Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers

[meganbmoore]

Having watched the trial of Harriet Vane, an authoress accused of murdering her former lover, Wimsey has become convinced that the woman is innocent, and is thrilled when the murder trial results in a hung jury, requiring another trial a month later. Wimsey decides to prove Harriet’s innocence and interviews her, proposing marriage as he does so. Harriet rightly thanks him for his assistance, and even more rightly rejects him. Wimsey isn’t deterred from either goal.

Being locked up in jail the whole time, Harriet isn’t given a lot to do in her first appearance besides stand by her beliefs (strange at a glance, but understandable when you think about them) and say “Well, you seem like a perfectly nice and likable man, and I’m very happy you’re trying to save my life, but I barely know you, so would you mind not proposing to me in jail every time we meet? It’s a bit uncomfortable. Especially given that my last relationship was a man testing my worthiness as his wife.” 

Sayers was clearly having fun with this one, dropping hints by characters who would have no idea what they were saying, and talking about writing mysteries and detectives. There were a lot of really obvious similarities between this and Unnatural Death. Both revolve around an ill person dying in a way that initially appears to be from natural causes, both have an obvious killer almost from the start, and both revolve around the technicalities of a will and inheritance laws. The difference, of course, is that the murder in Unnatural Death only sped up the death by a few months, and in the end, things may have been better off if Wimsey had left things alone. Here, that’s reversed, with a nearly airtight case being presented against an innocent person.

Does Wimsey strike anyone else as being close to becoming unhinged in this book? At one point, he specifically mentions people shooting themselves in the head as a form of suicide and then mentions it in the context of ending his own life, then seems to almost realize he was taking the seemingly flippant comment seriously. At another time, his frustration with the case leads him to have an almost concerning thought about violently shattering a mirror. I can’t help but almost wonder if his believing he’s in love with Harriet (at this point, it strikes me more as deep admiration with some romantic inclinations, but not really "love” just yet) is his way of dealing with his problems before they lead to his coming unhinged. 

Comments

[maxineofarc.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure about the whole suicide thing. There's one Wimsey book in which the killer turns out to be some upper-class snob, so instead of turning him in, Wimsey leaves him alone with a gun or something so he can Do The Honorable Thing. It still strikes me as ooky.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Well, it was pretty much considered acceptable-and even honorable-to do that(typically after signing a confession or some such), rather than put your family through the humiliation of a trial.

However, recognizing something as acceptable social practice and applying it to your own life are two different things.

[melengro.livejournal.com]

That was Walter Penberthy in Bellona, who wasn't a snob so much as somebody who really just had stopped caring one way or another. There's an interesting variant in Murder Must Advertise as well, but I don't want to spoil anything.

[maxineofarc.livejournal.com]

Nope, that wasn't the one I was thinking of... gosh, maybe it's more of a theme than I thought! MMA is still my favorite, though it's mostly for the actual office/advertising scenes, which are a hoot.

[troisroyaumes]

Hm, I didn't particularly think that he was becoming unhinged in Strong Poison, but I've definitely had that sense in the other mysteries, so I'm inclined to agree with your intuition. Wimsey does strike me as someone who very delicately maintains his sanity; he's not very stable underneath.

I never really quite understood why Wimsey fell in love with Harriet (other than that she's awesome, which unfortunately doesn't really come through in Strong Poison all that much since she's off-page for most of it), but somehow Sayers convinces me that he is, even if I don't see the reason for it.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

It didn't strike me as a suicidal moment so much as a moment where he realized he wasn't as opposed to the idea as he wanted to be. I've thought from the first book that the detectiving was a way of maintaining his sanity.

In this book, I got more of a "smitten" feeling than anything else. He's wowed by her composure throughout, and her staunchly sticking to her beliefs, even if the form they take is extremely unconventional. If there were any indications of Harriet letting his falling for her under those conditions influence her here, I'd probably have problems with the idea of their eventually getting together, but her refusal lays the groundwork for the relationship to be grounded in other things.

[smillaraaq.livejournal.com]

And her refusal here really just goes to further establishing her common sense and maturity and self-respect, which all goes to prove in the end that his instincts were spot-on here. If she'd been the sort to say yes here, I don't think his infatuation would have lasted, let alone grown and deepened as it did. If you recall that bit in the Unnatural Death where Uncle Paul Delagardie is voicing his approval of her, the character she showed here is what first won over some of his relatives -- if she'd said yes under these circumstances, I think the Dowager Duchess and Uncle Paul would have been just as dubious of her as his snobbish sister-in-law, albeit for different reasons.

I don't know if I'd go so far as to say he felt like he was coming unhinged here to me -- he was getting frantic enough when things were going badly that it started to approach that territory, but didn't quite cross that line for me. But then again, it may just be that I'm used to thinking of him as unstable enough that I draw the line fairly high...

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

I don't think he really crossed the line, he just seemed closer to it than usual, and maybe a little more aware of it. But then, Harriet as a character and Peter's mental problems (and, as a natural extension, how those two things work together) as well as the various social actions and problems Sayers approaches are what were used as the main draws (or at least, what I noticed) to get me to read the series, so I'm probably focusing on those things more as I read.

I think that if Harriet had agreed to marry him, Peter's romantic interest would have dried up pretty quickly, though he would have still respected her and wanted to save her just as much. Not that I think there was a "hard to get" element on her side, but what made her say "no" it what made him propose in the first place. When he mentioned people shooting themselves in the head, then flippantly mentioned it as a way to end his own life, he seemed to pause and realize that he'd said that way too casually, and when he was thinking about shattering the mirror, his thoughts were extremely violent(and viewing it in the context of sharp shards flying everywhere) but devoid of any realization that he could be hurt by the glass, just the fact that the mirror could be replaced, and only calmed down when he realized that Harriet as a person couldn't be, and that he was the only one who could (or would) save her, and that chased most of the violence away. Which is why those two bits stood out to me.

[smillaraaq.livejournal.com]

Not that I think there was a "hard to get" element on her side, but what made her say "no" it what made him propose in the first place.

Yes. THIS. Exactly. If she'd been bright and witty and composed enough to catch his interest, but was the sort of woman who'd say yes just out of a sense of guilty gratitude and obligation, or the desire for some big strong smart man to come whisk her away from all her problems, she wouldn't have been the sort of woman he really, truly wants, and she wouldn't have had the sort of common sense and strength of mind that he deeply needs to help keep him grounded. It might have been a politely dutiful relationship, but I don't think it would have been particularly happy.

[fmanalyst.livejournal.com]

And that comes out even more strongly by the time Sayers gets to Busman's Honeymoon. You get inklings of his mental fragility throughout the books though.

I can't wait until Megan gets to Gaudy Night and Busman's Honeymoon.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Give me time. :)

Really,the first book ended with him having a nervous breakdown, IIRC, so I'd be surprised if hedidn't seem a little (or more) off when he was invested in a case that wasn't going well. (Actually, I forget the type of breakdown and am too lazy to check wiki or my post, but...)

[melengro.livejournal.com]

He hallucinated that he was back in the trenches. Bunter had to hug him to sleep.

[lady-ganesh.livejournal.com]

Mmm, yes.

[rachelmanija.livejournal.com]

Peter has PTSD and is also a bit... over-sensitive? mentally fragile? You see more of this in later books, especially Busman's Honeymoon. I do think his bond with Harriet is based on a very real (albeit one-sided, in this book) sense of them being kindred spirits.

The cover of my copy of Strong Poison depicts arsenic being poured into a raw egg! Way to give the game away!

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

With Harriet, there's a bit of a sense of his seeing someone for the first time who he sees as an equal in terms of intellect and values, though not in a way that undermines the other people in his life, if that makes sense. I think having him have a mental breakdown in the first book made me keep an eye out for other problems. I get the feeling that he looks for mysteries to keep himself stable sometimes.

That...is a very poorly thought out book cover. Though at least it makes sense. Mine has two people at a rickety table in front of a fireplace. I'd say it was meant to be Peter and Harriet, but the room they're in is clearly part of a well-to-do household...

(And since we can't see faces or even upper bodies, I'm not even sure the other person is male...)

[melengro.livejournal.com]

That's not the worst of it. (http://melengro.livejournal.com/133310.html)

[smillaraaq.livejournal.com]

...

There are so many things wrong with that picture, I wouldn't even know where to begin listing them. Wow. That's just an impressive amount of fail.

[smillaraaq.livejournal.com]

That makes total sense. He clearly cares deeply for most of his family, his friends, Bunter, but he doesn't always have a great deal in common with them, particularly in the area of his more intellectual passions. And while he's obviously had his share of prior love affairs, and has been in love before, he's never found that level of intellectual and spiritual kinship. I'm generally not that crazy about relationships being presented as "love at first sight", since really what that usually boils down to is more a sort of surface attraction, the infatuation or lust or intrigue is real enough but it doesn't have much to do with who the loved object really is. But here, it's clear that it's Harriet's strength of personality, her values and intellect and composure under pressure, that have caught his fancy, not just her looks -- not that Harriet is homely, but the stress of trial and imprisonment are surely not doing her appearance any favors, and compared to some of the glamorous singers and actresses Peter has dallied with, Harriet at her best is just average-looking.

I'd agree that there's an element of stability-seeking in Peter's detecting -- it keeps him busy and keeps his mind occupied with puzzles instead of turning in on itself. I don't think that's all there is to it, though -- there's a very strong hobbyist feeling about it to me as well, some of the appeal is simply the intellectual challenge of it all. He's got the slightly obsessive mindset of the hobbyist/collector type -- you see that in his passion for rare old books, for fine wines and vintage ports -- and a bit of a competitive streak, as seen in his cricket-playing days in particular. While he's got enough money that he could while away his days in luxurious idleness, I think he'd be bored stiff doing so -- he delights in challenges and using his wits, and even without the shellshock I think he'd be just restless and bored with nothing to do but drift through life, and the PTSD and mental/emotional fragility just add to the reasons why it's good for him to keep busy with such a consuming hobby. The downside, of course, is when as you've seen here or in Unnatural Death, and again in later books, he gets a little too close to the cases -- he agonizes when his interference leads to someone's death, even if it's a guilty murderer facing a societally-approved punishment; or here in Strong Poison, he's growing frantic at the thought that all his best efforts and brainpower might not be enough to save an innocent woman from being wrongfully condemned. But when you see him involved in mysteries that aren't such life-or-death matters -- like some of the short stories where he's catching thieves or working out the truth behind complicated practical jokes or figuring out a brain-teaser of a will -- in those settings, he really seems to be having an immense amount of fun. He likes the puzzle-solving, and I think sometimes gets so fixated on it that he starts to lose sight that the people involved are people rather than chess-pieces.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

I kind of think his interactions with Mary are a more obvious representation of how most of his relationships probably seem from his eyes. While there's the added "this is my sister...how could anyone be attracted to her or want to spend his life with her?" element, it's pretty clear that, while he adores her in his way, he can't think of anything to talk to her about that would take up more than 5 minutes. The only conversations he seems to have that scratch beneath the surface or take up any chunks of time are related to investigations, with the possible exception of trying to help Parker and Mary work out their romantic problems. OTOH, even though she didn't get to do much here, Harriet is pretty clearly someone he could talk to for hours. I'm not really sold on Peter really being in love with her at this point-more smitten-but the common ground a good relationship can be built on is pretty clearly there.

I think the marvelous Dowager described Harriet along the lines of being attractive, but not pretty or beautiful by the normal standards of society.

[melengro.livejournal.com]

Peter has shell-shock and comes to view himself as a murderer himself, worse than those he sends to the gallows since he only does it for his own amusement. Sayers apparently said that he really did put arsenic in Urquhart's gelatin treats (or, at least, may have), because he was lashing out at his own insecurities about what he does by doing something that even he knows is disgusting and underhanded. You see this more in Gaudy Night, where it is revealed that Peter actually thinks of himself as an evil person.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Peter definitely viewed himself as an amoral bastard with the arsenic (were we ever supposed to wonder if he really did that?) he just didn't really care. The reading I get is that he's a detective to keep himself sane, and not having the investigation go his way (especially since he let himself get emotionally invested) was making his problems that much more prominent. (Hence the two pages of his fantasizing about shattering a mirror into tiny pieces, then deciding it wouldn't matter because he could just get a new one, whereas Harriet being executed if he couldn't prove her innocence was an unfixable thing.)

ETA: BTW, while the series has been out for decades and there are certain things that are considered common knowledge, I am trying to stay fairly unspoiled.

[melengro.livejournal.com]

It was supposed to be unclear. He tells Parker he didn't really do it, but he's shown that he's not above lying to those he loves. Like Batman, a desire to do some good in the world is all that distinguishes Peter from Freke or Whitaker or Penberthy or Urquhart.

I'm trying not to spoil you! There is a lot of discussion of Peter's morality in Gaudy Night, though.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Uhm...yeah, I mostly read that as his not wanting Gunter to know. The scene with Urquhart read as he was so certain that there was no need to bluff.

[melengro.livejournal.com]

So we're back to Peter being like Batman in a way. I've used that comparison a lot because I feel it describes his moral universe perfectly.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Except that Peter interests me, and Batman kinda bores me(I've always found his sidekicks and girlfriends more interesting than Batman himself.) If we're going the comparison route, though, I'd say that Peter actually has a better way of dealing with his troubles. Batman removes himself from society and tries to operate outside it and away from ties, often treating his connections as tools, while Peter stays firmly planted in the midst of it, and builds a network of connections he values.

[havocthecat]

Ooh! Ooh! I watched the movie version of this when I was a kid.

[nutmeg3.livejournal.com]

It's been so many years since I read - and loved - these books that the subtle details escape me now. Apparently I must reread soon. However, as others have already said, you do see a lot of Peter's issues in Busman's Honeymoon, though it always seemed clear to me that he had PTSD and could only get so far past it.

[meganbmoore.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the PTSD is made pretty clear from the first book.