Customer Reviews

The Glimpses Of The Moon: A novel

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"The Glimpses of the Moon" (1978) was published twenty-six years after Crispin's penultimate Fen novel, "The Long Divorce" (1952). It is sandwiched between two collections of short stories: "Beware of the Trains" (1953) and "Fen Country" (1979- published posthumously.)

In this novel, Professor Fen is on sabbatical in the Devon countryside. He is house-sitting for a couple of friends, writing a book that critiques the post-modern novel (this is funnier than it sounds), and pre-masticating pansy petals for his friends' finicky, gourmand tortoise. Since this is another of Crispin's fine pastorals, there are also a variety of pigs (living and dead), cows, a sex-crazed tomcat, a narcoleptic horse, and a cocker spaniel that plays a minor role in the murder mystery.

In fact the mystery of who killed whom is almost buried under the goings-on of the livestock, the rural electric board, and the church fete. Fen concerns himself not so much with the identity of the murderer, as he does with the identity of the person who kept sneaking into a tent at the rector's annual fete and cutting bits off of the concealed corpse.

One might even classify "The Glimpses of the Moon" as a 'locked tent' mystery.

Fen seems to have lost a great deal of energy since "The Long Divorce," twenty-six years past. He does not detect so much as get detected upon by his friends, the Rector, the Major, and the Horror-film Composer. There are huge digressions that are interesting, but have nothing to do with the plot. For instance, the bumblings of the South Western Electricity Board (Sweb) and the fox-hunt protesters get more page time than the murders. There is also a great deal of satirical commentary on the "over-developed sensibilities of under-developed nations" by a foreign correspondent who is rusticating in Devon, after getting kicked out of yet another African country (some readers might find this offensive).

However, a Fen is a Fen and this is his last novel. First-time readers might want to begin at the beginning of the series with "The Case of the Gilded Fly." My own favorite Fen is "Love Lies Bleeding," followed very closely by "The Long Divorce." "The Moving Toyshop" is the most-published of Crispin's mysteries, and probably the easiest to locate. And don't neglect "Frequent Hearses," which features a maze scene that is frighteningly reminiscent of M.R. James (in fact the woman who is lost in the maze quotes M.R. James at length---a very Crispian characteristic.)

Crispin's short stories featuring his remarkable detective-professor were originally published in a newspaper, to be read (and solved) on the train home from work. They are fiendishly clever intellectual exercises but lack the depth of characterization and the sparkling, erudite conversation of his novels.

Thanks, Starmoth for a really complete and informative review! I wish I had written it.

I would add a couple of things. For me, Glimpses of the Moon was Crispin's best because of the wicked wit. Nearly every paragraph, surely every page has some sly hit against the modern world. I have read this book about four times and I couldn't tell you the story. But each time I pick it up, I know I will spend the next couple of hours laughing out loud. I have examples in mind, such as his two page description of a pompous policeman lighting his pipe. But it really takes Crispin's skill to bring the story and his quirky, unforgettable characters to life.

I don't expect readers to get offended by his satire. Crispin is a bit like Saturday Night Live. It's difficult to resent attacks that are directed at everything, especially when they are so light-hearted and good-natured.

This is really a great book that is worth reading!

My favorite mystery ever. At times, the author's sense of humor and cynicism just makes me laugh out loud. Gervase Fen is surely one of the more noxious, but lovable, detectives in the literature, and Crispin writes with a sure, erudite hand.

An absolutely wonderful book. The most amazing characters spring forth - the cavalry Major (you must always have a Major) whose happiest day was when they replaced horses with tanks, the inspector who has to baby his pipe so much he can hardly finish a sentence, the spinster sisters who own a horrendous painting they insist is a Botticelli, which they sell tickets to at the annual church fair. They share a hearing aid, and must pass it back and forth during an interrogation. There is also a musician who earns his living writing movie scores (as did Crispin), and must write 12 seconds of music to accompany the monster eating the children. The tavern owner who never gets out of bed, the hunt saboteur who mouths left-wind idiocies. It goes on and on.

I think Edmund Crispin's books are among the most brilliantly funny mystery novels ever conceived -- he was one-of-a-kind and combined a truly polished and even impressive prose style with compelling wit and lively characterisations.

That being said, this novel (published very late in his life) is not remotely in the same league as all his early work. He seems dissipated, strident and awkward. The story and plot make little sense, and the humor all seems forced, with none of the natural flow of subtlety that characterizes all of Crispin's earlier work.

If you've never read an Edmund Crispin book before, for God's sake skip this one and read any of the rest of them. He was a master of humor and mystery-writing, but this book written in his waning years is no way to experience him at his peak. I'd avoid this one totally, to be honest.

"The Glimpses of the Moon" (1978) was published twenty-six years after Crispin's penultimate Fen novel, "The Long Divorce" (1952). It is sandwiched between two collections of short stories: "Beware of the Trains" (1953) and "Fen Country" (1979- published posthumously.)

In this novel, Professor Fen is on sabbatical in the Devon countryside. He is house-sitting for a couple of friends, writing a book that critiques the post-modern novel (this is funnier than it sounds), and pre-masticating pansy petals for his friends' finicky, gourmand tortoise. Since this is another of Crispin's fine pastorals, there are also a variety of pigs (living and dead), cows, a sex-crazed tomcat, a narcoleptic horse, and a cocker spaniel that plays a minor role in the murder mystery.

In fact the mystery of who killed whom is almost buried under the goings-on of the livestock, the rural electric board, and the church fete. Fen concerns himself not so much with the identity of the murderer, as he does with the identity of the person who kept sneaking into a tent at the rector's annual fete and cutting bits off of the concealed corpse.

One might even classify "The Glimpses of the Moon" as a `locked tent' mystery.

Fen seems to have lost a great deal of energy since "The Long Divorce," twenty-six years past. He does not detect so much as get detected upon by his friends, the Rector, the Major, and the Horror-film Composer. There are huge digressions that are interesting, but have nothing to do with the plot. For instance, the bumblings of the South Western Electricity Board (Sweb) and the fox-hunt protesters get more page time than the murders. There is also a great deal of satirical commentary on the "over-developed sensibilities of under-developed nations" by a foreign correspondent who is rusticating in Devon, after getting kicked out of yet another African country (some readers might find this offensive).

However, a Fen is a Fen and this is his last novel. First-time readers might want to begin at the beginning of the series with "The Case of the Gilded Fly." My own favorite Fen is "Love Lies Bleeding," followed very closely by "The Long Divorce." "The Moving Toyshop" is the most-published of Crispin's mysteries, and probably the easiest to locate. And don't neglect "Frequent Hearses," which features a maze scene that is frighteningly reminiscent of M.R. James (in fact the woman who is lost in the maze quotes M.R. James at length---a very Crispian characteristic.)

Crispin's short stories featuring his remarkable detective-professor were originally published in a newspaper, to be read (and solved) on the train home from work. They are fiendishly clever intellectual exercises but lack the depth of characterization and the sparkling, erudite conversation of his novels.