It comes as a shock to many people (it did to me) that AA Milne wrote a murder mystery. Just the one, published in 1922, but it was enough to earn him admission to the inner sanctum of crime writers.
Is “The Red House Mystery” a good book? I’d say it’s fair enough, and very much in the style of its time, which is fine if you appreciate the Golden Age of crime. It certainly has many of the classic elements – the country house, the house party, the locked room, the wastrel brother who reappears from abroad and, of course, the amateur sleuth, with his slightly dim sidekick. If the denouement draws on a plot line which is peppered throughout those Golden Age mysteries, it’s none the worse for that.
Of course, it’s a whole other discussion about whether the detective’s sidekick only really exists to fulfil the main purpose of allowing the sleuth to show off his or her genius and give fulsome explanations regarding his or her thought processes. In the case of Red House’s Bill, he appears to be at the dimmer end of the bell curve of intelligence and certainly hero worships his friend Tony, the man who solves the case.
Tony’s a really interesting character, a man of independent means, who takes on various jobs just for fun. He’d have been well served by further crimes to solve with his sidekick. I could envisage a whole series of cases in which our two heroes pop up at house parties and the like, solving crimes, causing chaos and generally having a whale of a time. Alas, those books were never written.
Somebody even suggested that Bill reminded him of Piglet, but Tony and Bill makes me think of Raffles and Bunny, not least because of the “slash”. I usually say if you’re not sure what slash is, get your mother to explain when you get home. This time I’ll give a definition, straight from Wikipedia. “Slash fiction is a genre of fan fiction that focuses on interpersonal attraction and sexual relationships between fictional characters of the same sex.”
Milne himself objected to love stories getting in the way of the detection, so he takes Bill’s love interest “offscreen” pretty rapidly, then – ironically – proceeds to give us an almost love story between his two leading men. If you picked up this book without knowing the author or context, you might think you were reading a romantic mystery, with a gay bloke (Tony) who pursues, and then is all over, another man.
From the moment Tony serves Bill, first in a shop and then in a restaurant, “Something about [him], his youth and freshness, perhaps, attracted Tony”. He arranges a proper introduction to Bill and they quickly become “intimate”. Yes, that word clearly didn’t mean quite the same in 1922! As the story proper gets going, Bill is flattered, delighted and proud to be liked (and needed in the cause of investigation) by Tony, who soon after tells Bill he’s wonderful for describing someone so well, at which Bill is happily embarrassed.
Should I mention how often Anthony takes Bill’s arm when they’re walking? I know that this practice was not uncommon between men in the early twentieth century, and nobody batted an eyelid, but they seem to be at it all the time. Then there’s the hand holding; Tony tells Bill he’s the most perfect “Watson” before taking Bill’s hand in both of his to say, “There is nothing that you and I could not accomplish together…” (That’s the sort of thing he says a lot.) Bill responds by calling him a silly old ass, and Anthony replies with “That’s what you always say when I’m being serious” which is very similar to a tense, flirtatious interchange between Laurie and Andrew in Mary Renault’s “The Charioteer”.
They even end up sharing a bed, although strictly in the way the characters share a bed in “Three Men in a Boat”. That’s another element which is hard to interpret innocently with modern eyes, although those of us who were brought up on “Morecambe and Wise” know that Eric and Ernie weren’t “at it” when the lights went off.
So what the heck was going on in “The Red House Mystery”? It’s terribly easy for us to look back at books written so long ago with our “slash goggles” firmly in place and see things which the author didn’t intend. Perhaps we see things which aren’t there at all. You only have to look at the volume of Holmes and Watson romances that have sprung up to find people interpreting old stories in a very present-day fashion. But gay men did exist in the 1920s (or at any point in history) and gay or lesbian characters can be found, thinly veiled, in classic books such as “A Murder is Announced”.
Maybe Milne was just being observational in his writing, basing Tony on somebody he had known, weaving in elements of conversations he had heard, as so many of us do. I have little doubt that he had no intention of giving us that romantic storyline, but he did so, nonetheless.
April 9, 2016
Slash in the Golden Age
Posted by charliecochrane under Charlie Cochrane, history, writing[11] Comments
April 9, 2016 at 7:38 pm
[…] making a start at reviving the Macaronis while I’m at […]
April 9, 2016 at 7:38 pm
[…] making a start at reviving the Macaronis while I’m at […]
April 9, 2016 at 8:32 pm
I do like those boys.
April 10, 2016 at 1:46 pm
I wish there had been more stories about them.
April 9, 2016 at 10:31 pm
That reminds me, I need to get to my next volume of Raffles. It’s fun top read stuff with the slash goggles on. But if we take them off and assume the writer wasn’t insinuating a sexual relationship, then it’s showing us how differently male friends interacted compared to now. Much more physical contact and expressing feelings. It’s a shame we’ve lost all that.
April 10, 2016 at 1:48 pm
*nods* You still see it a bit with sportsmen, but not so much generally.
Thinking of Raffles, was he not based on somebody who was gay? so even if the author intend the slash, maybe it was there from observational writing? If that makes any sense?
April 10, 2016 at 1:56 pm
I’m not sure if he’s based one someone real. I know he was written to be the antithesis of Sherlock Holmes – who is of course the sould respectability. So maybe giving some hints that AJ’s non-respectable activities went beyond burglary was deliberate. 😀
April 10, 2016 at 1:57 pm
“soul of” for goodness sake!
April 10, 2016 at 2:03 pm
According to “Peter Pan’s First XI”, which quotes Andrew Lycett (Doyle’s biographer) Hornung based Raffles on George Ives, who had an affair with Bosie.
April 10, 2016 at 2:07 pm
Cool. 😀 I know if you do a Google seach for Raffles and Bunny, one of the first things the autocomplete suggests is “gay”. 😀
April 29, 2016 at 7:24 pm
[…] Have you come across The Macaronis blog? It’s a cracking resource about matters gay, romantic and historical and is being relaunched in May, including a week of posts linked to the (blog) hop for Visibility, Awareness and Equality. I’ve made a start by reposting my Mystery People e-zine article about slashy references in golden age mysteries. […]