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Read while camping the first in Margery Allingham's Albert Campion novels, The Black Dudley Murder, which in the UK was published as The Crime at the Black Dudley. The UK title is actually more interesting once one finishes the novel because

There is a criminal gang, who are definitely up to no good, and at least one member of the gang commits medical fraud; and during the course of the book, the gang commits various acts of nastiness like taking people hostage, assault, etc. So I guess they do commit crimes, but not the big CRIME one comes to a murder novel for.

Because it becomes clear that none of the gang actually committed the murder about 2/3rds of the way through. And so then the reader (and the protagonist and the "society" toffs) have to face the fact that one of them committed the murder. But the man murdered was himself a criminal, who had created some semi-mind control/psychological manipulation of young women turning them into "fallen women". So, was that actually a crime to kill him (was what I believe the author was interrogating at the end)?

Thus the UK title is quite subtle, and interesting. Whereas the American title is, as Americans are wont to be, a straight shooter (ahem).

Interesting thing about this one, it was not told from Albert Campion's POV, but someone else. I enjoyed his character though, everyone thinks him a fool at first, but he uses that to his advantage multiple times; and eventually the more perceptive of the various characters realize he's got a lot more going on upstairs than he appears. I've got another 3-4 of the Campion books on my shelf, so glad the book wasn't a total turnoff.

Also fun easter egg, I recently read (and just this past Wednesday posted) the first mystery novel by Allingham, The White Cottage. And while the Campion novels start with Black Dudley, the previous novel is connected in that the Scotland Yard detective referred to in both novels is Inspector Deadwood. So entertainingly, these are actually part of the same "Allingham-verse", albeit only Black Dudley is a "Campion" novel.
 

One thing I like about those books from the 60s and 70s is that they are less than 200 pages typically. It makes a quick read. A great option if you want to read a book quickly
Same. I'm a fast reader, but these days I find a 500-page book daunting, and that after a certain point, they really need to work hard to justify that page count.

You might be surprised just how common that attitude is. Or you might not.

This is one of the major reasons I despise the pretension of academia and so-called critics of literature, film, art, etc. It always comes from a place of snobby elitism and a need to look down one's nose at others rather than an actual love of books and literature. Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin wrote out-and-out smut, yet they're considered literary darlings by most. Such a weird double standard.
I watched the Super/Man documentary over the weekend (would recommend it highly, but to say it packs an emotional punch is an understatement). Anyway, one of the things that struck me is that when the 1978 Superman was made, plenty of people in Christopher Reeve's life were against him doing it. They said it was just kids' stuff. Yet today, there are tons of dissertations and scholarly articles on Superman. People are increasingly understanding that comics, fantasy, sci-fi, horror, these are genres that have something to say, are worthy of analysis.

Unfortunately, there are still plenty of critics that draw a line between "literature" and genre work. Which frequently is an imaginary line, anyway. Beowulf on one side and Lord of the Rings on the other isn't really a defensible position.
 


Read while camping the first in Margery Allingham's Albert Campion novels, The Black Dudley Murder, which in the UK was published as The Crime at the Black Dudley. The UK title is actually more interesting once one finishes the novel because

There is a criminal gang, who are definitely up to no good, and at least one member of the gang commits medical fraud; and during the course of the book, the gang commits various acts of nastiness like taking people hostage, assault, etc. So I guess they do commit crimes, but not the big CRIME one comes to a murder novel for.

Because it becomes clear that none of the gang actually committed the murder about 2/3rds of the way through. And so then the reader (and the protagonist and the "society" toffs) have to face the fact that one of them committed the murder. But the man murdered was himself a criminal, who had created some semi-mind control/psychological manipulation of young women turning them into "fallen women". So, was that actually a crime to kill him (was what I believe the author was interrogating at the end)?

Thus the UK title is quite subtle, and interesting. Whereas the American title is, as Americans are wont to be, a straight shooter (ahem).

Interesting thing about this one, it was not told from Albert Campion's POV, but someone else. I enjoyed his character though, everyone thinks him a fool at first, but he uses that to his advantage multiple times; and eventually the more perceptive of the various characters realize he's got a lot more going on upstairs than he appears. I've got another 3-4 of the Campion books on my shelf, so glad the book wasn't a total turnoff.

Also fun easter egg, I recently read (and just this past Wednesday posted) the first mystery novel by Allingham, The White Cottage. And while the Campion novels start with Black Dudley, the previous novel is connected in that the Scotland Yard detective referred to in both novels is Inspector Deadwood. So entertainingly, these are actually part of the same "Allingham-verse", albeit only Black Dudley is a "Campion" novel.
Campion is pretty usual in that he straddles the line between the Murder Mystery and Pulp Action Hero genres.
 

Unfortunately, there are still plenty of critics that draw a line between "literature" and genre work. Which frequently is an imaginary line, anyway. Beowulf on one side and Lord of the Rings on the other isn't really a defensible position.
That said, a large portion of genre fiction is the equivalent of airport or beach reads, with the authors only seeking to entertain. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell or the Bright Sword are definitely literature. Most of the 100+ Dragonlance novels definitely are not, though.
 


Just finished Death of the Author by Nnedi Okarofor. It’s engaging and interesting nested sci-fi which has a lot to say about growing up Nigerian-American, being disabled, being a famous writer, and family bonds and pressures. The protagonist is impulsive, selfish, and really quite annoying, but I think she’s meant to be and almost every other character is quite clear about it.

It’s two books in one - the story of Zelu (a paraplegic writer who hits rock bottom and writes a very successful novel, and what effects that has on her life) and Rusted Robots (the novel she writes) - and I don’t think either would have stood up properly by itself, and so the way they’re intertwined is both essential and elegant.
 

That said, a large portion of genre fiction is the equivalent of airport or beach reads, with the authors only seeking to entertain. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell or the Bright Sword are definitely literature. Most of the 100+ Dragonlance novels definitely are not, though.
It's a helpful distinction to make in that it is a quick signal for what I'll enjoy and what I'll hate. I'll take genre fiction as entertaining beach read over boring-ass "literature" all day every day.
 

That said, a large portion of genre fiction is the equivalent of airport or beach reads, with the authors only seeking to entertain. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell or the Bright Sword are definitely literature. Most of the 100+ Dragonlance novels definitely are not, though.
Honestly, quite a few literary fiction novels are also short, light, or otherwise suitable for beach reading. The only definition of literary fiction seems to be that it can’t be pigeonholed into another genre (mystery, thriller, romance, fantasy etc).

Most established* writers of literary fiction (Allende, Atwood, Chabon, Ishiguro, Rushdie, etc.) are sufficiently mature and secure to not really care if their work gets shoved into genre even if it’s of significant literary merit. But of course, because they’re famous, said books often aren’t shelved as such even though they clearly fit into those genres.

*Of course, when they’re less established, they do get upset about this because it loses them sales or review kudos, as Atwood famously was about The Handmaid’s Tale.

The only point of genres mostly is to make books easier to find in larger bookshops, or group books in a “other people who liked this book also liked that book” sort of way. Oh, and for publishers to group in convenient niches, especially if they’re speciality publishers. But at our end as the reader, I do think genres are fairly irrelevant and silos help nobody.
 

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