One of my favourite things is when authors push the boundaries of the genre they’re supposed to be writing in. This week we have two great examples of how much that can pay off. First up is Sara Gran with Little Mysteries. The American author has written across literary, horror, historical and erotic genres with huge amounts of skill and daring, but she is best known for her subversive and unique crime fiction. Her Claire DeWitt mystery novels are weird and wonderful existential marvels, as much concerned with the mystery of life as they are in solving crimes.
And following in their footsteps is this hugely entertaining deconstructed and metafictional set of nine short stories that somehow manage to be deeply profound and beautifully playful at the same time.
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The book is subtitled Nine Miniature Puzzles to Confuse, Enthrall and Delight, which is the reader’s first indication of the semi-satirical vibe. The stories themselves are diverse and fascinating, but two main threads run through them. Some stories are based around teenage detective Cynthia Silverton, a thinly veiled examination of the Nancy Drew mysteries, which usually start off with the surface sheen of a conventional crime story before slowly morphing into something much more interesting. DeWitt also makes an appearance in a number of the stories here, her world-weary spiritual presence absolutely lighting up the page.
Among the many highlights here, I particularly loved The Good Smell of New York City/The Ocean Salted Air which uses formal invention to pack an emotional punch. Two stories simultaneously run down separate columns of the page, both written in the second person and set 12 years apart, putting the reader in the shoes of DeWitt at very different times in her life. The juxtaposition throws deep perspective at the reader, leaving them sideswiped.
The other standout story for me was Cynthia Silverton and the Charnel House Grounds, which starts off as a relatively conventional mystery, then slowly embarks on a long, dark night of the soul for the teen detective about the nature of self and even existence. Agatha Christie, this ain’t.
