Mystery Fiction as Continuation and Response to Gothic - a comparison of Poe's "Murders in the Rue Morgue" and Lewis's The Monk

Edgar Allen Poe, who invented the first detective in C. Auguste Dupin, is widely known for his
tales of horror. As this might suggest, there is some overlap between the genres of mystery and the
Gothic. A comparison of works from the two genres, Matthew Lewis's The Monk and the short mystery
stories of Poe (particularly “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”), reveals that early mystery fiction can
be seen as a continuation of the Gothic genre; many of these stories utilize characteristic Gothic motifs,
including the Gothic setting, the morally questionable protagonist, and the exploration of the darker
aspects of human nature. However, while mystery is a continuation of the Gothic, it is likewise a
response to the Gothic which, even as it uses the Gothic tropes mentioned above, alters, adapts, or
subverts them.

An evident point of similarity between Lewis's The Monk and Poe's “The Murders in the Rue
Morgue” is setting. In The Monk, Lewis describes the central location of the Capuchin Church as
containing a “gloom” and a “gothic obscurity.” The setting used for the home of Dupin and his
unnamed companion, “a time-eaten and grotesque mansion,” is likewise Gothic. In each case, the
setting reflects the characters and plot. The “gothic obscurity” of the Capuchin Church, in addition to
creating the eerie quality associated with the Gothic, hints at the obscured or suppressed truths and
passions therein. Similarly, Dupin's home mirrors “the fantastic gloom of [his]...temper.” However,
there is a significant difference in setting between the two works: Lewis' novel, influenced by the
Romantic interest in the premodern, is set in the past, in a time of castles and Cavaliers carrying
rapiers; Poe's story, conversely, set in a contemporary age “amid the...shadows of the populous city,”
brings the Gothic into the modern.

The urban setting is a defining feature of mystery fiction. Poe's earlier story, “The Man of the
Crowd,” which – with its observant protagonist pursuing “the type and genius of deep crime” – one can
read as a prototype to Poe's detective stories, also emphasizes the urban setting: the story takes place on
a crowded “principal thoroughfare” in the city of London. The interest and emphasis on the urban in
mystery fiction, as well the popularity of mystery fiction in the nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, can be linked to the urbanization taking place throughout Europe during the Industrial
Revolution which brought greater numbers and varieties of people into locations such as London.
Mystery fiction, then, adapts Gothic elements to a modern context. Thus, despite having Gothic traits,
mystery fiction lacks the Romantic, retrogressive quality of Gothic literature. It is more present.

The tendency of mystery fiction to be present, as opposed to distant or other-wordly as Gothic
fiction often is, manifests itself also in the underlying logic of mystery stories. Generally, mystery
fiction relies on materialism. In the baffling case of the L'Espanaye murders, for example, physical
materials such as the “little tuft [of hair he takes] from the rigidly clutched fingers of Madame
L'Espanaye,” prove essential to Dupin's reasoning through the case. Gothic fiction, on the other hand,
relies on the supernatural to extend and explain the plot. In The Monk, Don Raymond is unable to elope
with Agnes, for example, because he gets involved with the ghost of a nun. Similarly, Ambrosio's
downfall is exacted though a “crafty spirit” working for the devil. Poe, in “The Murders in the Rue
Morgue,” draws particular attention to the fact that he is departing from this kind of supernatural
explanation by having Dupin say assuredly “Madame and Mademoiselle L'Espanaye were not
destroyed by spirits. The doers of the deed were material, and escaped materially. Then how?” In both
stories, there is violence and crime; however, mystery fiction begins with the premise that these are
caused materially, and thus can be solved materially. Gothic fiction, in this way, is, conceivably, more
horrifying; to think that there are hidden, evil spirits working for our downfall, especially in a world
like Lewis's where benevolent spirits seem altogether absent, is a frightening thought. In an age of
increasing industry, materialism, and secularization, however, mystery fiction may have been seen as
more relevant and applicable than literature which relied on the supernatural.

Despite the fact that the premise underlying (and therefore the conclusion arising from) “The
Murders in the Rue Morgue” is fundamentally different from that which underlies The Monk, each of
these stories considers the same issue: where does violence come from? In this, one sees that mystery
fiction has a keen interest, characteristic of Gothic literature, in the darker aspects of nature. One
element of the mystery story wherein we see this interest is the characterization of the protagonist as
morally ambiguous. From his inception with Dupin, the detective figure has rarely been a classic hero –
smart, courageous, handsome, and likeable; more often, as with Dupin, he is an insightful, somewhat
anti-social character observing society from its outskirts with no interest in engaging with it except at
his own pleasure and convenience. The moral ambivalence of Dupin shows through in his desiring to
examine the murder scene of the L'Espanayes, not from a desire to help, but because “an inquiry
[would] afford...amusement.” More strikingly perhaps, in his discussion of analysis in “The Murders in
the Rue Morgue,” the narrator writes that “the analyst throws himself into the spirit of his opponent
[and] identifies himself therewith.” Thus, in solving the case of who killed the L'Espanayes, Dupin is,
in fact, thinking like the murderer. In this particular case, it is the mind of an animal that he identifies
with; thus, Dupin is able to get in touch with a primitive, irrational, and potentially extremely violent
mentality within himself. The narrator says that he and Dupin lived “as madmen – although,
perhaps...of a harmless nature.” In other words, the protagonist of Poe's mystery stories, the hero, is
somehow essentially alike to the villain, and this alike-ness is foregrounded. In The Monk, similarly, it
is the villainy of the protagonist Ambrosio, his capacity for evil thought, his primitive desires, his
irrational impulsivity, and so on which are foregrounded. However, again, an essential difference
emerges between the two stories. The detective's capacity for thought is unlike anyone's but the
criminal himself. This is precisely why no one else can solve the case; the police, for instance, despite
all their “vast parade of measures,” are ineffectual. Within the context of the story, then, only the
detective can identify with the criminal. In this sense, he is outside of general humanity, just as the
criminal is. In The Monk, conversely, the villanous protagonist is a monk. He is expected to be the best
of us; thus, his succumbing to evil implies that everyone else is equally, if not more so, likely to be
damned: if the best of us can fall, what hope do the rest have?

Herein, perhaps, lies the defining difference between the two genres: the early works of mystery
fiction are, essentially, hopeful. “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” for example, begins with this quote
by Sir Thomas Browne: “What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he bid
himself among women, although puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.” That is a
reassuring statement, telling the reader that it is possible to know what seems unknowable. In the case
of “The Murders of the Rue Morgue,” it becomes possible to make sense of what initially seems to be
senseless brutality. Furthermore, it is possible to do so without resorting to explanations involving
forces of pure evil, as the Gothic tends to do. Mystery fiction is about the solution: by solving a case,
the detective brings understanding which restores a sense of security. Gothic works such as The Monk,
on the other hand, focus on the fall of society and individuals from peace and security into a state so
debased, of evil so profound, it can only be explained as supernatural.

Mystery can be read as a continuation of the Gothic. The two genres share similarities in setting
and in characterization; they even ask similar questions: What is evil? Where does violence come
from? How can humanity and society be saved from these forces that threaten them? However, mystery
and Gothic fiction differ in key respects: mystery focuses on the urban and the physical; the
protagonist, while he shares a likeness with the villain, is not himself a villain but is rather salvaged
through the usage of his intellect and imagination; as to the question of evil, mystery fiction explains
crime rationally, thus eliminating the terror. The result is that, while mystery and the Gothic share
certain elements, explore similar questions and contrive similar themes, ultimately mystery is a more
positive genre, demonstrating a subtle yet obstinate strand of optimism that the Gothic generally lacks.


SOURCES

Lewis, Matthew. The Monk, a romance. Project Gutenberg. Web. September 22, 2012.

Poe, Edgar Allen. “The Man of the Crowd.” The Works of Edgar Allen Poe – Volume 1. Project
Gutenberg. Web. October 2, 2012.

---. “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” The Works of Edgar Allen Poe – Volume 5. Project Gutenberg.
Web. October 2, 2012.

The “Good Cause” – Understanding the Classic Detective’s Motivation and Relationship to the Established Police Force

It is a characteristic of the detective genre that the protagonist is an outcast, not removed from the mainstream merely by way of superior intellect but also through his very position as a private investigator, a man who solves crime but remains separate of the established law enforcement system. In fact, his attitude towards the official police force is often condescending, emphasizing the distinction between the two. It is questionable, then, what precisely motivates such sleuths as Sherlock Holmes and C. Auguste Dupin who are not propelled by a strict judicial duty. Texts featuring these two notorious characters – in particular, “The Purloined Letter” by Edgar Allen Poe and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle – suggests that their actions are not merely whimsical as they might first appear. The choices Dupin and Holmes make, as well as their distinct detachment from the established law force, are reflective of the era in which they were conceived – that is, the mid- to late-19^th century – and the literary trends by which their stories were influenced. Furthermore, their separation from the police force is useful both as a plot and a thematic device, as it relates to a contemporary understanding of the criminal and the means by which to apprehend him.

To begin, most basically, the detective is an outcast because the criminal is an outcast. For instance, consider “the woman” (Doyle), Irene Adler, who appears in “A Scandal in Bohemia.” She is exceptional, but not only because she is one of only four criminals who outwits Holmes. She is financially successful and independent, having enjoyed a lucrative career as an operatic performer; she is described, further, as an “adventuress” (Doyle), indicating her ambition and desire for autonomy; she has no children and isn’t rooted to a domestic life – in short, in many ways, she doesn’t adhere to the conventions of her sex as perceived during the Victorian era. Thus the criminal is depicted as an outcast. He or she is differentiated from the mainstream because they work outside of the law; however they also seem to fall outside of social law, displaying nonconventional behaviours and thoughts.

The detective genre suggests that established law enforcement systems cannot apprehend such criminals precisely because they are established. Because police forces are institutionalized, they are limited by the standards they set for themselves. For instance, in “The Purloined Letter,” Monsieur G— is unable to find the stolen letter despite applying every method and instrument available to him through his position as Prefect of the Parisian Police. Dupin clearly states the reason for this failure: “A certain set of highly ingenious resources are...a sort of Procrustean bed, to which [the Prefect] forcibly adapts his designs” (Poe). Thus, police forces, as standardized systems within a conventional society are simply incapable of understanding the criminal mastermind which is so far removed from the norm.

The detective, on the other hand, is a double of the criminal – markedly similar. Irene Adler and Holmes, for example, both make use of disguises in “A Scandal in Bohemia.” In “The Purloined Letter,” the relationship between Dupin and the Minister D— as doubles is demonstrated in the fact that both Dupin and the Minister use the same method to steal the letter – that is, switching it for an identical one. In each of these cases, furthermore, the detective and the criminal share a similar process of thinking whereby he or she invokes “an identification...with [the intellect] of his [or her] opponent” (Poe) which allows the “reasoner” (Poe) to anticipate, and plan against, the opponent’s actions.

The fact that the detective works outside of the law is important, then, as it enhances the relationship between him and the criminal as doubles and thereby further develops the theme that it takes similar individuals to comprehend one another. “The Purloined Letter” especially suggests that established police forces can not apprehend criminals because police forces are conventional, their mode of thought and method of action standard; detectives, as distinct from such law enforcement systems, are able to comprehend criminals because they themselves are similar to criminals, most particularly in their non-conformity to standards.

Evidently, then, Conan Doyle and Poe seem to express dissatisfaction with systems of policing. Poe writes Dupin as quite explicit with his acknowledgement of the shortcomings of the Parisian Police; he says they are capable only “in their way...so far as [their labours] extend” (Poe). On the other hand, Holmes is not quite as explicit, but throughout The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes he is time and again consulted by, or otherwise aiding, various police – in “The Red-Headed League,” “The Boscombe Valley Mystery,” and “The Beryl Coronet,” to name a few – indicating a fairly consistent incompetency within law enforcement systems. This apparent lack of faith in the established forces of good perhaps reflects a sense of uneasiness which was rising alongside crime rates during a time of urbanization. It is noteworthy that many of the crimes committed in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes are related to money, greed, blackmailing, robbery, financial inheritances, and so forth; these were the concerns of a growing middle class of men and women who were increasingly aware and protective of their possessions. The centralization of these crimes within The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, coupled with the apparent incompetency of the police in detective stories by Conan Doyle and Poe, are indicative of the general feeling of fear and insecurity at the time of urbanization.

In addition to the effects of urbanization, however, Poe, who was writing his Dupin-stories during a time of Romanticism and transcendentalism, were likely influenced by these trends as well in his depiction of the police as incompetent. Among the central tenets of transcendentalism are included an exaltation of the individual and an aversion to structures or institutions of authority or convention (Hewson, “Emerson”). Dupin is essentially a champion of transcendentalism in his non-conformity. As the narrator says, Dupin’s opinions “[contradict]...the voice of the world” (Poe). Thus Dupin’s superiority, especially in relation to the Prefect, can be attributed to the influence of transcendentalism which belittled the effectiveness of authority and praised the power of the individual, unique mind.

Transcendentalism and romanticism can also help explain Dupin’s motivation. At the end of “The Purloined Letter” it is revealed that Dupin is responding, in solving the crime and planning to humiliate the Minister D—, to an “evil turn” (Poe) done him by the criminal a while ago – that is to say, his motivation is, plainly, revenge. While it seems odd that justice should be upheld by a man seeking revenge, it attests to Poe’s understanding of human nature. In general, transcendentalists, who put an emphasis on nature, perceived human nature positively (Hewson, “Hawthorne”). Other writers – such as Nathaniel Hawthorne, who lived and wrote around the time of Poe – though sharing the transcendentalist interest in human nature, were not optimistic (Hewson, “Hawthorne”). Poe fits into this latter category. Many of his most famous works – among them “The Tell-Tale Heart” and “The Raven,”– focus on points of murder, insanity, repression, guilt – the darker aspects of human nature. “The Purloined Letter” is not entirely different. The plot is driven by crime, and although “The Purloined Letter” itself is perhaps not as dark as Poe’s other works, still it suggests a pessimistic view of human nature in the fact that its hero, Dupin, is motivated by selfish interests.

That being said, not all classic detective stories promote a pessimistic view of human nature. Sherlock Holmes is fundamentally different from Dupin in regards to the motivation of his actions. Through and through, he exhibits a sense of morality. There are instances when he breaks the law or deliberately withholds information. For example, at the end of “The Valley Boscombe Mystery,” Holmes decides not to go to the police directly with the identity of the murderer because Mr. Turner “will soon have to answer for [his] deed at a higher court than the Assizes” (Doyle). At the end of “The Speckled Band,” for another instance, Holmes states that his indirect murder of Dr. Roylott (a deliberate murderer himself) will not “weigh very heavily upon [his] conscience” (Doyle). Thus, there is a consistent impression that Sherlock Holmes is guided by ethical principles. Furthermore, he often uses religious language. For example, at the end of “The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet,” when Holmes lets a thief walk free out of his office, he states, “I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul” (Doyle). Moreover, his detective work often puts him in the position of a priest – or even God – in that he hears confession and passes judgment – and his judgment is always morally sound. Sherlock Holmes is, in a sense then, the unification of moral conscience and scientific or intellectual reasoning.

To conclude, the fact that detectives in early mysteries are characteristically separate from society, and more particularly, from the established police force, is related to a number of things. On the one hand, it serves a literary purpose; as a double of the criminal, the detective can do what the police can not – namely, apprehend the criminal. The notion that the police are inadequate in affairs of crime can be linked to growing concerns during urbanization, but its influences can also be found in the movement of transcendentalism and romanticism, which exalted the individual over authority and convention. Finally, as they are not part of the police force, detectives typically are not motivated by a judicial sense of duty; however, precisely what their motivation is varies from selfishness to ethical values.

SOURCES

Conan Doyle, Arthur. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Project Gutenberg. 29 Nov 2001.

Hewson, Marc. “Emerson: ‘Nature,’ ‘Self-Reliance’.” ENG2450A. University of Ottawa, Ottawa, ON. 25 May 2011.

Hewson, Marc. “Hawthorne: The Scarlet Letter.” ENG2450A. University of Ottawa, Ottawa, ON. 30 May 2011.

Poe, Edgar Allen. "The Purloined Letter." The Works of Edgar Allen Poe, Volume 2. Project Gutenberg. 19 May 2008. Project Gutenberg.