The case of the elegant detective

Dorothy L. Sayers was a true intellectual. She earned an MA from Oxford in 1920, a year when college degrees for women were very unusual. A linguist and a scholar of medieval literature, she translated Dante and The Song of Roland into English. She wrote poetry, plays, essays, and several thoughtful works of Christian scholarship.

She was also – this is my humble opinion – the greatest mystery novelist of all time.

Most of her crime novels star Lord Peter Wimsey, the younger son of a ducal family. His flawless Saville Row suits and Bertie Wooster-like chitchat conceal a brilliant crime-fighting mind. From 1923 to 1939, Lord Peter tracked murderers and deciphered clues through eleven novels and twenty-one short stories.

Although the mysteries solved by Lord Peter are fiendishly clever, it's the witty repartee that keeps me reading these books again and again. Take this sample of flirtation between Wimsey and a pretty woman:


"I'll have to get a decent frock, if there is such a thing in Wilvercombe."

"Well, get a wine-coloured one, then. I've always wanted to see you in wine-colour. It suits people with honey-colored skin. (What an ugly word 'skin' is.) 'Blossoms of the honey-sweet and honey-colored menuphar' - I always have a quotation for everything - it saves original thinking."

"Port or sherry?"

"What?"

"The frock -- port or sherry?"

"Claret," said Wimsey. "Chateau Margaux 1893 or thereabouts. I'm not particular about a year or two."

That's from Have His Carcasse, one of the funniest of Sayers' books. (And in case you're wondering, the "honey-colored menuphar" line comes from Oscar Wilde.) I reread them every few years, and recommend them all.