Why we all should be reading more crime fiction

Dust jacket of the Hidden Window Mystery - a Nancy Drew novel. (Image via Wikimedia Commons)

The Germans have a word for it: Zeitenwende. Literally speaking, it refers to a turning point, and is used in the context of a significant shift from one era or state of affairs to another. Seems apt for our time, given the sorry condition of the world. With the current turmoil and upheaval, it’s hard to focus on reading, let alone anything else.

When it comes to picking up a book, however, crime fiction is the perfect antidote. The popular reason is that it’s a form of escapism – a viewpoint echoed by detractors as well. A good mystery or thriller offers a welcome diversion, keeping us hooked on the twists and turns of plot. It’s an invitation to be immersed in a compelling fictional universe of high stakes and suspenseful unravelling, living vicariously through scenes of action and danger.

However, the genre provides a great deal more than distraction. For a start, as many have observed, the structure of a typical crime novel is that of an orderly environment disrupted by seemingly senseless acts — after which Holmes, Poirot, Maigret, Milhone, Feluda or any of the rest step in to restore calm. The sense of security this provides resonates with a desire for order in the face of real-world uncertainty. Crime fiction allows us to confront and explore the random darkness of the world in a contained space.

That said, the best crime fiction rises above conservative conventions to pitilessly illuminate the world. For Ian Rankin, the crime novel is “the perfect vehicle for a discussion of contemporary issues in the most unflinching terms”. It has always been good at “articulating the fears that society has harboured at all moments of history”. This is what he expertly does with his Edinburgh-based Inspector Rebus series, and it’s also why many writers of so-called literary fiction have borrowed the genre’s tropes.

Going further, Rankin believes that no other type of fiction “is able to deal with high moral purpose in quite as rigorous a fashion as Dostoyevsky did in Crime and Punishment and Dickens did in Bleak House”. In this way, crime fiction can mirror the societal anxieties and power dynamics at work today. From the gritty streets of Boston in Dennis Lehane's Mystic River, where trauma and guilt simmer beneath the surface, to the sun-baked plains of north India in Nilanjana Roy's Black River, where corruption and privilege cast long shadows, such stories grapple with the moral ambiguity that defines our age. There are countless other examples.

The sheer variety of forms over the years speaks volumes about the genre’s potential and resilience. Among them are detective novels, spy fiction, police procedurals, legal dramas, so-called cosy mysteries, Golden Age tales, psychological thrillers, works in historical settings, and others from Scandinavia, India, Japan and virtually everywhere else. What ties them together? A crime story has as its focus the revelation of the truth about a crime, writes Martin Edwards in The Life of Crime, his survey of the genre. Typically, that truth concerns “whodunit, howdunit, whydunit, or whowasdunin”. Nicely done.

Not everyone is convinced about the genre’s merits. In his 1944 and 1945 essays, ‘Why Do People Read Detective Stories?’ and ‘Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?’, Edmund Wilson famously viewed crime fiction with a mixture of amusement and disdain. He found the plots formulaic, characters predictable, and literary merits non-existent. Those who read such work, he felt, took childish pleasure in puzzle-solving rather than engaging with complex ideas.

Wilson’s views, bearing more than a whiff of snobbery, haven’t aged well. It’s been pointed out that he’s selective as well as reductive, and his generalisations miss much of the depth of the best crime fiction. Besides, as Martin Edwards asserts, though bad crime novels have often been published, the same is equally true of what’s called literary fiction. There are enough high-calibre crime stories, past and present, to sate the most demanding appetites. Several focus on character development and inner struggles beyond solving a crime, in prose that elevates the storytelling.

For G.K. Chesterton, detective stories are “the only form of popular literature in which is expressed some sense of the poetry of modern life” and for Gertrude Stein, such fiction is “the only really modern novel form that has come into existence”. In a world on edge, crime fiction remains vital, reflecting our anxieties and offering both temporary refuge and acute social commentary.