Mistress of Crime Fiction, PD James, dies at 94
NEWS: Marking the end of an era with her death, PD James has left behind 21 mysteries and a great legacy.
Mistress of Crime Fiction, PD James, dies at 94
Baroness P.D. James has died at the age of 94; an event which ends an era of detective fiction. She was one of the greatest British crimewriters of our time, leaving behind 21 novels as her legacy from 1962’s Cover Her Face to 2011’s Pride and Prejudice sequel Death Comes To Pemberly.
Born in 1920, PD James developed a taste for mystery at an early age “When I heard, Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, I thought, Did he fall or was he pushed?”. When her husband returned from World War II suffering from mental illness, he was sent into a psychiatric institution and, aged 42, she began to write.
The writer remarked of her great heroine, Jane Austen, that “she creates a world in which I feel at home”. The same can be said for James herself. Her meticulous characterisation, aversion to cliche and precise study of English society distinguished her from her peers and predecessors; her mysteries took place in an uncannily recognisable England. She preferred to set each novel at the time of writing, remarking in an interview: "I like to address the problems of modern life". Her books were realistic, in order that they might "represent some kind of picture of what England was like at this time."
However, James' commitment to realism goes beyond pinpointing contemporary mores; her fascination with the realities of human nature sets her apart from other crime writers. Her detective is a good example of this. Where Poirot and Holmes are fantastical eccentrics with inhuman intelligence, her detective Adam Dagliesh is utterly believable. Brilliantly clever though he is, Dagliesh is an everyman, with whom we can keep up. In the place of a hardheaded mastermind, we are presented with measured detective, who writes poetry in his spare time. PD James once remarked: "Agatha Christie must have regretted this funny little Belgian with his waxed mustaches. But she was stuck with him... So I thought I would create someone who has the qualities I respect—generosity, compassion, intelligence."
Typically, crime-writing is typified by mathematical plotting, culminating in a big reveal. Gratifying though this is, James was more concerned with the nature of murder itself. Her stories were not Whodunnits, did not concern themselves with grudge-bearing butlers. Rather, in her own words, communicated “how contaminating murder can be and how no life in that society is untouched by it”.
PD James’ was a realist, creating universes with jagged edges, in which human evil was incredibly complex. Yet, with all the messiness of the human psyche, the writer singled out one force that drives humanity over any other. In her 2003 novel Murder Room, Dagliesh’s sergeant remarks:
“You can sum up motive with the letter L: Love, Lust, Loathing and Lucre” and people will tell you that the most dangerous is loathing. But it isn’t boy. The most dangerous is love.
Born in 1920, PD James developed a taste for mystery at an early age “When I heard, Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, I thought, Did he fall or was he pushed?”. When her husband returned from World War II suffering from mental illness, he was sent into a psychiatric institution and, aged 42, she began to write.
The writer remarked of her great heroine, Jane Austen, that “she creates a world in which I feel at home”. The same can be said for James herself. Her meticulous characterisation, aversion to cliche and precise study of English society distinguished her from her peers and predecessors; her mysteries took place in an uncannily recognisable England. She preferred to set each novel at the time of writing, remarking in an interview: "I like to address the problems of modern life". Her books were realistic, in order that they might "represent some kind of picture of what England was like at this time."
However, James' commitment to realism goes beyond pinpointing contemporary mores; her fascination with the realities of human nature sets her apart from other crime writers. Her detective is a good example of this. Where Poirot and Holmes are fantastical eccentrics with inhuman intelligence, her detective Adam Dagliesh is utterly believable. Brilliantly clever though he is, Dagliesh is an everyman, with whom we can keep up. In the place of a hardheaded mastermind, we are presented with measured detective, who writes poetry in his spare time. PD James once remarked: "Agatha Christie must have regretted this funny little Belgian with his waxed mustaches. But she was stuck with him... So I thought I would create someone who has the qualities I respect—generosity, compassion, intelligence."
Typically, crime-writing is typified by mathematical plotting, culminating in a big reveal. Gratifying though this is, James was more concerned with the nature of murder itself. Her stories were not Whodunnits, did not concern themselves with grudge-bearing butlers. Rather, in her own words, communicated “how contaminating murder can be and how no life in that society is untouched by it”.
PD James’ was a realist, creating universes with jagged edges, in which human evil was incredibly complex. Yet, with all the messiness of the human psyche, the writer singled out one force that drives humanity over any other. In her 2003 novel Murder Room, Dagliesh’s sergeant remarks:
“You can sum up motive with the letter L: Love, Lust, Loathing and Lucre” and people will tell you that the most dangerous is loathing. But it isn’t boy. The most dangerous is love.
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