The Twenty-Third Man by Gladys Mitchell
published 1957
Recently the blog and
its readers have been agog for discussion of compass directions – see these two
posts:
Compass
directions, a children’s classic, and is North best?
No
Direction Home – which way is best?
… and this book contains an excellent quote which fits in
well. It’s from the daughter of a hotel-owner, about why it is a good idea to
stop travelling:
'That is the best thing. Nobody
was clever enough, intelligent enough, good enough, to leave it at that. Always
they wish to go west, further west, and more west — still. What is
this madness, Senora, that makes for the west, for the sunset, for
disillusion — for death?’
Our general conclusion in the earlier discussion was that the West had a good rep –
nice to see another pov, and ‘the west, sunset, disillusion and death’ would make a
great doom-y title for something.
Series sleuth Mrs Bradley is on her travels – she arrives
by boat in what is apparently one of the Canary Islands, but imaginary:
The island of Hombres Muertos was aptly named. They sat, these dead men, twenty-three of them, around a stone table in a cave on Monte Negro, the highest mountain on the island and so called because of the dark, sculptured waves of lava which had flowed from the crater and congealed above the cavern.
These are going to feature in the book a lot – obviously,
given the title.
So Mrs Bradley is staying in the main hotel, and meets the locals
and residents and visitors. They are introduced in quick succession, and there
are obviously troubles and arguments and feuds. Soon after, someone disappears.
There is a very funny young boy, Clement, and his difficult
parents. Mitchell worked in education and knew children well, but had none of
her own, and is prone to the childfree’s certainty that they would do a lot
better than actual parents – see discussions in Jane
Austen (yes really) and the Nannies in Dorothy
Dunnett’s Johnson book, Dolly and the Nanny Bird.
Clement is very badly-behaved because his parents have too many
theories, and apparently needs to go to an English boarding school (no-one
deserves that, and particularly not the school in Mitchell’s Tom
Brown’s Body).
He is the first to claim that there is an extra dead body
in the group. so then there has to be a lot of travelling up to the cave (by
mule) and counting and discussing and finding out who is missing.
There are also some rather splendid bandits, who capture
Clement – and I don’t think this is a spoiler – but eventually let him go. The
main two are called Tio Caballo and Jose el Lupe: Uncle Horse and Jose
the Wolf. Very fine naming.
Mrs B eventually goes back to the UK to do some more
checking up, but sends her assistant Laura (complete with a small baby) out to
do some checking. So most of the action is on the island and surroundings.
There is a young American girl, Miranda, who has this to
say:
‘Taken prisoner my foot! He
had a rendezvous with them. So Emden said, and I don’t see why it wouldn’t be
true. The bandits here are sheer Oklahoma. They couldn’t kidnap
a tortoise. No, I figure Emden was right, and Pop Peterhouse had a date
with them.’
[I think Oklahoma here is a reference to the stage musical]
She likes a lot of slangy talk, and Mrs B thinks she has a
winning riposte, and can catch her out, by saying ‘And don’t you come
from Boston?’, showing her own naivete in her belief that everyone in
Boston speaks in a high-toned way. She has plainly never been there, and feels
this is the equivalent of saying ‘but you live in Buckingham Palace.’
Mrs Bradley’s researches take her to a lodging house in
London where there are all kinds of mysterious goings-on, and it’s not clear
exactly who was there with whom.
I really enjoyed this one: it combined plenty of the usual mad Mitchell features, but also a
strong and reasonably comprehensible plot, a good story and some great
characters. The weird setting on the island added to the drama. The mummified
figures were very spooky, the conversations absorbing, the troglodytes an
exciting addition.
I had recently re-read Alexandre Dumas’s The Count of
Monte Cristo, and there were certain surprising similarities – wild
adventures, bandits, mysterious islands…
I am always anxious to recommend the wonderful Stone House website – first port of call for anyone interested in Gladys Mitchell.
The mummies picture (from
Flickr) shows In the Catacombs at Guanajuato. That’s in
Mexico in 1897, but they look good.
The second picture might be anywhere - no date or place given – but I liked it and it is from one of my favourite resources, The San Diego Air & Space Museum archives.
And I seize any excuse to use the wonderful Eric Ravilious picture of a
boarding house The
Boarding Hhouse - Eric Ravilious - WikiArt.org
(recently seen on the cover of Margery
Sharp’s Harlequin House from Dean St Press)



I recently read this and enjoyed it for all the reasons you give. And if I hadn't had rather a lot of distractions this month, would have commented more on the points of the compass blog. The west has often been associated with death in myth and legend because it is where the sun sets. 'To go west' was slang for dying in WWII. wasn't it? Similarly the east is associated with new life and rebirth.
ReplyDeleteThe poem "Sea to the West", partly quoted by Christine Harding in the comments to the 'No Direction Home' post, hints at the association of death with the West in its last stanza; I never got round to adding the quote attributed to the alchemist Henry Vaughan in Anthony Powell's "A Dance to the Music of Time": 'the liberated soul ascendes, looking at the sunset towards the west wind, and hearing secret harmonies'. But in both cases the association seems positive and benign - not quite what the hotel-owner's daughter has in mind.
DeleteSovay
I love that there is still so much to say about the compass points - and that they can provoke such different takes on them. Jonathan Raban (who ended up in Seattle, as did I) wrote in one of his books about the American pull to the west - it was fascinating and convincing, and I meant to quote from it but the post was getting too long! He did not think it was death and disillusion but did think it had a connection with the American character. Must re-read.
DeleteSovay, I would not have remembered that that's where 'hearing secret harmonies' comes from, thanks for that lovely quote.
Margaret Kennedy also took a book title from Henry Vaughan
This does sound like a good one, Moira, with a balance between Mitchell's characteristic weirdness and a solid plot with interesting characters. I'm intrigued by the setting, too; the place itself seems like an effective backdrop for the plot. Interesting family dynamics in there, too....
ReplyDeleteYes, you can see that random people collected at a holiday resort is an excellent setting for a crime novel!
DeleteI know reception of Angela Thirkell is mixed around here, but coincidentally I was browsing County Chronicle this evening, and look: "Mrs Morland asked Mrs Crawley if she could give her a few names for her library list. . . . Mrs Crawley said there was another Miss Silver one and another Mrs Bradley one and she couldn't remember the names but they would know at Gaiters'; and why didn't Mrs Morland make a list out of the newspapers. She herself, she said, always meant to every week, but somehow she didn't."
ReplyDeleteTo connect the book to the clothes theme, at least, this is the one in which both large blonde Emmy and dark dainty Clarissa need bridesmaids' dresses for Lucy Marling's wedding. "'They must be Ascot frocks,' said Agnes, speaking out of a kind of Pythoness's trance. 'I don't think anything else would suit them both. Only summer Ascot of course,' upon which Madame Sartoria called on her creator to witness that she had been struck with exactly the same thought and made her head assistant bring printed silks patterned with leaves and flowers, such as England had not seen for many years. Measurements were taken, and Madame Sartoria promised to find or make coronals of leaves as it was obviously impossible to get Emmy into a hat." And as gifts to the bridesmaids, Mr Adams supplies "two bags of the finest petit point with garlands of tiny flowers and leaves and exquisitely wrought gilt clasps set with lovely pretence jewels."
Oh my goodness - both tremendously interesting quotes, I will have to add this one to my list just like Mrs M and Mrs C! I have read another book by AT lately (post upcoming soon) and I have to have a gap always, but this sounds unmissble. Just loving the bridesmaids, and even a mention of a Pythoness, an item I have discussed from time to time (there is a very good picture I use)
DeleteThere is also Miss Jessica Dean: "exquisite in a cloud of black lace with a twenty-five guinea piece of nonsense on her head that no one else could have worn, languished in an interesting condition on a small settee." Oh, and Dr Joram fondly recalls Mrs Brandon's pre-war frock that was "like a cloud of sweet peas."
DeleteIt’s never occurred to me that there might be WINTER Ascot – the name is so firmly associated with frilly flowery summer frocks and big flamboyant flowery hats.
Delete[Dame Eleanor - how do you achieve the italics?]
Sovay
I’ve been thinking about Thirkell in respect of characters created with the author’s thumb on the scales (see the recent post on “The Matchmaker “). What about Sir Ogilvy Hibberd, who exists solely to try to do things Thirkell’s favoured characters disapprove of, so that they can gleefully thwart him whilst telling each other what a ghastly man he is.
DeleteSovay
Sovay: You need to insert an i inside angle brackets (the pointy ones: < ) before what you want to italicize, and /i inside angle brackets after the italicized phrase. If that's not clear, search for "italics in HTML" and you'll get a better explanation.
DeleteI have downloaded the book Dame E, you made it sound irrestistible. 25 guineas for a hat! That would be £800 + in current times.
DeleteWinter Ascot doesn't get nearly as much attention, but i suppose racecourses can't be silent and empty the whole year
Re Thirkell's thumb on the scale, there's the Bishop and his wife who can do nothing right!
DeleteIsn't that just following Trollope?
DeleteYes but still very Thirkell! Is it true to say there is no-one completely unredeemed in Trollope? It's one of the things I most like about him
DeleteTrollope at least humanized Bishop Proudie, even if the bishop wasn't the most admirable human being! And Mrs Proudie is a wonder of characterization. Thirkell doesn't even try to give her Bishop and wife any characters of their own, they're only seen through the other characters' snark about them.
DeleteNot that Thirkell didn't follow Trollope in many ways! It was her approach that was different. (I don't recall many Mary Sue's among Trollope's heroines!)
DeleteTrollope was tremendously proud (!) of his creation of Mrs P. And as you say their parallels don't really appear in Thirkell.
DeleteHe didn't have his thumb on the scales so much....
"and is prone to the childfree’s certainty that they would do a lot better than actual parents"
ReplyDeletePerhaps, but really don't want to find out.
Not taking that chance
DeleteI'd suspect that some child-free people would do better than some parents, given the sorry excuses for parents that we come across (who are not the norm, I hope!).
DeleteThere will always be bad parents and good.
DeleteBut there are some things that people say ('why don't you just...?) that suggest a lack of understanding.
I'd agree that understanding the experience is vital. That lack of understanding shows up in areas other than parenting too.
DeleteYes - I would never want to dismiss people's thoughts altogether, but I dont feel I have to jump to agree with them.
DeleteAnd then there is the question of whether you can write about an experience you havent had - tht's a whole other can of worms
Wonder if Clement's kidnapping was in the style of Ransom of Red Chief....I have a vague memory of the bandits in CoMC, were they considered rather romantic figures?
ReplyDeleteYes! something like that. And indeed the bandits in CoMChristo were romantic, men of honour etc etc
DeleteI am firmly of the opinion that you can write about almost anything with enough research and imagination and empathy. I once wrote a short story from the point of view of a fish (and had it published, too) Chrissie
ReplyDeleteI can't resist saying that there were no other fish writing to say 'she got that wrong'!
DeleteBut yes, take your point. Although I still feel free to criticize those whom I think write about things they don't really get...
Are we going to open this can of worms?! My feeling is that some people have a gift for "getting into someone else's skin" but I think that empathy can only go so far. Could a white person really understand the feelings of a person of color who has faced a lifetime of discrimination? Could anyone but a mother understand what it feels like to be pregnant and give birth? Writers might make educated guesses about such things, but people who'd had the actual experiences might ask that old question, "Have you walked a mile in my shoes?"
DeleteThe question also comes up over acting. Nowadays I don't think (in UK) any white actor would play Othello - though they did for hundreds of years. And there are complaints that other roles should be played by people of the right heritage. I think I'm just glad I don't have to make those decisions. And of course women play all kinds of roles that were originally written for men (well, all Shakespeare women were originally written for men of course) - adds interest in my view.
Deletethe arguments can become complex.
I did realise as soon as I'd commented that that wasn't the best example! I still hold to my point though. Think of Middlemarch and Anna Karenina and Madame Bovary. Great writers can inhabit viewpoints very different from their own. As for the example of motherhood or pregnancy, if you haven't experienced that, you can always ask someone who has to read what you've written and tell you if you have got it right. I do agree though about the points about Othello and similar casting decisions. That is such a sensitive issue.
DeleteI'd take it on a case-by-case basis - with some general rules. I love Anna Karenina but find the women in War & Peace completely unconvincing and unreal. I love Dickens and his novels are works of art but his women are dire - lucky he didn't try to inhabit them too much.
DeleteBut I think also times change and the rules change: it was OK for white actors to play Othello in the past and it isn't now.