Alas, I did not enjoy this mystery. The pacing was awkward, the locale aggressively gothic, the romance element flat and stilted, and the setup for the crime absurdly over-the-top, with a level of emotional maturity and depth similar to what you'd find in a Scooby-Doo cartoon.If you want to read The Crime at Black Dudley, please do so. Brace yourself for a story that feels remarkably like a transcription of the movie "Clue". Members of a random house party wander around a large isolated mansion with the lights out and a dagger being passed around. Murder! Later, a strange hostage situation develops where nobody can escape and people move around in pairs searching the house, looking for the bad guys. Where is Tim Curry? Where's the singing telegram? Sheesh.Allingham occasionally falls prey to intensely Purple Prose. One short example: "You can call it absurd with your modern platonic-suitability complexes," he said, "but I fell in love with a woman as nine-tenths of men have done since the race began and will continue to do until all resemblance of the original animal is civilized out of us and the race ends--with her face, and with her carriage, and with her body." I mean, come on. Allingham has a male character identify a woman's fingernails as "hideously over-manicured". What does that even mean? How is it a sinister impediment to matrimony? Worried about my own nails now.Published in 1929, this was written in the space between the world wars, shortly after Dorothy L. Sayers began publishing. Their work follows similar lines, but their upbringing and education differed widely, and it shows in the resulting tone of their writing. The real core of my dislike for this book is Albert Campion, who mimics my beloved Lord Peter Wimsey in many ways but inevitably falls short. They are both amateur detectives born into the British aristocracy, both talk piffle, both employ menservants and both bachelors who later marry. Why is Peter better than Albert? Sayers once commented that Lord Peter was a mixture of Fred Astaire and Bertie Wooster. Albert seems to be more a combination of Adam Sandler and a Great Dane. Peter has the superior manservant; Lugg is all well and good, but can't really be compared with Bunter. Peter speaks and acts like a real gentleman, bringing patience, genteel condescension and gallant civility to his associations with colleagues, ladies and the lower classes. Above all, Peter has good manners; he is courteous and affable. Albert is unrefined, pompous, vacuous, lacking in tact and suavity. Even if Albert's foolish manner is supposed to be just a clever "front" for his underlying good breeding, it is too convincing a mask and too rarely removed to be allowed to be a costume of necessity. Albert's rudeness and general ass-hattery is a full-time facade, overwhelming his nobility.
"Happy Birthday, Albert Campion!" For those of you who enjoy those Golden Age of English mysteries of the likes of Sayers, Christie, and Chesterton, Margery Allingham, widely regarded as one of the three queens of British Golden Age detective fiction, is worth adding to your reading. In "The Crime of Black Dudley," Allingham gives birth to one of those early detectives: Albert Campion. Although "Black Dudley" is marketed today as the first of the Campion mysteries, in this novel, Campion was simply a dinner guest, not even the protagonist of the book; he was simply one of many "invited" (or was he?) to a dinner party at Black Dudley. Still, within the pages of this book is born an unusual, yet interesting character, who Allingham evolved into that very peculiar, bespectacled, quipping "gentleman" sleuth of many novels to come, Campion, who can be compared to Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey (especially in some of the early novels).In "The Crime of Black Dudley," as the book jacket tells us, there is "a house-party with a glittering guest-list. An imposing country estate with endless shadowy staircases and unused rooms. [It is] ... the breathless period between the two world wars. It's the ideal setting for the classic English murder mystery ..." within the walls of this former abbey, now one of those ancient country manors, which dot the English countryside. And, of course, there is an unusual murder during the party, and an even more unusual "cover up" as strange events quickly occur. If you enjoy this era of English mystery, then try this one on for size. I personally enjoy the character of Campion and his even more unusual "butler," Magersfontein Lugg. The foiling of Campion and Lugg's characters as well as the antics of Lugg, Campion's manservant, will often delight the reader. Most of the series are probably "3 or 4 stars," however, they are well worth the time for the enjoyment they will give.
Do You like book The Crime At Black Dudley (1973)?
2 1/2 starsEven though this was the first book in the Albert Campion series, he only played a very minor role. Yet that was enough of an introduction to convince me that I do not want to meet him again. Campion's total sangfroid in the presence of extreme peril, and his constant snappy one-liners at the most inappropriate of times, really started to grate on my nerves. I considered him to be completely over-the-top, and he quickly became mostly just a tiresome buffoon. His few moments of lucidity were certainly not enough to save the character for me. Had he been the primary character, I am not sure that I would have finished reading the book. I guess I have come very late to the realization that several (if not most) of the detective stories written in the 1920s & 1930s were all pretty similar in style and tone. This "too-cool-for-school" attitude is not to my liking.Addendum added 03-16-2015:I forgot to mention my pet peeve. Two of the characters in this book were named Wyatt Petrie and Martin Watt. They were usually referred to as Wyatt and Watt. There were enough characters in this book to keep straight - I did not need this extra impediment. WHY DO AUTHORS DO THIS?!? Are they testing us to see if we are paying close attention? Or are they just messing with us?
—Mo
I received this from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. I have not read any of the Campion books before and was interested to find (from Wikipedia) that Allingham originally intended Dr. George Abbershaw, a pathologist who was occasionally called in by Scotland Yard as a consultant, to be the hero of this book and any future mysteries. However, Campion’s character seemed to be more memorable, and the publishers encouraged her to use him as her focus.The story was layered. A house party meets in the remote manor house of Black Dudley, owned by young Wyatt Petrie. His uncle by marriage, Colonel Coombe, was a sickly recluse who encouraged Wyatt to have young friends down to liven up the atmosphere. At this particular party, the guests were varied, and some were downright shady.Of course, there was a story about the family dagger, including a ritual involving the dagger being passed around from hand to hand in the dark. The guests thought this would be great fun, so they dispersed into darkened corridors, the servants were dismissed, and the ritual began.As expected, nothing good comes from this, and the Colonel has taken to his bed. He is later pronounced dead from a heart attack. Dr. Whitby is uncomfortable signing the death certificate to allow for a rapid cremation. Dr. Abbershaw does sign, but is able to get a glance at the body and realizes that the Colonel has been murdered.The imposing, stone-faced guest named Benjamin Dawlish, takes the other guests captive, aided by Gideon, who is also an associate of the deceased Colonel. It seems Dawlish had come with the express intention of picking up something valuable, and he was not allowing anyone to leave until he retrieved the missing item.The story unfolds as the cast of characters try to figure out who Dawlish is, what he wants, and who murdered the Colonel.I believe the original publication date was 1929, but it was a refreshing read and had an appropriate number of twists, turns, and quirky characters. I will read more in this series!
—Jann Barber
The Crime at Black Dudley is supposed to be a classic of detective fiction. It introduces Allingham’s detective Albert Campion. However, Campion plays no part in the solution of the murder mystery. Rather, he, his facetious banter and daring-do are relegated to a fantastic and ludicrous secondary plot that takes up most of the book and features master criminals who threaten all and sundry. As for the murder, the killer is obvious from the beginning though the actual motive is revealed at the very end and is psychologically absurd.
—Lee Holz
