Edith Pargeter’s Brother Cadfael
Edith Pargeter’s Brother Cadfael
Great Detectives Gumshoe Gallery #2
I once heard a joke about archeology. I forget who said it, probably some professional funny man, but it was funny enough to stick with me to this day.
It went something like this:
What archeology teaches us about the past is that people used to be skeletons and that they lived underground.
My delivery doesn’t do the joke justice, but I hope the sentiment is clear enough.
Without a certain degree of fiction, i.e. make-belief, the lies we tell each other for fun and profit, history is little more than dates, troop movements, and if we are very very lucky, ledgers.
All good stuff in the academic sense, of course, but I’ve often caught myself wondering that there must have been much more to life than that. To say nothing of death.
Both things Brother Cadfael knows a thing or two about.
Edith Pargeter’s Ellis Peters
Ellis Peters, or as she is formally known, Edith Mary Pargeter was an English writer whose body of work extends far and wide but is most often acknowledged due to her work in the genre of historical fiction.
She worked both in fiction and nonfiction, producing novels, short stories and translations of Czech classics to English.
Edith Pargeter published under several different pen names including her best known nom de plume, Ellis Peters, to whom the historical mystery series I’m discussing today, The Cadfael Chronicles, were originally credited to.
This widely-liked mystery series is often credited for popularizing what would later become known as the historical mystery genre and has been adapted for stage, radio and television, where the cowled sleuth was portrayed by the illustrious Derek Jacobi.
By the end of her writing career, Edith Pargeter’s bibliography tallied close to a hundred publications including both fiction, non-fiction, translations and short stories.
Edith Pargeter
Edith Pargeter was born on 28th September 1913, into a four-person working-class household, mere moments before the outbreak of World War 1.
By all accounts, the Pargeter household provided Edith with a musical, encouraging and supportive atmosphere, so it's no wonder the youngest of the family took to writing at a very early age.
Edith Pargeter had no formal higher training, and she never attended university.
Even so, her literary output is noted and appreciated for being well researched both in creeds of fiction and nonfiction alike.
During the 1930s Edith Pargeter worked as a pharmacist’s assistant and from 1940 to 1945 she served in the Women’s Royal Navy Service.
Edith Pargeter's literary career began with the publication of “Hortensius, Friend of Nero”, a historical love story set in the Roman times, and Iron-Bound, both in 1936.
Her first novel with murder in the title was the “Murder in the Dispensary” published in 1938 under the pseudonym Jolyon Carr.
Edith Pargeter’s renowned pen name, Ellis Peters, was first put into use in 1951 when “Fallen into the Pit”, the first instalment of the Inspector George Felse series, or The Felse Investigations as they are also known, was published.
Her most famous work, however, The Cadfael Chronicles, began with the publication of “A Morbid Taste for Bones”, in 1977 and lasted until 1994.
Brother Cadfael
Brother Cadfael is a man, a monk and an amateur detective who lives and works at Shrewsbury Abbey in western England, in the first half of the 12th century.
Between 1977 and 1994 Edith Pargeter wrote 20 Brother Cadfael novels and three short stories featuring the trials and tribulations of this Benedictine Friar.
The stories in the Cadfael Chronicles are set between the years 1137 and 1145.
This period coincides with a civil war in England and Normandy, known as ‘The Anarchy’.
This perilous and costly upheaval was the result of, as so many historical wars are, a succession crisis after the death of Henry I, which led to a widespread breakdown in law and order.
Many events from real and recognised history play a part in the Cadfaelean enterprise where our cenobite-herbalist endeavours to serve his community to the best of his abilities.
But what kind of man is this Brother Cadfael anyway?
Compared to a fair few of his cloistered brethren, Brother Cadfael took his vows quite late in life, having amassed an impressive skill set in several arenas that serve him well during his self-imposed, holy retirement of sorts.
Because Brother Cadfael is no spring chicken, he has had more time to hone his skills and attitudes about life, which occasionally puts him at odds with some of his black-clad brothers-in-Christ - all to the benefit of those who depend upon the services the Abbey Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in Shrewsbury provide.
A Welsh lad by birth, Cadfael took part in the First Crusade, lived several years in the Holy Land, and it's proximate Orient. After such a myriad of horizon-broadening experiences it is no wonder that a certain number of head-budding is bound with the more narrow-minded members of his order.
Brother Cadfael's experiences have provided him with a perspective on life that allows him to be more pragmatic and ethically progressive than his sect, or the contemporary mores would support.
Combined with his ability to speak both Welsh and English, this outlook aids Brother Cadfael to a considerable extent when he gets sleuthing.
Here's how we are introduced to him in the first novel of the Brother Cadfael series "A Morbid Taste for Bones" from 1977:
On the fine, bright morning in early May when the whole sensational affair of the Gwytherin relics may properly be considered to have begun, Brother Cadfael had been up long before Prime, pricking out cabbage seedlings before the day was aired, and his thoughts were all on birth, growth and fertility, not at all on graves and reliquaries and violent deaths, whether of saints, sinners or ordinary decent, fallible men like himself.
Nothing troubled his peace but the necessity to take himself indoors for Mass, and the succeeding half-hour of chapter, which was always liable to stray over by an extra ten minutes. He grudged the time from his more congenial labours out here among the vegetables, but there was no evading his duty. He had, after all, chosen this cloistered life with his eyes open, he could not complain even of those parts of it he found unattractive, when the whole suited him very well, and gave him the kind of satisfaction he felt now, as he straightened his back and looked about him.
Edith Mary Pargeter, A Morbid Taste for Bones (1977)
The Significance of Historical Fiction
Like the term suggests, historical mystery emerges from the cross-pollination of two literary genres, mystery fiction, itself one of the sub-genres of crime fiction, and, you guessed it, historical fiction.
It’s relatively easy to spot. If you’re reading a fictional account regarding yester-year that makes little to no references to dragons or magic, you’ve probably stepped on some history.
If you find yourself involved with an unexplained death or some other suspicious act, it’s very likely that you’ve found yourself a historical mystery to enjoy.
Congratulations!
Historical mystery inherits a substantial amount of essentials from its forebears, and close attention to social conditions, manners and other details of the period depicted is paid in The Cadfael Chronicles as well.
Edith Pargeter's aptitude as a student of history lends her narratives a thick coating of authenticity.
It invites the reader to witness events that could have happened in the closed-off pockets between recorded, institutionally recognised, important historical events.
You know, accounts of escalated conflict resolution, namely war.
Dates of battles, peace treaties and as we creep closer to the present day, the number of casualties and tallies of property damage.
I’m exaggerating to prove a point, of course, but I think the point I’m trying to prove is still valid.
When compared to the accounts of war other aspects of life like, say, beauty, cookery, women and children are treated as a specialised topic - a nice little tidbit for those who appreciate variety.
I would like to argue that in many ways the conceit and the reason for the popularity of historical fiction is the way it endeavours to bridge the gaps between what we know or can verify about the past, and what it is to be human in the present.
That said, there is no escaping the fact that historical fiction has had its fair share of criticism when it comes to historical accuracy and authenticity, which is something we as readers should always be mindful of.
There is no escaping the fact that as a work of art, any example of fiction is at least an equal amount a reflection of the time it was created in and the person who created it, as it is an attempt to bring something lost to time back into life.
Historical fiction is not in fact, history, but that doesn't necessarily have to mean it is something less than the real thing.
Ellis Peters’ Brother Cadfael
Edith Pargeter's Cadfael Chronicles is rightfully recognised as a key ingredient in the popularisation of the historical mystery sub-genre, but it was by no means the first time when an author exercised their magic in that area.
There are elements of historical crime stories in folk narratives from all walks of culture and if you feel up to the task, it isn't too hard to try and make the case that even Sophocles' play “Oedipus Rex” has all the hallmarks of a detective story.
Personally, I don't find the question of why this particular series happened to push this formerly niche genre with a very specialised readership to become such a critically acclaimed and successful breed all that interesting.
If I had to guess, I would say that it might have something to do with the experience of reading a work of historical fiction, which, at least to me, is not one of sensationalism discovering something left on the editorial floor of sorts, but a sense of recognition—a sense of making a human connection through time.
What I do find attractive and exhilarating quandary to puzzle over is, how the world of medieval murder mystery in the Edith Pargeter's Brother Cadfael series comes through in its central character.
Medieval Murder Mystery
As described earlier, Brother Cadfael is a monk, and as such, he does not represent any organisation that is establishment-backed to keep the earthly peace.
Benedictine vows require him to place himself under the direction of the abbot, commit to a particular monastery and to forgo private ownership and certain carnal pleasures.
None of them explicitly state or encourage Cadfael to assume the role of any kind of investigator or a detective, but that is certainly a role that fits him well.
Of course, as an adherent to the Benedictine Order, Brother Cadfael has some standing in his community and an assigned role in the society at large.
It's the combination of Benedictine rule and Cadfael's character that edge him towards the role of a medieval amateur detective, although it must be said that at no point during Cadfael Corpus is Brother Cadfael reluctant to assume this role.
Community life was, and is, I believe, an important part of the religious order Brother Cadfael is a member of, and it stands to reason that particularly in times of societal crisis a binding agent emerges from the ranks of the cloisterites.
However, there is a streak of independent contrarian in Brother Cadfael that occasionally puts him at odds with some of his fellow eremites, his superiors in the order, the church itself and even the feudal law.
These are not slight transgressions, but in a hard to navigate region that is in the grips of strife and lawlessness Brother Cadfael achieves results with his live and let live attitude.
After all, there is enough killing to go around during a civil war.
Even during the societal turbulence that any war undoubtedly is, Brother Cadfael's Shrewsbury is largely spared from the raging storm.
The stuff of war, refugees and spies are ever-present and act major parts in Cadfael stories, but by and large, Peters / Pargeter presents the aforementioned clash as a concern of the nobility.
In a top-down societal structure like the feudal system, it makes very little difference for the lower classes who ends up sitting on the throne.
As Pargeter so acutely presents in her Brother Cadfael series, their lives are governed by the hope that the death and destruction of the war would seace.
Despite his skill as a physician, Brother Cadfael can't heal the land, but he is equipped to treat the threats to the community that rise from inside it.
Of course, Brother Cadfael has no official status as a crime solver, which would be a definite handicap if his close friend Hugh Beringar of Maesbury was not the Sheriff of Shropshire.
This connection to a governing role gives Cadfael's investigations quite a bit more legitimacy than they would likely have without it.
Brother Cadfael - A Great Detective?
A quick browse through Edith Pargeter’s Brother Cadfael titles in Goodreads shows the all twenty novels of the Cadfael Chronicles scoring quite highly--all but one averaging above four stars in the Goodreads’ rating scale.
A five-star review of “The Leper of Saint Giles” puts it succinctly: “What a pleasure it is to find a character and a series that I consistently enjoy.... Brother Cadfael‘s sharp, analytical mind glitters in the noonday sun like the well-honed instrument it is, in this relentless Medieval page-turner.”
Another four-star review of “Saint Peter's Fair” echoes the sentiment: “Brother Cadfael is a wonderful medieval sleuth—he’s participated in the Crusades, he’s had love affairs, he’s a man of the world, but he has chosen “retirement” in Shrewsbury Abbey… People are people, regardless of time period.”
As the case often is with the best instances of fine mystery writing, Edith Pargeter's Cadfael Chronicles offers the reader more than mere murder.
Like a five-star rating for “The Pilgrim of Hate” puts it: “This one is less about the mystery itself, and more about the people it distantly touches on. By the end of the book, I was glad to learn the solution to the mystery, but was much more interested in what happened to the people,” while adding, “this would be a great mystery novel for folks who aren't normally fans of mysteries.”
I couldn’t agree more.
There is nothing wrong with a good head-scratcher of a whodunnit, and the entertainment a thing like that provides more than justifies its existence, but setting the Brother Cadfael series so far in the past is certainly a choice that pays off manyfold.
Where more recent surroundings, not to say anything about our modern world, provide sleuths and investigators tools and tricks to suss out the malefactors and balance the scales of justice, their medieval counterpart depends on a far less extensive portfolio.
Brother Cadfael makes do with his wit and wisdom, the first being a gift and the latter an acquired knack fashioned by time and due diligence.
Setting the Cadfael Chronicles against the backdrop of the Anarchy is an almost fiendishly brilliant way to develop the idea of a murder mystery.
In any war, say perhaps the coke wars, bodies run rampant, but shifting the focal point from the displays of bigger stick diplomacy of the highest of the land to the regular folk and their troubles, Pargeter creates a comfortable pocket for some inspired sleuthing.
Reading Cadfael Mysteries is undoubtedly a treat for anyone who is intrigued by the past.
Edith Pargeter's familiarity with her subject matter and her mastery of the form suspends at least this reader's disbelief just about as far as it can go.
In The Cadfael Chronicles, Edith Pargeter provides a delectable viewpoint to a period of time which is permanently lost to us. And if there is anything I would count against the series it is that Brother Cadfael is not actually a real person.
Of course, most of the Cadfael Chronicles is make-belief and like with anything there are certain caveats one should take into account before immersing oneself in these works.
Like any specimen of genre fiction, some criticism towards Pargeter's Brother Cadfael can be brought up regarding genre expectations that trump historical accuracy.
In general, I can find myself agreeing with the underlying principle behind these appraisals, but in the singular case of Brother Cadfael, I'm not all too taken by them.
Sure, if you want to be bothersome about it, it's not outside reasonable debate to wonder how plausible Cadfael's humanistic bent is in the context of written records from the 12th century.
It can be a little presumptuous of us modern folk to assume that we can say for certain how people in the past felt.
Luckily, that is a discussion for a completely different time and place, and one that I'm not qualified or interested to take part in.
Mystery-wise, the Brother Cadfael series, is a very expertly plotted and adroitly expressed example of historical mystery.
Brother Cadfael is a compelling character whose chronicles are well worth visiting.
A great detective, for sure.
The Cadfael Chronicles by Edith Pargeter
Monk's Hood (1980)
Saint Peter's Fair (1981)
The Leper of Saint Giles (1981)
The Virgin in the Ice (April 1982, set in November 1139)
The Sanctuary Sparrow (1983)
The Devil's Novice (1983)
Dead Man's Ransom (1984)
The Pilgrim of Hate (1984)
An Excellent Mystery (1985)
The Raven in the Foregate (1986)
The Rose Rent (1986)
The Hermit of Eyton Forest (1987)
The Confession of Brother Haluin (1988)
A Rare Benedictine: The Advent of Brother Cadfael (988)
The Heretic's Apprentice (1989)
The Potter's Field (1989)
The Summer of the Danes (1991)
The Holy Thief (1992)
Brother Cadfael's Penance (1994)
Short stories published in A Rare Benedictine: The Advent of Brother Cadfael (1988):
A Light on the Road to Woodstock (set in Autumn, 1120)
The Price of Light (set at Christmas, 1135)
Eye Witness (set in 1139)
