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Yet another sub-genre exploited in recent times is best illustrated by John Carroll’s Catspaw (Apollo Bay, Pascoe Publishing, 1988). A police informer set up by an unscrupulous cop, Don Bartholomew is above all a survivor. The prison scenes early in the novel are well drawn and set the scene for his anti-hero’s later employment as an enforcer for a Sydney drug-ru
In comparison, Ray Mooney’s A Green Light (Melbourne, Penguin, 1988) is far too realistic and raw a story to dwell satisfactorily within the conventions of crime fiction. Mooney began his writing career while serving time in prison. After several plays, his first novel is a chilling portrait of a sociopath whose addiction to violence is stronger than any drug. Joh
It is unfair to expect that all the recent Australian crime titles should be masterpieces. Maybe it is enough that they were published at all, that local publishers noticed the resurgence of the genre and took the chance. As the 1980s draw to a close, opportunities for new writers are booming as never before. Some publishers seem intent on establishing local crime imprints to supplement their overseas lists, while a growing number of American and British houses are taking well-gambled chances on Australian authors. There is one important reason for this renewed growth; there is a market for crime writing by and about Australia.
The sad fact is that for too long Australian crime writing languished in obscurity. Such talents as Waif Wander, Max Afford, Pat Flower, Margot Neville, Sidney Courtier, A.E. Martin and Bant Singer have been out of print for decades and it remains for Australian publishers to discover, as their British and American counterparts have long known, that a lucrative market exists for nostalgia re-releases.
This anthology is an attempt at evaluating Australia ’s past in crime writing and the final choice is as wide-ranging as it is eclectic. Fergus Hume, Arthur Upfield and Carter Brown are musts for such a collection. Each are important historical figures; Waif Wander is equally important although her contribution is only now being realised. Hornung, despite being an Englishman (like Hume) and only a brief visitor, gave the world a major series character and it was in rural Victoria that Raffles embarked on a life of genteel crime.
In selecting the remaining authors, the emphasis has been on talent and entertainment. Randolph Bedford, with his outback Sherlock Holmes, more than fits the bill. So too does A.E. Martin with a truly Australian nice twist. Vince Kelly spent most of his life writing about real crime cases and celebrating the triumphs of the police over the criminal mind. His little known fictional effort is a neat blend of the hard-boiled American school and the British police procedural, coloured by some concerned sociology. Max Afford shows the ability of fine series characters to transcend the seeming gulf between literature and radio – the most popular entertainment forms during the period he gained his most remarkable success.
One regret is that such other important players as Flower, Neville and Courtier, Geraldine Halls, Paul McGuire and Percival Rodda didn’t utilise the short story as a vehicle for their skills. As taking extracts from novels is not a good way to gauge an author’s talents it is not possible to include samples of their writing herein.
This anthology celebrates the pioneering spirit of our literary forebears. Peter Corris, Robert G. Barrett, Tom Howard, Je
For many fans this will be a journey of discovery, a chance to meet and greet those figures that have for too long been relegated to the very edge of the genre’s crowded universe.
WAIF WANDER
It is both encouraging and disheartening to find a talent such as Waif Wander. Encouraging because she is such a fascinating talent, disheartening because so little is known of her. The author of a large number of crime stories written in the latter half of the nineteenth century for the Australian Journal, Waif Wander (together with W.W., another of her pseudonyms) was in reality a Victorian woman by the name of Mary Ellen Fortune. For her output alone, she should be at the forefront of Australian literary history. The quality of her writing also makes her work significant in the evolution of the genre.
The first full-length detective novel written by a woman was The Dead Letter: An American Romance (New York, Beadle & Co, 1867) by Seeley Regester published in 1867. This was the pen-name of Metta Victoria Victor, whose husband, Orville, is amongst the many credited with inventing, in 1867, the ‘dime’ novel or ‘yellowback’, which was the foreru
Fortune was certainly present at the creation of crime fiction. On 2 September 1865, the inaugural issue of The Australian Journal appeared in Melbourne. Until March 1869 the magazine was a weekly at which time it changed to a monthly. The earliest issues featured such series as ‘Adventures of an Australian Mounted Trooper’ and it seems likely these were the work of Fortune although the first definite Waif Wander stories were not included until 1866. In these early years she started ‘The Detective’s Album’ as part of a prolific output which included poems and romantic fiction. ‘The Detectives’ Album’, in most cases featuring Melbourne police detective Mark Sinclair, was a regular and popular part of The Australian Journal well into the 1890s. A collected edition, under the title The Detective’s Album: Recollections of an Australian Police Officer, was published in 1871.
The public Waif Wander was well known to Australian readers. The private Mary Fortune was a mysterious figure who had to wait until the Bicente
Fortune’s autobiographical musings, published in the Australian Journal and dotted through her long career, seem to indicate that she was born in Ireland in the early 1830s, grew up in Canada and emigrated to Victoria in time to witness the gold rush. She worked for the Australian Journal and a few small newspapers; that much is certain. The rest of her life is largely unknown.
A friendship with the wife of a Victorian composer resulted in the only extant letter written by Mrs Fortune (now in Melbourne ’s Latrobe Library). At the time of writing she was tired, ill and near pe