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

[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.