“The first duty of the novelist is to entertain. It is a moral duty. People who read your books are sick, sad, travelling, in the hospital waiting room while someone is dying. Books are written by the alone for the alone.”
- Donna Tartt, author of The Secret History
To say my family has been having a tough time this month would be an understatement. At one point there were three members of my clan in three different hospitals across England. So, I packed up my little teal-coloured wheelie case and booked it across Europe to get home. All in all, I took two trams, two trains, a flight, a coach, and a series of tubes to wind up at my mother’s flat in South East London. And you bet your bookish butt that I was listening to podcasts all the way there. There was no way on Earth I was going to be left alone with my thoughts.
So, what did I reach for? A comedy chat show? A lightweight love story? Nope. I needed comfort. I needed distraction. I needed Death Island, My Favorite Murder, Sounds Like a Cult.
With the help of my trusty true crime podcasts, I got back to my mum. And we buckled up for what we knew would be a truly crap few weeks.
Now, I have a tendency to stockpile fiction when I’m stressed or sad. Bookshops are quiet and soothing. I have the added excuse that, since I don’t live in the U.K., I am allowed to “treat” myself to book-buying when I’m in London. So, a few days into what turned out to be an utterly brutal week, I went in search of novel comforts. And again I found myself reaching for crime stories. This time it was Elly Griffith’s murder mystery, The Crossing Places.
I gobbled up Griffith’s windswept saltmarsh and her tale of Dr Galloway while en route to care homes, in hospital waiting areas and in hot baths while trying to ease the tension in my rock-like shoulders. Meanwhile, my mum got through each day accompanied by episodes of Inspector George Gently - a crime drama set in the 1960s. In the evenings, after debriefing each difficult day, we settled in to watch Criminal Minds with David Suchet’s Poirot as a trusty backup.
So what was it that we found so comforting about crime stories? While chatting over pub food, my mum made the point that detective figures often come with an air of calm authority. And she’s right. They are in charge. They have a plan. They are the experts and they are going to guide us, the reader or viewer, to the end of the story with a steady hand. They represent a degree of order in chaos.
I also believe that there is something relieving about having the scary underbelly of life acknowledged. Reading about healthy, happy characters doing healthy, happy things like falling in love or having dinner with a Still-Perfectly-Married-and-Alive mum and dad can feel like salt in the wound when all is not right in your world.
Instead, the crime genre allows us to say yes, sometimes horrible things happen for no good reason at all. But, paradoxically, it also offers a little room for optimism. Not the blinding, painful optimism of a Christmas story or a romance novel but a sliver of light in a dark sky. Crime stories acknowledge that we are all flawed, that life is not always easy and that some people do unspeakable things to others. However, the genre also tells us there are good people who will always try to make things right, and who will show up when you’re sunk low.
In real life, these people aren’t always cops or doctors or investigative journalists. They are the friends that don’t just send condolences but check in every day for months after a loss. Friends that petsit or babysit or clean your flat when you just can’t. The people that make the call to the clinic or the pharmacy or the tax office for you. The people in your life that will listen when you need to rant about how awful your week has been or sit quietly on the sofa and watch TV with you.
I think I’m drawn to crime stories for comfort not because I want to imagine a lot of horror or suffering but because I want to spend time with these people. When it feels like chaos and tragedy are winning I want to be reassured of the existence of The Good Guys.
Creative Writing Exercise
“Yes, it was dangerous, but we are not put into this world, Mr. Burton, to avoid danger when an important fellow creature's life is at stake. You understand me?”
― Miss Marple in The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie
“The thought of good people suffering drives me, for better or worse, to the point of obsession.”
— Paul Holes, the detective that caught the Golden State Killer, Unmasked
The Mentor is one archetypal character that often shows up as the detective or amateur sleuth or Good Guy in fiction across all genres. Christopher Vogler summarises the Mentor as having many of the traits of a Hero (i.e. being willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of others) but usually appears as someone who aids or trains the protagonist. They can often stand for the protagonist's (or the readers) higher aspirations for themselves. Examples from crime fiction are genius detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot who are not just clever but vessels for justice. In film and TV, characters like Obi-Wan (Star Wars), Grandmother Willow (Pocahontas) or Doctor Bailey (Grey’s Anatomy) are all good examples of wise, mentor-like figures.
Your task today is to identify a Mentor figure in your story. Remember, characters can wear different hats at different times. It might be that a character only acts as a mentor figure in a particular scene. Sam Gamgee, for example, acts as the side-kick for much of Lord of the Rings but takes on the Hero role toward the end of the adventure.
Identify the ways in which they demonstrate mentor-like characteristics: generally speaking this will be through the act of teaching or providing useful gifts to others.
Write a scene in which your mentor figure successfully passes on a particular gift or piece of wisdom to another.
P.S. I did eventually make it back to my flat and my cats but not before my train carriage filled with smoke because the breaks were on fire. There’s truly something to be said for being prepared for the worst!
Great article - thank you for unravelling my obsession with crime stories. I also think I enjoyed the brutal social setting of the the 1960s in George Gently - familiar to my childhood - there was something re assuring about enjoying some progress evident in our present society.
Sorry to hear things have been tough for you and your family. I hope things improve soon. I did enjoy reading your post and have to give another thumbs up to the Elly Griffiths Ruth Galloway books. I have read about seven of the fifteen but can’t bring myself to race through them. Instead I save them for occasions when life feels a bit harder. Although they are crime novels, I find reading about Ruth and Nelson immensely reassuring and comforting. And now I’m a few books in I love the community of the other characters. I feel in safe hands. There may be danger and peril yet I know it’s all likely to be ok by the end. This is why I turn to that particular series. I’m a big crime reader generally. I think like Tartt states we come to be entertained. There is something satisfying about the thrill and pace of crime novels and also with the expectation that the mystery will be solved and justice prevail.
The mentor archetype is an interesting one and like one of the other commenters mentioned, someone we can all learn from. I’m trying to write this character in my current WIP. I’ll check out some of the references you mention. Take care.