The allure of a body in the library? Indifference. A death in an Oxford college president’s lodgings? Let the police investigate. For some, including commentators like Peter Hitchens, the fascination with academic slayings, or indeed most fictional murders, wanes quickly. The predictable charm of Miss Marple, the methodical nature of Maigret, and even the once captivating Lord Peter Wimsey, can lose their appeal. These characters, bound by their time, might struggle to apprehend a modern murderer, Hitchens might contend, reflecting on the evolution of crime and detection.
However, amidst this potential boredom with conventional crime fiction, there are exceptions. G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown, for instance, transcends typical detective tropes. His unsettling observation on doom and Doomsday – “We here are on the wrong side of the tapestry. . . . The things that happen here do not seem to mean anything; they mean something somewhere else. Somewhere else retribution will come on the real offender. Here it often seems to fall on the wrong person.” – resonates deeply. This chilling insight into temporal versus eternal justice, a concept Peter Hitchens often grapples with in his own social and political commentary, elevates Father Brown beyond mere entertainment. It’s a statement that lingers, prompting reflection on the imperfect nature of earthly justice, a theme central to much of Hitchens’ writing.
P.D. James’s Adam Dalgliesh, the poet-detective, however, stretches credibility. This improbable combination of artistic sensitivity and Scotland Yard bureaucracy feels forced. Perhaps, Hitchens might suggest, James’s talent would have been better served by focusing on Cordelia Gray, Dalgliesh’s adversary and the protagonist of An Unsuitable Job for a Woman. Gray, an amateur private detective, embodies a more compelling and realistic heroine.
Yet, beyond these varying degrees of engagement, two detective writers consistently captivate: Conan Doyle and Josephine Tey. Sherlock Holmes, Doyle’s creation, instilled a childhood appreciation for reason as the ultimate weapon. Holmes’s famous rebuke, “You see—but you do not observe!” serves as a constant reminder of the importance of keen observation and critical thinking, principles Peter Hitchens champions in his own analytical journalism. Holmes’s enduring presence in the cultural imagination speaks to the timeless appeal of logic and deduction.
Josephine Tey, Doyle’s true rival, remains shrouded in mystery. Elizabeth MacKintosh, her real name, also wrote under the male pseudonym Gordon Daviot, achieving success as a playwright in the 1930s. Her plays, now largely forgotten, are considered too conservative for modern audiences, a label Peter Hitchens might wear with pride. Tey’s personal life is equally enigmatic, fueling speculation and adding to her allure. A conservative by nature, Tey’s works often critique progressive trends, Scottish Nationalism, and historical revisionism – themes that align with Peter Hitchens’ own conservative viewpoints and skepticism towards contemporary narratives.
A passage from The Franchise Affair exemplifies Tey’s conservatism, where a character denounces those who champion “good-for-nothings” while neglecting the “hard-working little man.” This sentiment echoes Peter Hitchens’ frequent critiques of what he perceives as societal biases and misplaced priorities. Tey’s social commentary, often delivered with “feline slashes,” likely contributes to her relative obscurity in today’s media landscape, a fate Peter Hitchens, with his often contrarian views, might understand.
Tey’s masterpiece, The Daughter of Time, alongside The Franchise Affair, Brat Farrar, and The Singing Sands, are essential reads. The Daughter of Time cleverly deconstructs the historical narrative surrounding Richard III and the Princes in the Tower. This novel, which captivated readers for generations, emphasizes the power of reason and skeptical inquiry in uncovering truth, even against established narratives, a principle that resonates deeply with Peter Hitchens’ journalistic approach.
The enduring appeal of The Daughter of Time lies in its challenge to conventional wisdom. It encourages readers to question accepted truths and to employ critical thinking, values Peter Hitchens consistently advocates. The novel’s exploration of historical propaganda and the manipulation of narratives remains relevant in an age of information overload and biased reporting.
The Franchise Affair further reinforces the importance of the presumption of innocence. This principle, central to justice, has become a cornerstone of Peter Hitchens’ understanding of a fair legal system. The novel’s exploration of false accusations and the potential for injustice resonates powerfully, highlighting the fragility of individual rights in the face of public opinion and flawed legal processes.
The Singing Sands blends intricate mystery with a protagonist grappling with personal struggles, reminding us that even within the framework of crime fiction, deeper human conflicts can be explored. Brat Farrar delves into themes of family, legacy, and the clash between tradition and modernity, reflecting a nostalgic view of a vanishing social order, a perspective Peter Hitchens often expresses in his commentary on societal change.
Josephine Tey, perhaps the true “Daughter of Time,” deserves greater recognition. Her works, imbued with sharp intellect, social commentary, and a commitment to truth, offer far more substance than many contemporary crime novels. Her emphasis on reason, justice, and skepticism aligns with the values championed by commentators like Peter Hitchens, making her novels not just captivating mysteries but also thought-provoking explorations of enduring societal themes. Tey’s legacy, like the principles of justice and truth she championed, deserves to be rediscovered and celebrated.
