Busman's Honeymoon by Dorothy L. Sayers

I'm sorry! I feel like I'm going to single-handedly make you all sick and tired of Dorothy L. Sayers by sheer gushy repetition. But I can't help the fact that I seem to have developed a bit of an obsession. The good news for those of you who are getting tired of hearing me go on and on about her is that Busman's Honeymoon is the last of the Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. For me, however, this is nothing short of tragic news, and I even might have actually shed a tear or two when I finished this book. I so didn't want to part from these characters. Valerie was kind enough to point out that there were a few short stories featuring them, but I might have already devoured those too, which means that there's really nothing more for me to read. Sadness. (Though there's some comfort to be found in the fact that I still haven't read all those Lord Peter sans Harriet books.)

Busman's Honeymoon begins right where Gaudy Night left off, with (this might be spoiler-y, but I think it doesn't actually ruin things to know that they do end up together. I won't tell you how it happens, of course) Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey getting engaged. The first section of the book, which is told through letters between several characters and journal entries by Lord Peter's mother, describes their engagement and wedding. And oh, what fun I had reading it. Lord Peter's mother is a hilarious and perceptive narrator, and through her we get glimpses of some truly sweet moments between Harriet and Peter. But - and this is the interesting thing - they're really only glimpses. Sayers never really shows us anything truly explicit (and no, by “explicit” I don't mean sexual), which somehow only makes the glimmers of emotions we do get to see stand out all the more. More than anything, Sayers suggests and implies, and the reader’s imagination does the rest.

Busman's Honeymoon is, of course, a murder mystery, and by now you just might be wondering where the murder this. After the first 150 or so pages, which are pure fun, the book becomes much darker: a body is found in the country farmhouse where Harriet and Peter have gone for a quiet honeymoon. Having found themselves involved in the murder, they can't just walk away and go have fun elsewhere, leaving someone who committed a crime on the loose behind them; and, even more importantly, leaving the suspicion hanging over the heads of several innocents. Busman's Honeymoon is different from Sayer's other books in that it's a country village mystery. We get to know the characters and see what makes them tick, all along knowing that the culprit is one of them; possibly even someone we actually like. Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane know this too, and Sayers doesn't make light of it. Unlike, say, Have His Carcase, this is not an impersonal mystery. And despite the sheer delight that the first third of the book offers, it's not a light story either. But its darkness and complexity are a big part of the reason why I loved it so much - it lived up to Gaudy Night, and that's saying a lot.

Sayers herself admitted, in a letter a friend, that Busman's Honeymoon was either a love story with detective interruptions or a love story with detective interruptions. I think it's neither, actually, because the love story and the mystery are tied so close together that I never felt that one was interrupting the other. The difficult things that Harriet and Peter have to face have an impact on their relationship, and they move the characterisation forwards immensely. Busman's Honeymoon is, among other things, a book about the fact that happiness and intimacy are not easy. It looks beyond the “happily ever after” and shows us what's on the other side.

I love Sayers so much for not ending these characters' stories with them getting together at the end of Gaudy Night. The great majority of love stories tend to be about what people call “the thrill of the chase” (only I hate that metaphor and everything it implies with a passion), but personally I'm a much bigger fan of stories about long-term intimacy. We need more of those – we need stories that acknowledge all the hard work that actually remaining close to another human being requires; that being permanently vulnerable before someone, navigating difficulties, and remaining honest and respectful always is not necessarily easy. Happiness is not effortless, especially for those who don’t necessarily expect it. Busman's Honeymoon is one of those stories, and I love it for it.

Also, all the gender considerations Sayers introduced in Gaudy Night (and before that, really) and present here again, though in different ways. Harriet and Peter are two people struggling not to slip into the roles that everyone around them expects them to play; to remain, before one another, primarily two human beings rather than Husband and Wife.

Moving back to the mystery, I want to share a passage in which Sayers explains something I have always felt to be true about her books: that they’re primarily howdunits rather than whodunits. At one point in the investigation, Peter Wimsey says:

‘You can have no idea (…) how refreshing it is to talk to somebody who has a grasp of method. The police are excellent fellows, but the only principle of detection they have really grasped is that wretched phrase, ‘Cui Bono?. They will hare off after a motive, which is a matter for psychologists. (…) You’ve got to show how the thing was done, and then, if you like, bring in motive to back up your proof. If a thing could only have been done one way, and if only one person could have done it that way, then you’ve got your criminal, motive or no motive. There’s How, When, Where, Why and Who – and when you’ve got How, you’ve got Who. Thus spake Zarathustra.’

It’s funny: if I had been told this about her books out of context I might have been put off. I like psychological explorations of motivation, thank you very much, and I’d probably think that this would make her mysteries impersonal and not really character-oriented at all. I couldn’t have been more wrong, of course, because while it’s true that she doesn’t really go for in-depth psychological portrays of her criminals, the complexity of characterisation is all there in her amateur detectives themselves. And that’s just fine by me.

I’ll shut up soon, but one last thing: I loved the ending of this book. It was perfect and painful and it left me in tears. I won’t give it away, naturally, but it has to do with everything I was saying before about closeness and vulnerability being hard work. Plus we learn a lot more about Lord Peter and Bunter and the origin of their friendship (as that’s what it is, really, even if officially they’re Lord and Servant). We also learn about what Peter saw and went through in the Great War, and the consequences of those experiences. But I’ll say no more. Just…Dorothy Sayers, you have earned my undying love.

Bits I liked:

He appeared satisfied, but Harriet cursed herself for a fool. This business of adjusting oneself was not so easy after all. Being preposterously fond of a person didn’t prevent one from hurting him unintentionally. She had an uncomfortable feeling that his confidence had been shaken and that this was not the end of the misunderstanding. He was not the kind of man to whom you could say, ‘Darling, you’re wonderful and whatever you do is right’ – whether you thought so or not. He would write you down a fool. Nor was he the sort who said, ‘I know what I’m doing and you must take my word for it’ (Thank God for that, anyway!). He wanted you to agree with him intelligently or not at all.

And this – this is perhaps the clearest of those glimpses of raw emotion I was talking about before. Call me a sap, but it made me cry:

She lifted his head between her hands, and what she saw in his face stopped her heart.
‘Oh, my dear, don’t… Not all that… It’s terrifying to be so happy.’
‘Ah, no, it’s not,’ he said quickly, taking courage from her fear.

‘All other things to their destruction draw,
Only our love hath no decay;
This no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday;
Running it never runs from us away
But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.’

‘Peter—’
He shook his head, vexed at his own impotence.
‘How can I find words? Poets have taken them all, and left me with nothing to say or do—’
‘Except to teach me for the first time what they mean.’
He found it hard to believe.

‘Have I done that?’
‘Oh, Peter –’ Somehow she must make him believe it, because it mattered so much that he should. ‘All my life I have been wandering in the dark—but now I have found your heart—and am satisfied.’
‘And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that? – I love you – I am at rest with you – I have come home.’

*sniff* Best couple ever. And sorry, this is huge. It seems that once I get started I really cannot shut up about Sayers.


(Have you posted about this book too? Let me know and I'll add your link here.)