Dorothy L.
Sayers – A Mind in Love
By Charlotte
Ostermann
From Victorian to
post-war England; from sheltered only child to woman of the world; from
advertising to apologetics; from fairy stories to the greatest story ever told
– Dorothy L. Sayers in one personality, in one story, is an
almost-larger-than-life aggregation of experiences and qualities. To extract a précis, or an outline from the
rich complexity of her life is, of course, to do her an injustice. But to miss a chance to introduce her would be
worse!
Born in 1893 to an
Anglican parson and his wife, Dorothy enjoyed an uneventful, middle class
country life. Home educated (and later
to influence the modern homeschooling movement
through her essay “The Lost Tools of Learning”) in Latin, French, German,
violin and piano, she was a precocious student with an only child’s facility
for imagination. Immersed in Grimm’s
fairy tales, Uncle Remus, the works of Lewis Carroll
and tales of knights and ladies, she showed an early flair for drama and storytelling. When, at age 16, she left home for college
preparation at a boarding school, her interests in dancing, acting, choir,
orchestra, photography, poetry and writing blossomed in spite of the rigorous
academic program. Her youthful letters
are lively, witty, and full of a voice one can hear in her correspondence all
through her sixty-four years. Her
physical energy and delight in playing the male leads in family and school
plays is reminiscent of Jo in “Little Women”.
They would have been great pals.
In 1912 Dorothy won
a scholarship to
From 1923 to 1937,
her ‘first wave’ of fame, Dorothy wrote twelve highly acclaimed novels and
several short stories starring Lord Peter Wimsey. No one since has eclipsed her as one of the
foremost authors of detective fiction.
While a job in advertising paid the bills, Dorothy brought the detective
story to new heights of sophistication and excellence. Her introduction to the Golancz
anthology of detective fiction is itself considered a masterpiece – a synthesis
of the development and implicit rules of the genre. Like G.K. Chesterton, whose ideas had
influenced her, she thought of the detective story as a very particular kind of
puzzle – a game played between author, characters, and readers. She played the game with masterful attention
to detail and authenticity, believing that “accuracy predisposes the reader to
accept the incredible”. She sprinkled
her fiction with bits of her life, her reading, her family, her activities, and
the current events of her time. She had
fun with Lord Peter – giving him riches, personal freedom, and a rare book
collection she could only dream of. The
motto on his coat of arms – As my whimsy takes me – might have been her own.
Her novels gave her
an outlet for working through her personal issues by objectifying herself in
the character of Harriet Vane. Soon
after her graduation, she had had the heartbreaking experience of rejection by
a man she deeply loved. On the rebound
from his callous desire to use her sexually without the commitment of marriage,
Dorothy hardened her heart to use, in her turn, the next man she met who
expected no strings attached. He
abandoned her when she became pregnant and she was left to fend for
herself. An older cousin, experienced in
foster care, was willing to take in the child and keep Dorothy’s awful secret
from her parents, whose hearts she was sure the news would break. Somehow she managed to hide her pregnant
figure under loose garments and John Anthony’s birth under the pretext of a
long illness and convalescence. Two
years later, she met and married Mac Fleming, who was willing to adopt and
support John, though the boy continued to live with Cousin Ivy until going off
to boarding school.
Fans would later
feel scandalized by the revelation that Dorothy’s adopted son was actually the
fruit of her sinful liaison, but she herself had asked for and received God’s
forgiveness, given life instead of aborting, and knocked herself out to provide
financial support and a good home for the baby, so she felt she had done what she
could to atone. Harriet Vane, in “Strong
Poison”, counts the cost of “free love” and begins the movement from brokenness
toward wholeness that Dorothy experienced in the course of the next few years
as she continued the Vane-Wimsey relationship in
“Have His Carcase” and “Gaudy Night”. By the end of 1929 she was financially able
to leave her work making witty slogans and promotional campaigns at Benson’s
agency. Four years later, in “Murder
Must Advertise”, she spun her experiences into a murder mystery full of the
details and humor of life in the ad business.
Never one to have
only one plate spinning, Dorothy worked during the ‘Wimsey
years’ on a biography of Wilkie Collins, a
translation of Tristan, an unfinished fictionalized autobiography, and, in
1936, a play for the annual Canterbury Cathedral Festival. Recommended for the task by Charles Williams
who, in 1934, had written a rave review of “The Nine Tailors”, Dorothy
undertook to write “The Zeal of Thy House” – a dramatization of the story of the
architect chosen to rebuild the Cathedral choir. Williams had not been the only admirer of
“Tailors”. Readers and critics
considered it her masterpiece of detective fiction. The mystery turns upon the intricacies of
nine-bell ringing patterns. True to her
standard of detailed accuracy, Dorothy made it her business to master ‘ringing
the changes’. The Oxford Companion to
Music refers readers to her book for a lucid explanation of the art - written
by one who had never touched a bell!
Her work on the
In 1943, at fifty years old, she
published a collection of radio dramas of the life of Christ which the BBC had
commissioned. “The Man Born to Be King”
had stirred up some controversy as the play cycle began airing. Written in modern, common idiom and
portraying realistically the humanity of Christ, the stories offended and
threatened the Protestant Truth Society and the Lord’s Day Observance Society,
who mounted a heated campaign to have them banned or at least boycotted. Championed by the Director of Religious
Broadcasting, the series received an overwhelmingly positive response
nation-wide. Sayers’ biographer Barbara
Reynolds calls it “…a great evangelistic undertaking, an unprecedented
achievement in religious education and one which has never been equaled.”
By 1943, Dorothy and Charles
Williams, linked through the
Her unexpected death recalled her youthful poem, “Hymn in Contemplation of Sudden Death”, in which she thanks God for the many, many blessings of her life so far. It ends, prophetically, “I of my joy have had no dearth/ Though this night were my last on earth.”