Gerhard van der Linde, University of South Africa, and Els Wouters, University of Antwerp
A notable aspect of the problem-solving process--the primary task of the literary detective--is the continuous interplay between existing knowledge and knowledge directly related to the case in hand. This article focuses on describing and comparing the investigative approaches of arguably the three most famous literary detectives of the first half of the twentieth century, created respectively by Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Georges Simenon, namely, Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, and Inspector Maigret, with reference to three bodies of knowledge: a body of knowledge existing prior to the investigation, knowledge of the investigative methodology to be used, and case-specific knowledge, gained in the course of the investigation.
Knowledge that the investigator has prior to the investigation includes specialized factual knowledge and/or knowledge gained through previous experience. By drawing on a reservoir of specialized technical knowledge, the investigator is able to identify and interpret concrete data of which the meaning and significance escape his rivals. At the same time, or alternatively, the investigator has a mental catalogue, derived from previous investigations, containing information on crimes, criminal types, patterns of behavior and so on.
Confronted with a set of events for which he has to find a rational explanation, the detective could use this body of knowledge as basis for a kind of encyclopedia, in which phenomena are grouped, annotated, and contextualized, and for a "dictionary" which enables him to interpret certain gestures and other observable phenomena; [1] or, through analogical thinking, to anticipate or interpret certain actions or events; to typify a suspect or clarify the profile of the victim; or to open up a line of investigation based on a technical understanding of particular data. In this respect, the investigator resembles a scientist who, upon observing a set of unexplained phenomena, first of all tries to explain it in terms of knowledge already at his disposal. The scientist works from the observed phenomena to its possible causes. If he succeeds in finding a readily available explanation that adequately accounts for these phenomena, further investigation becomes superfluous. Only if such an explanation cannot be found, or if a readily available explanation is found inadequate, do the phenomena become a problem worthy of further investigation. The search for a solution to the problem is continued by advancing conjectures that the investigator attempts to refute in view of the available data, until a solution is found that can stand up to critical scrutiny. In the process of looking for a satisfactory explanation, the investigator makes use both of a first body of knowledge concerning phenomena similar to those constituting the problem [2] and a second body of knowledge related to the methodology accepted in the discipline concerned. [3]
The detective usually cannot simply apply existing explanations to the case in hand in order to arrive at a solution, inasmuch as each case presents a new problem, involving different persons and events. Yet, knowledge gained from previous cases could facilitate the identification of clues and assist the detective in finding the correct lines of investigation, especially where problems are generically related. The nature of the problem remains basically constant, in that it always involves identifying the perpetrator of a crime, so that the investigative method of a particular detective does not change significantly from case to case.
The scientific process is largely conventionalized; it starts with the unambiguous formulation of a problem that can be solved with the "available methods of scientific inquiry," moves through the formulation and testing of one or more possible solutions, and culminates in the presentation of a solution that can be confirmed at least provisionally. [4] Similarly, the methodology to be used by the detective usually follows a basic pattern: once the basic facts of the problem are known, the detective systematically interviews and interrogates those involved, searches for and follows leads, regularly reviews the case up to that point, and puts forward hypotheses for the solution. [5] While scientists may to some extent exhibit different "styles," without deviating significantly from acknowledged methods, [6] much of the interest of different literary detectives lies in their peculiarities and idiosyncrasies and in their individual approaches to an investigation.[7] It seems fair to say that each of the more interesting literary detectives has a distinctive style of investigation that remains more or less consistent.
In the course of the investigation, a third body of knowledge develops, namely, the facts, observations, impressions, and perceptions collected by means of the various elements of the detective's method. These expand, illuminate, and sometimes modify the facts initially communicated to the investigator, which at first set in motion the investigation. The investigator often uses technical expertise and past experience in developing this third body of knowledge. Moving from the effect--the crime--to its possible causes, he identifies the suspect who in terms of the available evidence seems most likely to be the culprit. [8] The evidence often includes indications as to whether the likely culprit had the means and the opportunity to perpetrate the crime, whether there is a plausible motive, and whether the crime fits the "profile" of the suspect. [9]
The process of collecting evidence and of identifying and/or capturing a (probable) culprit carries most of the narrative interest in the detective story. There is usually no definite set of criteria that can be used to identify the culprit, in that various characters may seem to have a strong motive for committing the crime; more than one may have had both the means and the opportunity; circumstantial evidence may implicate several suspects; even material evidence may not immediately point in the right direction. The selection of a culprit from among the various possibilities can be based on some decisive piece of evidence, or even on an intuitive guess, a hunch. In stories that present a direct linear relationship between cause and effect, the evidence incriminating the culprit is clear-cut and incontrovertible. Further along the continuum, the process of reasoning and/or intuition that led to the solution may seem rather fuzzy, and the available evidence somewhat inconclusive, even though the reader is left with a sense of closure; at the other end of the continuum lie narratives in which the evidence remains wholly inconclusive, resulting in either a dubious solution or an open ending.[10] The texts discussed here fall into the first two categories.
Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-1930) started writing fiction in the leisure time resulting from his lack of success as a medical practitioner. While he took his other fiction much more seriously, his fame as a writer chiefly rests on the creation of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, beginning with A Study in Scarlet, first published in the 1887 edition of Beeton's Christmas Annual.[11]
The adventures of Sherlock Holmes present a nearly perfect fit between technical expertise, experience, investigative method, and the investigation itself. The stories assume a direct linear relationship between cause and effect. That applies to the relationship between evidence and the identity of the culprit as well as to phenomena observed by Holmes. The detective's reasoning is underpinned by two laws: firstly, a law that states that a particular cause is inevitably and invariably followed by the same effect; and secondly, a law that states that for each effect, there can be only one cause. These laws are presented as valid both for observed phenomena and for human behavior. On the basis of these laws, Holmes formulates rules, according to which observed phenomenon p always has a meaning s, where if p remains the same, s also does not change. The inferences to be made from observed phenomena are conventionalized: smoke always indicates fire; footsteps always indicate the presence of the criminal; a tattoo indicates that the person has spent time in China; and so on. These inferences are offered with absolute certainty, and in many instances, to the amazement of Holmes's audience, with the nonchalance of the virtuoso always aware of his own bravura: "I observe from your forefinger that you make your own cigarettes." [12] Doyle never misses an opportunity to confirm his detective's superiority. [13]
While his seemingly infallible powers of observation and reasoning enable him to make the right connections between observed phenomena and generalized laws, Holmes also draws on a body of specialized factual knowledge, purposefully accumulated: "'You see,' he explained, 'I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge that might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things, so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools that may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order.'" [14]
Holmes concentrates on concrete, material data. It is part of his approach not to neglect the smallest particular, and therefore, not to form premature hypotheses. Careful consideration of all material data as well as an uncanny ability to identify key elements allow him to uncover the logic underlying the available facts, which is often underpinned by the general laws beforehand known to him. On this basis, a linear chain of reasoning leads directly to the solution. In the linear deterministic world of his investigations, from which "a dialogical search for truth" is excluded, [15] there can only be a single path to the solution, which makes it essential that the correct data be identified as relevant. Once the relevant material data have been identified, the unraveling of the puzzle follows inevitably.
This is possible because Holmes operates within an order governed by an all-embracing determinism. The world in which Holmes performs his investigations is presented as inherently coherent and consistent, even mechanistically predictable, with the result that all particulars work together to create a sense of wholeness. It is therefore not surprising that he often adopts the principle of pars pro toto: once material data that relate to the criminal have been discovered, it is simply a matter of time before the criminal himself is identified, as such data provide an adequate basis for Holmes to infer a sufficiently clear profile of the culprit. Apparently insignificant details enable Holmes to compile a profile of the suspect, unerringly and to the astonishment of his audience. In the words of Rosemary Jann: "Holmes's success in making 'trifles' … reveal essences rests on the fact that he is presumed to be detecting a natural and transcendent order whose determinism is so all-embracing that even the smallest details signify the whole." [16] For example, in The Sign of Four, Watson shows Holmes a watch so that the detective can offer "an opinion upon the character or habits of the late owner." [17] After observing the watch, Holmes astounds Watson by offering a detailed and accurate profile of his brother, and then identifies the particulars of the watch that enabled him to make such inferences. [18] In this instance, by his own confession, Holmes "could only say what was the balance of probability" (SoF 19), that is, he applied abductive reasoning by offering a conjecture representing a possibility that can be calculated in terms of probability. [19]
Holmes's approach is always strictly logical and systematic. Thanks to his powers of observation and the extensive body of specialized knowledge at his disposal, he can realize the importance of details that completely escape the official police. From then on, the complete harmony between his intellect and the world he investigates ensures reciprocal affirmation: the logical coherence he uncovers in observable data and events affirms the validity of his rationalist approach; the method he adopts affirms the consistent orderliness of the world.
Holmes's logical, systematic approach and use of technical knowledge support his claims to scientism, clothing his investigations with what Van Dover calls an "air of science." [20] This approach occasionally provokes criticism from his audience, but the criticism validates rather than undermines his position: "Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and exact knowledge." [21]
Viewed together with Holmes's near infallibility, this points to the ideological basis of these stories, namely, the belief in the attainability of incontrovertible, objectively verifiable truths, and a naively optimistic belief in the capacity of a "scientific" approach grounded in "pure reason" to uncover those truths. Holmes is presented as a "perfect reasoning and observing machine," [22] driven by the "passion for definite and exact knowledge." In the quest for truth and knowledge, "pure" reason ought not to be contaminated by the sexual and the feminine, which, in the world of Sherlock Holmes, belong to a lower realm: the world of instincts and disorder. This explains Holmes's asexual and often misogynistic nature. [23] As the servant of law and order, he is the product and protector of a patriarchal system predicated on the dualism of mind and body. All elements in the system are subjected to totalizing reason, which in turn serves to perpetuate the system itself. Even Holmes's idiosyncrasies and bohemian tendencies, such as smoking, use of drugs, and violin playing are presented as mere by-products of his superior intellect, instead of subverting or offering lines of escape from the "purely rational." [24]
Hercule Poirot is the most famous creation of Agatha Christie (1890-1976). She introduced the little Belgian detective in her first novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1925), and thereafter produced a steady stream of novels, probably reaching her peak during the 1930s and 1940s. While Doyle's detective stories are completely dominated by Holmes, Christie focused on manipulating the crime puzzle, creating a number of detective figures besides Poirot, and even offering a detective novel without a detective, Ten Little Niggers. [25]
Like Holmes, Poirot attaches great importance to material evidence, although spectacular readings of observable data do not play such a decisive part in his investigations. The little Belgian collects observable data as well as information about the people under investigation, such as their past histories and their relationships with one another, both overt and secret. While Holmes rarely, if ever, penetrates beneath the surface of actions and behavior, lacking real interest in the personalities of suspects, such as they are, his Belgian colleague is capable of finding a solution by uncovering hidden motives or secret emotional connections. Although the suspects remain little more than figures in a puzzle, this approach indicates that the notion of causality represented by Poirot is less linear and simplistic than Holmes's, in that it covers a wider range of possible causal factors. In the words of Ernst Bloch: "Another interesting aspect … is the change of method determined by society as a whole which the respective model detectives employ in gathering and interpreting unconventional clues…. Holmes, fin de siècle, utilizes the scientific-inductive method…. Agatha Christie's character, Hercule Poirot, on the other hand, a product of less rational times, no longer stakes his 'little grey cells' on the inductive card, but instead intuits the totality of the case in accordance with the increasingly irrational intellectual trends of late bourgeois society. Thus Bergson and totality theory have triumphed over J. S. Mill and the mere aggregation of particulars in the realm of the detective novel as well." [26]
One has to agree that Poirot looks at the case as a whole, examining its ramifications, whereas Holmes generally focuses on a "mere aggregation of particulars," on an analysis of specific particulars, yet Bloch overstates the difference between the two detectives. Poirot's method, far from being irrational in any way, is still very much optimistically rationalist, and far removed from a genuinely intuitive approach.
In addition to his adoption of a more holistic approach, the number of possible suspects Poirot has to consider is greater than those in a typical Holmes case, with the result that his investigations are substantially more complicated. In a typical Holmes investigation, the aspects to be examined are quite limited, and the super-sleuth infallibly homes in on the key material data, which lead directly to a solution. By contrast, the data that Poirot collects often point in different directions, leading him to formulate various hypotheses in the course of the investigation, based on the evidence available at that point. Some of the hypotheses have to be discarded for lack of evidence, or because more satisfactory explanations are found, or simply because they are found to rest on false clues. For example, in the ABC Murders, the letters ABC misleadingly seem to point towards Alexander Bonaparte as the prime suspect. As the detective's alter ego, the reader follows him on each false scent, without necessarily being able to anticipate the solution or to grasp the detective's reasoning until it is explained at the end. By considering multiple causal factors and working with falsifiable hypotheses, Poirot is closer to actual scientific practice than the ostentatiously scientific Holmes.
Poirot seldom makes use of specialized technical knowledge, yet he does occasionally draw on a reservoir of factual knowledge, for instance, about events or previous experiences that help to throw light on the case in hand.
Poirot resembles Holmes in his attention to minute detail. Doyle uses such detail as a pretext for Holmes to demonstrate his powers of observation and his ability to move directly from the accurate identification of key material data to a solution. For Christie's detective, attention to apparently insignificant particulars is part of the process of putting together a coherent picture, a line of logical reasoning; of identifying elements that will provide the key to a solution, by pointing him in the right direction. The significance of these details is often not immediately apparent, but only emerges as other evidence becomes available and the picture of the case unfolds: "Voyons! One fact leads to another--so we continue. Does the new fit in with that? À merveille! Good! We can proceed. The next little fact--no! Ah, that is curious! There is something missing--a link in the chain that is not there. We examine. We search. And that curious little fact, that possibly paltry little detail that will not tally, we put it here!… It is significant! It is tremendous!" [27]
A similar investigative pattern is found in The Hound of the Baskervilles: "Setting aside the whole grim story of Sir Charles's death, we had a line of inexplicable incidents all within the limits of two days…. Holmes sat in silence in the cab as we drove back to Baker Street, and I knew from his drawn brows and keen face that his mind, like my own, was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into which all these strange and apparently disconnected episodes could be fitted" (THB 61-62).
When Holmes finally moves toward the solution, he confirms that his intention, as is the case with Poirot, is to arrive at wholeness and coherence: "'Our case becomes rounded off, and difficulty after difficulty thins away in front of us,' said Holmes as we stood waiting for the arrival of the express from town. 'I shall soon be in the position of being able to put into a single connected narrative one of the most singular and sensational crimes of modern times'" (THB 162).
The overview of the investigation is a standard feature of the traditional detective novel. Irrespective of how Poirot discovers the significance of such particulars, that "single connected narrative" in which the detective explains his reasoning always indicates the systematic collection and logical assessment of data, not merely inspired guesswork and intuition. Apart from revealing the identity of the culprit to Poirot's audience, that is, to the persons involved in the case, and, hence, to the reader, this overview has the function of tidying up all loose ends, making the investigation seem much neater in retrospect than it appeared while in progress. This resembles the relationship between the published findings of scientific research and the process that produced it: "We have a habit in writing articles published in scientific journals to make the work as finished as possible, to cover up all the tracks, to not worry about the blind alleys or to describe how you had the wrong idea first, and so on." [28]
On the whole, the difference between the approaches of the two detectives resides less in their methods than in the complexity of the problems they have to solve. In the case of Holmes, the problems are fairly simple, the number of possible culprits is quite small, and the number of possible solutions therefore very restricted. In such a context, Holmes's method could appear quite adequate, inasmuch as one would not expect the route to a solution in his cases to be overly complicated, even though in some respects the method is rather naive and simplistic. In the Poirot stories, the main problem is fairly clear-cut, but the detective's task is sometimes complicated by the introduction of "secondary puzzles," which may or may not be directly linked to the crime riddle, but which have to be solved for the investigation to advance. [29]
As the number of persons to be investigated is restricted, but much greater than in the typical Holmes story, Poirot has to go through a process of elimination to arrive at the set of suspects, which still leaves him with a considerable number of possibilities to consider. Moreover, since the facts surrounding the crime are uncovered gradually, Poirot sometimes has to revise the "shortlist" of suspects, discarding some of his hypotheses. The space within which both detectives' investigations unfold is often static, like a theatrical setting, and the set of protagonists, once introduced, remains more or less fixed, yet Poirot's investigative processes are more variable, and he has to deal with more variables than Holmes.
The world projected in the Poirot novels is less mechanistic than that presented in the Holmes stories, even though the lines from cause to effect are always clearly drawn. Patterns of causality are less rigidly linear, but still fairly predictable. Like Holmes, Poirot operates from within a stable order, which is never seriously threatened by criminal actions from without nor by unpredictable behavior of those on the inside. Both detectives have an optimistic and unqualified belief in the capacity of rational analysis to uncover objective, incontrovertible truths and to unravel whatever problem comes its way.
The world inhabited by Holmes can be described as that of a smug, arrogant, and quaintly eccentric Victorian gentleman, a privileged member of an Empire "on which the sun never sets." In this respect, Holmes's world reflects its creator, who "was a super-typical Victorian, a bluff Imperialist extrovert." [30] The world of Poirot, the stereotypically eccentric "foreigner," often coincides with that same Empire, and is in any event equally stable and untouched by extra-textual events such as the destruction of the Old Europe and the advent of quantum science. In that sense, the Poirot novels contain a strong element of nostalgia.
The Belgian Georges Simenon (1903-1989), creator of Inspector Maigret, was a prolific writer whose oeuvre is extremely varied. Simenon's best work is contained in what he called his "hard novels, [31] but Maigret is his single most famous creation, recreated on screen, radio, and television. [32] By 1992, sales of his works were said to total 500 million copies in fifty-five languages. [33]
Maigret's seemingly haphazard investigative procedures, fuzzy logic, and intuitive approach offer a completely different alternative to the systematic data collection and rational analysis of Holmes and Poirot. While Holmes and, to a lesser extent, Poirot belong to the privileged classes, Maigret is un homme du peuple, a petit bourgeois. Whereas Holmes and Poirot are presented as highly intelligent, and are accordingly also distinguished from lesser mortals by a tendency toward eccentricity, Maigret is unspectacular, relies quite heavily on common sense and direct investigative experience, rather disdains specialized technical knowledge, and is presented as domesticated and happily married to the homely Madame Maigret. [34]
Maigret has no preconceived ideas, no theoretical assumptions, and the hypotheses he formulates are based on intuitions rather than on logical principles. By contrast to Holmes's method, the data Maigret collects are usually not viewed in terms of predictable causal relationships. Maigret is much less interested in establishing direct causes or even in precise factual information than either of the other two detectives; his primary interest is the "mentality" of the people involved. [35] The material evidence uncovered in the investigative process helps define the factual basis of the investigation, yet seldom contributes directly toward the solution. [36]
The persons he encounters in the course of his investigations are not treated as mere figures in a puzzle. [37] This does not mean that Maigret is given to psychological analysis. He observes human behavior, without entering into analyses or delivering judgment. His preference for a simple, direct approach precludes the search for hidden motives or suppressed desires; observable behavior is noted and interpreted insofar as it contributes towards gaining a complete picture of the case, without being treated as symptomatic of obscure undercurrents or illustrative of the detective's theories. These aspects of his persona are underlined by Simenon's use of a restricted vocabulary and a style devoid of any frills and flourishes.
By contrast to Doyle's and Christie's treatment of the crime puzzle, the problems Maigret investigates are not mere vehicles for validating an investigative method or displaying the detective's superiority. These are human problems, not mere intellectual puzzles. The knowledge Maigret accumulates about behavioral patterns and causal relationships is not systematized; such patterns are used as the basis for inferences without being translated into laws; Maigret does not make any claims for the general validity of his knowledge or of his method, such as it is. His primary objective is neither data collection nor problem solving, but understanding the context from which the crime originated and in which it occurred, as well as the people involved; the physical milieu, the kinds of people involved, their relationships. [38] While Holmes and Poirot use consistent methods to collect data that add up to a neat picture, producing a clear-cut solution, Maigret is concerned with exploring networks of relations surrounding, but not always directly related to, the crime itself, in a manner which consistently displays certain peculiarities, without amounting to a clearly defined method. His general approach is fairly consistent, confirming that the best literary detectives each have a distinctive style of investigation, yet it is far from a preconceived method or set of procedures, applied irrespective of the nature of the case at hand.
In forming a picture of the world surrounding the crime, Maigret assimilates a variety of data. Since he is a policeman, not a "freelance consultant" like Holmes or Poirot, the basic facts of the case, which define the initial problem, usually reach him through official channels. Material data are collected mostly by forensic experts--and, to some extent, also by Maigret himself--at the scene of the crime. These data are then communicated to and considered by him. By moving around and observing, by "sniffing the air" and assimilating impressions, by absorbing the atmosphere through an intuitive manner that resembles the process of osmosis, he gets a feel for the milieu in which the crime took place. [39]
Through informal conversations and by observing patterns of behavior and interaction, Maigret forms an idea of the relationships between the persons who inhabit the world surrounding the victim, and of the human types involved. [40] In a seemingly haphazard manner, Maigret notes and assimilates gestures, mannerisms, vocal inflections, personal appearances, particulars of clothing, "tics" and other signs of nervousness, [41] more often than not without immediately realizing, and usually without deliberately attempting to realize, the meaning and importance of these data. [42]
All these elements help him to situate the victim in a particular context, while information collected by his colleagues, together with facts and perceptions gathered through conversations with persons connected to the victim, help him form a picture of the victim's habits, mannerisms, relationships, and personality type. The guiding assumption is that a thorough understanding of the victim will help him to identify and understand the culprit. [43]
Maigret is primarily concerned with getting a feel for the case, rather than with gaining a systematic overview of its elements. During the "middle phase" of the investigation, when he is collecting data, his manner seems leisurely, even casual. The picture of the case is allowed to emerge, to evolve organically, without any spectacular feats of ratiocination, with a complete absence of dramatic interventions by the detective, even without a direct analysis of material data, allowing his mind to make intuitive connections. [44] At this stage, Maigret is feeling his way, registering, absorbing, without forming clear-cut opinions or formulating hypotheses. [45]
Even though he does not explicitly seek to construct a picture that would form a coherent whole, he often dwells on those elements that do not quite fit, that do not quite ring true, those small pieces that cannot quite be explained satisfactorily in terms of the rest. [46] Often, Maigret cannot immediately pinpoint the incongruity, but merely senses it. [47] In the process, he is looking for a point of least resistance, an entry point from which the enigma can be unraveled. [48] He is looking for a thread, a piste. This string of pieces is not found through deliberate analysis of the available data, but rather sensed and grasped intuitively.
Unlike the detached rationalists Holmes and Poirot, with their optimistic reliance on objective analysis, Maigret enters the world under investigation, moving around in the world surrounding the enigma, living in it, breathing its air. [49] Yet, insofar as he is a strange, disconcerting presence for the inhabitants of that world, he remains on the outside. Though implacably persistent, he does not confront the objects of investigation with the supreme self-confidence displayed by Holmes and Poirot, often presenting his findings and intuitions as tentative and fallible. [50] This attitude is in line with Maigret's lack of a clear-cut method presumably guaranteed to deliver definite and incontrovertible results.
In a Maigret investigation, the move to the solution is seldom easy to pinpoint. The solution itself is not the outcome of a reasoning process that can be explained step by step, as in the case of Poirot and Holmes. [51] More than anything else, Maigret wants to sense the solution: "There was only one valid truth, only one human truth. He had to find it, not by rigorous reasoning, not through a logical reconstruction of the facts, but by sensing it." [52] The concept of a "human truth" suggests that Maigret is looking for a solution that flows organically from the profiles of the personalities involved, their relationships, and the world they inhabit. Once the point of entry, the piste, has emerged, it is a matter of following its ramifications, of accumulating those elements that would allow it to blend with the overall picture. This is not a linear, clearly defined process, even though the solution may already have formed in Maigret's mind. The process is not aimed at confirming a clearly defined hypothesis, although it leads to the validation of an intuition. Therefore, it does not consist of the systematic collection of evidence. On the contrary, the evidential basis for the solution in a typical Maigret investigation is seldom explicitly stated; Maigret does not offer a body of evidence that can be used to justify the solution. In that sense, too, he is the very opposite of his positivistic colleagues, with their insistence on logic and hard evidence. Nevertheless, a Maigret solution is always consistent with the data he has assimilated; it is a plausible result of the cumulative effect of the investigation.
With Maigret, the investigative process is not an intervention from the outside, but tracks the objects of investigation; it evolves organically by following the dynamics of these objects and assimilating the milieu inhabited by them. As a result of Simenon's emphasis on the human element, the elements of the problem and their relationships emerge gradually and are inherently changeable, while in the texts by Conan Doyle and Christie, the focus on crime as a puzzle results in problems consisting of a finite set of elements that remain static in themselves and vis-à-vis one another.
Holmes and Poirot operate in the context of a stable order that functions according to fixed laws. Accordingly, the events they investigate can be explained in terms of direct linear causality, and human behavior in their investigations follows predictable patterns. In such an environment, observable data are interpreted on the basis of generalizations and analogies, derived partly from specialized factual knowledge, and partly from previous investigative experience, while the persons they investigate are treated as figures in a puzzle. The use of specialized knowledge, together with their insistence on the systematic collection and assessment of data and on basing solutions on hard evidence, supports their claims to scientific objectivity. Once all relevant data have been collected and assessed, the evidence in hand is such that the culprit can be identified with absolute certainty, leaving the reader with a sense of closure, made all the more reassuring by the reader's awareness that closure is inevitable. The world of their investigations is typically closed and clearly defined, allowing for a very restricted number of possible solutions, only one of which is clearly correct, resulting in a complete absence of doubt. Both Holmes and Poirot demonstrate the inevitability and transparency of their logic. This affirms the optimistic rationalism underlying their investigations, in terms of which reason, operating in a mechanistic universe, has a virtually infallible capacity for problem solving.
By contrast, while Maigret's private world is typified by bourgeois stability, the worlds he investigates are dynamic and unpredictable. Maigret's investigations develop organically according to the context surrounding the crime, rather than constituting interventions in terms of a preconceived method. Maigret does not rely on material data, and has little interest in specialized technical knowledge. By assimilating a variety of data in a seemingly haphazard fashion, he forms an intuitive grasp of the overall picture. On this basis, he develops a feel for the elements of the case, which often produces a hunch about those particular aspects that should be unraveled in order to find a solution. This does not involve an explicit reasoning process; neither does Maigret offer a body of evidence in support of the solution proposed. A keen and sympathetic observer of human behavior, and a collector of human types, Maigret neither manifests clinical detachment, nor does he make any claims to scientific objectivity, preferring to enter the world surrounding the crime and to penetrate it from within. Despite the apparent haphazardness and fuzziness of his approach, the solutions he offers are always consistent with the overall picture, and emerge naturally from the available evidence.
Contrary to their claims to certainty and scientific objectivity, the inferences made by Holmes and Poirot often do not follow inevitably from the data presented to support them. In that sense, some of the inferences at least are no more than informed guesswork, intrinsically neither more nor less certain than Maigret's intuitions. What makes their investigative methods radically different from Maigret's does not lie in the greater or lesser validity of their findings, but in the rationalist thought system, the mechanistic worldview, and the air of scientism that underpin their investigations.
Footnotes
1. Cf. Umberto Eco, Trattato di semiotica generale (Bologna: Bompiani, 1975) 143-44 and Lector in fabula (Milano: Bompiani, 1983) 37, 77-78.
Return to article
2. Cf. Karl Popper, The Myth of the Framework (London: Routledge, 1994) 96-98 and 156.
Return to article
3. Cf. Stephen David Ross, The Scientific Process (The Hague: Mouton, 1971) 134.
Return to article
4. Carlo Lastrucci, The Scientific Approach: Basic Principles of the Scientific Method (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1967) 55-57, 115.
Return to article
5. Ulrich Sürbaum, Krimi: Eine Analyse der Gattung (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1984) 23, 98.
Return to article
6. Cf. Freeman Dyson, Disturbing the Universe (New York: Harper & Row, 1979) 55-56. See also Abraham Pais, The Genius of Science: A Portrait Gallery (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000) and Lewis Wolpert and Alison Richards, Passionate Minds: The Inner World of Scientists (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997) 161.
Return to article
7.Cf. Ulrike Leonhardt, Mord ist ihr Beruf: Eine Geschichte des Kriminalromans (München: Beck, 1990) 140.
Return to article
8. Cf. Popper 104.
Return to article
9. Cf. Leonhardt 150-51, 162.
Return to article
10. Cf. Gerhard van der Linde, "Rationality and Knowledge in Complex Systems: The Case of Stanislaw Lem," Journal of Literary Studies 12.3 (1996): 275-96.
Return to article
11. Julian Symons, Bloody Murder (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1985) 68.
Return to article
12. Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles (London: John Murray, 1976) 20. Subsequent references are to this edition and are cited parenthetically in the text following the abbreviation THB.
Return to article
13. Cf. Symons 67.
Return to article
14. Arthur Conan Doyle, The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1985) 21.
Return to article
15. Gerhard van der Linde, "Shaped in the Image of Reason: The World According to Sherlock," Diogenes 44.2 (1996): 158.
Return to article
16. Rosemary Jann, "Sherlock Holmes Codes the Social Body," English Literary History 57.3 (1990): 690.
Return to article
17. Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of Four (London: John Murray, 1974) 18. Subsequent references are to this edition and are cited parenthetically in the text following the abbreviation SoF.
Return to article
18. See Els Wouters, "A propos de l'inférence dans le récit policier: Maigret versus Sherlock Holmes," Semiotica 116.2/4 (1997): 220.
Return to article
19. Cf. Nancy Harrowitz, "Il modello del detective: Charles S. Pierce e Edgar A. Poe," Il segno dei tre: Holmes, Dupin, Pierce (Milano: Bompiani, 1983) 220.
Return to article
20. J. K. Van Dover, "From Sherlock Holmes to Dr. Thorndike: Arguments for the Morality of Science," Clues: A Journal of Detection 16.1 (1995): 3.
Return to article
21. Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Illustrated Short Stories (London: Chancellor Press, 1985) 49.
Return to article
22. Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Illustrated Short Stories 3.
Return to article
23. Cf. van der Linde, "Shaped" 160.
Return to article
24. Van der Linde, "Shaped" 165.
Return to article
25. Cf. Symons 91, 118.
Return to article
26. Ernst Bloch, "A Philosophical View of the Detective Novel," Discourse: Berkeley Journal for Theoretical Studies in Media and Culture 2 (1980): 38-40.
Return to article
27. Agatha Christie, The Mysterious Affair at Styles (London: Fontana, 1989) 37-38.
Return to article
28. Richard P. Feynman, "The Development of the Space-Time View of Quantum Electrodynamics," Physics Today 19.8 (1966): 31.
Return to article
29. Sürbaum 79.
Return to article
30. Symons 65.
Return to article
31. Symons 133.
Return to article
32. Symons 135.
Return to article
33. Patrick Marnham, The Man Who Wasn't Maigret: A Portrait of Georges Simenon (London: Bloomsbury, 1992) 2.
Return to article
34. Cf. William K. Stowe, "Simenon, Maigret and Narrative," Journal of Narrative Technique 19.3 (1989): 332.
Return to article
35. Cf. Georges Simenon, Maigret, in Oeuvres Complètes V (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1967) 367.
Return to article
36. Cf. M. W. Jackson, "Maigret's Method," Journal of Value Inquiry 24 (1990): 170.
Return to article
37. Cf. Els Wouters, Maigret: "Je ne déduis jamais" (Liège: Editions du CÉFAL, 1998) 29.
Return to article
38. Gerhard van der Linde, "Mapping the Spaces of Investigation, Spaces and Crossings, ed. Rita Wilson and Carlotta von Maltzan (Frankfurt/M.: Lang, 2001) 70.
Return to article
39. Alois Bertrand, Georges Simenon (Lyon: La manufacture, 1988) 42, and Georges Simenon, Maigret a peur, in Tout Simenon 6 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1989) 582.
Return to article
40. Georges Simenon, Le fou de Bergerac, in Tout Simenon 17 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1991) 469.
Return to article
41. Cf. Georges Simenon, Maigret se trompe, in Oeuvres complètes XVII (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1968) 444.
Return to article
42. Georges Simenon, Les scrupules de Maigret, in Oeuvres complètes XX (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1968) 334.
Return to article
43. Cf. Georges Simenon, Maigret s'amuse, in Tout Simenon 8 (Paris: Presses de la Cité) 782 and Georges Simenon, Monsieur Gallet, décédé, in Tout Simenon 16 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1969) 390.
Return to article
44. Cf. Georges Simenon, Maigret se défend, in Oeuvres complètes XXIII (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1969) 390; Maigret voyage, in Oeuvres complètes XX (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1968) 282; Cécile est morte, in Oeuvres complètes X (Lausanne: Editions Rencontre, 1967) 261.
Return to article
45. Georges Simenon, Maigret à New York, in Tout Simenon 1 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1988) 617.
Return to article
46. Cf. van der Linde, "Mapping the Spaces" 68.
Return to article
47. Georges Simenon, Maigret et l'inspecteur Malgracieux, in Tout Simenon 2 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1988) 12.
Return to article
48. Georges Simenon, Maigret et les témoins récalcitrants, in Tout Simenon 10 (Paris: Presses de la Cité, 1990) 99.
Return to article
49. Cf. Jackson 176.
Return to article
50. Cf. Simenon, Maigret se défend 399-400; Maigret se trompe 356. See also Wouters, "Maigret versus Sherlock Holmes" 225.
Return to article
51. Cf. Wouters, "Maigret versus Sherlock Holmes" 221-22.
Return to article
52. Simenon, Maigret a peur 791 (our translation).
Return to article