The Fog of My Stupor

For the literary detective, the most complex problem is what to do in those long hours and days between cases.

Holmes, that supposedly great thinker, turns to the needle and the bow. In so doing he transforms himself from a man of decisive action into a man of utter inaction. He is to be seen slumped on the sofa, unconscious to the world or, alternatively, to be heard sawing away on his violin.

When that Herculean detective, M. Hercule Poirot, retires he moves to a small house in King’s Abbot, complete with its flower beds and vegetable plot. The marrows, we know, cause him such distress that they are sent over the fence into the garden of that most dangerous of neighbours, Dr Sheppard.

As for myself, the literary critical detective, I have spent my time between cases looking back at myself, reflecting on my own life and ambitions. I have reconsidered the thought processes in which I once set so much store. In so doing I have never been too far away from the literary. I have, on certain evenings, played the role of my own chronicler. I have become my own Hastings, my own Watson, and have sought to turn my own life into a fiction. Pen and paper in hand, I have scribbled myself into a different existence, a dreamy half-life of words and memories. These short exercises in distraction have, to my great delight, found favour amongst my associates. Both Thistleton and Bowler have been kind enough to say a few words of encouragement.

But now my mental energies are returning once again. The fog of my stupor is lifting. There is a new case, one that requires me to be at my sharpest. It is also one for which my literary-autobiographical efforts will have been a kind of apprenticeship. For if I am now to discover the solution to the mystery, or at least a solution to the mystery, I will have to turn to fiction. I will have to adopt a new form of discourse, one that is at once critical and poetic.

And so I shall draw the curtains, light the candles on my desk and shut the door. I shall sharpen my pencil, pick up my notebook and turn to the first blank page. And I shall begin the work.

The world’s first and only consulting literary critical detective

My meeting with that great philosopher and theologian Mr Benjamin Thistleton has forced me to re-evaluate my entire project. I have explained the reasons behind this in my account of our developing friendship and  association: ‘The Literary Critical Detective Meets an Associate’. I would direct you to that text for a full explanation.

However, allow me to publicly announce my important decision here. I am, as you will know, the first literary critical detective. I would now like to declare myself the world’s first and only consulting literary critical detective. I am now taking on cases brought to me by others.

So, if you know of a particular classic literary detective case that you would like me to examine then please contact me. I will start a discussion thread on the Facebook group page ‘The Literary Critical Detective’. Please leave your requests there. Alternatively, post a comment on this journal or write to me at my postal address: theliterarydetective@hotmail.co.uk.

I cannot promise to take on your case. As Holmes disregarded seemingly important cases for those that merely interested him, so too I will only re-investigate and criticise those literary cases that I think might produce imaginative results. I cannot prescribe my approach or my findings; nor can I make any grand claims that I will ‘solve’ anything. I will certainly not set out to answer any specific questions. Whilst my readings will certainly be wrong-headed they will also be inspired. If I do take on your case you can trust to the fact that I will commit all my energies to it; I will not rest until it is done. You can also rely upon my depth of reading. Should I need any help my growing network of associates will be able to supply me with texts and knowledge.

Some important points to bear in mind. I will only take on ‘classic’ literary detective cases. This means Doyle, Christie, Marsh and, at a stretch, Chandler, but nothing past this. If you have any questions, please contact me through the usual channels. Also, the findings of my research, my written accounts and all related original documentation will remain my property.

If you decide to visit me in person with your case, please inform Françoise of the reason for your visit and hand her your card. Should I be playing the piano when you call I will not admit you.

Until then I remain

Your loyal author,

Dr James Holden

(Consulting Literary Critical Detective)