Most people believe that it’s wrong to take a life. Many allow for exceptions such as wartime or defending oneself or one’s family, but for the most part, we believe that murder is wrong. With that strong social sanction against murder, it can be hard to have sympathy for someone who’s killed. In crime fiction, it means that the author needs a motive that’s compelling and a killer who’s nuanced enough that readers can see some good in that person. It’s not easy to do, but it can make for a fascinating character as murderer.
Agatha Christie created more than one murderer like that. In Death on the Nile, for instance, Hercule Poirot takes a cruise of the Nile. One of his fellow passengers is Linnet Ridgeway Doyle and her new husband Simon. They’re on their honeymoon, which includes the cruise. On the second night, Linnet is shot. The first suspect is her former best friend Jacqueline ‘Jackie’ De Bellefort. Linnet’s new husband is Jackie’s former fiancé (hence the end of the friendship), so there’s a definite motive. However, it’s soon proved that Jackie could not have committed the crime, so Poirot has to look elsewhere for the murderer. Then there are other murders. When Poiriot finds what’s behind the murders, he does have sympathy for the killer and admits as much. It doesn’t mean he condones what happened (Poirot does not approve of murder). But it does mean he feels for the culprit.
L.R. Wright’s The Suspect begins as eighty-year-old George Wilcox is standing over the body of eighty-five-year-old Carlyle Burke, whom Wilcox has just killed. From the beginning, we know who the murderer is. What we don’t know at first is the motive. As RCMP Staff Sergeant Karl Alberg soon discovers, Wilcox and Burke had known each other for years. When Alberg questions him, Wilcox admits he never liked Burke, but why wait until now to commit murder? As the novel unfolds, Alberg begins to suspect Wilcox, but he doesn’t have direct evidence, and he still can’t find a motive. When he learns why Wilcox killed Burke, the crime makes sense, if I can put it that way. Alberg has sympathy for Wilcox, and the reader is invited to do so as well.
In Louise Penny’s A Fatal Grace (AKA Dead Cold), Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Sûreté du Québec is faced with a puzzling crime. Famous life coach C.C. de Poitiers has recently moved to the small town of Three Pines with her husband and daughter. She soon succeeds at alienating everyone in town, and she does some very hurtful, damaging things. On Boxing Day, C.C. suddenly dies during the traditional local curling match. At first it’s hard to see how she was killed, since the murder was committed more or less in public view. But soon enough, Gamache and his team find out how the crime was committed. As the novel goes on, we find out who was responsible and what the motive was. There’s a lot of sympathy for that person, and Penny writes compassionately about the individual.
Keigo Higashino’s Malice is the story of best-selling novelist Kunihiko Hidaka. One day, his wife, Rie, and his best friend, Osamu Nonoguchi, discover his body. The police are called in, and Inspector Kyoichiro Kaga begins an investigation. As you would expect, he first considers Hidaka’s wife and his best friend. But neither has a motive. What’s more, both of them have solid alibis. This means that Kaga will have to look elsewhere for the killer. And that means reviewing Hidaka’s finances, history, and so on. It takes some time, and it’s a complex mystery. But in the end, Kaga finds out who the killer is and what the motive is. It’s not hard to have some sympathy for this killer, once we know about the events that led up to the murder.
In Dennis Shock’s Murder on Liberty Bay, Lily Pine has recently moved from Ohio to the Pacific Northwest, where she is planning to open a restaurant. Her husband had always wanted to have a restaurant there and, in fact, bought the property before his death. Now, Lily wants to fulfil that dream. One day, she goes to the property to see what’s needed before the place opens. Inside, she finds the body of Clark Robbins. The police are contacted and begin the investigation. While they’re gathering information, the restaurant has to stay closed, so Lily is eager for the police to find the killer as soon as possible. She starts asking questions and finds that more than one person might have wanted the victim dead. In the end, she and the police find the killer. And when we know the whole story, we can have some sympathy for that person.
It’s not easy to inspire sympathy for a fictional killer. After all, murder is a horrible crime. But it can be done. Some authors do it by making the victim(s) very unsympathetic (e.g. Håkan Nesser’s Woman With Birthmark). Others do it by creating a nuanced and complex killer, so that readers can relate to that person. Some authors have other strategies. When it works well, the end result can be a compelling character.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Rolling Stones’ Sympathy For the Devil.
Crime Writer Margot Kinberg 
George is a striking character. Most killers fade from my memory but not George. L.R. Wright showed great skill in creating a killer with whom I have sympathy. He is a rare killer whose regret I found genuine. Wright wrote the ultimate “why” mystery. On the first page we know the killer, the victim and how the murder occurred.
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I agree with you, Bill, that George Wilcox is a memorable character. And you’re right that Wright was very effective at creating a character we can feel for, although he is a killer. The ‘why’ is definitely the key here, and it holds the reader’s attention. It’s not easy to do that, especially when, as you say, we know who the killer is.
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I certainly enjoyed that book by Louise Penny!
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It really is a great book, Becky!
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Yes!
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😃
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You’re right Margot, it can be quite difficult when a murderer verges on the sympathetic. Poirot did struggle I think in Orient Express, and that’s a particularly striking case of where the reader’s sympathies probably also lie with the guilty party and not the victim. However, it’s probably a line that an author has to be very careful walking, because a too sympathetic killer would upend the whole concept of a murder mystery!
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I think you’re quite right, KBR, about …Orient Express. Poirot really does have sympathy for the murderer in that novel, and so does the reader. It’s actually very skillfully done, I think, since most of us have a strong bias against killing. As you say , it’s a bit tricky for the writer. You don’t want your killer to be a mindlessly evil person; then again, murder is a terrible crime. It’s a very delicate balance!
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I do like when the victim ‘deserves’ to be murdered, but the murderer has to also ‘deserve’ to be caught and punished or the reader can be left without that feeling of everything being restored to rightness. Christie was clearly a mistress of the art since it’s another of hers that springs to my mind – the victim and murderer in The Mirror Crack’d. The murderer certainly had good reason for hating the victim, but the victim elicits some sympathy too so that the murder still seems unjust. And follow-up murders remove the sympathy the murderer might have for the first crime. In this one too, Christie deals with the moral ambiguity aspects well by how she ends it, I feel – justice is done.
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That’s a very good example of exactly what I had in mind with this post, FictionFan. We do have sympathy for both the victim and the murderer. Yes,, of course, the murder is, as you say, unjust. At the same time, though, we understand the murderer’s point of view. It’s a nuanced story, and I think Christie did it well. I’m glad you brought that one up. And you make a good point about wanting order to be restored. We want things set right, which means the murderer gets what’s coming, but at the same time, there’s something that feels….right when the victim’s actions lead in some way to the murder, if that makes sense.
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I had sympathy for Jackie all the way through in Death on the Nile until we realise what’s gone on. I thought Mia Farrow played her brilliantly in the 1970s film version.
I think it adds to the thrill and interest of a crime book when you have sympathy for the perpetrator, or at least ‘understand’ his/her predicament. ‘Very’ occasionally you don’t want him or her caught. Which can make you feel quite guilty! I remember not being sorry when the life coach was killed in A Fatal Grace. Which is terrible!
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I know what you mean, Cath about both Jackie in Death on the Nile and CC in A Fatal Grace. When the author makes you feel strongly like that, I think the book is much more engaging. As you say, it adds interest when you see things from the killer’s point of view. And yes, Mia Farrow did an excellent job in that adaptation of Death on the Nile,/i>.
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I do find murderers sympathetic at times and wish they were/are not caught but in Malice I had no sympathy whatsoever for the murderer. I was so glad when the detective finally solved the case and showed the murderer what was going to happen to him/her.
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You make an interesting point, Neeru. When the author does the job well, you can feel some sympathy and at least understand the murderer’s point of view. As for Malice, that’s one of those characters, I think, that you either do have sympathy for, or do not. I don’t think one feels neutral about that person.
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Interesting moral questions! It’s a test of a writer’s abilities to try to bring the reader onside with a view of a crime, I think.
I agree, Wright’s The Suspect was very well done in that respect – a moving and memorable book.
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You make a good point, Moira. It does take a skillful writer to let the reader see another side of a crime. Not all authors can do that well, but Wright certainly did. I thought The Suspect was an excellent book.
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