A couple of years ago I thought (as a gesture to God saying something like, “Hey, we don’t disagree about everything and anyway what do I know about life?”) that I would start going to a certain church where the pastor was an ex-football star. When I say it now it doesn’t sound like a very good idea, but I did a lot of things at that time that sound stupid now. Sometimes it’s better to go with what you know, even if it’s very little. I say all of this because the ultimate falling-out I had with the pastor of that church reflects the central conflict of the great and wonderful mystery story, Gaudy Night, so I’m going to use this review as a venue to air my grievances, which will hopefully be entertaining enough that you can bear with me. In fact, this book brings up a couple of stories I have about churches, so I should probably say as a disclaimer that Gaudy Night is not religious at all in its topic, but deals mostly with the role of women in society. That just happens to be something about which I tend to get pissed off at churches.Rather than preaching topically, this football pastor had decided that the entire church (which may not be fully of mega-church size, but is by no means small) would read through the Bible together in a year, like you do, and he would pull the sermons from our reading assignments. On Mother’s Day, we had just finished the book of Esther, so I was hopeful. There are a lot of troubling things about Esther, but also some really fascinating things. Also, it’s about a woman, so there are many good ways you can go with that. Nope. I should have known he would skip Esther entirely only to pick a random section from Judges to illustrate his spiritual message, which, as far as I could tell, was that he really liked when his mom would scratch his back before bedtime when he was in high school, so women shouldn’t work because they’re silly and it takes away time they could devote to scratching their family’s backs. As the sermon went on, I felt sure there would be some kind of uprising in the congregation. I was ready to get out my stash of pitchforks and torches and burn something down, but I didn’t want to leave because I might miss the end of his message where I hoped he would reveal that he was faking us all out to prove some point or another. His passion about the message culminated when he pulled out a quote from Some Woman, who is reputed to have said, “If all women CEOs quit their jobs, men could feed their families.” I looked around, hoping to see the scores of other women in the audience who would be equally shocked and appalled rushing for the door, when suddenly there was cheering and a woman in the back of the church yelled, “AMEN!” I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed in my life.The redemptive “Psych!” never came, so I drove home in a rage, pulled my copy of Backlash off its shelf, wrote a letter of complaint to the pastor in its inside cover, drove back to the church, and slammed it on the desk in his empty office. He never acknowledged the incident.I wish, at this point, I had read the book The Madwoman in the Attic, so that I could give more scholarly opinions about Gaudy Night. From what I know of that line of analysis, Dorothy Sayers’s villain in this novel, the “poisen-pen” haunting the women of Oxford, is along the lines of the 19th century Madwoman (think Jane Eyre). She characterizes female sexuality, but also a loathing of female sexuality as castrating and destructive, so she is this horrifying repressed monster (Grendel’s Mother, maybe?). In Gaudy Night this character terrorizes the cloistered professors in the women’s college at Oxford. It really makes for a delightful read! Sayers presents the varied personalities of the dons and students of the university with a lot of color and flair. The fun and thoughtful discussion Dorothy Sayers presents in Gaudy Night on the topic of women being intelligent humans in their own right was vindicating and cathartic for me to read. She illustrates both the freedom and the shame that successful women feel, and does it in this funny, charming, British way that I adore. Harriet Vane is wonderful! Sayers doesn’t pretend that all women are in favor of having rights, nor does she pretend that we are all a bunch of catty bitches. Some characters do become savage in their hatred of independent women, and those independent women become shrill in their suspicion of one another’s virginity or sexuality. Sayers shows these aspects as momentary weaknesses, however, which are secondary to the overall trust and regard that the women show each other. They are not caricatures, but have their own flaws and charms. I’m making this sound like the whole story is purposeful critical analysis, which it may be, but it definitely comes off as natural within the overall mystery story. I don't even usually like mysteries, and I don't have a sense of suspense, so it is surprising how much I love this book, but that's probably why the social aspect was more striking to me.I’m not fully with her in her use of classical quotations, which I take as an Oxford thing. Lord Peter Whimsey makes his appearance to be useful, charming, and supplicating. He doesn’t appear to be an overly realistic character (maybe too determinedly glad that Harriet is as smart as she is?), but I am in favor of wonderful authors writing people as they wish them to be, if not as they are – especially in the area of gender relations. Also, I love the way Sayers explores how women think of themselves. It would have been an unnecessary distraction to go into what men think of us. It was much more devastating to hear the woman shout “Amen!” at the back of that church, than to hear the male pastor go on about how women are good at scratching backs - and only that. Anyway, I think I’ve decided that maybe the use of classical quotations has to do with the battle of wits between Whimsey and Harriet, showing the equality of their intelligence and education. I like that, even though it was frustrating for my more pedestrian brain. I think I needed the Norton edition.I was given this book at a “housewarming shower”, held for me by a really wonderful woman, who is the pastor of a subsequent church I attended. “Shower” because I am over 25 and unmarried, and it is presumed that I would be sad that I haven’t had any wedding/baby showers. Men were uninvited to the event, and the (humorous?) theme of the “shower” was to give me books I would hate. This made my friends who came a little stressed out because they know how much I love books, so they felt all this pressure (contrary to the theme) to get me books I would love that I hadn’t read yet. Also, to me, shower=bad. Other than stuff on my cat, I think this was the most successful book from that evening, and it actually makes all of the uncomfortable female judgment worth it. I kind of love that this book was given to me in this really awkward event that only women were allowed to come to. Even though the evening was pretty fun, and I really do love most of the women who came, the concept of the shower said so much about my “failure” in being an independent, educated woman. This book has so much to say to the contrary. I love irony.
Where I got the book: my bookshelf. This is a 1940 Gollancz edition I picked up somewhere and I absolutely love it because no matter where you are in the story, the book lays flat and keeps its place. I get so impatient with books that won't stay open.The story: five years after being erroneously accused--and then, thanks to Lord Peter Wimsey, acquitted--of murdering her lover, Harriet Vane is getting on with her life as a writer and puzzling over what she's going to do about Lord Peter: push him out of her life or accede to his marriage proposals? She's invited back to Oxford to visit her old college, where a mysterious prankster and writer of anonymous notes seems to have a grudge against academic women in general and Shrewsbury College in particular. Called in to investigate, Harriet ponders whether an intellectual woman should allow love into her life or whether retirement into a life of learning is the answer. The appearance of Peter in Oxford to help with her investigations could be disastrous--maybe.This is my favorite Wimsey book, and probably one of my favorite love stories of all time. It is, I think, Sayers' most feminist novel, showing women trying to carve out an existence for themselves that has nothing to do with men, and yet acknowledging that love and relationships can have a place in a woman's life without totally destroying her true self. I think Sayers is arguing for give and take; it's true even today that women make a certain sacrifice, far more than men do, when they enter into a marriage (the physical and emotional effects of childbearing and the change in status are still very real, despite our so-called progress) and I think Sayers is seeking, not so much an end to such sacrifice but an acknowledgement that it is real and should not be entered into lightly.After pulling Wimsey and Vane through two novels, Sayers is faced with the challenge of getting two emotionally scarred characters to the big Yes, and she does so through Harriet's eyes, using her beloved Oxford as the catalyst. In the (disturbed) peace of academe, Harriet is able to reconcile her past with her present, explore Wimsey's own vulnerabilities and finally acknowledge her physical attraction to him. It's that attraction, it seems to me, that's the clincher; Sayers clearly believes that marriage must be a union of bodies first and foremost, and that the emotional and intellectual side of things will sort itself out if the physical bond is strong enough.It's also interesting that Harriet's new insights into her own feelings bring about a revolution in her development as a writer. It's often been said that Harriet is Sayers herself, and indeed I have always had the impression that Sayers fell in love with her own creation, Wimsey, and wrote herself into the stories so that he could fall for her; a very interesting statement about the life of the imagination! Whether that's true or not, I happen to find Harriet convincing in her own right, but what she discovers about her writing in Gaudy Night may well be a reflection of Sayers' feelings about how a detective novel should be, i.e. no mere intellectual puzzle but a true novel with psychological growth in the characters. I think we take it for granted today that the characters in a novel should have a growth arc, recognizing two-dimensional characters for what they are and scorning them; I think we tend to forget that even some of the best writers of bygone decades tended to deal far more in caricatures and "types" than we would now accept. What we still read now are the ones that survived precisely because they were a cut above the others.Gaudy Night, famously, contains no murder but there are a whole lot of motives for murder, all centered on human relationships. Sayers tackles the demons (her own, I can't help but thinking) of possessiveness and jealousy, and the kind of love that wants to absorb its object. She argues for balance; but does she entirely achieve it with her lead characters? I'm not so sure.
Do You like book Gaudy Night (1995)?
Oxford has provided the background to many detective stories, and it’s a great setting for a crime novel. What interesting about Gaudy Night is that Sayers doesn’t just use it as background - the human and professional dramas afflicting the women of Shrewsbury College are the real meat of the book. You could argue that the detective story in this case is merely the background detail! Sayers is attempting something quite ambitious for 1936 - this is a detective story, a love story, and a serious analysis of the problems facing women who choose to pursue careers. It’s very definitely a feminist novel. It’s also ambitious in that Sayers is trying to create characters with a genuine inner life, rather than mere cogs in the machine of the plot.Although Lord Peter Wimsey certainly figures in the book the central character is very much Harriet Vane. Like Sayers, Harriet is a Oxford graduate and a writer of detective fiction who has led a somewhat scandalous personal life (although Sayers managed to avoid public scandal). She was undoubtedly using this character to work through some personal issues. She also uses both Harriet (a fictional writer of detective stories) and Lord Peter (a fictional detective) to playfully send up the crime fiction genre. A very impressive piece of work. I like Sayers more and more.
—Dfordoom
After wading through what seemed like heaps of dubiously feminist Victoriana literature it was refreshing and liberating to find a book that tackled some issues of women's equality directly.At its root, of course, Gaudy Night is a mystery novel; but somehow the mystery manages to shuffle off, first taking second stage, then third, to other, more pertinent, issues. Initially, it is overshadowed by the discussion of women's rights for education, their belonging in the world of academia, their relevance and the work they do. Then - without neglecting the issues at hand - it is also neatly taken over by a love story.As far as Wimsey stories go, this one is least about the 'mystery'. More so than even its prequels, Murder, Must Advertise and the Nine Tailors, what it's principally interested in is not 'who did this?" but "why did they do it?" and "what sort of issues can we deal with, and how?"The gist of the plot is that someone unknown attempts to frighten, harass, victimise and otherwise make life unpleasant for the residents - students and dons - of one of Oxford's female colleges. Shrewsbury (a fictional college, by the way) is disinclined to seek publicity, due to the sensitivity of their position and the shambles this affair would put to their name, and ask Harriet vane, a graduate of the college, to investigate the matter by herself.While undertaking this mission, Harriet settles to academic life among the women-scholars - all, by necessity and societally imposed rules, unmarried - as well as the undergraduate female students. While she bumbles (let's be frank here) with moderate competency through the mystery, she attempts to sort her feelings towards her life, her profession, and, most especially, Wimsey.I have to admit that towards the end of the book I was already screaming 'make up your mind!' at her, but I can see how, throughout the story, she establishes her relationship with Wimsey on a more equal footing. I still feel that her waffling and wobbling are a bit too extensive, her scruples a bit too pronounced, and her decision a bit too sudden.That said, what really interested me in the book is the issue of women's education; Sayers, as one of the first women to get an Oxford degree, by the way, could not just let the problem slide under the carpet. Her take on it is somewhat dated, of course, and perhaps ambiguous at times, but at no point in the book does she present her women - all concerned with looks, clothes and female things - as shoddy scholars or a subpar academics. The same goes for the students. Perhaps consciously she mulls over the matter of females in academia, but in her mind, when looking at particulars, she makes a firm and unequivocal claim that they belong there.On the whole, though this is not the best book to begin one's acquaintance with Wimsey on, this is the one most likely to appeal to readers of generic literary fiction as opposed to readers of mysteries or detective novels. It possesses the widest scope, socially and psychologically, and is comprised of the most believable characters Sayers wrote so far.
—Genia Lukin
I found Dorothy Sayers and her Wonderful Wimsey only about 2 years ago and I spent a week reading all of the books with Harriet Lane, because as you see I am SUCH a romantic. This of course is the best of the books for that particular interest because here we have some real romance combined with the inevitable mystery. In this book Harriet comes alive to us and it is through her eyes we learn about her adoring Sir Peter and just when it should all far apart...I love Dorothy Sayer's writing because her plots are incredibly intricate and almost always too complicated for my poor simple mind and I think that she adored Sir Peter too. So I suppose we share her adoration of this man/character. I think in this book particularly she allows us to glimpse her world and Harriet's love of Oxford can only be a reflection of Ms Sayer's. I also think as a woman and a reader you have to admire who Ms Sayers was, both in terms of a writer as well as somebody who broke tradition in the closely knit world of Oxford.So this is now one of those books that when I'm tired and a little lazy, I reach for in the same way that some people would pick up the phone and call a friend; just to chat briefly and smile and waste away a few hours.
—Samantha
