of her sly jokes. She told a reporter she set her murder mystery at a girls' college because she "knew so many people in college she would like to murder." And in a bio for a paperback edition she claimed to have been a writer all her adult life, except for a "brief period of schizophrenia" in which she was a housewife. Fortunately, there are plenty of examples of her off-beat humor in this book.
We know she graduated from Smith College in 1938. At Smith, she studied art and wrote short stories. She married one of her English professors, so her shrewd look at the students and faculty at a New England college for females was possible because she experienced the life from several angles.
She covers the murder in the first two pages of the book, when a popular, handsome young English professor/poet is beaten to death with a poker in his small apartment near campus. What lay beneath the surface of Kevin Boyle's easy charm and who wanted him dead?
Student Molly Morrison had an obvious "crush" on Boyle, acted oddly before his death, and broke-down completely afterwards. She claims to have caused his death, but offers no details and seems an unlikely candidate for such a brutal murder. Leonard Marks envied Boyle's popularity and sexual conquests, but Marks envies everyone and it seems a poor motive for murder. Freda Cramm is the faculty femme fatale, albeit an ageing one. Did Boyle reject her? Did they have an affair that ended badly?
The one person who seems to have loved Boyle with no reservations is his older colleague George Hungerford. Hungerford is devastated by his friend's death, even moving into the victim's vacant rooms to keep Boyle's memory alive. George desperately needs human connections, but his painful shyness drives people away. Then someone starts playing cruel pranks on him, increasing his isolation. His friend Kevin would have understood how upset he is by the taunting notes left in his study. But Kevin is dead.
The parts about Molly and her mental illness are tedious, probably because it's old hat to us now. A young girl's adoration of an older man is actually a way of dealing with her sexual feelings for her charming, distant father. Her mother is cold and critical, so she's unsure of herself and lacks confidence in her own judgement. Instead of forming normal relationships with boys her age, she punishes herself with a hopeless love for an unattainable male. Dr. Phil would have all this sorted out in no time.
However, "armchair psychoanalysis" was fifty+ years in the future and Molly's obsession is puzzling to the police and to the college's president. He relies on the judgement of local psychiatrist Julian Forstmann, but can Forstmann plumb the depths of Molly's problems quickly enough to save her from being arrested for murder?
While I can't get interested in Molly's problems, I love the character of Freda Cramm. She's the quintessential poor-girl-who-married-money. The marriage ended, but lots of the dough stuck to her. While the rest of the faculty lives in boarding houses, Freda has a luxurious mansion on a hill near campus and entertains lavishly. Widening with age, she's still an attractive, beautifully dressed woman with the confidence of wealth. She seems invincible, but Freda has her weaknesses and doesn't want them to become public property.
I also like President Bainbridge. He's not a modern university CEO, but a teacher who's moved into administration and he deals with a campus full of young girls with exasperated dedication. Like the author's alma mater Smith College, Hollymount takes education seriously, but parents in 1947 expected their daughters to be protected above all else. Wealthy parents sent their daughters to college to learn to talk intelligently, after which they were expected to marry men in their own "class." Murder wasn't supposed to appear on the curriculum.
The routine of the students is a look into the past, with stern dormitory wardens and strict curfews. The students are a varied lot and include seductive, boozy Honey Sacherverai - self-absorbed and flighty, but with moments of unnerving shrewdness. All the boys from nearby men's colleges are after her, but reporter Jack Donelly takes a liking to plump, serious Kate Innes. Their rocky romance is hilarious and completely believable.
Skip over any parts you find boring, but you'll be glad you stuck it out when you get to the end and learn the truth about George Hungerford's odd childhood and his startling quirk. A decade later, another American writer used a similar story line to great effect. The real mystery is why this book was never made into a movie. Maybe Americans wouldn't be ready for the shock for another decade. A successful film-maker must know his audience and what he can get by with. Helen Eustis was a writer ahead of her time, which is why she shouldn't be forgotten.
This book was a sensation when it appeared in 1947 and the author won an "Edgar" for Best First Mystery Novel. It's dated because the main theme (abnormal human psychology) has become a mainstream topic of discussion and is no longer shocking and mysterious. Still, it's important because it fore-shadowed a book that produced a classic movie. It's also worth reading because it has some fine characters and it's a faithful look at a narrow stratum of society in post-WWII America.
Helen Eustus was mysterious herself. She wrote only one mystery and it's been said that she was determined to write one book in every genre. She did write a YA, in addition to translating books from French to English, but I suspect the "book in every genre" was one of her sly jokes. She told a reporter she set her murder mystery at a girls' college because she "knew so many people in college she would like to murder." And in a bio for a paperback edition she claimed to have been a writer all her adult life, except for a "brief period of schizophrenia" in which she was a housewife. Fortunately, there are plenty of examples of her off-beat humor in this book.
We know she graduated from Smith College in 1938. At Smith, she studied art and wrote short stories. She married one of her English professors, so her shrewd look at the students and faculty at a New England college for females was possible because she experienced the life from several angles.
She covers the murder in the first two pages of the book, when a popular, handsome young English professor/poet is beaten to death with a poker in his small apartment near campus. What lay beneath the surface of Kevin Boyle's easy charm and who wanted him dead?
Student Molly Morrison had an obvious "crush" on Boyle, acted oddly before his death, and broke-down completely afterwards. She claims to have caused his death, but offers no details and seems an unlikely candidate for such a brutal murder. Leonard Marks envied Boyle's popularity and sexual conquests, but Marks envies everyone and it seems a poor motive for murder. Freda Cramm is the faculty femme fatale, albeit an ageing one. Did Boyle reject her? Did they have an affair that ended badly?
The one person who seems to have loved Boyle with no reservations is his older colleague George Hungerford. Hungerford is devastated by his friend's death, even moving into the victim's vacant rooms to keep Boyle's memory alive. George desperately needs human connections, but his painful shyness drives people away. Then someone starts playing cruel pranks on him, increasing his isolation. His friend Kevin would have understood how upset he is by the taunting notes left in his study. But Kevin is dead.
The parts about Molly and her mental illness are tedious, probably because it's old hat to us now. A young girl's adoration of an older man is actually a way of dealing with her sexual feelings for her charming, distant father. Her mother is cold and critical, so she's unsure of herself and lacks confidence in her own judgement. Instead of forming normal relationships with boys her age, she punishes herself with a hopeless love for an unattainable male. Dr. Phil would have all this sorted out in no time.
However, "armchair psychoanalysis" was fifty+ years in the future and Molly's obsession is puzzling to the police and to the college's president. He relies on the judgement of local psychiatrist Julian Forstmann, but can Forstmann plumb the depths of Molly's problems quickly enough to save her from being arrested for murder?
While I can't get interested in Molly's problems, I love the character of Freda Cramm. She's the quintessential poor-girl-who-married-money. The marriage ended, but lots of the dough stuck to her. While the rest of the faculty lives in boarding houses, Freda has a luxurious mansion on a hill near campus and entertains lavishly. Widening with age, she's still an attractive, beautifully dressed woman with the confidence of wealth. She seems invincible, but Freda has her weaknesses and doesn't want them to become public property.
I also like President Bainbridge. He's not a modern university CEO, but a teacher who's moved into administration and he deals with a campus full of young girls with exasperated dedication. Like the author's alma mater Smith College, Hollymount takes education seriously, but parents in 1947 expected their daughters to be protected above all else. Wealthy parents sent their daughters to college to learn to talk intelligently, after which they were expected to marry men in their own "class." Murder wasn't supposed to appear on the curriculum.
The routine of the students is a look into the past, with stern dormitory wardens and strict curfews. The students are a varied lot and include seductive, boozy Honey Sacherverai - self-absorbed and flighty, but with moments of unnerving shrewdness. All the boys from nearby men's colleges are after her, but reporter Jack Donelly takes a liking to plump, serious Kate Innes. Their rocky romance is hilarious and completely believable.
Skip over any parts you find boring, but you'll be glad you stuck it out when you get to the end and learn the truth about George Hungerford's odd childhood and his startling quirk. A decade later, another American writer used a similar story line to great effect. The real mystery is why this book was never made into a movie. Maybe Americans wouldn't be ready for the shock for another decade. A successful film-maker must know his audience and what he can get by with. Helen Eustis was a writer ahead of her time, which is why she shouldn't be forgotten.
February 9, 2016
Interesting take on murder and psychology on a college campus in the 1940s. Dealing with the murder of a professor at an all girls’ school, The Horizontal Man creates a rich stew of characters, and bounces pov between them all, creating pyschological portraits of numerous acacdemic types. The mystery is compelling and there are clues and red herrings galore, but the final revelation is not unexpected, having been hidden in plain sight. Few writers could get away with this solution today, but the time, when interest in Freud and psychoanalysis was at a peak, it must have been revelatory.
March 17, 2020
An academic murder mystery with the death of an English professor (they’re the kind of academics that are usually killed). A little heavy on the psychological angst of faculty and students but nicely done with a good Pscyho-like twist.
June 22, 2020
Helen Eustis lived to be 98 years old (she died in 2015), but only published two novels in her lifetime. However, she hit home runs in terms of success with both of them. The latter novel, The Fool Killer (1954), was made into a movie starring Anthony Perkins, and her debut novel, The Horizontal Man (1946) won the Mystery Writers of America’s Edgar Award for Best First Novel. This novel is now being published in an edition for the Library of America, and I have to say that for a book originally published in 1946, it comes across as fresh and vibrant as ever. The Horizontal Man is a knock-out mystery whodunnit set on the campus of a New England women’s college. When a young, womanizing English professor is murdered, a young freshman named Molly who was in love with him takes the blame for the murder — confessing to it right away. However, nobody honestly believes that she did it. The problem is that she doesn’t have an alibi and all of the other usual suspects on faculty all do. So who really did it? Or was it a passing thief — making for a potentially unsolvable case in the era before DNA testing?
What’s interesting about the novel — and I hope this wasn’t a formatting issue on the galley I read on my Kindle — is that there are no chapters or line breaks. The book is one continuous narrative from start to finish, weaving in and out of the characters as they go about their business like a camera floating above the proceedings, recording every move. There are no real edits. A sentence ends with one character, and the next sentence — sometimes in the same paragraph — will then shift to the business of another character in another setting entirely! That means you have to be on your toes as you read The Horizontal Man. Characters and settings change in the blink of an eye. That makes the book a bit of a challenge to read, but, aside from that, you’re in for some grand entertainment here. This is an old-timey detective story from the viewpoints of multiple characters, and the novel may unspool for you — as it did me — in black-and-white in your head. It has that kind of almost film-noir kind of feel, except that this is no hardboiled tale. Not really, not when you set your novel in a women’s college.
Read the rest of the review here: https://medium.com/@zachary_houle/a-r...
What’s interesting about the novel — and I hope this wasn’t a formatting issue on the galley I read on my Kindle — is that there are no chapters or line breaks. The book is one continuous narrative from start to finish, weaving in and out of the characters as they go about their business like a camera floating above the proceedings, recording every move. There are no real edits. A sentence ends with one character, and the next sentence — sometimes in the same paragraph — will then shift to the business of another character in another setting entirely! That means you have to be on your toes as you read The Horizontal Man. Characters and settings change in the blink of an eye. That makes the book a bit of a challenge to read, but, aside from that, you’re in for some grand entertainment here. This is an old-timey detective story from the viewpoints of multiple characters, and the novel may unspool for you — as it did me — in black-and-white in your head. It has that kind of almost film-noir kind of feel, except that this is no hardboiled tale. Not really, not when you set your novel in a women’s college.
Read the rest of the review here: https://medium.com/@zachary_houle/a-r...
December 4, 2024
2.5⭐ A literary murder mystery in a college setting with an interesting psychological explanation for the killing, that would be developed later in a very famous crime/horror movie.
"I’ve thought of madness, it seems most easily explained to me as poetry in action. A life of symbol rather than reality. On paper one can understand Gulliver, or Kafka, or Dante. But let a man go about behaving as if he were a giant or a midget, or caught in a cosmic plot directed at himself, or in heaven or hell, and we feel horror—we want to disavow him, to proclaim him as far removed as possible from ourselves.”
"After its first leap at the sight of him, her heart had sunk to see those broad yet somehow ultimately female shoulders, that flaming, smoothly coiffed head in its molten braids, blocking him off from the rest of the world, precluding the possibility of herself, only a student, invading his grown-up faculty life; preventing her from approaching, asking breathlessly, Is this seat taken? May I sit there? The seat was taken—taken like a besieged city, to be sure, by Mrs. Cramm’s broad possessive buttocks."
"They had the violently defensive look about them that she had seen on the faces of groups of students who feel that their rights have been violated, and who have been indulging their virtuous indignation until they reach such a pitch as to call on sympathetic authorities for aid. Among certain student groups, she herself was regarded as an upholder of free living, and was not infrequently called upon to right real or supposed wrongs of one kind or other. She could not quite figure what the young man had to do with the case—where had she seen his face?—though on second thoughts, of course she could. Instead of answering her, the two of them stood on the stoop, panting a little in the cold, and obviously trying to bring themselves to say something they had not as yet phrased to their own satisfaction."
"I’ve thought of madness, it seems most easily explained to me as poetry in action. A life of symbol rather than reality. On paper one can understand Gulliver, or Kafka, or Dante. But let a man go about behaving as if he were a giant or a midget, or caught in a cosmic plot directed at himself, or in heaven or hell, and we feel horror—we want to disavow him, to proclaim him as far removed as possible from ourselves.”
"After its first leap at the sight of him, her heart had sunk to see those broad yet somehow ultimately female shoulders, that flaming, smoothly coiffed head in its molten braids, blocking him off from the rest of the world, precluding the possibility of herself, only a student, invading his grown-up faculty life; preventing her from approaching, asking breathlessly, Is this seat taken? May I sit there? The seat was taken—taken like a besieged city, to be sure, by Mrs. Cramm’s broad possessive buttocks."
"They had the violently defensive look about them that she had seen on the faces of groups of students who feel that their rights have been violated, and who have been indulging their virtuous indignation until they reach such a pitch as to call on sympathetic authorities for aid. Among certain student groups, she herself was regarded as an upholder of free living, and was not infrequently called upon to right real or supposed wrongs of one kind or other. She could not quite figure what the young man had to do with the case—where had she seen his face?—though on second thoughts, of course she could. Instead of answering her, the two of them stood on the stoop, panting a little in the cold, and obviously trying to bring themselves to say something they had not as yet phrased to their own satisfaction."
November 9, 2019
BOTTOM-LINE:
Doesn't hold up through the years
.
PLOT OR PREMISE:
A professor is killed, and a young student in love with him confesses to the murder. But there are lots of other more likely suspects.
.
WHAT I LIKED:
Eustis won the 1947 Edgar Award for Best First Novel, and it is easy to see why it won. The sense of place is strong, and a strong foreboding all the way through the novel adds some suspense. There is more than a hint of psychological darkness lurking in the shadows.
.
WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE:
There are some parts that just don't hold up. The understanding of mental health disorders were not as rich, and the interactions of the two protagonists are misogynistic to read (he continually calls her fatty and comments when she drinks a beer that there too many calories). There's also an underlying current that women are nothing without a man. Hard to read in 2019, even as historical. The red herrings clear by midway through the novel, and the solution / foreshadowing is obvious, leaving the last 40% of the novel just "get to it, already".
.
DISCLOSURE:
I received no compensation, not even a free copy, in exchange for this review. I am not personal friends with the author, nor do I follow her on social media.
Doesn't hold up through the years
.
PLOT OR PREMISE:
A professor is killed, and a young student in love with him confesses to the murder. But there are lots of other more likely suspects.
.
WHAT I LIKED:
Eustis won the 1947 Edgar Award for Best First Novel, and it is easy to see why it won. The sense of place is strong, and a strong foreboding all the way through the novel adds some suspense. There is more than a hint of psychological darkness lurking in the shadows.
.
WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE:
There are some parts that just don't hold up. The understanding of mental health disorders were not as rich, and the interactions of the two protagonists are misogynistic to read (he continually calls her fatty and comments when she drinks a beer that there too many calories). There's also an underlying current that women are nothing without a man. Hard to read in 2019, even as historical. The red herrings clear by midway through the novel, and the solution / foreshadowing is obvious, leaving the last 40% of the novel just "get to it, already".
.
DISCLOSURE:
I received no compensation, not even a free copy, in exchange for this review. I am not personal friends with the author, nor do I follow her on social media.
November 9, 2019
Although the book starts off with a bang -- within the first couple of pages a man is murdered by having the back of his head caved in with a fireplace poker -- and it also seems whom we know did it, too, the fast-paced beginning rather quickly (if this juxtaposition of "speed" is appropriate) becomes slow and rather plodding.
For me, at least, the characters never came "alive" (and I do not intend a bad pun about the man killed at the very outset!) and I realized, when I was but around half-way through the book, that I really didn't much care "who done it," which is not the ideal sentiment one ought to have in reading a murder-mystery.
Published way back in '45 (2 years after I was born), before television and the instant media that surrounds our daily lives now, it is perhaps not surprising that authors would write books that invited a leisurely, thorough reading.
If you like murder-mysteries, are not put off by a rather meandering pace, and -- in particular -- find novels written back in what many consider the "golden age" of mysteries and noir -- then this book might be for you.
For me, at least, the characters never came "alive" (and I do not intend a bad pun about the man killed at the very outset!) and I realized, when I was but around half-way through the book, that I really didn't much care "who done it," which is not the ideal sentiment one ought to have in reading a murder-mystery.
Published way back in '45 (2 years after I was born), before television and the instant media that surrounds our daily lives now, it is perhaps not surprising that authors would write books that invited a leisurely, thorough reading.
If you like murder-mysteries, are not put off by a rather meandering pace, and -- in particular -- find novels written back in what many consider the "golden age" of mysteries and noir -- then this book might be for you.
June 19, 2020
The Horizontal Man by Helen Eustis won the Edgar Award for Best First Novel in 1947. It's a murder mystery set at an East Coast college. Handsome young English professor Kevin Boyle is murdered in his boarding-house room. Student Molly Morrison had a crush on him. She is so distraught over his death, she's sent to the infirmary and sedated.
Cub reporter Jack Donnelly chats up students at the local bar to learn Molly's name. He lies his way into the infirmary and interviews Molly for the town newspaper, which causes a firestorm of disapproval at the college. The bad publicity gets even worse when she confesses to police.
College president Bainbridge calls upon psychiatrist Forstmann to determine Molly's mental state. Of course she didn't do it, she's just a basket-case of neuroses. Jack teams up with student Kate to find out "whodunit" (and fall in love). Professors Marks, Hungerford and Cramm were Boyle's friends, each is involved in the case. Marks is terribly insecure, Hungerford is being persecuted via messages in a journal, Cramm is oversexed and manipulative.
Cub reporter Jack Donnelly chats up students at the local bar to learn Molly's name. He lies his way into the infirmary and interviews Molly for the town newspaper, which causes a firestorm of disapproval at the college. The bad publicity gets even worse when she confesses to police.
College president Bainbridge calls upon psychiatrist Forstmann to determine Molly's mental state. Of course she didn't do it, she's just a basket-case of neuroses. Jack teams up with student Kate to find out "whodunit" (and fall in love). Professors Marks, Hungerford and Cramm were Boyle's friends, each is involved in the case. Marks is terribly insecure, Hungerford is being persecuted via messages in a journal, Cramm is oversexed and manipulative.
November 9, 2023
After I read In a Lonely Place by Dorothy B. Hughes, I landed on some search pages like “The best women crime writers of the golden era.” I picked one or two for my reading list, and when this one arrived from Secondsale. com, I cracked it right away. Helen Eustis won the Edgar Award for this first novel.
It’s a mix of things—a murder on the second page and untrained people trying to solve it, plus some social satire, psychological premises, and a bit of comedy—set in a New England women’s college (the author went to Smith) in 1946 when there was a 10:15 curfew in the dorms. There’s a good bit of psychology in it; the narrative is more teasing apart who people really are than the classic closing in on an increasingly dangerous perpetrator.
This is an unusual murder mystery, even slightly weird in how much analysis of the psyche is presented. I thought I had figured it out, but I was wrong, so good on Helen Eustis.
The title comes from a W.H. Auden quatrain:
Let us honor if we can
The vertical man
Though we value none
But the horizontal one.
3.5 stars, rounded down
It’s a mix of things—a murder on the second page and untrained people trying to solve it, plus some social satire, psychological premises, and a bit of comedy—set in a New England women’s college (the author went to Smith) in 1946 when there was a 10:15 curfew in the dorms. There’s a good bit of psychology in it; the narrative is more teasing apart who people really are than the classic closing in on an increasingly dangerous perpetrator.
This is an unusual murder mystery, even slightly weird in how much analysis of the psyche is presented. I thought I had figured it out, but I was wrong, so good on Helen Eustis.
The title comes from a W.H. Auden quatrain:
Let us honor if we can
The vertical man
Though we value none
But the horizontal one.
3.5 stars, rounded down
Displaying 1 - 30 of 98 reviews