The Girl on the Train by Paula
Hawkins (see blog post March 12, 2015) is still at the top of the New York
Times fiction bestseller list. Recently,
I saw that some folks got it mixed up with another mystery/thriller published
around the same time with a similar title, Girl
on a Train by A. J. Waines, which attained bestseller status on the UK and
Australia Kindle charts (http://awaines.blogspot.com/p/girl-on-train.html).
Curious, I read the Waines novel for
comparison’s sake, and shortly after I read Agatha Christie’s Dead Man’s Folly, which I had seen on
PBS’s Masterpiece Mystery, but really
couldn’t remember very well.
Comparisons among the three got me
thinking about what makes a good potboiler.
A potboiler is a work created for
entertainment primarily to make money, not for artistic purposes. But, of course, even the cheapest forms of
entertainment require some artistry and, I would argue, often embody or represent
a serious purpose. Popular works can
tell us something about the public psyche at the time and may even raise
serious social and/or philosophical issues.
The detective story, for example, came of
age in the 19th century at a time when there was public anxiety and
philosophical inquiry concerning human nature.
Are we primarily rational beings, or are we fundamentally irrational
creatures with a thin veneer of rational appearance masking our underlying
penchant for hostility, aggression, violence, sex, and power? Gothic fiction of the 18th century
could be viewed as an expression of social anxiety over, not only irrational
human nature, but also destructive forces in the universe beyond our
control. The detective story serves to
reassure us that the use of our rational powers can overcome those forces and
restore order to our world.
Most detective stories begin with
ordinary, familiar, seemingly innocent reality.
The crime, usually of a violent nature, usually murder (because death is
our greatest anxiety), disrupts the rational order, creating a sense of chaos,
confusion, and fear, not to mention mystery.
It takes the careful, methodical, reasoned calculation of the controlled
and rational detective to solve the mystery and restore order.
It struck me that all three of these novels
raise questions about the power of disinterested logic and rationality as means
to truth, and show how observation, intuition and, in the case of both Train novels, irrational passion and
even neurosis can serve as means to truth.
As in the typical detective story, Girl on a Train begins with familiar
reality, a young woman on a commuter train.
Her seatmate, however, is nervous and agitated enough to draw attention
to herself. Anna tries to work, but is
continually distracted by the behavior of her nervous seatmate. At one point they engage in brief
conversation in which the seatmate discovers Anna is a freelance journalist who
has done investigative reporting. No
doubt that is why, when she suddenly deboards the train, she gives Anna a
desperate look, which the reporter interprets as a plea for help.
Shortly afterwards, the train
unexpectedly halts. It turns out the
young seatmate has presumably committed suicide by stepping in front of the
train as it departs the station, and, later, it turns out she has left a clue
in Anna’s purse. ‘The reporter doesn’t
believe it’s suicide and sets out to follow a trail of clues to unravel the
mystery of her seatmate’s death.
Amazingly, both The Girl on the Train and Girl
on a Train feature a character named Anna and use a shifting point of view,
among Rachel, Megan and Anna in The Girl
on the Train; and between Anna and Elly in Girl on a Train.
As in The
Girl on the Train, the “detective” in Girl
on a Train (Anna) is a female witness rather than an official
detective. Her experience as a freelance
investigative journalist lends her some plausibility as a “detective”; however,
as in The Girl on the Train, she
seems irrationally driven to solve the mystery and takes some bizarre risks in
the process.
In Dead
Man’s Folly, the detective is the renowned Hercule Poirot, who receives a
strange call from a friend (who is also a murder mystery novelist) to attend an
event at an estate because the novelist believes something is not right, though
she can’t put her finger on anything definite.
The familiar Agatha Christie pattern unfolds, as a murder occurs and
Poirot must rely on his unusual powers of observation and ability to put
seemingly unrelated puzzle pieces together to make sense of what seems to be an
impenetrable mystery involving numerous suspects.
Unlike the witnesses in the two Train novels Hercule Poirot is an
experienced private detective who is driven more by intellectual curiosity than
irrational compulsions. (It is notable that the “irrational” witnesses are
women whereas the disinterested detective is a man.) However, Poirot does not
follow a strict path of ratiocination.
He relies as much on observation of minute details and intuition as on logic
and rationality.
Thus, unlike the formulaic detective
story in which irrational disorder is defeated by the power of reason alone,
all three of these novels show how less rational, even irrational, processes
can lead to truth.
Regardless, a good detective potboiler
relies heavily on, first, mystery, suspense, and the sense of an ominous threat
in the world; second, a relentless “detective,” who leaves no stone unturned in
his or her pursuit of truth; and, third, compelling characters with their own
personal dramas. In The Girl on the Train the female witness is driven by her own
personal drama; in Girl on a Train
the female reporter is sucked in to the victim’s personal drama; and in Dead Man’s Folly, Poirot himself is
compelling in his eccentricity and all the suspects have their own personal
dramas, which make them suspicious, and which makes one of them commit murder.
All three of these novels also rely on
far-fetched situations, unlikely coincidences (not to mention behaviors), and
highly implausible circumstances. The Girl on the Train and Dead Man’s Folly are well crafted enough
to engage the reader in a “suspension of disbelief,” whereas Girl on a Train is clumsily written in
places and leaves too many loose ends to keep the reader from frequent eye
rolls. It’s entertaining enough, but
doesn’t display the artistry that draws the reader in and makes us believe an unlikely plot.
So, in addition to mystery, suspense, a
relentless detective, and compelling characters, a good detective potboiler
needs to vary the traditional formula, make us believe the unbelievable, and
offer some serious philosophical, psychological, or social issues for us to chew on.
