A Good Old Fashioned Mystery: The September Society

So sorry to keep you waiting readers, as I only started this book last Tuesday, I was racing to finish it in time to tell you about it. Thankfully, it was a generally quick read, which was one of its many merits.

So, what did I read this week? The September Society, by the Agatha Award nominated author, Charles Finch. This book hasn’t been on my shelf very long—I got it as a gift for Christmas, in fact—however the cover was simply too intriguing to resist (readers, you know how I am about covers). Anyway, I picked it up as soon as I finished my previous book, and I certainly wasn’t disappointed—though I will say, as with most books I read, I unfortunately do have some complaints. But hey, you guys wouldn’t check in with me if I didn’t tell you both the good and the bad.

But let’s start with the good. First of all, Charles Finch is no writing slouch (though I’d venture to say he’s a tad long winded). The language used in the book was sophisticated enough to be appropriate for the setting, and to teach me a few words, actually, while not, I think, leaving the average reader in the dust. He includes long descriptions of the setting that really give the reader a feel for the atmosphere, which was helpful to me especially because I’ve never been to London or Oxford, where much of the book takes place.

As one of the reviews on the back of the book mentions, Finch also does a good job placing the reader in Victorian England, where the book takes place—yes, I mentioned he puts you in the place, but I also thought he did a particularly good job setting up the time as well. What I most liked about that, actually, was that he didn’t overdo it. Yes, he lets the reader know that they’re not in New York City 2013, however he doesn’t do so to the detriment of relatability. The characters and their situations are still, for the most part, accessible, and he doesn’t purposely confuse the reader with irrelevant time period specific information.

Another thing I must commend Finch on, and it’s actually something I think is often overlooked but, in my opinion, very important to the busy reader, was his ability to break up the book into appropriately sized chapters. I feel like I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, but his chapter lengths were perhaps the most perfect I’ve ever had the pleasure to read. Yup, I know, chapter length—not exactly the most riveting, passionate reason to drop everything and read a book—“do you hear this girl? She’s a lunatic. Rambling on about chapter length or some other boring rubbish! What a loon.”—but I’m telling you, it’s important. It made it so much easier for me to read the book throughout my busy day because I could customize how much I wanted to read based on the time I had, without having to stop in the middle of something important. You know how that is too—don’t deny it just because you already called me a loon—you hate opening up your book to start reading again and realizing “oh crap, I have to read that whole part over again because I don’t remember exactly what was going on and if I don’t reread it I’m going to miss something.” Yup, you’re a loon too. I mean, maybe I’m the only one who has that problem, but I don’t think so.

So anyway, moving on before I really do start to sound crazy—“this girl again. Having conversations with herself and everything…oh wait, I guess I’m doing it again…oops”—what else can I tell you about The September Society? Well to transition from good to bad, let me tell you something that I both liked and disliked about this book. I’m sure I’m not the first to notice, this is a very Sherlock Holmes-esque mystery novel. As only a recent Holmes reader, I don’t really have any particulars to share with you besides the general tone and feeling of the book. It tends toward the practical rather than the fantastic and emotional—though I’m sure Holmes himself would still find it too “romantic”—and at times it can be downright sparse. Now, this does make for a quicker, more practical mystery read—just as Holmes is—however, sometimes I like more of that human element. To be fair, Finch does try to include that, however I just felt he fell short in that department. And where Sherlock Holmes is a peculiar and interesting enough character to liven up the otherwise spare storytelling, unfortunately I found Lenox (the main character here) to be a little too dull and average to make up for the lack of drama in the story itself. Is that to say that The September Society read’s like the most boring of police reports? Certainly not. For one thing Finch has woven quite the complicated web of secret societies and identities and intrigue. However, I personally prefer crazier characters.

Another thing I both liked and disliked was the setting. As I mentioned earlier, Finch includes long descriptions of the places Lenox visits, especially long descriptions of Oxford and its traditions. Notice how many times I’ve said the word “long” when talking about these descriptions. Yeah, because they’re long. So long, in fact, that sometimes I found myself just wanting to skip them. I mean, I’m all for learning new things—especially historical things—but sometimes this stuff just got in the way. I mean, it was definitely not out of character for Lenox to go on and on about his old school and the descriptions were usually well placed where they weren’t really, physically getting in the way. But I just found myself wanting to get back to the mystery rather than learn about each and every hall, common, and alley of Oxford.

In relation to that, though I said that the book was generally quick read, I was again careful with my wording. I put the word “generally” in there for a reason. Because yes, the language of the book made it a breeze to read, and when things were happening, or there was a good deal of dialogue, you cruised right through. Also, back to those chapters again, you were never overwhelmed by the text because it was broken up so nicely. However, there are long stretches where Lenox really isn’t doing much of anything besides mooning over his, slightly out of place, romantic interest, and going over the case again and again in his head, trying to figure it out. As far as Lenox’s solving of the case, this really doesn’t move very quickly. And he spends a lot of that time eating, traveling, talking to people who are irrelevant to this particular case, and just generally not doing his detective duties. I mean, I understand that Finch is trying to set up a character here—I believe, based on the fact that there are approximately three books out featuring him, that Finch intends Lenox to be a recurring figure in mystery fiction. I get that, and I get that he needs to set Lenox up so that there is an overarching narrative for Lenox himself. Unfortunately, I found that set up distracting to this story—especially since the rest was so practical. You have the practical detective work and case solving broken up by Lenox’s daydreams of Lady Jane Gray and the marital problems of his doctor partner, McConnell, and while they should be intriguing bits of character development they are, again, for lack of a better word, more distracting than anything else because these forays into character just seem so out of place with the utilitarian tone of the rest of the book.

And again, that sparse tone caused yet another problem because of the sheer amount of characters involved in this story. As I mentioned above, the case Lenox finds himself working on is complex, however I couldn’t help but wonder if some of that complexity was created simply by the vast number of people involved in this story, some of them perhaps not quite useful. I understand that there has to be a certain level of confusion for a mystery to be a mystery, but at times I found myself completely lost in a sea of names. Now, I will take on part of the responsibility for this confusion because I think it may have been easier to follow had I had previous knowledge of Finch’s regular characters—he does, after all, have another book where he introduces Lenox and his crew of friends and allies. I think I would have had an easier time of it had I not had to be introduced to them as well as the players in this particular case. I will, however, still say that it was a tad annoying to be going back in the book to remember who people were, and constantly wondering who was important and who wasn’t.

Those negatives stated, I still think this was an overall good read. Finch obviously knows his stuff when it comes to Oxford, and did well keeping the reader engaged, with twists and turns along the way, in a case that was quite complicated. That, paired with the, now probably infamous, chapter length that I was so nutty about and you’ve got a solid book worthy of your shelf. As a sidenote though—just as I find Sherlock Holmes, this may not be one you need to keep on the shelf after you read it—once the mystery is solved, the writing itself is simply too practical in tone to read over and over and over again without having the aim of solving the mystery.