Customer Reviews

The Skull Beneath the Skin

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To the best of my knowledge, P.D. James only wrote two books about her young female detective Cordelia Gray. That's unfortunate, because I enjoyed both of them very much, especially this one. It has all of the "classic" elements of the British murder mystery: the castle, an island, an oddly assorted company, a butler, an interesting wealthy man, assorted relatives, and a grisly murder. Cordelia must sort out everything in the end, and even though the ultiumate outcome is somewhat in doubt, there's rarely a dull moment throughout this book. You follow Ms. Gray's progress avidly, and try to keep up with what's going on around her to gather your own clues about the murder. I'll admit that I was shocked at the resolution of the mystery, and that's one of the reasons I enjoyed the book so much. If you haven't read Ms. James, start with "An Unsuitable Job For A Woman", the first Cordelia Gray mystery, and then progress to this work. You won't be disappointed!

Cordelia Gray, the brave and endearing young private investigator who made her debut in P.D. James' AN UNSUITABLE JOB FOR A WOMAN, returns in the author's eighth whodunit, THE SKULL BENEATH THE SKIN. The title's from Webster, and it's a fitting one; the story literally reeks of the theater. Clarissa Lisle is a bitchy, fading actress determined to salvage her career as the star of an amateur production of Webster's "The Duchess of Malfi," staged in a restored Victorian theater on Courcy Island, just off the coast of Dorset. Lisle has been receiving mysterious poison-pen letters, death notes in the form of quotations from Shakespeare and Webster, and has hired Cordelia to discover their source. The castle on Courcy Island becomes the stage for a tense gathering of Clarissa's friends, relatives, and guests--each of whom, we learn, has excellent motive for killing the actress. When the death does inevitably occur, Cordelia finds herself left with a case of murder that she fully intends to--and does--unravel.

THE SKULL BENEATH THE SKIN may be the most stylish, lavishly mounted novel that James has written. It's an overflowing mixture of the elements of the detective/horror tale at its most clichéd--the closed circle of suspects in a Victorian castle on a small island serviced by a spooky, tight-lipped butler and his wife, a crypt filled with skulls, a collection of memorabilia from past murders, frightening knick-knacks in the shapes of human appendages...it's all gloriously entertaining, never for a minute even coming close to realism. And therein lies the fatal flaw of the novel.

P.D. James' novels are seldom been anything but realistic, but she seems to have broken the rule in THE SKULL BENEATH THE SKIN. The Gothic horror, portrayed in a darkly comic manner, clashes painfully with her finely drawn, introspective characters (except Clarissa Lisle, one of the few two-dimensional stereotypes who pop up in James' fiction) and flawlessly crafted prose. It's as if she's written two completely different novels, one a brilliant character study, the other a conventional ghost story, and meshed them together with little regard for the coherence of the result. Until now, James has done a marvelous job proving that the English mystery can make an extraordinarily fine mainstream novel; unfortunately, she's also shown that the magic combination can work only when her settings are serious and controlled. THE SKULL BENEATH THE SKIN is not serious. It's not too far from out-and-out comedy, and James' admirable but vain attempts to weave her fantastic set pieces and excessively necrophilic atmosphere into a profound work of fiction makes it even more funny.

Not that most readers will care. This is still an absorbing entertainment--substantial, cunningly plotted, and beautifully written. More discriminating readers will conclude that either THE SKULL BENEATH THE SKIN is a parody written by a skilled impersonator, or P.D. James has seen one Dracula movie too many.

Now almost twenty-five years old, this mystery by P. D. James is a delightful entertainment, filled with plot twists and turns, over-the-top action, and characters who are so exaggerated that they might be considered caricatures. Cordelia Gray, a detective whose job is usually the finding of lost pets, is hired to guard egomaniacal actress Clarissa Lisle during the days leading up to her performance in The Duchess of Malfi. Always preoccupied with death, Clarissa has recently received threatening notes, leaving her hysterical on the eve of her performance.

Both Cordelia Gray and Clarissa Lisle are staying at Sir Ambrose Gorringe's Victorian castle, perched high on a remote island where Gorringe has restored the theater at which Clarissa will perform. A collector of morbid relics, including, most recently, the arm from a memorial statue of a dead child, Gorringe also delights in telling the island's history as a place where German POWs were interned.

When, despite precautions, Clarissa Lisle is, in fact, murdered--with the marble arm from the dead child's statue--the reader is presented with a typical "closed room" murder, the killer obviously one of a dozen or so people staying at the castle, each with a possible motive for killing Clarissa--the need of money for a business, blackmail, long-standing hatred, blame for the death of a child, humiliation, rejection. As the police (and Cordelia) investigate, the story of the island and the death of a German prisoner plays a role in the action.

As always, James's eerie setting furthers the mystery and enhances the suspense. The quirky and memorable characters are well drawn, but they often border on absurdity, and James's large cast and her use of stereotypes prevent significant character development. The unfolding mystery and constant plot twists keep the reader guessing--just when the murderer has been "uncovered," doubts arise about other characters and their possible involvement. Additional deaths keep the tension high, and the ending, in keeping with the tone of the novel, shows the decadence of these "elite" characters. Numerous quotations from plays by Christopher Marlowe, Shakespeare, and John Webster add additional (and ironic) dramatic punch to this mystery-melodrama. Highly entertaining and often wickedly amusing. Mary Whipple

This was my second P. D. James novel (the first was A CertainJustice).. P. D. James is a remarkable writer who uses her greattalents to great effect in this novel which is on the one hand gripping, intricate and colorful and on the other hand sensible, thoughtful and feminine.

Cordelia Grey (I have not read "An unsuitable job for a woman") is of great interest as a woman detective created by a woman author. She is a mature young woman, confident and sensible, who shares with many of Muriel Spark, or of Penelope Fitzgerald's female characters, a refreshing ability to be a woman without apology or undue reference to men (other than obliquely to Dagleish, hinted at as a potential lover, and her late patner who had killed himself). Cordelia is thrown into a turbulent situation filled with men and women who see themselves through the eyes of men (women who are not mothers - or thwarted mothers, or step-mothers - who have unhealthy sex lives).

It is not my intention to say that this is a feminist tract. It is not. It is a ripping good novel which is also highly intelligent. But it achieves a power and a level of insight through its author's sophisticated understanding of gender roles and relations that puts it in a very high class among novels of manners...Given an odd situation there was a very great deal of realism and it is unjust to forbear from extending to a crime novelist - or indeed any novelist - the grace to set up an odd situation.

I've recently read a good deal of Baroness James' work, and found much to admire if not a lot to like. While clearly and intelligently written, her works all too often come perilously close to sinking under their own High Moral Weight, and, I am afraid, are very nearly humorless. Adam Dalgliesh's gloom can get rather oppressive, and I was often moved to suggest that he get some Prozac.

The Skull Beneath The Skin, however, is the exception to the rule. Dalgliesh is nowhere in sight. James brings her other creation to the forefront, a woman named Cordelia Gray, last seen in James' An Unsuitable Job For A Woman. Cordelia runs her own detective agency, and at the start of the novel is hired to protect a neurotic actress from a series of poison-pen letters during an upcoming amateur theatrical production to take place on a secluded island.

James seems to be taking on the classic murder mystery, complete with despicable victim, exotic locale, small number of suspects each equipped with a motive, and finally, a rather bizarre murder weapon. The story moves swiftly and entertainingly, the characters live on the page, and if the denouement is rather unsatisfying, well, I think that is very much the point that James is making. Those classic whodunits are not about life, they are more about creating a puzzle for the reader to solve. James, however, wants to make us think about the realities of her situations, and to see her characters as living people, not just as cardboard types. In this book she James takes the genre out for a ride, and manages to have some good mean fun with it.

I have read almost every book P D James has written, and have always enjoyed reading about Adam Dagliesh and his methods to solving cases. So when I picked up this book, I thought it was another Dagliesh mystery. But it was actually narrated by Cordelia Gray who was introduced in An Unsuitable Job For A Woman. Cordelia is a somewhat inexperienced private detective who is wryly intelligent and humorously self-deprecating, a good contrast to Dagliesh who seems pompous and too tragic on occasion. Cordelia sort of flounders her way through some of the plot, but she is always entertaining. The other characters in this book are mostly interesting, though the murder victim is a bit too vapid to be believed. The setting of this book is the "mysterious castle" and James is excellent at creating suspense in this setting. James also keeps the reader trying to figure out who the murderer is up to the end of the book. A great read!

A delightful mystery in the classical, Agatha Christie style, "The Skull Beneath the Skin" has all the features making it remarkable within its genre.

A young private detective, Cordelia Gray, who has so far been struggling to make ends meet with tasks like rescuing lost pets or tailing the husbands of suspicious wives, suddenly gets a real, albeit strange, assignment. It comes from Sir George Ralston, a husband of a relatively famous actress, Clarissa Lisle. Apparently, Clarissa has been receiving anonymous notes with quotations from plays by Shakespeare, Webster and Marlowe, which she appeared in. The notes are always revolving around death and can easily be interpreted as death threats, especially that Clarissa is obsessively afraid of dying.

Cordelia is supposed to accompany Clarissa for a weekend on a private island, the Courcy Island, off the Dorset coast where the actress would give a performance in "The Duchess of Malfi", staged by an amateur theatre company in a castle theatre belonging to the eccentric owner of the island. Cordelia is to protect Clarissa and see to her well-being as Sir George is unable to be present. There are very few people present during the weekend: the owner and friend of Clarissa's, Ambrose Gorringe, a collector of Victorian curiosities, some of them morbid; Ivo Whittingham, a theatre critic, deadly ill; Clarissa's cousin, Roma Lisle, an owner of the small bookstore; Simon Lessing, a teenage son of Clarissa's second husband; Clarissa's dresser and two house servants. Unexpectedly, on Saturday Sir George makes an appearance... And on Sunday the murder takes place.

The similarity to Agatha Christie lies in the novel's British style, although it is set at the beginning of 1980s, the isolated setting, narrowing the suspect circle, and the careful rendering of the character cast, each representing in an exaggerated manner a certain type. The plot is slow at first, as the background is set with detailed introduction of each character, but as it progresses, it gets extremely engrossing (I lost the track of time while reading). There is enough suspense, despite Cordelia proving useless at solving the mystery in a way satisfactory for the police and there is no formal punishment for the murderer... The literary quotations and the theatrical setting give a very neat general interest background, and the book is full of nice, postmodern allusions to mystery fiction, which are fun to discover. Other mysteries of the castle add to the charm of the novel.

A thoroughly enjoyable read for all fans of mystery!

I first read "The Skull Beneath the Skin" eleven years ago and, after more than a few re-readings, have had to purchase a second copy. (Yes, it's that good!)

In the sequel to "An Unsuitable Job for a Woman" (which probably should be read first), Cordelia Gray is still struggling to maintain her detective agency. In some ways, she has attained a greater measure of independence (she now has her own flat and even has a couple of employees), but in some ways she is more self-doubting than ever (is finding lost pets really a worthy endeavor for a detective agency?).

"The Skull Beneath the Skin" probably isn't the best of P.D. James's works from a novelistic standpoint (her subsequent works, such as "A Taste for Death" and "A Certain Justice" explore deeper themes), but it remains my favorite of her books because the juxtaposition of country-house (well, Victorian castle) murder and Gothic horror is simply great entertainment. The characters are profoundly sympathetic and well-delineated, and the conclusion is both affecting and disturbing.

The Skull Beneath the SkinWay too much minutiae and not enough written on the plot to keep my interest. Very disappointed but will give P. D. James another try with Cover Her Face featuring Adam Dalglish. You can't beat Agatha Christie for being the queen of description in one short paragraph while James takes pages to show us a setting.

P.D. James is best known for her Adam Dalgliesh mysteries, and this is for the very good reason that in Dalgliesh James has created a believable, interesting, and flawed detective whose interactions with his suspects let them tell the story, instead of beating the reader over the head with how great Dalgliesh himself is. Cordelia Gray is another story.

Gray is a Mary Sue of the purest ray serene. Tragic past (mother died when she was born, father was a famous revolutionary, also dead; convent education), described as "attractive and catlike," "sweet," "grave," "a sensitive child," she's about as interesting as processed cheese in this particular concatenation of cliches and contrived shock. The problem here is twofold: James is trying to be Ngaio Marsh, and she is also trying entirely too hard to make the audience fall as clearly as she herself has fallen in love with Gray-as-heroine.

The story is grand-guignol with a little (a very little) of modern crime stuck on top to make it seem an appropriate murder mystery for a private eye to be solving. We have a cast of supporting characters surrounding Cordelia, the murder victim, and her husband, all stuck on a small island two miles off the Dorset coast, wondering whodunit. Without exception the supporting cast is a great deal more interesting and compelling than the central characters; in fact, the individual who resounded most strongly with me is the dying theatre critic Ivo Whittington, injecting a bit of amused self-deprecatory cynicism and a great deal of explanatory dialogue into the book. Whittington, of course, feels protective toward Cordelia; it is in his white-knighting that we see Cordelia for the floppy and helpless female she really is.

In the end whodunit is rather disappointing; a small matter of blackmail and tax avoidance, rather vulgar and modernistic compared to the Revenger's-Tragedy style of the rest of the book, serves for motive, and off Cordelia runs to get herself nearly killed (again). There is no real conclusion to the book. The murder victim's stepson is involved in a dramatic underwater bit of moral quandary; Whittington is seen lying helpless in bed, presumably his deathbed, while Cordelia runs around frantically; and in the end the bad guy does not get his comeuppance, the rest of the cast has already dispersed, and our heroine is blessed with a sudden and inexplicable feeling of well-being which I feel James injected in there in lieu of actually writing an ending.

This is not to say that The Skull Beneath the Skin is a -bad- book, merely a -mediocre- one, and from an auteur like James this is embarrassingly disappointing. Read it for the supporting characters and the descriptions of the island; don't expect to be pleased when you put it down.