alexactually's review against another edition
mysterious
fast-paced
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
anjana's review
3.0
The first stumbling block I had with this book were the names for the characters. I was super confused until almost halfway through. We have a Rachel and a Helen, a Jane and Jean and a Nicholas and a Nigel. I have always skimmed the names of any book and just use the feeling each character the rest of the time to focus my attention. In this case, it was exceedingly hard to do that, and this put a damper on the speed of my reading because I had to keep going back to the introductory chapter and see everyone's entry again. Then there was the Latin. Usually, most books of an older time provide explanations as soon as obscure phrases are used, but in this case, there were none. The cast were mostly well-read men, and this added an extra hurdle. This is where my complaints end, though. I move on to the story itself.
There is a new drama being presented, and all the leading players are making their way to Oxford. We are given detailed descriptions to all their nitpicking and background information of the jealousies and all the other petty (and some not so petty) grievances. The worst character introduced to us is shown as a horrible person in no uncertain terms. It takes a while for her to meet her end, but once she does, events quickly progress. It was an intriguing plotline, and I did not guess the ending and liked the writing. The wry tone and the subtle jabs at people were quite entertaining. As were the different and intense personal dynamics which are handled quite directly. I will be reading more books by the author but will probably be mixing up a few other recommendations set in this time period in between since at least have one already in the queue.
There is a new drama being presented, and all the leading players are making their way to Oxford. We are given detailed descriptions to all their nitpicking and background information of the jealousies and all the other petty (and some not so petty) grievances. The worst character introduced to us is shown as a horrible person in no uncertain terms. It takes a while for her to meet her end, but once she does, events quickly progress. It was an intriguing plotline, and I did not guess the ending and liked the writing. The wry tone and the subtle jabs at people were quite entertaining. As were the different and intense personal dynamics which are handled quite directly. I will be reading more books by the author but will probably be mixing up a few other recommendations set in this time period in between since at least have one already in the queue.
manolitagafotas's review against another edition
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
3.0
sarahsponda's review against another edition
3.0
Not my favorite Fen adventure but I'm glad I read it.
krikketgirl's review against another edition
2.0
Some really great passages, but Fen was uneven and more frustrating than in later books.
christinecc's review
3.0
This started very strong! An evocative chapter that perfectly describes the discomfort of traveling by train and everyone's mounting frustration at the train's ability to just pull into the station already! Everyone's luggage is ready and taking up the room! So the author clearly knows how to establish a fun, comedic tone tinged with anticipation. We meet seven characters (which is a bit of an info dump and I needed to go back a few times to memorize the various relationships) off the bat. Then the chapter closes with the announcement that three of these people will die violently by the end of the novel.
Fun!
It's not a bad book, but the characters never get the development that would move the book from a good three-star read to a very good four-star. The mystery is also fairly basic, not poorly planned or predictable, but the culprit is fairly easy to spot even if the method is difficult to untangle. This is also one of those mystery books with a detached detective in the form of Oxford professor Gervase Fen. We get a bit more substance from him when he realizes he may have made a mistake near the end and some terrible consequences ensue, but for the most part he doesn't offer a lot in terms of depth.
Recommended if you want an amusing, well-written detective story. I'll probably pick up the author's more famous sequel, "The Moving Toyshop," but I'll temper my expectations.
Fun!
It's not a bad book, but the characters never get the development that would move the book from a good three-star read to a very good four-star. The mystery is also fairly basic, not poorly planned or predictable, but the culprit is fairly easy to spot even if the method is difficult to untangle. This is also one of those mystery books with a detached detective in the form of Oxford professor Gervase Fen. We get a bit more substance from him when he realizes he may have made a mistake near the end and some terrible consequences ensue, but for the most part he doesn't offer a lot in terms of depth.
Recommended if you want an amusing, well-written detective story. I'll probably pick up the author's more famous sequel, "The Moving Toyshop," but I'll temper my expectations.
smcleish's review
4.0
Originally published on my blog here in June 2001.
One of Crispin's best Gervase Fen novels, The Case of the Gilded Fly is about murder in a repertory company in Oxford. Nowadays, the decline in theatregoing has killed off the provincial rep scene which used to be so important to the theatre community, and most British theatres outside London play home to sequences of touring productions of lightweight pieces sold to the public by a star name, usually a TV actor, rather than being the home of their own company.
One of the actors in the company, Yseut Haskell, is an unpleasant woman who not only believes herself more talented than she really is but enjoys such pastimes as taking other women's boyfriends. When she dies in a poorly faked suicide, not only are there many candidates for the murderer, but an amateur detective like Fen feels almost that the killer ought to be given a chance to escape.
The novel is full of the ironic touches which are Crispin's trademark; Fen referring to himself as "the only literary critic turned detective in fiction" is a typical example. The author also expends some effort in making Fen seem eccentric to the point of disagreeableness; he is not one of the cosier detectives in fiction.
Though not as inventive as [b:The Moving Toyshop|831916|The Moving Toyshop (Gervase Fen, #3)|Edmund Crispin|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1178748767s/831916.jpg|3346508], the Oxford setting seems to have inspired Crispin here too. The puzzle is quite easy, but that doesn't stop the novel being entertaining. The title is partly a reference to a strange ring placed on Yseut's finger after her death, but also to [b:King Lear|12938|King Lear|William Shakespeare|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1331563731s/12938.jpg|2342136] (as the ring is meant to point out), which makes it a reference to Yseut's immorality.
One of Crispin's best Gervase Fen novels, The Case of the Gilded Fly is about murder in a repertory company in Oxford. Nowadays, the decline in theatregoing has killed off the provincial rep scene which used to be so important to the theatre community, and most British theatres outside London play home to sequences of touring productions of lightweight pieces sold to the public by a star name, usually a TV actor, rather than being the home of their own company.
One of the actors in the company, Yseut Haskell, is an unpleasant woman who not only believes herself more talented than she really is but enjoys such pastimes as taking other women's boyfriends. When she dies in a poorly faked suicide, not only are there many candidates for the murderer, but an amateur detective like Fen feels almost that the killer ought to be given a chance to escape.
The novel is full of the ironic touches which are Crispin's trademark; Fen referring to himself as "the only literary critic turned detective in fiction" is a typical example. The author also expends some effort in making Fen seem eccentric to the point of disagreeableness; he is not one of the cosier detectives in fiction.
Though not as inventive as [b:The Moving Toyshop|831916|The Moving Toyshop (Gervase Fen, #3)|Edmund Crispin|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1178748767s/831916.jpg|3346508], the Oxford setting seems to have inspired Crispin here too. The puzzle is quite easy, but that doesn't stop the novel being entertaining. The title is partly a reference to a strange ring placed on Yseut's finger after her death, but also to [b:King Lear|12938|King Lear|William Shakespeare|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1331563731s/12938.jpg|2342136] (as the ring is meant to point out), which makes it a reference to Yseut's immorality.
balancinghistorybooks's review
4.0
The Guardian praise Edmund Crispin's series of crime novels as 'a ludicrous literary farce', and The Times call the author 'one of the last exponents of the classical English detective story... elegant, literate, and funny.' In this, the first novel in the series, a 'pretty but spiteful young actress' named Yseut Haskell, who has a 'talent for destroying men's lives', is discovered dead in a University room 'just metres from unconventional Oxford don Gervase Fen's office.' In rather an amusing aside, the blurb says: 'Anyone who knew her would have shot her, but can Fen discover who could have shot her?'
The Case of the Gilded Fly begins in early 1940, in a typically British manner: 'To the unwary traveller, Didcot signifies the imminence of his arrival at Oxford; to the more experienced, another half-hour at least of frustration.' On such a railway journey is where we first meet English Language and Literature Professor Fen - 'And as his only distraction was one of his own books, on the minor satirists of the eighteenth century, which he was conscientiously re-reading in order to recall what were his opinions of these persons, he became in the later stages of the journey quite profoundly unhappy' - as well as the other protagonists. This cast of characters is rather a diverse one. After brief sketches of their personalities and professions, Crispin discusses them for the first time as a group: 'By Thursday, 11 October, they were all in Oxford. And within the week that followed three of those eleven died by violence.'
Crispin controls his writing and characters wonderfully. The opening description of Yseut gives her character a complexity, and sets the reader - like her acquaintances - against her rather quickly. Crispin writes: 'To a considerable extent we are all of necessity preoccupied with ourselves, but with her the preoccupation was exclusive, and largely of a sexual nature into the bargain. She was still young - twenty-five or so - with full breasts and hips a little crudely emphasized by the clothes she wore, and a head of magnificent and much cared-for red hair. There, however - at least as far as the majority of people were concerned - her claims to attractiveness ended. Her features, pretty enough in a conventional way, bore little hints of the character within - a trifle of selfishness, a trifle of conceit; her conversation was intellectually pretentious and empty; her attitude to the other sex was too outspokenly come-hither to please more than a very few of them, and her attitude to her own malicious and spiteful.'
The Case of the Gilded Fly is both intelligently written and highly immersive. Whilst not my favourite in the Gervase Fen series - that accolade has to be given to the magnificent The Moving Toyshop - The Case of the Gilded Fly, whilst stylistically different in some ways, serves as a marvellous introduction to the series. Crispin sets it up so that everyone has a grievance against Yseut, and the reader is consequently left guessing who could have perpetrated the crime, when all have a motive.
The sense of place here has been well captured, too, as well as the early Second World War time period in which it is set. Crispin notes that the college admissions at Oxford University have been greatly affected, with many students going off to fight. The blackout conditions are also in place when Yseut is murdered, which does not help matters; her death is first ruled as a suicide, until Fen and an Inspector from the local police force probe more deeply and discover several clues. The novel does not throw up as many red herrings as I had come to expect from the later books in the series; it is more of a measured and meditative novel. I did correctly guess one of the elements, but found it incredibly well pieced together nonetheless.
The Case of the Gilded Fly begins in early 1940, in a typically British manner: 'To the unwary traveller, Didcot signifies the imminence of his arrival at Oxford; to the more experienced, another half-hour at least of frustration.' On such a railway journey is where we first meet English Language and Literature Professor Fen - 'And as his only distraction was one of his own books, on the minor satirists of the eighteenth century, which he was conscientiously re-reading in order to recall what were his opinions of these persons, he became in the later stages of the journey quite profoundly unhappy' - as well as the other protagonists. This cast of characters is rather a diverse one. After brief sketches of their personalities and professions, Crispin discusses them for the first time as a group: 'By Thursday, 11 October, they were all in Oxford. And within the week that followed three of those eleven died by violence.'
Crispin controls his writing and characters wonderfully. The opening description of Yseut gives her character a complexity, and sets the reader - like her acquaintances - against her rather quickly. Crispin writes: 'To a considerable extent we are all of necessity preoccupied with ourselves, but with her the preoccupation was exclusive, and largely of a sexual nature into the bargain. She was still young - twenty-five or so - with full breasts and hips a little crudely emphasized by the clothes she wore, and a head of magnificent and much cared-for red hair. There, however - at least as far as the majority of people were concerned - her claims to attractiveness ended. Her features, pretty enough in a conventional way, bore little hints of the character within - a trifle of selfishness, a trifle of conceit; her conversation was intellectually pretentious and empty; her attitude to the other sex was too outspokenly come-hither to please more than a very few of them, and her attitude to her own malicious and spiteful.'
The Case of the Gilded Fly is both intelligently written and highly immersive. Whilst not my favourite in the Gervase Fen series - that accolade has to be given to the magnificent The Moving Toyshop - The Case of the Gilded Fly, whilst stylistically different in some ways, serves as a marvellous introduction to the series. Crispin sets it up so that everyone has a grievance against Yseut, and the reader is consequently left guessing who could have perpetrated the crime, when all have a motive.
The sense of place here has been well captured, too, as well as the early Second World War time period in which it is set. Crispin notes that the college admissions at Oxford University have been greatly affected, with many students going off to fight. The blackout conditions are also in place when Yseut is murdered, which does not help matters; her death is first ruled as a suicide, until Fen and an Inspector from the local police force probe more deeply and discover several clues. The novel does not throw up as many red herrings as I had come to expect from the later books in the series; it is more of a measured and meditative novel. I did correctly guess one of the elements, but found it incredibly well pieced together nonetheless.