Above: The Butler Library at Columbia University, April 28th 2005
Jimmy Buffett yells "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore."
That about sums up my sentiment when I decided to
write this article.
I had just read the "Gumshoe Who Wore Pince-Nez"*
(New York Times, May 6, 2005)
by Janet Maslin, an article inspired by the symposium that preceded the
opening of "The Quintessential Ellery Queen: Celebrating the
Centennial of Frederic Dannay and Manfred B. Lee," an exhibition at the
Butler Library at Columbia University in New York City. When I found the
article I was at first glad that at least some coverage was given to this
event. After all, I made my first trip to the United States inspired by the
possibility of attending the Symposium. The fact that I only came to know
the symposium was being held a short week beforehand proved no obstacle
either. So if someone went to so much "trouble" why wouldn't there be media
coverage? I'm sure the author meant it in the nicest possible way when she
pointed out in the article that the symposium was attended by only a small
circle of people. From her perspective this small turnout was expected.
Hence her remark that "[e]veryone at the small symposium sponsored by
Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine undoubtedly knew the following: that
Dannay and Lee wrote their first book, The Roman Hat Mystery, to win a
$7,500 prize in a magazine contest" But how did we find ourselves in a
world where it is expected that only a few stalwarts would be interested in
the Queen opus?
This reminded me of another
article by S.T. Karnick, "Mystery Men - authors behind pseudonym
Ellery Queen have enduring influence" *
(National Review, March 6, 2000).
The article opened by noting that "[t]he fact that hardly anybody reads
Ellery Queen today indicates the depths to which American mystery
fiction-has fallen" The article -- prompted by the 70th anniversary of
The Roman Hat Mystery - went on to observe that
"the first Ellery
Queen novel, The Roman Hat Mystery, appeared 70 years ago, and it's no
exaggeration to say that Queen set the standard and form of the modern
American crime story." Yet the anniversary otherwise passed with little
fanfare. EQMM dedicated an issue to its founder and namesake, and a small
publisher released the outline of a final, unpublished Queen novel together
with essay recollections by family and friends, but that was about it.
Almost none of Queen's books are now in print in the United States, and the
few that are, are very hard to find. This is a shame. Ellery Queen
was the single most important figure of the Golden Age of the American
mystery, which ran from the 1930s through the '50s. Ellery Queen, as
critic Anthony Boucher put it, "is the American detective story." Karnick's
article concludes by saying "his writings merit a
revival and serious reassessment. Such a revival might also be our best hope
for a renewal of the genre that Frederic Dannay and Manfred Lee did so much
to build and sustain."
The observations from The New York Times article and the near disappearance
of the works of Queen are self-evidently true. But are they necessarily
inevitable? Is it inevitable that the Queen works can only be sustained in
the minds of a dwindling number of devotees?
It is hard to describe the
thrill I felt at the symposium when I met all of the Queen scholars and
family members in attendance. But standing in that room full of devotees I
also remembered an anecdote recounted by Professor Nevins in
Sound of
Detection. In the 70s, Nevins wrote, a fan approached Manfred Lee and
told him that he believed Lee was one of the greatest writers who ever
lived. Lee replied that this didn't say much for his taste.
Such self-deprecation is amusing and perhaps endearing, but it is not
warranted. I experienced this "need to apologize" a bit myself when trying
to explain to friends why I decided, on three days notice, to fly across the
Atlantic to attend the EQ centenary symposium. What could merit this
behavior? Although I can hardly deny my fascination with the Queen-works, I
am also not blind to their faults. But in balance I appreciate their merits.
And the fact remains that this fascination brought me all the way to New
York City. The merits of the Queen works are clearly there! Logic, linear
analysis, Socratic dialogues and playing fair with the reader.
So imagine with me, if you will, a slightly different world. A world where
you can go to a neighborhood bookstore and find ten or twelve recent
editions of Ellery Queen works, all with matching covers. A world
where the back cover of each and every one of those volumes promises the
publication of more works soon. Books with cover art so wonderful that it is
almost collectible. Imagine a world where you could go to the theatre to see
a new production of The Roman Hat Mystery. Imagine looking at a list of
popular writers as reported by customers and finding that Ellery Queen
has several books in the top 10. Imagine, if you will, not having to explain
who Ellery Queen was.
Well this is not, in fact, an imaginary world. What I have just
described exists, just not in the United States. Everything I have just
described is taking place, in 2005, in Italy, Japan, China, Taiwan, Germany
and elsewhere. Only last year The Roman Hat Mystery was staged in Italy
(see the picture, below, from an Italian newspaper with a
"tip of the hat"
to our website!)
Above:
Italian newspaper article announcing the 2004 play
The Roman Hat Mystery (La Poltrona n°30 or Chair N°30)
Above: a picture of another "Italian" EQ play The House of Brass (La febbre
dell'ottone).
So the "imaginary" scenario I sketched is really only imaginary in the
United States, ironically, the country most associated with Queen. While
Ellery Queen is still read by many people throughout the world, and by
new generations who seem to enjoy it as much as their predecessors, that is
no longer the case in the United States. Are Americans that different? - I
think not. |