As many mystery lovers are aware, Edmund Crispin was a pseudonym for composer Bruce Montgomery, best known (to his chronic irritation) for writing the scores to the “Carry On” films – not among the real gems of British cinema. The film on which Professor Gervase Fen has been hired to consult, though, is of rather a different order: it’s a biography of the poet Alexander Pope. But however high-minded the subject-matter, the actual process of making the movie is a grubby business, from the young actresses of dubious morality to the stogie-chomping cameramen, perpetually threatening to strike. And – to Fen’s evident delight – even the showbiz glamour can’t prevent murder from muscling its way onto the scene. 

“Crispin [is] a bright light in the mystery field” – New York Times

“Professor Gervase Fen [is] in noticeably good form” – Times Literary Supplement  

The Sixth Book in the Gervase Fen Series

It’s a naughty world, a tiresome world, a world notably lacking in witty epigrams. In short, it’s a world that is crying out for Gervase Fen, and so he has declared himself a candidate for Parliament, ready to serve the good people of…where was it again? Fen’s political ambitions, though, get just a little sidetracked by the murdered policeman who crops up on the campaign trail, not to mention the escaped (and naked) lunatic who’s convinced he’s Woodrow Wilson. And then there’s the peculiar clergyman and the love-struck pig…

Crispin could never be accused of writing a standard-issue murder mystery, but it’s with his later titles, including most definitely Buried for Pleasure, that he gave full and glorious vent to his antic imagination. That imagination, however, was always disciplined, and at the end, the entire eccentric plot is tidily wrapped up — pig, priest, president, politics, poisoned policeman and all.

“An absolute and unalloyed delight” — New York Times

“Dr. Gervase Fen, that civilised, eccentric, and fiercely analytical sleuth, is one of the key figures of the crime-fiction genre” — Times of London (UK)

The Fifth Book in the Gervase Fen series; first published in 1948

Professor Gervase Fen is happy to step in when his old friend, the headmaster of the exclusive Castrevenford School, needs a guest speaker for the school’s annual Speech Day. (Though the headmaster, it must be said, has his doubts as to whether Fen is “capable of the sustained hypocrisy which the occasion demands.”)

Fen’s happiness, however, turns to positive glee when it becomes clear that his sleuthing skills are needed: Not only has a student at the local girls’ school been trifled with in some unspecified, clearly fiendish fashion, but poison has been swiped from the chemistry department, and two, yes two teachers have been murdered!

Too bad, of course, for the teachers, but for Fen it’s a very good day indeed.

“Shows terrific wit, and a great talent for bringing interesting characters to life…the senile, homicidal bloodhound, Mr. Merrythought, is a masterpiece of canine creation” – The New Yorker

“Delightfully and deviously plotted” – New York Times

The Fourth Book in the Gervase Fen Series; first published in 1947

Hurrah! With the Nazis routed, the British can sing Wagner again. The company assembled in Oxford for the first post-war production of Die Meistersinger is delighted, but their happiness is soured by word that the odious Edwin Shorthouse will be singing a leading role. Nearly everyone in the company has reason to loathe Shorthouse, but who could have had the fiendish ingenuity to kill him in his own locked dressing room?

Answering that question will require a certain finesse, a certain je ne sais quoi, a certain eccentric professor of English Literature with a passion for amateur detecting. Happily, Gervase Fen is on the scene, fresh from his adventures in The Case of the Gilded Fly and Holy Disorders, with his sleuthing skills as sharp as his epigrams.

“A splendidly intricate and superior locked-room mystery” – New York Times

The Second Book in the Gervase Fen series

Gervase Fen – the eccentric Oxford don with a knack for solving “impossible” crimes – made his debut in The Case of the Gilded Fly, which Edmund Crispin (in reality, composer Bruce Montgomery) wrote to win a bet. With Holy Disorders, Crispin’s skills matured, but Fen remains as maddeningly childish as ever, still deliciously fond of his own wit and erudition, and given to quoting Lewis Carroll at inappropriate occasions.

First published in 1945, Holy Disorders takes Fen to the town of Tolnbridge, where he is happily bounding around with a butterfly net until the cathedral organist is murdered, giving Fen the chance to play sleuth.

The man didn’t have an enemy in the world, and even his music was inoffensive: Could he have fallen afoul of a nest of German spies or the local coven of witches, ominously rumored to have been practicing since the 17th century? Tracking down the answer pleases Fen immensely – only the reader will have a better time. This, said the New York Times Book Review, is “Fen at his very best.”

“One of the most literate mystery writers of the 20th century” – Boston Globe

“An absolute must for devotees of cultivated crime fiction” – Kirkus

The First Book in the Gervase Fen Series by “one of the most literate mystery writers of the 20th century” (Boston Globe)

Theater companies are notorious hotbeds of intrigue, and few are more intriguing than the company currently in residence at Oxford University. Center-stage is the beautiful, malicious Yseut – a mediocre actress with a stellar talent for destroying men. Rounding the cast are more than a few of her past and present conquests, and the women who love them. And watching from the wings is Professor Gervase Fen – scholar, wit, and fop extraordinaire – who would infinitely rather solve crimes than expound on English literature. When Yseut is murdered, Fen finally gets his wish.

Though clear kin to Lord Peter Wimsey, Fen is a spectacular original – brilliant, eccentric, and rude, much taken with himself and his splendid yellow raincoat, and given to quoting Lewis Carroll at inappropriate occasions.

Gilded Fly, originally published in 1944, was both Fen’s first outing and the debut of the pseudonymous Crispin (in reality, composer Bruce Montgomery), whom the New York Times once called the heir to “John Dickson Carr … and Groucho Marx.”

“Immensely witty and literate”

- New York Times Book Review

Highly recommended for fans of Dorothy L. Sayers, John Dickson Carr, dry wit, and the intricate plotting of the Golden Age of detective fiction.