If you're looking for something unusual in your Golden Age mysteries, let me recommend the works of E. R. Punshon to you. So far, I've read and reviewed ten of Punshon's books, all featuring Detective Bobby Owen, and I've thoroughly enjoyed them all. So for this week's featured review from the Classic Mysteries vault, I'm offering a transcript of my audio review of Punshon's 1942 novel Diabolic Candelabra, and if you think that a diabolic candelabra sounds a bit strange - well, yes. As you'll see. Anyway, here's the transcript, slightly edited as usual:
- 0 -
Let’s talk about the odds and ends of a mystery – mostly the odds, really. The most police inspector Bobby Owen could say about the odd events going on in and around the English village of Barsley Forest was just that – they were odd events. There was the search for a unique and quite popular secret recipe for chocolate candies. There was the disappearance of an elusive hermit who lived somewhere in the forest. There was the equally mysterious – and troubling – disappearance of the hermit’s axe. There was the matter of the young woman who locked her abusive stepfather in the cellar with nothing but bread and water. And the young child who thought nothing of spending days and nights out in the forest with a wild squirrel as her only companion, rarely returning to her home. Then there was another disappearance. And somehow all of these things might…or might not…have anything to do with rumors about a couple of missing paintings by El Greco – paintings that could be worth a great deal of money to somebody. Oh, and then there was another rumor about missing art work – a candelabra made of purest silver by the great Italian master, Benvenuto Cellini, a candelabra designed with the hideous faces of demons from hell – in fact, you might call it, a Diabolic Candelabra…which is the name of the book we’ll be discussing today.
E.R. Punshon’s book, Diabolic Candelabra, was first published in 1942, with World War II under way, when England was undergoing regular bombardment by German planes. The hardships of that war, and the blackouts made necessary by the air raids, form a background for Punshon’s book, although they do not really play a major part in the story.
Diabolic Candelabra begins with a search for a new recipe for making chocolate candies. Inspector Bobby Owen’s wife, Olive, has been asked by a friend to try to find the person who makes these unusual chocolates, a young woman who lives in a house in the nearby forest, to see if she would be willing to make a great many more of those candies for sale at the local church bazaar.
So Olive and her husband set out for the forest – rather like Hansel and Gretel, I suppose. And what they encounter could come right out of one of the more unpleasant fairy tales: a whole collection of singular events, including the disappearance of that very reclusive hermit and his axe. Then, there’s another disappearance, this time the case of a local businessman who is also involved in the sale of those chocolates – although there’s no real indication that that recipe has anything to do with the case.
And there are more odd turns: the bloodstain on the floor of the hermit’s shack; the strange little girl, named Loo, the younger sister of the woman who makes the candies, a child far more at home in the forest, talking to the animals, than she is in her home with her mother and sister. Oh, and of course her evil stepfather, who is, however, terrified that his older stepdaughter will – again – lock him in the cellar and refuse to let him out. And don’t forget the local squire and his family – on the verge of rather genteel poverty they may be looking for what may have been family heirlooms: some paintings by the great El Greco and that very peculiar and rather horrifying candelabra said to have been made by Cellini.
Getting confused? Then be reassured: Punshon manages to juggle several different and apparently unrelated story lines here and build them into a complex but entirely coherent whole. The reader is given a number of clues – though their significance may not be immediately apparent. The characters are quite memorable – I am particularly fond of Loo, the little girl who seems to be able to talk to animals. There are also some fine thriller elements, including a climactic struggle in a mysterious cave. The writing is tight and witty. Let me give you an example of what I mean: Bobby Owen is interviewing a traveling salesman named Weston – who deals in ladies’ corsets, which, he says, is a dying trade. Mr. Weston speaks first:
“If things go on the way they are, in fifty years women will be wearing nothing at all.”
“Too bad,” said Bobby.
“Except,” conceded Mr. Weston, “slacks and a permanent wave.”
“Oh well,” said Bobby a trifle shaken by such a prospect.
“You can’t trust women,” pronounced Mr. Weston as one who knew. “I had a pal whose family did well once on hatpins. Where are they now?”
Bobby wasn’t sure whether this referred to the pal’s family or the hatpins. As in neither case did he know the answer, he said nothing.”
I think that gives you a little of the flavor of the dialogue and the characters in E. R. Punshon’s Diabolic Candelabra. Punshon was quite prolific, writing nearly three dozen books about Inspector Bobby Owen, but his work remains virtually unknown in the United States. I think you’d enjoy meeting Bobby Owen and his creator, E. R. Punshon – and this is a fine place to start.
- 0 -
You can listen to the original audio version of this review by clicking here.
Next: Gambit, by Rex Stout.
Comments