Not very long ago, I did a blog post on mentoring relationships in crime fiction. Many of them are positive, just as many real-life mentoring relationships are positive. An interesting comment exchange with Kaggsy at Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and FictionFan at FictionFan’s Book Reviews reminded me that there are also plenty of dysfunctional, even toxic, fictional mentoring relationships. And that makes sense, when you consider how much influence a mentor can have.

For instance, in Agatha Christie’s Dead Man’s Folly, detective novelist Ariadne Oliver travels to Nasse House, near the Devon village of Nassecomb, to help with an upcoming fête. Her role will be to design a Murder Hunt competition for the event. Soon, though, she begins to suspect that there’s more going on than it seems. So, she asks her friend, Hercule Poirot, to investigate, and he agrees. On the day of the fête, there’s a real murder; the young girl who’s playing ‘the victim’ in the Murder Hunt is actually killed. Then, Lady Hattie Stubbs, the hostess, goes missing. The police are called in, and Poirot works with them to solve the puzzles. It turns out that some things are not as they seem, and that a not-exactly-healthy mentoring relationship has played a role in what happened.

Beryl Bainbridge’s Harriet Said is the story of a thirteen-year-old unnamed narrator who lives in a small Lancashire town. As the novel begins, she’s waiting for her fourteen-year-old friend Harriet to return from a trip to Wales. Harriet acts as a sort of mentor and is certainly the dominant personality in the friendship. The narrator feels a bit at loose ends while she’s waiting, and strikes up a sort of friendship with middle-aged Peter Biggs. For his part, Biggs is unhappily married and flattered by a young girl’s attention. For her part, the narrator feels the first stirrings of hormones, but doesn’t do anything about it, because she is waiting for direction from Harriet. When Harriet does return, she insists that, instead of any emotional attachment, they should consider Biggs a sort of experience that they’ll log and study. The narrator goes along with that idea, because that’s what Harriet wants. One day, the two girls sneak over to the Biggs place and spy through a window. They see something they shouldn’t, though, and that’s when things begin to spin out of control. The end result is real tragedy, and the story shows the consequences of toxic mentoring.

You might say a similar thing about Patricia Abbott’s Concrete Angel. Eve Moran has always craved things (jewelry, clothes, etc.). And she’s never let anything stop her from getting what she wants, including men; she has a pattern of shoplifting, cheating, lying, and even murder. Through the years, she’s had a toxic relationship with her daughter, Christine, and drawn the girl into her web, so to speak. She’s relied on Christine, and of course, for Christine, Eve is her mother, and that’s a powerful tie. But then, Eve has another child, Ryan. As Ryan begins to go from baby to little boy, Christine sees that he will likely be drawn into the same web that she hasn’t yet been able to escape. Now, she becomes determined to find a way to leave and take Ryan with her, so that he’ll be safe.

Megan Abbott’s Dare Me introduces Beth Cassidy, the undisputed ‘queen bee’ of her high school. Her ‘second in command’ is Addy Hanlon. Both girls are on the school’s cheerleading squad. Everything changes when the school hires a new cheerleading coach, Collette French. Coach French has a way of drawing the girls to her, and all of the girls want to be in her elite group. Addy is welcomed into the group, but Beth is frozen out. Beth is wistful and jealous, and as time goes on, things get more and more tense. It all leads to tragedy, and shows the impact of toxic mentoring relationships.

Gerald Elias’ The Devil’s Trill begins in 1983 New York City. Violin coach Daniel ‘Jack’ Jacobus is attending the Musical Arts Project group’s Carnegie Hall recital for nine-year-old Kamryn Vander, who’s won the group’s Holbrooke Grimsley International Violin competition. Jacobus isn’t a fan of the way the Musical Arts Project group mentors young people. There’s a great deal of pressure and demand for perfection, even in the case of the youngest students. While Jacobus is not lax himself, he thinks that pressure is unhealthy. During the recital, the specially constructed violine that Kamryn Vander used is stolen. And it’s not just any violin. It’s a priceless 18th Century Stradivarius violin that’s three-quarters the size of a standard violin. The insurance company that covers the violin has hired Nathaniel Williams to find it. He, in turn, asks for help from Jacobus, who’s an old friend and former musical partner. Jacobus starts asking questions, but then, there’s a murder, and Jacobus is a possible suspect. Now the search for the violin is even more urgent, and the trail leads all the way to Japan. Among other things, the novel explores the sometimes-toxic nature of musical mentoring.

Of course, most mentorships are not just benign, they’re welcome and beneficial. In some professions, they’re an integral part of orienting new members of the profession. But in some cases (fictional ones, anyway), they aren’t benign at all (right, fans of John Grisham’s The Firm)?

Thanks to Kaggsy and FictionFan for the inspiration! Now, treat yourself to a visit to their blogs; they’re rich in reviews, commentary, and more.

*NOTE: The title of this post is the title of a song by Smokey Robinson.