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Volume 29, Number 2 (2005) reprinted by permission Legal Studies Forum CRIMES GONE BY
THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD *
The title of Edwin Drood advertises
the book as a "mystery" novel. It is unfortunate that Dickens died when
the book was only half completed, leaving no notes or sketches indicating
how the balance of the story would proceed or what the conclusion was to
be. In the century that has followed Dickens's death, literally hundreds
of scholars and commentators have lavished a good deal of time and ingenuity
in trying to establish, first of all, just where the "mystery" of Edwin
Drood was intended to lie, and then to propose solutions for the various
puzzles they found in the plot.
An ancient English Cathedral Tower? How can the ancient English Cathedral tower be here! The well known massive gray square tower of its old Cathedral? How can that be here! There is no spike of rusty iron in the air, between the eye and it, from any point of the real prospect. What is the spike that intervenes, and who has set it up? Maybe it is set up by the Sultan's orders for the impaling of a horde of Turkish robbers, one by one. It is so, for cymbals clash, and the Sultan goes by to his palace in long procession. Ten thousand scimitars flash in the sunlight, and thrice ten thousand dancing-girls strew flowers. Then follow white elephants caparisoned in countless gorgeous colours, and infinite in number and attendants. Still the Cathedral Tower rises in the background, where it cannot be, and still no writhing figure is on the grim spike. Stay! Is the spike so low a thing as the rusty spike on the top of a post of an old bedstead that has tumbled all awry? Some vague period of drowsy laughter must be devoted to the consideration of this possibility. Shaking from head to foot, the man whose scattered consciousness has thus fantastically pieced itself together, at length rises, supports his trembling frame upon his arms, and looks around.After the dreamer awakes (his identity not yet revealed), he hurries back to Cloisterham Cathedral in time for afternoon services. With Jasper's nightmare as prologue, the action begins. John Jasper thus is met in the very first pages of the book. The principal characters are introduced quickly and the plot develops at a forced march. Jasper's nephew, Edwin Drood, was in infancy betrothed by his parents to Rosa Bud. The two are fond of each other, but not in love. Jasper, who teaches Rosa music, is, on the other hand, passionately in love with her. His feelings for Edwin appear to be a mixture of love and of jealousy over Edwin's tie with Rosa. Jasper appears to plot against Edwin, first stirring up bad blood between him and Neville Landless, who, with his sister Helena, has come from Ceylon to reside in Cloisterham under the care of Canon Crisparkle. Jasper also begins to behave strangely, and among his most unusual actions is a nocturnal expedition he makes with the tombstone mason, Durdles, through the tower and crypt of the Cloisterham Cathedral. Shortly after this, Edwin (having in the meantime, unbeknownst to Jasper, broken off his engagement) disappears without a trace, except for certain jewelry later found by Canon Crisparkle in a weir on a river near Cloisterham. The balance of the Drood fragment includes an account of the persecution by Jasper of Neville Landless (who has also fallen in love with Rosa) for the "murder" of Drood; the arrival in Cloisterham of one Datchery, who is apparently a detective in disguise and maintains a watch over Jasper's actions; and the pursuit of Jasper by the Opium Woman, in whose den he dreamed the opium dream that served as the book's prologue and is to dream another dream, apparently describing a past act of violence. This far the fragment takes us and no farther. In the story most Drood critics have fastened upon the following "mysteries": Did John Jasper murder or attempt to murder Edwin Drood? Here there are subsidiary questions as to the place and manner of the crime and the eventual mode of detection. Was Edwin dead or did he escape? Who was Dick Datchery, the disguised detective? Who was the Opium Woman? As to the first question, almost all critics are in agreement that John Jasper either murdered or attempted to murder Edwin Drood. An exception is Felix Aylmer. It is Aylmer's theory (put forward in The Drood Case, published in 1965) that Jasper killed a man in Cloisterham -- though the victim was not Edwin Drood, but a Muslim enemy seeking to murder Drood to avenge an ancient family feud -- and that this killing occurred not on the Christmas Eve of Drood's disappearance but on the [1028] Christmas Eve of the year before. According to Aylmer, Jasper's famous
nocturnal visit to the cathedral was made not in preparation for Drood's
murder, but to attempt to reconstruct the earlier killing and to determine
whether it was intentional or accidental. However, Aylmer's attempt to
make a virtuous man out of Jasper runs into difficult obstacles, including
Jasper's brutal treatment of Rosa Bud; and he appears to have written a
new Edwin Drood, much inferior to Dickens's.
[1029] The list of those who say that Edwin is dead
is long and impressive. John Forster and Charles Dickens, Jr., have said
that Dickens told them so. Luke Fildes claimed that Dickens informed him
that Jasper was to strangle Edwin with Jasper's black scarf, which was
to appear in the illustrations; Dickens had also intended to take Fildes
to Maidstone Gaol to sketch the condemned cell, apparently as a basis for
a drawing of Jasper in prison.
My Lord, -- I am happy to be able to announce to your Lordship that we, following the tradition and practice of British Juries, have arranged our verdict in the luncheon interval. I should explain, my Lord, that it undoubtedly presented itself to us as a point of extraordinary difficulty in this case, that a man should disappear absolutely and completely, having cut off all communication with his friends in Cloisterham; but having seen and heard the society and conversation of Cloisterham here in Court to-day, we no longer feel the slightest surprise at that. Now, under the influence of that observation, my Lord, the more extreme characters, if they will allow me to say so, in this Jury, were at first inclined to find a verdict of Not Guilty, because there was no evidence of a murder having been committed; but on the other hand, the calmer and more judicious spirits among us felt that to allow a man who had committed a cold-blooded murder of which his own nephew was the victim, to leave the dock absolutely unpunished, was a proceeding which would probably lead to our all being murdered in our beds. And so you will be glad to learn that the spirit of compromise and moderation prevailed, and we find the prisoner guilty of Manslaughter. We recommend him most earnestly to your Lordship's mercy, whilst at the same time begging your Lordship to remember that the protection of the lives of the community is in your hands, and begging you not to allow any sentimental consideration to deter you from applying the law in its utmost vigour.Many efforts have been made to prove or disprove Edwin's death and to resolve the other principal mysteries of the fragment from clues left by Dickens in the book. Though these efforts are often ingenious, they fail to carry conviction. Mystery novels are not exercises in logic, but romances made to appear logical retrospectively. Dickens, like the great army of detective-story writers, good and bad, who have followed in his footsteps, scattered a great number of clues across his pages, some of which would prove to lead to the solution and others to lead nowhere. The essential arbitrariness of the mystery story has been brilliantly established in our own time by the interesting British crime novelist Anthony Berkeley. Having scored a great success with his short story about a poisoning, entitled "The Avenging Chance," he expanded it into a novel to which he gave the name The Poisoned Chocolates Case. In the novel, the facts of the crime are considered by a panel of six amateur detectives. Each detective, on the basis of an analogy to his own favorite historic poisoning case, reaches a different conclusion. The fifth comes to the conclusion Berkeley reached in the original short story. Then, as the final turn of the screw, the last detective arrives at the "correct" conclusion, one that is completely different from the short story's denouement. The range of plot devices, now familiar from detective fiction, that were available to Dickens in concluding his tale may be illustrated by the problem of the identity of the disguised detective, Datchery. This problem is often closely related to the problem of the fate of Edwin, for, as has been mentioned, some of the believers in his survival identify Datchery with Drood entering into a vengeful watch over his attempted murderer. Most critics, regardless of their views as to Edwin's fate, agree that Datchery is a member of the group centering around the Landlesses, Rosa and their lawyer friend, Hiram Grewgious, who are suspicious of Jasper's involvement in Edwin's disappearance. All members of this group may roughly be said to have had, in crime-fiction parlance, the "opportunity" to assume the role of Datchery. There are substantial problems of time and place for all of them, but none that might not have been cured by quick trips between London and Cloisterham, in the manner of the closely-worked-out timetable dear to the hearts of Freeman Wills Crofts and his Inspector French. If Dickens, in choosing a character for the so-called Datchery assumption, was using [1031] the now-familiar device of the "least likely person," he might, as Felix
Aylmer asserts he did, have chosen for this role Grewgious's apparently
insignificant clerk, Bazzard. On the other hand, Dickens's choice for Datchery
might have fallen, as Walters, Wilson and others contend, on Helena Landless,
if he was relying on the famous plot device whereby the apparently least
relevant fact becomes the most relevant. We are told early in the fragment
that Helena has a talent for male disguise, having as a child run away
from home dressed as a boy. But even here we are on dangerous ground, because
others have argued that Helena's flair for disguise would be shown by her
impersonation of the ghost of Edwin Drood in an attempt to frighten Jasper
into incriminating himself.
the originality . . . was to consist in the review of the murderer's career by himself at the close, when its temptations were to be dwelt upon as if, not he the culprit, but some other man, were the tempted. The last chapters were to be written in the condemned cell, to which his wickedness, all elaborately elicited from him as if told of another, had brought him.To this statement I would be audacious enough to add that the originality may have consisted also in showing the reader the genesis of a crime out of Jasper's opium-ridden psyche, and the motivation and preparation for the murder, while withholding for the end the details of its commission and its aftermath, and at the same time, confirmation for the reader's suspicion of Jasper's guilt. Dickens's daughter, Kate Perugini, accepted Forster's account and added insightful comments of her own: [1032] If those who are interested in the subject will carefully read what I have quoted, they will not be able to detect any word or hint from my father that it was upon the Mystery alone that he relied for the interest and originality of his idea. The originality was to be shown, as he tells us, in what we may call the psychological description the murderer gives us of his temptations, temperament, and character, as if told by another. . . . I do not mean to imply that the mystery itself had no strong hold on my father's imagination; but, greatly as he was interested in the intricacies of that tangled skein, the information he voluntarily gave to Mr. Forster, from whom he had withheld nothing for thirty-three years, certainly points to the fact that he was quite as deeply fascinated and absorbed in the study of the criminal Jasper, as in the dark and sinister crime that has given the book its title. . . . It was NOT, I imagine, for the intricate working out of his plot alone that my father cared to write this story; but it was through his wonderful observation of character, and his strange insight into the tragic secrets of the human heart, that he desired his greatest triumph to be achieved.It has been left for more modern critics to elaborate the psychological significance of Jasper's crime. For Edmund Wilson, Jasper represents, like Raskolnikov, the duality of man and his innate simultaneous capacity for good and evil. Jasper lives in the respectable milieu of Victorian society and at the same time is what today we might call a "drop out"; he is a dope addict and a brutal murderer. I am reminded in this connection of the murder trial in 1879 (nine years after Dickens's death) of Charley Peace, sometimes the respectable householder and, sometimes a highly competent burglar, and am prompted also to recall his eighteenth-century predecessor Deacon Brodie, who, as I have noted in another essay, served as the model for Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Edmund Wilson has also suggested certain surprising relationships between Jasper and Dickens himself. Dickens, the respectable Victorian, also lived the wilder life of imagination. He was so obsessed by murder that he continued to act out Bill Sikes's murder of Nancy at his public readings, despite the warnings of his tour manager, Dolby, that the passion he gave the piece was bad for his health. And further, Wilson suggests that Jasper's murder of a loved relative may have served subconsciously as an analogue to Dickens's sacrifice of his family duty to his love for Ellen Ternan. Edgar Johnson, Dickens's modern biographer, has also underscored the social significance of Jasper's crime. For him the book is not only a detective story or the analysis of a criminal personality, but also a bitter indictment of the rotting society of Cloisterham (which has been [1033] identified as Dickens's home town, Rochester). To Johnson, Cloisterham
stands as a symbol of Victorian society, against which Jasper's crime and
his whole life constituted a revolt. He points to the smugness and suffocating
closeness of Cloisterham; the imperialistic feeling of superiority displayed
by its good people, including Edwin, against foreigners (represented by
the Landlesses); and the insincerity of bombastic philanthropy embodied
in the unforgettable Mr. Honeythunder.
[1034] * This article was previously published in 10 (1) Armchair Detective 14-16, 82 (1977) and in Innocence and Arsenic, pp. 53-62. |
