Whenever people get fed up, whether it’s because of injustice or for some other reason, it can lead to unrest. Of course, not all unrest is violent, or even obvious, but unrest creates an undercurrent of tension and unease. It’s not pleasant to live that way, but it can make for an effective backdrop for a crime novel.
For instance, in Agatha Christie’s One, Two, Buckle My Shoe, we are introduced to Howard Raikes. He’s an activist who opposes the current government, and he’s not the only one. There’s a group of people who want a completely new government. Add to that the underlying tension building because of the coming war (WW II), and it’s not hard to see why there’s unrest in this novel. As the novel opens, Raikes is dating Jane Olivera, niece of banking magnate Alistair Blunt. When Blunt is shot at his dentist’s office, Raikes comes in for his share of suspicion. After all, he’s been fighting against the very type of government that Blunt and his bank support. Hercule Poirot investigates Blunt’s murder and finds that there’s more to it than just Blunt’s politics.
Brian Stoddart’s A Madras Miasma takes place in 1920’s India during the last years of the British Raj. Superintendent Christian ‘Chris’ Le Fanu is a police detective in Madras (now Chennai). One day, the body of a young woman is pulled from the Buckingham Canal. Le Fanu and his assistant, Sergeant Muhammad ‘Habi’ Habibullah, investigate the murder. The victim is identified as an English visitor called Jane Carstairs. It’s not going to be easy to find out who killed her, because it could possibly involve some high-ranking English officers. But Le Fanu and Habi push on with their investigation. The search for the truth takes place in an atmosphere of great unrest. Many Indians resent the British presence, and it doesn’t help matters that some of the British treat the locals with contempt at best. The tension boils over at one point in the novel, and while that isn’t directly the reason for Jane Carstairs’ death, it adds depth to the novel, and it plays its role in the story. I know, fans of Abir Mukherjee’s work; we see that same undercurrent of unrest in those novels, too.
Per Wahlöö and Maj Sjöwall’s The Laughing Policeman is an entry in their ten-novel Martin Beck series. In one plot thread of the novel, a large anti-Vietnam War demonstration takes place at the US Embassy in Stockholm. Things turn ugly, and Martin Beck and his police team are stretched thin as they try to maintain what order they can. It’s a very uneasy climate, and the unrest makes everyone’s job more difficult. So, the police are not best equipped when a terrorist boards a bus and shoots nine people. Martin Beck isn’t so sure, though, that this was an act of terrorism. So, he decides to look more closely at the people who were killed, to see if there might be a more personal motive for murder. It’s not an easy investigation, and it takes place against a backdrop of real unease.
So does Jonothan Cullinane’s Red Herring, set in 1951 Auckland. The local dockworkers – the wharfies – are getting ready to strike, and the atmosphere is very tense. For its part, the government wants this strike ended with no stoppage of work. It doesn’t help matters that many people consider the wharfies to be communists. It’s the time of the ‘red scare,’ so that just adds fuel to the proverbial fire. Against this background, Auckland PI Johnny Molloy gets a new case. U.S. Life and General Insurance Company of California is pursuing an incident of what it considers insurance fraud. One of its policyholders was reported lost at sea in the Bering Strait. But his photo has been taken with the wharfies who are planning the upcoming strike. The company wants Molloy to see if their policyholder is alive and therefore, guilty of fraud. Now, Molloy has to approach the wharfies – no mean feat – and avoid trouble with the government. Molloy meets freelance reporter Caitlin O’Carolan, who turns out to be very good at her job. They start to share information, and together, they find out the truth. The underlying unrest at the docks adds real suspense to the story.
And then there’s Attica Locke’s Black Water Rising, which takes place in 1981 Houston. Jay Porter is a low-rent lawyer with some not-exactly notable clients. He’d like to move up in the world, and he’s hoping to make a better life for himself and his pregnant wife. In one plot thread, he’s approached by his father-in-law, who’s very active with the Brotherhood of Longshoreman (BoL), a Black union. It seems that they’re planning to merge with the International Longshoreman’s Association (ILA) which is a white union. The merger hasn’t happened yet, and not everyone wants it to happen. In fact, some ILA thugs beat up a member of the BoL. If those responsible aren’t caught and punished, the two groups will be at a severe disadvantage. A strike is being planned, and the unions know they’re not going to be successful if there’s disunity among the strikers. Porter knows the mayor of Houston, and the strikers want him to use whatever influence he may have with her to get justice for the man who was attacked. He reluctantly agrees to at least speak with her. In the meantime, he’s also drawn into a murder case. He and his wife rescued a woman in distress, and it seems she was mixed up in killing. So, Porter and his wife are involved, whether or not they want to be. The story is set in a real atmosphere of unrest and unease, and that adds a layer to it.
When people are unhappy with leadership, or with a situation, their discontent can lead to unrest. Unrest does not necessarily lead to violence, but it can make for a tense, uneasy atmosphere. It’s not comfortable in real life, but it can make for an effective backdrop in a crime novel.
*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a Bob Marley song.
Such an interesting post, Margot. Elements like this can really reflect the times in which a book is set and give us a glimpse of a lost world. I’m glad you mentioned the Martin Beck books as they’re some of my favourite and I love the way they cover the societal changes over a period of time.
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Thank you, KBR. I’m glad you thought the post worked. And you have a very good point about books that are set against unrest of some kind. They do give the reader a solid sense of the time and place in which a book is set. I think that gives readers a helpful and interesting backdrop for a story. I agree with you, too, about the Martin Beck series; it’s such a well-written classic crime series! The novels really do show reader so much about what was going on at the time they were written.
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It always interests me how often the fear of “reds” and sinister Russian communists pop up in British vintage crime – the hangover from the Russian Revolution, of course, but also from the home unrest that turned into the General Strike of 1926. In more recent times, a lot of crime fiction is set against the background of the miners’ strike in the mid-80s. In the US till recently, I’d tend to associate civil unrest mostly with Vietnam. These big political upheavals influence culture long after they’re over.
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I think you’re absolutely right, FictionFan. When there is real unrest (like the miners’ strike), that does have a lasting effect. People carry strong feelings one way or another. I know in the US, people still feel strongly about Vietnam, even all these years later. I’m glad you brought up the unrest of the 1920s. That fear of Bolsheviks had a lot of impact. A lot of people think of the ‘red scare’ of the 1950s, and that, of course, was real. But that time during the 1920’s had a real effect on people, too. And when a book is set against that background, it can add to the suspense.
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