Have His Carcase: Chapters 7-9
First of all, I'm not going to attempt any funny dialogue recaps because . . . I am not funny.
Second, there are NO proposals in this section, but there is partial nudity. Sort of. ;)
Chapter 7: The Evidence of the Gigolos
Harriet learns from Antoine the gigolo that Paul Alexis was indeed engaged to Mrs. Weldon but didn't seem to hate the idea enough to kill himself. Later, Harriet learns from the female dancers Doris and Charis that Paul Alexis had delusions of grandeur and noble birth, and thus his financially-motivated engagement to Mrs. Welson seemed uncharacteristically lacking in "poetry." We also learn that Paul was terrified of cuts or bruises, and so the possibility of him killing himself with a razor was totally out of character. He ostensibly wore a beard to cover his pimples, but the thoughtful reader is thinking "fear of cutting himself with a razor?" Ultimately, Harriet plans to interview Paul's "maitresse" (mistress), Leila Garland.
Note: I grew up understanding the term "gigolo" as male prostitute. So when I first read this book, I was a little alarmed that these young male dancers were having sex with all the old ladies! According to the sources at Dictionary.com, the word originated around 1922 as the masculine version of the French "gigole" meaning "dancing girl" first and "prostitute" second. According to The Lord Peter Wimsey Companion (which I have in my hands courtesy of Interlibrary loan!), gigolo is "loosely, a man living off the earnings of a woman. More specifically, a male dancer or escort. It is this latter sense that is meant in HHC." And yet, you can't deny the strong connotations of prostitution. When you read what Antoine says, it sounds like there's plenty of hanky-panky going on.
Questions: Any thoughts on the "gigolo" issue? Any thoughts on Antoine, in particular? I remember him from the TV adaptation as being sort of nondescript and vaguely gay. He's a much stronger presence in the book. He has good chemistry with Harriet, but then, having good chemistry with ladies is his line of work, right?
Favorite bit of dialogue from this chapter, from Antoine -- "Very well, Alexis come and dance, and the ladies are delighted. The beard is so distinguished, so romantic, so unusual. They come a very long distance express to dance with the beard." Hee!
References: one to Mr. Micawber from David Copperfield. Other stuff is listed at Wimsey Notes, including French translations.
Chapter 8: The Evidence of the Second Barber
Peter, looking forward to a delicious "spot of something" during his interview of Colonel Belfridge, is instead faced with a very indignant and difficult man. But as soon as Belfridge learns the details of Peter's war record, he is all too pleased to spill the details on the Endicott razors, albeit with several digressions. Peter eventually learns the Colonel gave away an Endicott razor with a cracked handle to his gardener in 1926. Peter then traces the razor to Seahampton, where he learns it was recently sold to a "tramping" sort of hairdresser. That man, a Mr. Bright, was a sandy-haired "rat of a fellow" with a smooth manner and crooked shoulder.
Not a question so much as a thought: Having read this many times, the amazing detail in the description of Bright really strikes me, and subsequently I get annoyed with Peter for not being suspicious of this. At this point, he doesn't consider that Bright might have WANTED to be remembered.
Favorite passage from this chapter: "Wimsey, sleek with breakfast, sunshine and sentiment, strolled peacefully upon the close-clipped lawn of the George at Stamford, pausing now and again to inhale the scent of a crimson rose, or to marvel at the age and extent of the wisteria," etc. (I'm always tickled when Peter is feeling "sleek.")
References: the comparison of Col. Belfridge to an H.M. Bateman caricature. (Apparently, Bateman was fond of drawing stereotypical military types. Go here and click "Steadiness on Parade" -- or just about any of the options, really -- for an example.)
Chapter 9: The Evidence of the Flat-Iron (or "The one where Harriet ogles Peter in his bathing-suit")
Harriet and Peter sit on the beach and discuss the time of death for Paul Alexis. Harriet confirms that Paul's blood was liquid when she touched the body, and Peter is horrified by the implications -- Paul could only have been dead a few minutes and so Harriet must have been nearby when the throat-cutting was going on. So if it was a murder, "what became of the murderer?" Harriet remembers a fishing boat, but doesn't think it was near enough to belong to the murderer. Harriet then theorizes that the murderer was hiding nearby as she examined the body, and this leads to what I consider the "fan-fictiony" bit where they strip to their bathing suits to check out possible hidey holes around the rock. (See favorite quote below) Peter finds a ring that's recently been driven into the rock and wonders what one might tie to it. Harriet remembers running into Perkins on the way to Wilvercombe, and they discuss the possibility of Perkins=Bright=Murderer. But mostly they're just talking in circles and being cute.
Questions: Usually, I get fatigued after long passages of narrative and look forward to bits of dialogue. But the long passages of dialogue in this book -- the "what if this? Or this? Or maybe this?" -- tend to fatigue me. This is the only book of the three where I might actually prefer the TV adaptation to the novel because the script is so tight and there's not quite so much of this "sitting around and talking it out" sort of stuff. Is that total blasphemy to your ears? I mean, there IS action in this scene -- when they swim around and explore -- but still, the talking. Maybe I wish there was more flirting. (Later, when P & H have their blowout in Paul's room, I'm quite pleased with all the talking. It's so dramatic. But that's someone else's territory.)
Favorite passage from this chapter: "'And he strips better that I should have expected,' she admitted candidly to herself. 'Better shoulders than I realised, and, thank Heaven, calves to his legs.'"
References: one to Kipling's "How the Leopard Got its Spots" and one to Dr. Thorndyke -- "the fictitious medico-legal detective genius created by R. Austin Freeman," according to the LPW Companion.
And to conclude with a follow-up to my "fan fiction" reference above, I thought I'd link you to this LJ post from YA author Sarah Rees Brennan, in which she imagines Dorothy discussing Strong Poison with her editor. You'll see what I mean when you read it.
There's lots of evidence for Dorothy Sayers having "fangirl" tendencies, but that would be fodder for an entirely different post!
Second, there are NO proposals in this section, but there is partial nudity. Sort of. ;)
Chapter 7: The Evidence of the Gigolos
Harriet learns from Antoine the gigolo that Paul Alexis was indeed engaged to Mrs. Weldon but didn't seem to hate the idea enough to kill himself. Later, Harriet learns from the female dancers Doris and Charis that Paul Alexis had delusions of grandeur and noble birth, and thus his financially-motivated engagement to Mrs. Welson seemed uncharacteristically lacking in "poetry." We also learn that Paul was terrified of cuts or bruises, and so the possibility of him killing himself with a razor was totally out of character. He ostensibly wore a beard to cover his pimples, but the thoughtful reader is thinking "fear of cutting himself with a razor?" Ultimately, Harriet plans to interview Paul's "maitresse" (mistress), Leila Garland.
Note: I grew up understanding the term "gigolo" as male prostitute. So when I first read this book, I was a little alarmed that these young male dancers were having sex with all the old ladies! According to the sources at Dictionary.com, the word originated around 1922 as the masculine version of the French "gigole" meaning "dancing girl" first and "prostitute" second. According to The Lord Peter Wimsey Companion (which I have in my hands courtesy of Interlibrary loan!), gigolo is "loosely, a man living off the earnings of a woman. More specifically, a male dancer or escort. It is this latter sense that is meant in HHC." And yet, you can't deny the strong connotations of prostitution. When you read what Antoine says, it sounds like there's plenty of hanky-panky going on.
Questions: Any thoughts on the "gigolo" issue? Any thoughts on Antoine, in particular? I remember him from the TV adaptation as being sort of nondescript and vaguely gay. He's a much stronger presence in the book. He has good chemistry with Harriet, but then, having good chemistry with ladies is his line of work, right?
Favorite bit of dialogue from this chapter, from Antoine -- "Very well, Alexis come and dance, and the ladies are delighted. The beard is so distinguished, so romantic, so unusual. They come a very long distance express to dance with the beard." Hee!
References: one to Mr. Micawber from David Copperfield. Other stuff is listed at Wimsey Notes, including French translations.
Chapter 8: The Evidence of the Second Barber
Peter, looking forward to a delicious "spot of something" during his interview of Colonel Belfridge, is instead faced with a very indignant and difficult man. But as soon as Belfridge learns the details of Peter's war record, he is all too pleased to spill the details on the Endicott razors, albeit with several digressions. Peter eventually learns the Colonel gave away an Endicott razor with a cracked handle to his gardener in 1926. Peter then traces the razor to Seahampton, where he learns it was recently sold to a "tramping" sort of hairdresser. That man, a Mr. Bright, was a sandy-haired "rat of a fellow" with a smooth manner and crooked shoulder.
Not a question so much as a thought: Having read this many times, the amazing detail in the description of Bright really strikes me, and subsequently I get annoyed with Peter for not being suspicious of this. At this point, he doesn't consider that Bright might have WANTED to be remembered.
Favorite passage from this chapter: "Wimsey, sleek with breakfast, sunshine and sentiment, strolled peacefully upon the close-clipped lawn of the George at Stamford, pausing now and again to inhale the scent of a crimson rose, or to marvel at the age and extent of the wisteria," etc. (I'm always tickled when Peter is feeling "sleek.")
References: the comparison of Col. Belfridge to an H.M. Bateman caricature. (Apparently, Bateman was fond of drawing stereotypical military types. Go here and click "Steadiness on Parade" -- or just about any of the options, really -- for an example.)
Chapter 9: The Evidence of the Flat-Iron (or "The one where Harriet ogles Peter in his bathing-suit")
Harriet and Peter sit on the beach and discuss the time of death for Paul Alexis. Harriet confirms that Paul's blood was liquid when she touched the body, and Peter is horrified by the implications -- Paul could only have been dead a few minutes and so Harriet must have been nearby when the throat-cutting was going on. So if it was a murder, "what became of the murderer?" Harriet remembers a fishing boat, but doesn't think it was near enough to belong to the murderer. Harriet then theorizes that the murderer was hiding nearby as she examined the body, and this leads to what I consider the "fan-fictiony" bit where they strip to their bathing suits to check out possible hidey holes around the rock. (See favorite quote below) Peter finds a ring that's recently been driven into the rock and wonders what one might tie to it. Harriet remembers running into Perkins on the way to Wilvercombe, and they discuss the possibility of Perkins=Bright=Murderer. But mostly they're just talking in circles and being cute.
Questions: Usually, I get fatigued after long passages of narrative and look forward to bits of dialogue. But the long passages of dialogue in this book -- the "what if this? Or this? Or maybe this?" -- tend to fatigue me. This is the only book of the three where I might actually prefer the TV adaptation to the novel because the script is so tight and there's not quite so much of this "sitting around and talking it out" sort of stuff. Is that total blasphemy to your ears? I mean, there IS action in this scene -- when they swim around and explore -- but still, the talking. Maybe I wish there was more flirting. (Later, when P & H have their blowout in Paul's room, I'm quite pleased with all the talking. It's so dramatic. But that's someone else's territory.)
Favorite passage from this chapter: "'And he strips better that I should have expected,' she admitted candidly to herself. 'Better shoulders than I realised, and, thank Heaven, calves to his legs.'"
References: one to Kipling's "How the Leopard Got its Spots" and one to Dr. Thorndyke -- "the fictitious medico-legal detective genius created by R. Austin Freeman," according to the LPW Companion.
And to conclude with a follow-up to my "fan fiction" reference above, I thought I'd link you to this LJ post from YA author Sarah Rees Brennan, in which she imagines Dorothy discussing Strong Poison with her editor. You'll see what I mean when you read it.
There's lots of evidence for Dorothy Sayers having "fangirl" tendencies, but that would be fodder for an entirely different post!