Analyzing the Detective Genre: Part 1

For about 22 months, I have been working on a side-project outside this blog. Inspired by an e-mail from one of my brothers, I undertook a lengthy review and analysis of the detective genre. (It should be noted that it took me so long to complete this work mostly due to inefficiency and sloth on my part, and not because I observed any scholarly practices of in-depth research.) Having at long last completed my work, I figure I should maximize the utility I get out of it, by sharing it through this blog. As with anything I write, or say, or even sometimes when I pantomime, I got pretty verbose with this. To protect your eyes from too much staring at a screen, I have broken up this piece into multiple sections over multiple post. So keep watching this space as I add on more entries to my highly involved ramblings (or, as I imagine they will say at my inevitable mental competency hearings, building up evidence of my derangement).

Introductory Material-

To give you the best understanding of what inspired my thoughts on detectives and how my thinking evolved, I will share with you the actual e-mail my brother sent me about two years ago. My brother wrote it as a fairly casual epistle, meant to spur a little dialogue, so please remember that you should hold him blameless for the madness that ensued.

He wrote:
Today [my] mind passed briefly onto the Promethean Sherlock Holmes, whose ability to examine only the necessary evidence gave him god-like powers of deduction. Of course, this is very infuriating to everyone who has a more difficult time choosing which details are important.

I was thinking of a less complex alternative to Sherlock: one who has perfect knowledge of a crime because one committed it. In the fictional sense, this is what is true for Arthur Conan Doyle. But this theme--criminal cum detective--has been tried out in the crime drama since then.

What I think is an interesting third alternative to both the supremely powerful Sherlock and the supremely evil Doyle would be a detective--given many of the flaws like pride, ambition, and greed that typify the pop culture detective criminals--who takes on seemingly uncrackable cases, then corrupts the evidence in order to land an easy-to-prosecute suspect with a Law & Order-type turn of events. I imagine that in some episodes this detective would be more motivated by ambition to peg a cold case, but in others s/he'd use it as an evidence dump for committing some personally motivated crimes. The thing writes itself! Lemme' know what you think of this character.

From that seed of inspiration, I begin to think long and hard about a variety of topics connected to the detective genre. Though honestly, I should say that my thoughts weren't so much long as intermittent, and the thinking probably wouldn't have been so hard if I hadn't been drinking so much. The first topic I wanted to address was the variations on the detective archetype he raised in his e-mail. From there I could springboard into a wide range of ideas and make my brother regret that he ever brought up the subject.

Variations on the Detective Character-

To begin the discussion with my brother's ideas, I enjoyed the concept of a Holmes-like detective whose powers of observation border on the supernatural or even divine. There is an undeniable attraction in watching anyone breeze through a seemingly impenetrable case with impossible ease. Audiences get a kick out of that thing, but they can also tire of it quickly. We desire conflict in our drama, something in short supply when no puzzle would truly challenge the hero. As you suggest the obvious solution is to generate conflict between the hero and the other characters as a result of her deductive prowess. This practice certainly can work well and several current crime series use it (e.g. Psych, Monk, and new for people who prefer handsome blond protagonists The Mentalist). I think you could draw more drama from going in a different direction, by pitting the Promethean Sherlock Holmes in conflict with her own powers.

In this scenario, I envision the detective character having some kind of supernatural power, wherein, she can ONLY see the evidence relevant to the mystery and is blind to everything else. Naturally this allows her to solve cases quite easily as she only considers the truly vital information. You could visualize this as the evidence standing out from everything else in its own super-reality, or by having every other detail of the world fade away and become insubstantial. The downside of the detective's powers is, of course, that they severely limit and, to a degree, control the sleuth in question. The supporting characters would be fascinated and awed by her abilities against which she constantly struggles. She might wish to avoid cases, or at least not be overwhelmed by her abilities when she becomes involved in them. This intrigues me as it takes the gift-and-a-curse trope to a new level and it could have some rather odd implications. What happens when the sleuth can't see a piece of evidence that everyone believes is crucial? What if she can see something that has no reasonable connection to the case at hand? What if she has a case with very little physical evidence, is she effectively blind? What if she starts investigating a wide reaching conspiracy and becomes overwhelmed with all of the items of evidence she starts seeing? I see this as a continuing story with more potential and a new way to play the super-detective as a wounded character.

My brother also proposes a character who can solve crimes through some kind of perfect knowledge of the crime, which certainly has potential. It seemed to me that he didn't have many ideas for the character, so with I decided to build off of that with some of my own ideas. I will expand on a possible version of this character later on.

Now this idea about a corrupt Holmes is definitely the best of the ideas my brother put forward. As soon as I read hid description, details began to take shape in my mind. I imagine not a police officer or P.I. but a rising young prosecutor in a very rough city. She has high political aims and step one is cleaning up a major metropolis. Of course, it turns out that the broken system is not ready to lay down and serve as her stepping stone. She doesn't have the resources she thinks she needs to solve her cases. She gets almost no institutional support from her fellow prosecutors and the local police department. When she tries to muscle her way into the circles of power, she gets pushed back and put down. Deciding that she doesn't want to wait for reform to save the city and her career, she sets out to carve her own path. Using her own gifts for deduction, she focuses her prosecution on the suspects she wants to bring in. When needed she can either spin her investigations to trap the suspect or manufacture the evidence or charges needed to get the conviction. She upsets the comfortable and causes all kinds of shock waves through the corridors of power, but the public loves her and that's what she wants. See, he was absolutely right. This character does write itself.

To be continued . . .