Dorothy Sayers’ Have His Carcase is part of a collection of books that I informally call “books that were inexplicably never booklogged.” I re-read it quite a while ago and somehow, it never appeared here. I’m logging it now because I was sadly disappointed by the radio adaptation of Strong Poison—Ian Carmichael is a great Wimsey, but Ann Bell is not even a passable Harriet Vane. [*] So I gave the text of Strong Poison a quick glance, and since Have His Carcase is the next book to feature Harriet, it naturally came to mind.
[*] However, this fan page tells me that two other actresses were cast as Harriet Vane in Have His Carcase and Busman’s Honeymoon (Gaudy Night not being adapted, the only one of the novels, which is a pity), so I will probably give those a try eventually.
I found Have His Carcase very tedious the first time I read it, but I liked it much better this time around, which is solely attributable to Sarah Monette: in a series of LiveJournal posts (warning: book-destroying spoilers), she points out that Have His Carcase is a mystery novel about mystery novels, a meta-commentary on the way that detective stories are constructed. (Note the last two chapter titles: “Evidence of What Should Have Happened” and “Evidence of What Did Happen.”) With that, all the long attempts to figure out what happen turned from tedious and futile to thematically interesting; and the puzzling facts, and the way they are put together into stories, take on extra resonance. I admit, though, that I still skipped the code-breaking section.
The first time I read it, I also was frustrated at the lack of progress in Peter and Harriet’s relationship. This time, again guided by Sarah Monette’s commentary, I realized why there’s so little progress: Have His Carcase is deliberately tossing up examples of ways in which men and women fail to relate, are prevented from meeting each other as equals, all the generalized things that keep Peter and Harriet apart. It’s for Gaudy Night, I think, to deal with the specific, personal things—but they have to overcome both sets of obstacles before they can get anywhere.
Have His Carcase will never be my favorite Sayers novel, but I admire its craft and I’m glad to have discovered its virtues.
Very interesting observations, Kate — thanks.
I’ve always liked Carcase a lot, but it’s hard to say exactly why. It was the first book with Harriet as viewpoint character, so it was nice to get her take on things (and to discover that she was worthy of Peter’s infatuation). It let me feel smugly superior, since I guessed the key medical fact about halfway through. The interactions among the characters seemed very real — or, rather, realistic without unpleasant grittiness, if that makes any sense.
In a perverse way, I got a lot of pleasure out of the two leads working together, and clearly caring for each other, without ending up together. I think saving that step for Gaudy Night was very wise, and I like the observation you cite above about having to dispense with the general obstacles before dealing with the specific ones.
And, it was the first detective novel I can remember where [admin note: I’ve ROT-13’ed the following double-bracketed text to avoid spoiling those who haven’t read the book.] [[ gur raqvat vf nzovthbhf nobhg jurgure be abg gur zheqreref trg njnl jvgu vg. Gurl xabj jubqhavg, ohg znl abg or noyr gb cebir vg, naq znl abg or noyr gb cerirag gur boivbhf sbyybj-ba pevzrf. ]] Heady stuff, and totally unexpected (by me, at least) back when I first read it.
I’ll note in passing that the audiobook version, read by Ian Carmichael, is quite good. I don’t know why they chose a man — even a man famous for playing Wimsey — as the reader, but it seemed to work for me. Then again, the voice in my head is male, so I’m surely biased.
(They handled the codebreaking scene by talking through the very beginning, inserting an editorial note to the effect that “this scene cannot be done satisfactorily in an audiobook”, summarizing, and then picking up the action at the end of the scene.)
David: first, just to be super-cautious, I’ve edited your comment to avoid spoilers.
Any observations you found interesting here were borrowed from Sarah Monette’s posts–I think they’d be worth your time to look at.
Carmichael is a damn good Wimsey out loud (he doesn’t *look* much like Wimsey to me), and it’s been really nice to re-read the books with his voice in my head. It’s partly why I was so disappointed with the voice given to Harriet Vane in the dramatization of _Strong Poison_. That’s a good way to handle the code-breaking scene, I like that.
And yes, partnership relationships are a favorite of mine, and I like seeing them work together (that beach scene!); and when they edge toward romance, the complications make emotional sense to me.
Kate: Argh. Sorry — I so carefully avoided spoilers in the first paragraph, and never stopped to think that the commentary at the end was just as spoilerish in its own way. Thanks for editing it.
I agree about Carmichael. I was always both amused and annoyed that, of the two BBC Wimseys I know, Edward Petherbridge looked exactly right (i.e. very pale blond hair, thin pointy face), but Ian Carmichael acted and sounded exactly right.
David: don’t worry about it, it’s quite understandable. I just try to be very cautious about stuff like that.
Right, so I’ll avoid the BBC TV productions, then–not that I was particularly tempted. Radio drama still gives you a lot of room for your own imagination, after all.