REVIEWED BY TINA KARELSON:         


NICHOLAS BLAKE There's Trouble Brewing

NICHOLAS BLAKE – There’s Trouble Brewing. Collins Crime Club, UK, hardcover, 1937. Harper & Brothers, US, hc, 1937. Paperback reprints include: Popular Library #30, 1944; Perennial, 1982.

   This is the third of the 16 Nigel Strangeways mysteries and earliest of the four that have lurked unread upon my shelves for the last 20 years or more.

   Blake, of course, is a pseudonym for the poet Cecil Day Lewis. And the Strangeways novels are the product of a poet and scholar whose purpose in writing mysteries was to make some extra money to support his growing family. While he’s giving a bit of a tweak to the genre as it existed in Britain at the time, he stays within its boundaries.

NICHOLAS BLAKE There's Trouble Brewing

   In fact, the traditional elements are quite rigid. The story unfolds chronologically, each chapter designated with a number, date and time. For example, the eighth chapter is “VIII. July 19, 8.20–11.30 A.M.” Each chapter has an epigraph; these are drawn from a variety of sources, from Shakespeare to a 19th century temperance ballad.

   The sleuth, Nigel Strangeways, is a classic upper-class amateur. In this case, he is summoned to the village of Maiden Astbury by an Oxford classmate’s wife, ostensibly to address the local literary society on the topic of his “delightful little book on the Caroline poets.” He ends up investigating a gruesome murder in a brewery, foreshadowed by the similar disposal of the brewery owner’s dog, subject of the book’s opening:

NICHOLAS BLAKE There's Trouble Brewing

   Every dog, they say, has its day. Whether Truffles would have assented to this proposition during his lifetime is highly doubtful. Not for him the elusive rabbit, the ineffable dungheap, the hob-nobbing with loose companions at street corners that for upper-class dogs represent the illicit high-spots of cloistered lives. Truffles, like everything else that Eustace Bunnett had to do with, was kept very much at heel.

   The educated, slightly tongue-in-cheek tone is maintained throughout. While gently amusing, it distances the reader from the story and characters.

   Plot and structure are similarly flawed; more than one significant character is offstage for all or most of the book, existing only through other characters’ eyes and according to the physical traces left behind. The total effect is of a puzzle with missing pieces, viewed from afar.

      Previously reviewed on this blog:

Murder with Malice   [by Marv Lachman]
Thou Shell of Death   [by Steve Lewis]
The Private Wound   [by Steve Lewis]