Women Detectives: Meet The Victorian Female Super Sleuths

Women Detectives: Meet The Victorian Female Super Sleuths

As promised/ threatened, delving back into my Drafts archive has unearthed this post, originally written in November 2020.  The subject: a then-recent feature film which would perhaps normally have appeared on this blog at the time of its release in September of that year - Enola Holmes.   Instead it almost passed me by on its way to Netflix (as so many otherwise cinema-bound movies have, my not having a subscription to these things).  Perhaps it is just as well, as having viewed the trailer I cannot help but have some misgivings about this particular foray into Victorian society and the Holmsian and despite its largely glowing reviews I find myself more in agreement with the few mixed responses I have read, for reasons that I will go on to explain.

I daresay I'm not the core target audience - the film being based on the Young Adult books by Nancy Springer and directed by Fleabag's Harry Bradbeer - and anything that encourages the younger generation to discover the joys of Conan Doyle's writing should be welcomed, but I cannot help but feel that the filmmakers are once again engaged in what amounts to an unnecessary degree of cultural revisionism.  

It is one of the more debatable characteristics of this self-styled enlightened, modern society that the prevailing - and one might almost say arrogant - belief is that we are in every way better than the generations that have gone before.  For my own part I have on multiple occasions put down on this blog my own thoughts on the subject of mixing the positive, still-valued elements of my preferred era with the undoubtedly welcome advancements of the modern day while at the same time recognising the more insupportable aspects.  Although the need to keep defending this outlook continues to bother me I do feel it bears repetition.    

Yes, a great deal of what went on centuries (or even decades) ago - in this instance the treatment of women in 19th century Britain - is in hindsight reprehensible but as the saying goes hindsight is a wonderful thing and it is unfair to judge (one might almost say to find those unable to defend themselves guilty by default) past cultures by modern standards.  I wonder how we would we feel if our social mores - attitudes which we would not give a second thought to being anything but normal - were subject to such levels of criticism by a 23rd-century observer, to whom they might be an anathema?

Being as morally superior as possible will make no difference to what has occurred lifetimes ago.  Deplore it, absolutely, learn from it, certainly, but stop applying 21st-century morals to previous eras.  The past cannot be altered, so better to dismount from that moral high horse and focus on changing the present to make the future an even better place.

Anyway, with that particular rant over I will only say one further thing on the subject of Enola Holmes going by what little I have seen and read.  While I repeat my hope that the appearance of this character on the [small] screen will inspire a new generation [of young women] and motivate them to seek out the works of Conan Doyle I cannot summon the level of enthusiasm I would have hoped a film like this might have instilled in me, mainly for the reasons I have outlined above.  The characters of Sherlock and Mycroft, whom I might be more readily expected to relate with, have inevitably been altered to become more akin to antagonists to the main character.  So much so, in fact, that in the case of Sherlock it has attracted the ire of the Conan Doyle Estate (who one might have assumed would have welcomed anything that would swell their coffers) to the point where they have instituted legal proceedings on the basis that Henry Cavill's characterisation of the Great Detective is too emotional and not in keeping with the character.  While as a traditional Sherlockian I can appreciate their point of view (although not to the point of a lawsuit) I can understand the filmmakers' desire to give the character more depth for a modern audience for whom the idea of an unemotional man simply wouldn't scan.  In any event if they do invest in the original stories off the back of this film they may be surprised to find any number of strong-willed female characters contained therein.  Just off the top of my head I can think of half a dozen such examples, including Helen Stoner in The Adventure of the Speckled Band, Violet Hunter in The Adventure of the Copper Beeches, Violet Smith in The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist, Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope in The Adventure of the Second Stain, and of course Irene Adler in A Scandal in Bohemia.

source - Wikimedia Commons
Maud West, a female detective active in London
from 1905 to 1939, here photographed disguised as
a Salvation Army worker, circa 1920.

Hmmm, it seems I rather "went off on one" as a result of that film - I do apologise!  It obviously touched a nerve at the time!  I still stand by my comments though - they remain as true to me now as they did two years ago.  Anyway, the article that forms the primary subject of this post highlights a fascinating and oft-overlooked aspect of Victorian society - the existence of real-life female detectives (or "inquiry agents", to use the quaint terminology of the time).  Surely the brave, independent and resourceful women mentioned in this piece are deserving of having their own adventures and achievements chronicled for today's audiences, be that in documentary or fictionalised form.  Even the few stories touched upon in the article sound most intriguing and thrilling and could doubtless be adapted or retold for modern viewers with little difficulty (and in a way that would no doubt appeal to modern values).  Admittedly there have been recent adaptions of The Sally Lockhart Mysteries by Philip Pullman, starring Billie Piper, and four series of PBS-Alibi original Miss Scarlet & The Duke (sometimes available on the Drama channel for UK viewers) but even judging from what little one reads here there remains a mine of real-life incidents worth retelling.  I note that since I first started writing this post Enola Holmes 2 was released on Netflix last year so obviously the character has proved a success; as happy as I am that this is the case, I still can't help feeling that there remains a missed opportunity for the long-forgotten achievements of actual Enola Holmeses to be properly celebrated.  

Archie Goodwin, Style Icon

Time for another of my style icons, this time with a bit of a difference.  I said when I first started this series that I would draw inspiration from my favourite actors of the Golden Era but also that I would mix it up now and again with a fictional character from the world of [modern] film or television.  Here is the first.

I'm currently re-watching my A Nero Wolfe Mystery DVDs so I feel now is the time to do a few caps and find a few pictures of Archie Goodwin, Nero Wolfe's wisecracking leg-man, as portrayed by Timothy Hutton in the 2000-2002 A&E series.  As we only really know Archie from Rex Stout's books and this TV series, this post may take on more of characteristics of a fashion overview (in the manner of the Captain Hastings series) but I will try to look at some of the admirable character traits of Archie, highly stylised for fiction though they may be.

Snappily-dressed to match his snappy and quick-witted personality, Archie dresses in typical Fifties fashion with added flair.

As the series was set in a particularly colourful 1950s world (I don't think I've seen such a wonderful use of colour on film since Dick Tracy) Archie can often be seen wearing beautifully-coloured suits, which suit (pardon the pun!) his personality perfectly anyway.  I like to think the Archie of the books is similarly dressed.  Some of the original illustrations go some way to this confirm this.

Most of the primary colours are represented in suit form, and I want all of them!


Blue:

As with all his outfits, he accessorises brilliantly with contrasting ties and pocket squares and occasionally his trusty white trilby.

His green suit, in certain lights takes on a remarkable turquoise hue and even undone in times of trouble still looks good.

The red suit is equally covetable - a splendid shade which he contrasts successfully with a dark overcoat and fedora on many occasions.

And finally the famous white suit - a definite summer staple.  With this snazzy number Archie tends to wear a coloured, striped shirt - usually red or blue - and the matching white hat.  Unfortunately this is a difficult look for us mere mortals to pull off - around here comparisons with Martin Bell or even worse The Man from Del Monte usually result.

Even sans jacket Archie can still display a variety of colours - an excellent illustration that the main items of a chap's wardrobe aren't the only things that require thought.  What a perfect (and patriotic!) red, white and blue combination!

As well as these aforementioned accessories, Archie can also be seen brightening up some of his darker (plainer) outfits with that Fifties staple - the Co-respondent/ Spectator shoe.  They suit his personality down to the ground.

In addition to his Co-respondents Archie frequently uses colourful ties and pocket squares to break up his darker suits.  Red with blacks and greys, yellow with blues, and so on.

Further on the accessories front, Archie sometimes wears a gorgeous red fedora but is careful never to wear it with his red suit, instead contrasting it with his dark overcoat.

And when out working on a case, especially in the depths of winter, no-one looks classier than Archie Goodwin in a fedora, overcoat and contrasting scarf.

Topped off with some lovely touches in the form of spearpoint collars with gold tie-bar, Archie is the consumate dresser.  Then of course there is the classic pinstripe suit:

Yet even dishevelled and tired, he can still cut a dash!

The character of Archie Goodwin is revealed partly through his clothes - attentive to detail, serious but with a playful side.  It is a measure of our favourite literary and screen characters that we want to be like them - what I wouldn't give for half of Archie's confidence and ability (not to mention his wardrobe!).

A street-smart ladies' man who can bluff, rough-house it, socialise and investigate with the best of them, Archie Goodwin is an all-round solid fellow, expertly essayed by Timothy Hutton in the A&E series.  As such he fully qualifies as a Style Icon.

Of course special recognition in this case should go to series' costume designer Christopher Hargadon.  And no discussion of A Nero Wolfe Mystery would be complete without a mention for the man himself, Nero Wolfe as brilliantly portrayed by the late great Maury Chakin.  Just as inspiring for his love and use of the colour yellow (also my favourite), he is proof of that which is contained in the original Chap Manifesto - "a well-tailored suit can disguise the most ruined of bodies."

New Year tomes

Well I hope everyone had a fantastic New Year's, whatever you got up to. Myself, I watched 2011 come in on the TV, wondering whether I was alone in thinking that the annual fireworks display in front of the London Eye has gone from impressive to overwhelming - there are only so many times the screen can go bright white before you start thinking "all right, that's enough now". After 10 minutes and no sign of it letting up I switched off, sang along to the version of Auld Lang Syne on my iPod then listened to Tommy Kinsman & His Orchestra playing the Gay Gordons (it was a decades-old tradition in our family to dance to it on New Year's Eve - somehow I've wound up with the record but not enough room and no-one to dance with!).



Since money is tight at the moment I've generally eschewed the sales - only popping out on Thursday to take advantage of them in the purchase of a new electric razor to replace my old one that just happened to pack up on Christmas Eve. I also bought two pairs of Oxford shoes - one brown pair and one black - in the Clarks sale, only to find on getting them home that my blasted feet had hoodwinked me. I can take any size between a 9 and a 10 (my shoes consist of one pair of 9s, one 9½ and one 10!) depending on the style of the shoe. I'd picked up Nines because that's what I was wearing at the time and I thought they were the same but when I arrived home and compared them they were actually identical in style to my Tens and consequently just a smidgen too tight (although they felt OK in the shop - proof that trying shoes on one at a time in a retail environment is not conducive to good decision-making!). So there you have it ladies - we chaps have trouble with our shoes sometimes too!

I took them back the next day and ended up getting a refund as they'd sold out of 10s (blast it), so to quell my disappointment I gave into temptation and went into my local branch of The Works bookshop. In the past I've snapped up some real bargains in there and although I didn't need (or have the space for!) any more books I didn't think it would hurt to have a look. I ended up coming out £10 lighter and 6 books heavier! They were doing 3 for £5 on end-of-stock fiction paperbacks and, as always seems to be the way, I found five that appealed to me. Eventually I found a sixth to make up the offer, and here they are:

For some reason despite being a fan of period crime fiction I've always seemed to restrict myself to Agatha Christie's Poirot series, Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason books and collections of lurid American pulp fiction from the '20s and '30s, but to my shame I have never read any of Dorothy L. Sayers' wonderful Lord Peter Wimsey Mysteries (I have seen a few episodes of both the brilliant 1970s series, starring the late Ian Carmichael, and the later '80s adaptation with Edward Petherbridge. I must try and watch some more, preferably the ones with Carmichael). I can put that to rights now as there were copies of two stories - Clouds Of Witness and Whose Body?

Georgette Heyer is another contemporary of Christie and Sayers who I have just recently come across - I picked up a copy of one of her crime novels, Why Shoot a Butler?, in a charity shop a few months ago. It's been a very atmospheric story with a great period feel, so I expect more of the same from Footsteps in the Dark.

It was then that I caught sight of two more books, which I'd never heard of before but which looked intriguing. They're part of The Daisy Dalrymple Series of mysteries by the modern author Carola Dunn and feature the characters of 1920s writer Daisy Dalrymple and her fiance police inspector Alec Fletcher. From what little I've seen, they would appear to be rather in the Tommy & Tuppence mold, I think. Despite being by a current author the books are written in a jolly Twenties style, with lots of period charm, settings, the use of 1920s slang etc. I was strangely both attracted and put off by the covers; a nagging doubt assailed me that - female author, female lead character, Twenties-style artwork on the cover but perhaps slightly feminine - I began to wonder if this was period "chick-lit". I needn't have worried though; the blurb on the back reassured me and it passed my interesting read test - if the first paragraph/page grabs me and makes me want to keep on reading, it's usually a winner.

Now casting about for a sixth book I came across another series - the Jim Stringer - Steam Detective set of six stories. With things starting to spiral out of control and 3 for £5 already now 6 for £10 and threatening to become 9 for £15 or worse I weighed up which of the series sounded the best and settled on The Lost Luggage Porter. Set in 1906, railway detective Jim Stringer investigates two murders on a York-bound train.

So another pile of books is added to my collection and jolly good they sound too. Considering their cover values combined came to over £45 I think a tenner turned out to be an absolute bargain! It'll be a treat to read some new authors for a change; my reading list has been far too narrow of late. Now it's just a matter of finding some space in the bookcase...