If Lord Peter Wimsey wasn’t already married (and fictional), I’d make a play for him myself – but, alas, Harriet Vane, the mystery writer and a murder suspect twice over, has his heart and always will. We’ll also forget about the fact that Lord Peter would be 108 at this point. In my vision of him, he is always youthful (though not young), dapper without being a dandy, erudite, articulate, graceful, gracious, fond of pointing out his own silliness, and wonderfully British. He appears to be effete while having a core of supple, tempered steel. I love him.
How could I go wrong? How can you? Linger through all the Lord Peter mysteries by Dorothy L. Sayers or concentrate on the novels detailing his continual yearning for Harriet Vane (with a tenderness and longing that doesn’t abate after the wedding). That series within a series starts with Strong Poison and moves on through Have His Carcase, Gaudy Night, Busman’s Honeymoon, Thrones, Dominations (put aside by Sayers and finished by Jill Paton Walsh after Sayers’ death) and A Presumption of Death (written completely by JPW). You can throw two short stories, The Haunted Policeman and Talboys, into the mix, as well. Gaudy Night is my favorite, the first one I read (years ago) and the novel in which – finally – the icy Miss Vane succumbs to her own strong feelings for Lord Peter.
Accepting rebuke, he relapsed into silence, while she studied his half-averted face. Considered generally, as facade it was by this time tolerably familiar to her, but now she saw details, magnified as it were by some glass in her own mind. The flat setting and fine scroll-work of the ear, and the heights of the skull above it. The glitter of the close-cropped hair where the neck-muscles lifted to meet the head. A minute sickle-shaped scar on the left temple. The faint laugher-lines at the corner of the eye and the droop of the lid at its outer end. The gleam of gold down on the cheekbone. The wide spring of the nostril. An almost imperceptible beading of sweat on the upper lip and a tiny muscle that twitched the sensitive corner of the mouth. The slight sun-reddening of the fair skin and its sudden whiteness below the base of the throat. The little hollow above the points of the collarbone.
He looked up: and she was instantly scarlet, as though she had been dipped in boiling water. Through the confusion of her darkened eyes and drumming ears some enormous bulk seemed to stoop over her. Then the mist cleared. His eyes were riveted upon the manuscript again, but he breathed as though he had been running.
This is heavy breathing at its best and most refined (in both senses of that word). Who needs ripped bodices? Who needs furtive groping in the hayloft? Who needs strong, silent types when I could have a man with elegant hands and eloquent phrases propose to me – in Latin?
If you want the full monty, listen to these as audio books read by Ian Carmichael (they are laugh out loud funny). And although Carmichael portrayed Lord Peter in a TV mini-series now available on DVD, skip that and go directly to Edward Petherbridge’s versions. Petherbridge channels Lord Peter in the same way that Jeremy Brett embodies Sherlock Holmes.
When I first came up with the title of this blog post, I thought only of the desire and devotion that are Lord Peter’s feelings towards Harriet Vane. Now I realize that phrase may also be describing my feelings towards Lord Peter. In either case, it calls to mind the last lines of another of Dorothy L Sayers’ works – her translation of The Divine Comedy.
My will and my desire were turned by love,
The love that moves the sun and other stars.
Copyright-free image of Oxford University from Wikimedia Commons
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Absolutely dead on. I love him too–so I guess it’s just as well that he is unavailable except in print.
After owning every Petherbridge and Carmichael movie of Sayers’ work and viewing each at least ten times, I obtained the major novels and found I enjoyed them equally, admiring their differences from the movies, especially “Gaudy Night”. “Gaudy” is quite remarkable for its depiction and revelation of the thought processes and values of educated women in the early twentieth century. The novel is far superior to the Petherbridge movie, despite Petherbridge & Walter’s superb acting, where so much was left out, presumably due to time and financial restrictions. The authentic attempts by the Warden & several of the female dons to help Harriet during her evolution and discovery of her real self after the numerous trials and misunderstandings of her earlier life with her lover and the harrow of the murder trial are most illuminating and helpful while she tries to understand Peter’s interest and motivations. It is such a wonderful illustration of the real complexities of the interactions and integration of two highly educated, differentiated persons. The risks are awesome and the rewards seem equally overwhelming to one’s sense of independent personal self!
I would have loved to live one or two years with Ms. Sayers as she (imaginatively) associated with Rex Stout! Imagine the discussions of such two remarkable thinkers and writers!
END 5-29-2010 J E MARTINELLI