Cheating

I've been reading voraciously this summer, enjoying the opportunity to go to bed before I'm exhausted beyond belief, cherishing the chance to read over breakfast and lunch rather than grabbing things on the run. I'll admit, the level of literature has varied dramatically. Mostly, I've been speeding through the legacy of paperbacks my Grandpa left behind. This morning, I finished "An Old-Fashioned Mystery" by Runa Fairleigh.

Back in 1929, Monsignor Ronald A. Knox, a chaplain at Oxford and avid reader of mysteries, set forth the following rules for fair-play:
"A Detective Story Decalogue"
I. The criminal must be someone mentioned in the early part of the story, but must not be anyone whose thoughts the reader has been allowed to follow.
II. All supernatural or preternatural agencies are ruled out as a matter of course.
III. Not more than one secret passage or room is allowable.
IV. No hitherto undiscovered poisons may be used, nor any appliance which will need a long scientific explanation at the end.
V. No Chinaman must figure in the story.
VI. No accident must ever help the detective, nor must he ever have an unaccountable intuition which proves to be right.
VII. The detective must not himself commit the crime.
VIII. The detective must not light on any clues which are not instantly produced for the inspection of the reader.
IX. The stupid friend of the detective, the Watson, must not conceal any thoughts which pass through his mind; his intelligence must be slightly, but very slightly, below that of the average reader.
X. Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them.

Since I think it fairly unlikely that any of you will ever read this obscure little book, I feel free to tell you that Runa Fairleigh breaks every one of those rules. When Agatha Christie did it, there was a mighty ruckus in her literary circles. And I can understand why. She tricked the reader by presenting a pretty cool psychoanalytical story in the guise of a classic whodunit, thus blatently violating Rules #I and #VII. Fairleigh, however, continually turns her story on its ear with wry wit and morbid humor.

For example:
One day, though, Augustus's inveterate kidding caught up with him when he sneaked up on a guest who believed himself to be alone in the room. Unfortunately, the guest had just finished loading a shotgun preparatory to taking a few shots at the local seagulls. The coffin was closed for the ceremony.

Simply great fun! Once, just once, someone can break all the rules with such panache that they surpass the rules altogether. But I don't think you could get away with it on a regular basis. This is why they call it "cheating."