The Technique of the Mystery Story | Page 2

It is held by some that the habit of analytical and
synthetical reasoning, requisite to appreciate the solving of these
fictional mysteries, is of value in training the mind to logical and
correct modes of thinking; the practical application of which, in the
everyday affairs of life, proves a valuable asset in the worldly struggle

for success.
According to Mr. H. E. Dudeney, in the "The Canterbury Puzzles":
"There is really a practical utility in puzzle-solving. Regular exercise is
supposed to be as necessary for the brain as for the body, and in both
cases it is not so much what we do as the doing of it, from which we
derive benefit. Albert Smith, in one of his amusing novels, describes a
woman who was convinced that she suffered from 'cobwigs on the
brain.' This may be a very rare complaint, but in a more metaphorical
sense, many of us are very apt to suffer from mental cobwebs, and there
is nothing equal to the solving of puzzles and problems for sweeping
them away. They keep the brain alert, stimulate the imagination and
develop the reasoning faculties. And not only are they useful in this
indirect way, but they often directly help us by teaching us some little
tricks and 'wrinkles' that can be applied in the affairs of life at the most
unexpected times, and in the most unexpected ways."
There is an interesting passage in praise of puzzles, in the quaint letters
of Fitzosborne. Here is an extract: "The ingenious study of making and
solving puzzles is a science undoubtedly of most necessary
acquirement, and deserves to make a part in the meditation of both
sexes. It is an art, indeed, that I would recommend to the
encouragement of both the Universities, as it affords the easiest and
shortest method of conveying some of the most useful principles of
logic. It was the maxim of a very wise prince that 'he who knows not
how to dissemble knows not how to reign;' and I desire you to receive it
as mine, that 'he who knows not how to riddle knows not how to live.'"
But though all this may be true as a vague result, it is not the author's
real purpose. He writes solely for entertainment; presumably the
entertainment of his audience, but often equally for the entertainment of
himself.

1. Inquisition into the Curious is Universal

The detective story, and now we include the whole range of mystery
or riddle stories, is founded on a fundamental human trait,
inquisitiveness. Man is an incarnate interrogation point. The infant's
eyes ask questions before his tongue can do so, and soon the inquiring
eyes are supplemented by a little outstretched hand, trying to satisfy a
curiosity by the sense of touch. But, once having achieved a vocabulary,
however small, he uses it almost entirely to make inquiries, until so
prominent becomes this trait, that his conversation is cut off altogether,
and he is condemned to be visible but not audible.
Attaining further intelligence, his inquiries become more definite and
thoughtful, though no less numerous and eager. He seeks books,
whether in or out of running brooks; he inquires of authorities, or he
reasons out answers for himself, as he grows in body and brain. He
meets a friend in the street, he pours out questions. In his business he
progresses by one question after another. Is he an inventor? He
questions of Nature till he probes her various secrets. Is he a
philosopher? He questions his soul.
To quote Mr. Dudeney again:
"The curious propensity for propounding puzzles is not peculiar to
any race or to any period of history. It is simply innate in every
intelligent man, woman, and child who has ever lived, though it is
always showing itself in different forms; whether the individual be a
Sphinx of Egypt, a Samson of Hebrew lore, an Indian fakir, a Chinese
philosopher, a mahatma of Tibet, or a European mathematician makes
little difference.
"Theologian, scientist, and artisan are perpetually engaged in
attempting to solve puzzles, while every game, sport, and pastime is
built up of problems of greater or less difficulty. The spontaneous
question asked by the child of his parent, by one cyclist of another
while taking a brief rest on a stile, by a cricketer during the luncheon
hour, or by a yachtsman lazily scanning the horizon, is frequently a
problem of considerable difficulty. In short, we are all propounding
puzzles to one another every day of our lives -- without always
knowing it."

An orator makes his best effects by questions. The Book of Job is
impressive largely because it is written in interrogative form.
Many