The Mystery of a Butcher’s Shop – Gladys Mitchell

I’ve been slightly distracted by sink problems over the last 48 hours. Something somewhere is leaking, not in an overly sinister fashion, but persistent enough to be damp and annoying. My father phoned with advice but I’m quite tired and could probably have been more lucid whilst trying to describe what was in front of me. Eventually, and under orders, I checked the washing machine filter – it was clear and clearly not the source of the problem but I ripped off half a fingernail and cut a finger in the process, so for now I’m shoving a pan under the drip and waiting for my mother and a larger wrench to visit soon...

I’m sure Gladys Mitchell never had these problems, and beyond certain that Mrs Bradley wouldn’t have been defeated by plumbing (or by plumbers for that matter). She’s certainly not in the least discomposed by seemingly incomprehensible crimes – fortunately she can apply psychology and clear the muddiest of waters in a way that makes no sense to me whatsoever. It’s infuriating and beguiling in about equal measure; I appreciate the hideous Mrs Bradley with her yellow claw hands, bright cloths, formidable strength, crocodile smile, wonderful voice and unique intelligence but have to reconcile myself to the possibility of having not a clue what’s going on.

‘The Mystery of a Butcher’s Shop’ isn’t too bad in this respect; it’s odd but entertaining (I particularly liked the absent minded vicar with kleptomaniac tendencies) but what I really like about Mitchell is this:

...’She thinks the Church Catechism is immoral.’
‘So do I,’ Said Aubrey feelingly. ‘I can’t stick learning stuff by heart. But what’s her objection?’
‘The bit about your betters. She says the village children are led to believe it means the squire and the people who go fox hunting and the factory owners who pay women about half what they would pay men for doing exactly the same work.’

It goes on for a little bit more in much the same way but what gets me about it is that it was written in 1930 and we’re still fighting the same battle for equal pay now. Mitchell was a prolific writer – she also had a long career as a teacher. She was clearly a woman with ideas and opinions that she wasn’t shy of expressing and compared to her contemporaries (Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers etc) she feels much more subversive. Mrs Bradley does and says outrageous things but crucially she has a career – she doesn’t just stumble on crimes she’s called in to consult and is no Miss Marple who has to conceal her intelligence. I’m so pleased that Vintage have started reprinting these books – there are another three due out in October this year which I look forward to as a welcome post summer/pre Christmas treat.