100 Books Like Beginning with a Bash

Constance and Gwenyth Little—sometimes listed under the portmanteau Conyth Little—wrote 21 screwball mysteries in the 1930s and 1940s, starting with The Grey Mist Murders.

I’m recommending their second book, The Black-Headed Pins, because I think it’s where the Little sisters really begin to show their storytelling chops. Constance Little generally thought up the plots and clues, and Gwenyth fleshed out the books, both of them reportedly writing in bed each morning.

The Littles’ mysteries aren’t a series, but they have several items in common. They feature smarty-pants heroines, snappy dialogue worthy of a Frank Capra movie, and romantic disaster—until it all turns out right. The Black-Headed Pins ticks all these boxes.

It takes place over Christmas and involves a moving corpse, a family curse, and a miserly hostess that makes Scrooge look positively benevolent.

If screwball detective fiction intrigues you, you must read Craig Rice. Why not start with Eight Faces of Three, the mystery introducing the wacky, rye-soaked team of Jake Justus, Helene Brand, and John Joseph Malone?

Justus is a good-looking press agent and the book’s moral center; Brand is a gorgeous heiress and non-stop partier; and Malone is a stumpy lawyer-slash-PI with good instincts and better luck. Imagine Philip Marlowe meets the Marx Brothers.

In Eight Faces of Three, a young woman awakes to find her aunt murdered, all the house’s clocks set to 3 am, and herself the prime suspect.

Craig Rice was the first mystery writer to grace the cover of Time magazine. Her private life was strewn with ex-husbands and empty booze bottles, and she died way too young at 49.

However, her literary legacy—one critic dubbed her the “Dorothy Parker of detective fiction”—will keep her… show more.

Yes, that Gypsy Rose Lee. Lee not only wrote The G-String Murders, she followed it up the next year with Mother Finds a Body.

In The G-String Murders, Lee writes from the first person, telling a remarkably homey murder tale (although not as sanitized as Lady of Burlesque, the movie starring Barbara Stanwyck based on the novel).

The mystery here is okay as mysteries go, but for me the real draw is the non-stop wise-cracking and the almost domestic portrayal of burlesque life. In the novel, Lee and her boyfriend Biff trade comic observations and share cheap diner meals while they determine who killed two people with, you guessed it, g-strings.

Besides Nick and Nora, it’s not easy to find compelling sleuthing couples. Jane and Dagobert Brown are an exception. She Shall Have Murder introduces the duo.

Dagobert is a charming genius with an inability to settle down to a job, or, indeed, even a meaningful hobby for more than a few months. The novel is told from Jane’s point of view. She’s our Watson and is alternately frustrated and entranced by Dagobert. She’s also a crime novelist.

In She Shall Have Murder, Jane and Dagobert aren’t yet married. Dagobert is disentangling from his estranged wife, and Jane hasn’t yet established herself as a writer. With Dagobert’s encouragement, Jane drafts a mystery novel that takes place in the law office where she works. To their shock, the elderly client Jane has pegged as the book’s murder victim actually dies.

The coroner rules it an accidental death, but Dagobert is sure… show more.

What I love about this book is how it relates dialogue to all the other aspects of writing for the screen. I found the sections dealing with various approaches to ‘realism’ particularly useful, as I was writing a non-naturalistic script at the time.

The book is academic but also easily readable—an unusual combination! Books on film tend to focus on the visual aspects of the medium, so this is a refreshing change. It shows how central the words are in a script for the screen. I particularly appreciated the chapters on dialogue and genre. 

This short book covers a lot of ground and has been really influential in my thinking about the “Chick Flick” as a form of popular storytelling. It’s extremely useful for coming to grips with the genre’s conventions, and it’s open to the thematic and ideological range of a set of films that are too often written off as boilerplate and conservative.

It enables readers to see the interconnectedness of celebrated screwball comedies from the 1930s, Doris Day/Rock Hudson sex comedies, “radical” romantic comedies like Annie Hall, and contemporary “neo-traditional” romances like Sleepless in Seattle. A standout section for me is the author’s close reading of You’ve Got Mail.

Matilda moves to the small New Mexico town of Goodnight after inheriting a house, a small newspaper, and two dogs. She learns just how odd the town is when she starts investigating the murder of a reporter. The town of Goodnight is pretty bizarre, but speaking as someone who lives in a small town in New Mexico, Goodnight is more believable than it might seem to an outsider. I prefer books where weirdness is something to celebrate, and here the characters embrace their crazy with enthusiastic joy. This story is part screwball comedy and part mystery, and both work.

First remarkable fact: This was written by a philosopher. Second remarkable fact: the study was published at a time when film studies had a strong political orientation, and therefore Cavell’s book was an odd one out, for it had a ‘light-hearted’ subject: seven screwball comedies, made between 1934 and 1949. Its relevance has only been acknowledged in retrospect.

Cavell’s style is colloquial and his aim was to set up a ‘dialogue’ with the films. Even though I am less enamored with his philosophical interventions, this work helped me to truly appreciate all seven ‘comedies of remarriage’ he had selected, and The Awful Truth (Leo McCarey, 1937) in particular has remained one of my all-time favorites ever since. Any analysis that encourages us to love a movie under discussion is worth recommending.

Every page of The Paper Palace is moving and evocative—the quintessential love triangle that had me torn between young, innocent love and mature, adult love. I’m a sucker for these tropes, so I sunk inside this story of then and now, shuffling through a range of emotions, just like the protagonist, Elle. That’s the best kind of book. When you feel alongside the characters. And the secret longing kept me turning pages until the climactic, tender ending. And that ending. It will keep you guessing. And discussing. And thinking about it. I still think about it.  

I love Cape Cod and I was fortunate to live on the edge of the sea between 1997-2003. Skillfully written by one of America’s greatest writers of the natural habitat, it transports you to a place. It reminds me of what it felt like to live far out in Cape Cod on the North Atlantic at its furthest reach on the east coast of the United States. Living there for several years and spending time in nature with the sea, beach, dunes, and my bicycle, I learned to love its moods, wildlife, and great sense of mystery. I totally identified with this man’s extraordinary experience and how it was years ago. A wonderfully descriptive book that helps you experience with all your senses what it’s like to live next to the sea alone.