A review of Good By Stealth by Henrietta Clandon – 240112

John Vahey, a prolific Northern Irish writer, published books under six pseudonyms, including Henrietta Clandon. Good by Stealth originally came out in 1936 and is one of four of Clandon’s works reissued by Dean Street Press, and is reminiscent, without the twist, of Richard Hull’s 1934 debut, The Murder of my Aunt. There is no murder, no mystery, but the narrator, Edna Alice, is accused of that most heinous of crimes, often perpetrated by frustrated spinsters, of being the author of poison pen letters. The introduction includes an excellent and fascinating synopsis of the history of Poison Pen Letter writing, a phenomenon which has been replaced by the more widespread trolling via social media.

The book is written purely from Edna’s perspective in the aftermath of her custodial sentence of twelve months after being found guilty of writing poison letters that caused distress to and ruined relationships of some of the worthies in the county town of Lush Mellish. It only takes a few pages for the reader to recognise that their narrator is distinctly odd, one who has a strongly developed sense of paranoia. She claims she has inherited an enhanced sense of perception from her mother and a determination to pursue what he believes to be right to the bitter end, a trait which bankrupted to him.        

Edna is socially gauche, unafraid to make her opinions known, and a cultural snob, who considers the artistic, literary, and musical woeful in comparison to her finely tuned talents. She has a succession of dogs which cause terror amongst the local cats, dogs, and children, each of her pets, though she can only see their shining virtues, come to a sticky end. No wonder, despite her best efforts to integrate herself into the life of Lush Mellish, where she had just settled, she is given the cold shoulder. As one of her teachers said to her, “you are always right. Strange isn’t it”, a perceptive comment that gives a clue to her psychological make up.

Nevertheless, Clandon manages to elicit some sympathy for his monstrous creation, not least when she is persuaded to stand for election to the Council and promised support from all quarters, only to receive three votes. It is little wonder that she developed a complex plan, learning the lessons from other letter writers whose identity had been rumbled, to send anonymous letters to certain members of the community. Her purpose was not financial gain but to improve the morals and standards of behaviour of the citizens of Lush Mellish. In other words, to do good by stealth.

The recipients, however, did not see it that way and the authorities began their campaign to entrap Edna and bring her to justice. Clandon evokes some sympathy for Edna as we learn of the activities of a solicitor, Power, who cosies up to Edna after rescuing her dog and gradually through a series of seemingly innocuous questions over several encounters leads her to give vital information which seals the case against her. If Edna’s moral compass is a little wonky, so is that of the authorities and when the inevitable happens, the reader cannot help feeling that Edna is as much the victim as the transgressor.       

By modern standards, the accusations made in her anonymous letters seem quite mild and Edna’s sentence unduly harsh. As another reviewer has suggested, the obvious solution would have been for her to up sticks and move elsewhere, but this is not in Edna’s psychological make up. She has inherited her father’s stubbornness and determination to see things through to their natural conclusion.

As well as being a fascinating study of the mind of a poison pen letter writer, the book is humorous in style with some wonderful and memorable scenes. If you like a quirky take that ploughs a furrow less travelled in the hackneyed world of crime fiction, this is the book for you. Superb.