"‘Oh, Damn!’ said Lord Peter
Wimsey at Piccadilly Circus." These are the
first words uttered by Lord Peter on his initial
appearance in Dorothy L. Sayers’ first Wimsey
novel, Whose Body? (1923). Sayers reveals
many aspects of Lord Peter’s complex personality
in this novel, showing that he is not, as many
of his detractors would have it, some sort of
scatterbrained sleuth in the mold of Bertie
Wooster (a judgment which in turn begs the
question about Wooster, who is a published
writer, an able musician, chivalrous, and not as
stupid as some might think). In an article
entitled "How I Came to Invent the Character of
Lord Peter Wimsey" (Harcourt Brace News,
July 15th 1936), Sayers says of her creation, "I
do not as a matter of fact remember inventing
Lord Peter Wimsey . . . He walked in complete
with spats and applied in an airy
don’t-care-if-I-don’t-get-it way for the job of
hero." And later, in The Mind of the Maker
(1941), she states, "He is what he is . . .
. He exists in his own right and not to please
you [the reader] . . . . I will not ‘make’ him
do anything."
When Wimsey says "Oh, Damn!" at
Piccadilly Circus, he is on his way to a sale of
incunabula (early printed books). Sayers ensures
that readers don’t consider this a dilettante
pursuit, by making us aware of Wimsey’s
scholarly approach to the subject. Book dealers
know his reputation and in a later short story
he instructs his nephew, Viscount St. George, in
the intricacies of typefaces and dates. In 1927
he writes "a very scholarly little monograph"
called Notes on the Collecting of Incunabula
and visits the British Museum "to collate a
12th century manuscript of Tristan"—work which
Sayers herself engaged upon for her 1929
translation of Tristan in Brittany.
And so, like Sayers, he is a
scholar. He is a Balliol man, with a First in
Modern History. A Fellow of All Souls says of
him in Gaudy Night (1935) that his
knowledge of the printing and distribution of
Reformation polemical documents is expert. Also
in that novel, he shows he is quite able to hold
his own on High Table at Shrewsbury College,
discussing with Miss Hillyard her paper on Henry
VIII’s divorce and the appropriation of monastic
funds. Sayers’ scholarship found its culmination
in her latter years when she translated Dante’s
Divine Comedy. Wimsey was a Dante scholar
as well, as we see at the outset in Whose
Body? and also in Unnatural Death
(1927).
Wimsey is not conventionally
attractive. In Whose Body? Sayers says of
his appearance, "His long, amiable face looked
as if it had generated spontaneously from his
top hat . . . ." His narrow, rather beaky face
generally wore a supercilious expression, while
his arched and lean nose gave him a parrot-like
profile. He had a receding forehead and a long,
narrow chin, grey eyes with drooping lids, a
wide and flexible mouth, and sleek, flat,
straw-colored hair. While he is interviewing
Harriet at the police station after she has
stood trial for poisoning her lover in Strong
Poison (1930), he says, "I know I’ve got a
silly face, but I can’t help that." To complete
the picture of the typical aristocrat, he wears
a monocle. It is a powerful lens which not only
corrects his sight but is also, as he says in
Whose Body?, " . . jolly useful when you
want to take a good squint at somethin’ and look
like a bally fool all the time." But, he adds,
". . . it don’t do to wear it permanently . . ."
He frequently plays up his silly-ass appearance
to deflect suspicion of his true intentions. At
times, though, people wonder—as does a fellow
club member in "The Unprincipled Affair of the
Practical Joker" (1928)—whether his "incredible
fatuity was the cloak of ignorance or the mask
of the hardened poker player." In Gaudy
Night, he describes his technique to Harriet
in this way, "I’m the professional funny man of
the Foreign Office . . . . Some turn goes wrong
and they send on the patter-comedian to talk the
house into good humour again. I take people out
to lunch and tell them funny stories and work
them up to mellowing point."
To consider Wimsey as a
detective we need to look at his reasons for
detecting and his attitude towards criminals.
First of all he enjoys playing the part,
dressing up with the eye-glass and his specially
made walking stick—as he says in Whose
Body?, "Enter Sherlock Holmes disguised as a
walking gentleman." He also enjoys matching wits
with wrongdoers. In Whose Body?, he
recognises and appreciates the intelligence of
his opponent early on in the investigation,
saying, ". . . we’re up against a
criminal—the criminal—the real artist and
blighter with imagination . . . I’m enjoyin’
this . . ." It is not long before a darker
element of Wimsey’s personality is introduced in
the story, though it is, as he says, "cloaked in
the sacred duty of flippancy," which he calls
"the correct attitude." He goes on to say of the
case, "Here’s a poor old buffer spirited away .
. . such a joke . . . I don’t believe he’d hurt
a fly himself . . . that makes it funnier. D’you
know, Parker, I don’t care frightfully about
this case after all." His mixture of pleasure
and revulsion is summed up later in the novel in
this way: "It’s a hobby . . . excitin’ . . . I
enjoy it . . . I feel as if I oughtn’t to find
it amusin’ but I do." And here lies the crucial
dilemma which he is still trying to come to
terms with fourteen years later in Busman’s
Honeymoon (1937), in which he asks, "If
there is a God or a judgment—what next?"
Throughout his career he
exhibits some very muddled thinking about the
morality of what he is doing. In The
Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club (1928),
he leaves Penberthy in the library to commit
suicide, and in Murder Must Advertise
(1933), he allows Tallboy to walk to his certain
death. He experiences no regrets at committing
either Norman Urquhart or Mary Whittaker to
trial, the former in Strong Poison and
the latter in Unnatural Death, although
he does agonise with Fr. Tredgold in
Unnatural Death over the possibility that
his "interfering" could do worse harm than the
crime he is investigating has already done. He
suffers similar doubts over the case of Frank
Crutchley in Busman’s Honeymoon, to the
point of engaging Sir Impey Biggs to defend
him.
Is he a good detective? In that
he outthinks both the police and the criminals
he must be considered masterly. He has acute
powers of observation, demonstrated most clearly
at the scene of the crime. See his examination
of the body in the bath after Thipps has left
the bathroom in Whose Body?, his
reconstruction of General Fentiman’s last hours
in The Unpleasantness at the Bellona
Club, and his search of the area around
Riddlesdale Lodge in Clouds of Witness
(1926). He does most of his own legwork,
although he does leave some of it to his
manservant Bunter and Chief Inspector Charles
Parker, who says in Whose Body?, "You’ll
never become a professional until you learn to
do a little work." By his own admission he is an
amateur. He solves his cases by deduction,
thought, and intuition, but is not above using
his wealth and position to take shortcuts. He is
able to consult directly with the Commissioner
of the Metropolitan Police and several Chief
Constables, whom he knows personally. In
Clouds of Witness, he even interrupts the
King at dinner in order to speak to the American
ambassador, and in The Nine Tailors
(1934), he makes a direct approach to the
Archbishop of Canterbury.
He respects Parker both for his
biblical knowledge and his detective abilities,
but he treats Inspector Sugg as the incompetent
that he is and frequently mocks him, as he does
with this gibe from Whose Body?: "The
golden mean, Sugg, as Aristotle says, keeps you
from being a golden ass." In Sugg’s case, if
anywhere, the accusation of Wimsey being a snob
is valid, for he taunts the poor man with
allusions which he knows Sugg will not
understand. However, he does show some fairness
to Sugg, saying, upon hearing that Sugg is to
make the arrest in Whose Body?, "He can’t
help being a fool . . . it may do him some good
to be in at the death."
What else do we know of Lord
Peter’s talents and character? Not only is he a
book collector, but he is a literary expert who
can quote from material ranging from the
Psalms and Hymns Ancient and
Modern to Catullus, Shakespeare, Donne,
Dickens, Lewis Carroll, and a host of others. He
wears perfectly tailored clothes, always chosen
to suit the occasion, and he entertains with
panache. He is a fine musician who plays Bach,
Scarlatti, the Beggar’s Opera, and, as
stated in The Unpleasantness at the Bellona
Club, "an odd, noisy and painfully
inharmonious study by a modern composer in the
key of seven sharps." He frequently sings Bach,
notably madrigals, with Harriet in the Oxford
antique shop. He is a fluent linguist, drawing
his facility with French from his mother’s
Delagardie family. He also knows German, which
enabled him to go behind the lines in disguise
in 1917, and Italian, as shown by his ability to
discuss the Abyssinian situation with an Italian
minister in Gaudy Night He is a
connoisseur of food and wines as was Sayers’
husband, Mac Fleming, who wrote Gourmet’s
Book of Food and Drink (1935) under his pen
name Atherton Fleming. He is knowledgeable about
painting (as too was Mac Fleming, who was an
amateur artist), recognising the absence of a
particular tube of paint in The Five Red
Herrings (1931).
He possesses remarkable
physical strength and agility. In "The
Incredible Elopement of Lord Peter Wimsey"
(1931), he spends fourteen weeks during the
winter in primitive conditions in a hamlet high
up in a remote part of the Basque country. He
holds Reggie Pomfret’s wrist in an iron grip in
Gaudy Night, as he does with Farmer
Grimethorpe’s in Clouds of Witness. In
Unnatural Death he swarms up Mrs.
Forrest’s drainpipe. And in Murder Must
Advertise, he knocks down a policeman after
being arrested on the cricket field, trips up
Charles Parker, jumps from the running board of
a police car, races down Whitehall, and dodges
through the traffic around the Cenotaph.
He is experienced in reading
ciphers, which feature prominently in Have
His Carcase (1932) and The Nine
Tailors, and to a lesser extent in
Murder Must Advertise Sayers was a
great enthusiast for crosswords as well. She
made up a number of them for her own amusement,
and also created one for the short story "The
Fascinating Problem of Uncle Meleager’s Will"
(1925).
Lord Peter also shows courage,
risking his life in Whose Body? by
venturing into Freke’s consulting room where he
nearly receives a lethal injection, and in
Unnatural Death, where he nearly drink’s
Mrs. Forrest’s lethal cocktail. In Murder
Must Advertise he shows himself to be a
natural athlete, making a spectacular dive into
a shallow fountain. Later in the same novel, he
also proves to be an excellent cricketer—an
Oxford Blue who reveals his skill as a batsman
in the Pyms-Brotherhood match.
He is a warm person who has a
close relationship with his mother and an easy
friendship with Parker. His most important
relationship, however, is with Bunter, his
manservant, who served as Wimsey’s batman during
the war. They have a bond which goes far beyond
the master/servant relationship. The true
friendship between the two allows manservant to
reprove master when necessary, as in the scene
in Whose Body? where Wimsey wants to
hurry to Lady Swaffham’s lunch without changing
and Bunter says, "Not in those trousers, my
Lord." Wimsey entrusts Bunter with purchasing
interesting lots at sales and he accepts
Bunter’s selection of reading material and book
reviews. From saving Wimsey from the crater at
Caudry in 1918 to rescuing him from the mire at
Grider’s Hole in Clouds of Witness,
Bunter is often called on to help Wimsey out of
a scrape.
In Whose Body? he is
charming to Lady Swaffham and flirts with Mrs.
Tommy Frayle. He shows pleasure in the company
of Pamela Dean in Murder Must Advertise
and Marjorie Phelps in The Unpleasantness at
the Bellona Club. He plays around with the
dangerous Diane de Momerie in Murder Must
Advertise and the even more dangerous Mary
Whittaker in Unnatural Death. And he is
overwhelmed by the beauty of Mrs. Grimethorpe in
Clouds of Witness.
We know that he was badly let
down during the war by his first love, Barbara,
and decided at the time that the idea of
marriage was a washout. But this didn’t prevent
him from engaging in several close amourous
affairs, including the one with the Viennese
singer mentioned in Gaudy Night, and the
one with the mistress in the apartment on the
Avenue Kléber mentioned in Busman’s
Honeymoon However, it is not until he meets
Harriet Vane that he realises the importance of
showing respect for the other person in a
relationship. Part of what drew him to Harriet
was his respect for her intellect. In her
article "Lord Peter Wimsey" (published in the
Dorothy L. Sayers centenary tribute
Encounters with Lord Peter, 1991), critic
Jessica Mann writes that what made Lord Peter
Wimsey attractive "was the fact that he liked
clever women."
Is Lord Peter Wimsey too
perfect to be true? Of course not. He is
humanised by a fault, a weakness which Fr.
Tredgold recognises in Unnatural
Death—that he is much more nervous and
sensitive than people think. It is a condition
which was brought about by the war and asserts
itself at crucial times. He had suffered from
nightmares since he was a child, but after the
war they became full of images from the trenches
and of being buried in the crater at Caudry. The
condition also (as Julian Freke reminds him in
Whose Body?) at times makes it difficult
for him to deal with the crushing weight of his
responsibilities. After the failure of
psychiatric treatment in Whose Body?, he
returns to the Dower House at Denver and sits in
a darkened room until he is saved from the
depths of depression by Bunter. But the
condition continues to recur at particularly
stressful moments, such as when a criminal is
sent to the hangman as a result of one of his
investigations and he is hit with the full
weight of his responsibility for the person’s
death.
Sayers had made a good start on
Thrones, Dominations (the sequel to
Busman’s Honeymoon) in 1936, as we can
tell from her letters to Helen Simpson (with
whom she discussed several points of interest),
but she was distracted from this work by an
invitation to write a play (The Zeal of Thy
House) for the 1937 Canterbury Festival.
After that she wrote no more Wimsey tales apart
from the early wartime Wimsey Papers
(published in The Spectator in 1939/40),
one or two short stories, and a 1954 BBC radio
play entitled "A Tribute to Sherlock Holmes on
the Occasion of his 100th Birthday" in which a
young Wimsey consults Holmes. She told enquirers
during World War II that Wimsey was engaged in
Intelligence work, and she told her friends
Muriel St. Clare Byrne and Barbara Reynolds that
his nephew, Viscount St. George, had been killed
in the Battle of Britain.
Lord Peter Wimsey is still alive and well in
the imaginations of his fans. On October 8th,
1985, The Times of London announced the
Golden Wedding anniversary of Wimsey/Vane in its
Society page. In 1986 The Times published
a letter written by Peter Wimsey to Dorothy L.
Sayers’ friend and biographer Barbara Reynolds
clearing up the confusion over the jewels
sometimes described as the Attenbury diamonds
and other times as the Attenbury emeralds. To
celebrate the 100th birthday of Lord Peter on
November 24th, 1990, a portrait of a 21-year-old
Wimsey was presented to Balliol College. On
accepting it, the Master of Balliol
congratulated the Dorothy L. Sayers Society on
its celebration of "Lord Peter Wimsey, a
graduate of this college."
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