Edgar Allan Poe's detective fiction

"Dupin was a very inferior fellow...by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine" - Sherlock Holmes on C. Auguste Dupin

It's interesting that Arthur Conan Doyle chose to have Sherlock Holmes make such a remark in his very first outing. When you compare the Holmes canon to Edgar Allan Poe's C. Auguste Dupin trilogy, the comments come across as a defense mechanism against comparisons between the two detectives. After all, Poe's 'The Murder in the Rue Morgue' first appeared in 1841 - almost fifty years before A Study in Scarlet was published in Beeton's Christmas Annual 1887 - and established a template that Conan Doyle clearly paid close attention to: after all, the narrator of Poe's detective fiction is a prototype-Watson, a loyal companion who is unable to perceive that which, to Dupin, is both obvious and integral. Dupin, meanwhile, is possessed of the kind of analytical genius and cold logic that makes him seem somewhat detached from reality - a description that suits Holmes perfectly as well.

Conan Doyle's debt to Poe is clear - he may have had his character dismiss Dupin, but Conan Doyle certainly wasn't of the same mind, commenting that "each story is a root from which a whole literature has developed...where was the detective story until Poe breathed the breath of life into it?" Yet in popular culture, it is Holmes who has persevered, both in literary terms and as the subject of a great number of adaptations. That isn't much of a surprise - Dupin appeared in only three short stories, whereas Holmes featured in four novels and fifty-six short stories. His popularity became a burden to Conan Doyle - famously, the outcry was so vociferous when the author killed Holmes off that he felt he had no option but to bring him back. He remained shackled to the character throughout his life, unable to expand his literary outlook for the fear of alienating his audience. How he must have envied Poe, a visionary who was effectively responsible for the creation of several genres.

"We existed within ourselves alone"

In 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue,' we're introduced to Dupin by his friend, the unnamed narrator who recounts his exploits, and they're immediately cast in an interesting light - the two live as recluses, having essentially cut off contact with the outside world, concerning themselves with "that infinity of mental excitement which quiet observation can afford." Their attention is captured by a newspaper acoount of the gruesome murders of Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter, Camille, in their own home - the mother having been horribly disfigured, and the daughter strangled and forced up the chimney. The newspaper reports that "a murder so mysterious, and so perplexing in all its particulars, was never before committed in Paris...there is not the shadow of a clue apparent," but of course, Dupin is immediately able to formulate the information into a possible explanation; a visit to the scene of the crime is enough for him to be certain of what took place. Though only an amateur sleuth, he is possessed of a singular brilliance that puts the police force to shame. There is something especially satisfying about Dupin's certainty - in such a narrative, a capacity for failure is not expected; the reader wants to see justice served, and the skill with which Dupin handles things is a wonderful trait.

That said, the conclusion of the story can hardly be described as particularly satisfying - 'the monkey did it' is something of a narrative cop-out that reads as though Poe crafted his unsolvable mystery and then couldn't solve it himself, settling for an ending that eliminates any sense of motive; as critic Hervey Allen wrote, "the moral issue is entirely dodged by making the criminal an ape; thus a double horror was invoked without the necessity of blame." Furthermore, narrative convention dictates that the reader should be able to take the clues presented and arrive at the solution themselves - the twist ending makes it impossible to do so, which has to be considered a failing.

"The atrocity of the murder, the youth and beauty of the victim, and, above all, her previous notoriety, conspired to produce intense excitement in the minds of the sensitive Parisians"

'The Mystery of Marie Roget' is generally considered to be the weakest of the trilogy and, upon reading it, it is easy to see why. The story is obsessed with Dupin's methodology, at the expense of spinning an interesting narrative - the vast majority of the piece is given over to Dupin picking holes in the newspaper accounts of the murder, doing so in a manner that doesn't really rate as entertainment. The deductive brilliance of Dupin has already been established; Poe needn't have gone to such lengths to assure us of the character's genius. Not only that, but the story completely peters out - as soon as a clue worth investigating is discovered, the narrator ceases to recount the case, instead offering a coda that stresses the importance of "truth in detail," a point which is integral to the success of any great detective, but one the audience hardly needs lecturing on any further, considering that the entire raison d'etre of the story is to establish exactly that via the thoroughness of Dupin's methods.

"If it is any point requiring reflection we shall examine it to better purpose in the dark"

The third story in the trilogy, 'The Purloined Letter,' perfectly highlights Dupin's major fault - he is a man of contemplation rather than action, which doesn't make for the most fascinating reading. One of the staples of detective fiction is a sense of adventure - you go into the genre expecting a caper, as it were, whereas Dupin offers a canter at best, being entirely reluctant to leave his own home. Consequently, the stories really aren't that compelling when you compare them to what followed. The narrative of 'The Purloined Letter' essentially amounts to 'Dupin is smarter than the French police force,' and as such merits no further comment - it is a minor work.

One of the costs of pioneering a particular genre is that you rarely get to be the one to perfect it - over time, someone will usually come along and expand upon the original idea with greater success than its initial proponent. Given more time with Dupin, perhaps Poe would have further developed the character and the genre, but he preferred to broaden his scope, which is why he is remembered with such reverence. His horror stories are far superior to the Dupin tales, as is his poetry, but the character still retains a great sense of importance when you consider exactly how significant detective novels and pulp fiction became. The likes of Georges Simenon, Raymond Chandler and Paul Auster have all taken cues from the Dupin trilogy, and it's difficult to imagine Sherlock Holmes existing were it not for Poe.