Why Do You Like Books Where People Die?

Jaclyn

May 31

The other day, Nugget and I were headed out the door to meet up with one of his buddies for a play date. As I always do, I threw together a bag with snacks and two full water bottles (because, to quote toddler Nugget, "it'th important to thtay hydwated."). To carry it all, I reached for one of my favorite tote bags - a canvas bag with rainbow-striped woven straps, which I bought from the Shedunnit show with a selection of used Ngaio Marsh novels. I love this bag. It's the perfect size to carry those playdate essentials. And, to be honest, murder mysteries are my bag.

As we walked to the car, Nugget asked me what my bag said. I told him. He thought for a minute, then asked, "Why do you like books where people die?"

A valid question. I'm known for having the reading tastes of your granny (my co-workers like to poke gentle fun at me for it!) - no swears, please, and also no steamy scenes or gratuitous violence, thanks. As he buckled his seat belt, I explained that I like figuring out the clues and that mystery novels have a tidy resolution where everything is wrapped up in the end, and I started to elaborate on convalescent literature before I realized that my audience was now staring out the car window, not listening to me. But it got me thinking about the reasons why I really do like golden age (and modern cozy) mystery novels.

I like a good puzzle. I enjoy piecing together clues, forming a theory, and seeing if I'm right. The intellectual exercise of it is fun for me. (And often I do correctly figure out "whodunit" but I don't pick up on all of the clues pointing me to the culprit - it's a sense of "I don't trust X" or "Why are we so sure that Y is telling the truth?" more than "Aha, the precise time of day that the candlestick went missing means that it must be Mrs. Peacock.") Figuring out the answer to the puzzle is often the easy part, and it's fitting all the clues into place that holds the surprises. This fascinates me.
Everything works out in the end. The old convalescent literature thing. When times are tough, it's comforting to read a book where - no matter the terrible things that happen earlier in the narrative - you can be totally sure that in the end, it will all make sense. The puzzle pieces will fit together. No loose ends. Justice will be served. In real life, mysteries go unsolved all the time and justice is not always served. Things are unfair, people do unaccountable things, and it doesn't always make sense. To pick up a book where you are guaranteed a tidy resolution is profound self-comfort - I'd argue it can even be self-care - especially in our current tumultuous and uncertain times.
The scary stuff happens off the page. I don't read modern thrillers and there's a reason - I really don't like to read about violence. (See above: there's plenty of that on the news.) That's why I stick to golden age and vintage detective stories and cozy mysteries - usually novels and series set in past time periods, to take modern forensic investigation methods out of the detective's toolbox and cell phones out of the hands of, well, everyone - yes, someone generally dies (it's a murder mystery) but the real violence happens off page. And usually not to a character that the reader cares about - it'll either be someone insufferable (not that even an insufferable person deserves to die, of course, but we're talking about 1930s novels here) or a stranger. Not a character that I've grown to love. Dorothy L. Sayers isn't going to have Lord Peter investigating Harriet's death, or Bunter's. Agatha Christie won't kill off Ariadne Oliver. So the reader can focus on the puzzle and not have to worry about getting upset at the death of a beloved fictional friend.
They're atmospheric. I'm living a prosaic suburban lawyer mom life in 2023. Books are the only way I'm going to get to enjoy a visit to an English country manor between the wars, or the Orient Express in the golden age of train travel, or a medieval Welsh monastery, or a glitzy nightclub in 1930s London. I'm in it for the settings, the descriptions of long-gone food and fashion trends, and the immersion into a bygone world just as much as I am for the puzzle or the red herrings or the denouement.

At the end of the day, too, you need some stakes or you won't be able to keep a narrative going for long. Nugget, bless his little readerly heart, is just learning that. (We do have Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on his bedside table, so if he doesn't know what literary stakes are yet, he's about to find out.)

Are you a mystery reader? Why do you like whodunits?

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