Friday
means Friday’s Forgotten Books hosted by Patti Abbott here.
Patrick Ohl is back with thoughts on The
Julius Caesar Murder Case by Wallace Irwin. Patrick also has the At The Scene Of the Crime blog here so
go by there after you read the below review….
We all, of course, know about the death of
Julius Caesar. According to Shakespeare, the doomed dictator was warned by a
soothsayer to “beware the Ides of March”. But Caesar did not heed this warning,
and on that day he was stabbed 23 times by a group of conspirators led by
Marcus Junius Brutus (Et tu, Brute?).
Sic semper tyrannis and all that rot,
eh?
At least that’s what the historian think,
and let’s leave them to worry about facts and historical accuracy. Instead, let
us contemplate what really happened
on that fateful March in 44 B. C.. Have you heard, by any chance, of Manlius
Scribo, the star reporter for the Evening
Tiber—an early success in journalism, edited by Q. Bulbous Apex? Perhaps
you have heard of the barbaric British slave who served Scribo: Smithicus? But
more important than that, do you know that the events leading to Caesar’s death
were all started by the murder of the actor J. Romulus Comma? No? Then, my
friend, you must run along to your nearest bookstore and acquaint yourself with
Wallace Irwin’s The Julius Caesar Murder
Case.
First things first: this is not a historical
mystery in the sense that we understand today. This isn’t a historically
accurate depiction of Ancient Rome, and the author has no intention of trying
to reconstruct this long-gone society and then writing a murder story within
the time period. No, this is the Ancient Rome of a Looney Tunes cartoon. This
is more a comedy, with characters making references to inventions that would
come years later – for instance, when the slave Smithicus suggests that traffic
can be controlled via beacons of different colours. The book feels rather like
a movie from the 1930s, maybe in the mystery-comedy genre, and the dialogue
often has the same snappy feel to it.
More specifically, much of the comedy is
vicious satire, laid squarely at the heels of Adolf Hitler and Benito
Mussolini. In fact, the book’s joking dedication is “To Benito Mussolini and
Adolf Hitler, this book is affectionately dedicated with the author’s feeling
that in distance there is security.” There is a very strong anti-fascist theme
throughout the book, with various characters condemning Caesar and the way he
has seized control over Rome. There are many wisecracks throughout— for
instance, there are some nice lines
about censorship of the press. Keep in
mind that this book was released in 1935, long before the outbreak of WWII.
Even the death of Caesar is played for
laughs, as we discover that the historical account of his assassination was
lacking one key detail: it turns out that Caesar’s assassination was an
impossible crime of sorts...
For
Julius Caesar, walking quite alone, fully a dozen feet beyond the reach of any
assassin’s arm, suddenly threw his stylus in the air and fell forward on his
face!
A
deadly knife, coming out of nowhere, had pierced him straight through the back
and stood quivering in his bleeding and lifeless body!
(…) To the conspirators it was intensely
embarrassing. “Who in Helvetia did that?” cried Decimus Brutus in a rough
soldier’s voice.
“I didn’t,” quavered Junius Brutus. “I was
going to, but — ”
“None of us did!” muttered the others.
“What are we expected to do now?” asked
Casca petulantly. “We came here to kill Cæsar, and he’s done the job himself.”
“Bolonia!”
snarled Cassius, “a man can’t stab himself in the back, even if he is a
politician. (…) Grab the credit for it, boys! That’s the main thing. Brutus,
turn him over, take that hog-knife out of his back and stick your own dagger in
his chest. Atta patriot. Now, boys, give the yell — one, two, three — ”
“Sic
Semper Tyrannis — rah-rah — Liberty, Liberty — Ti-ger!!!” roared the Six
Savage Senators, appropriately dipping their swords in blood as they waved them
aloft.
This is more or less where the plot takes
over and the satire begins to direct itself towards the mystery genre. It’s
targeted quite a bit throughout the book, in a playful way. For instance, the
novel opens with a bogus bibliography that lists many important sources that
went into the making of this book, such as the Encyclopedia Britannica (BIF to COG) or that eternal guide, Andrew
Flech Doughbeer’s 100 Lessons in Sex.
But what concerns us here is the mysteries that are listed. Many of these are
real mysteries – for instance, Harry Stephen Keeler’s The Box from Japan or Ellery Queen’s The American Gun Mystery – but some are joke titles. After S. S.
Van Dine’s The Green Murder Case is
listed, there follow two books by “Anonymous": The Yellow Murder Case and The
Blue Murder Case, as well as the Congressional
Record, 1876-79.
Other plot elements poke fun at some of the
genre’s traditions. For instance, Cleopatra is presented as your classic femme fatale, a most appropriate
incarnation. Mark Anthony is a ruthless businessman who won’t let anything
stand in his path. The prospective murder victim, Caesar, is so thick-headed
about there being a murder conspiracy against him, that when it is pointed out
to him he laughs it off. He’s having too much fun running his very own empire.
All this is done with a sense of play and a
genuine respect for the genre’s key staple: ingenuity. You see, the murder of
Julius Caesar has a genuinely ingenious solution, one that I did not see coming
at all because I was too busy laughing at the jokes. You get all the clues that
point out the murderer’s identity, and so I’m ashamed of my failure to solve
the case because I should have seen
the solution.
If you’ve never read The Julius Caesar Murder Case, I highly recommend it. It’s plenty
of fun. It’s an early example of the historical mystery genre that has become
wildly popular these days. It doesn’t try to recreate history like Paul Doherty
might, but it has fun with its premise, and it transports you to an Ancient
Rome that follows the logic of the Looney Tunes universe. The murder plot is
plenty of fun and rather ingenious. The satire directed against Hitler and
Mussolini is genuinely funny, as is the satirical take on the mystery genre.
It’s a fun read overall.
Patrick Ohl ©2013
The
nineteen-year-old Patrick Ohl continues to plot to take over the world when he
isn’t writing reviews of books he reads on his blog, At the
Scene of the Crime. In his spare time he conducts genetic
experiments in his top-secret laboratory, hoping to create a creature as
terrifying as the Giant Rat of Sumatra in a bid to take over the world. His
hobbies include drinking tea and going outside to do a barbecue in -10°C
weather.
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