It doesn’t seem to happen much in the movies anymore, I guess because that genre doesn’t appeal to 16-yr-olds, but books and TV are full of them. From Poe’s Dupin and Sherlock Holmes to the present abundant harvest of them, people across the world can read and view them exclusively and only run out because their leisure time has expanded enormously. But why the appeal?
For the sake of discussion I am excluding police detectives though I watch them too, but they stay professional and don’t get quirky, Detective Columbo being an exception. Quirky detectives are private investigators, licensed or not, who refuse to play by the rules and have odd bits to their personalities that often drive away other people, but who are very good at their jobs. They are usually seen in series of books, stories, or shows that are popular with consumers who don’t have to live with them.
I started wondering about this because I recently finished Ripper Street (okay, it’s a police procedural and TV’s Inspector Reid is nowhere near as quirky as the real Reid), I’m as caught up with Psych and White Collar as the USA Network will let me be online, CBS.com won’t let me catch up with Person of Interest legally and I haven’t gotten into Elementary yet so I haven’t kept up, and for no good reason I stopped watching Castle a couple years ago so I’m way behind. Hulu suggested I try Endgame, a Canadian series about an agoraphobic chess Grand Master who solves crimes from his hotel. I’m enjoying it because I’m only four episodes in, but I can see why it lasted only thirteen episodes–the protagonist is as annoying as House without the good will generated by a longtime association with Stephen Fry to carry him.
I’m not sure why I keep coming back for more of this tripe and I’m not asking you to psychoanalyze me. I’m just asking that you psychoanalyze the billion (easily) other people who keep this genre steaming along towards its third century.
But these people are anything but common. They are extraordinary while the cops are well-meaning doofusses. No, not doofusses. They are the Normals that need the brilliant detectives to solve the case.
And you didn’t explain WHY such formulaic claptrap works so well.
Watching an ordinary person solve a problem can be quite dull. Watching an unusual person with a unique point of view solve a problem can be very entertaining.
Disagree. Columbo’s slovenliness, Monk’s paralyzing neuroses, Poirot’s upset stomach are all endearing character traits that we Normals identify with. Not only that, but when the quirk is potentially disabling (a la Monk) it gives the hero something to struggle against besides the villain *du jour – *far better for a continuing story than simply having a crime of the week.
But why? What is it about unusual people that makes us waste our lives an hour at a time watching them solve mysteries when they often (especially Holmes) withhold information that would allow the reader/viewer to solve it himself?
The quirkiness often provides an element of humor (Castle’s childlike enthusiasm, Shawn Spencer’s childlike and childish enthusiasms, Patrick Jane’s ability to deflate pompous pricks and help people who need help, while still enjoying himself, Monk was almost entirely played for laughs, etc, etc.) The light and humorous elements balance out the nastiness and horror of the murders. This goes back to the golden age of detective novels, as the OP pointed out.
And ordinary/normal people are just not as interesting as quirky ones.
But when the quirk is too obviously a gimmick, rather than an organic part of the character, I agree it can be annoying. One of the reason I avoid a lot of cozy mysteries these days – too much gimmick, not enough character and good writing.
I don’t know. Why are things funny? Why are things not funny? Why do we care about the hero surviving to the end but don’t care about the hundreds of people that die in the collateral damage? Why are explosions exciting, and bigger explosions more exciting?
And the big advantage that stories in serial form have is the time to flesh out the characterization, making them seem real because you see more of them every week than you often do your own family.