Henrietta Hay's Column

There are two kinds of readers in the world -- well, three, actually. There are those who read science fiction and those who read mysteries -- and those who read anything else. I read mysteries written by women. My author list has reached 96 and I know there are some I have forgotten to record.

Most of my favorite people are science fiction fans. Ah well, we're all different. They want their imaginations free to wander about, unbound by earth or earthly cares. These are the people who want intellectual stimulation, who want their minds to go where no mind has gone before.

I, however, am quite happy to have mine stay right where it is. That's why I like mysteries. They are comforting. You know the story pattern and basically how it is going to end, but there's lots of variety and entertainment getting there. There are good gals and bad gals, and the good gal always wins. She solves the murder and ends up her strong, independent self -- with or without a spot of romance. There is usually some blood and gore, but it doesn't bother you much, since it is generic blood and you don't have to look at it. You know it's just a story and could never happen - could it?

Because I know I am going to get yelled at for discrimination, I have been thinking about my preference for mysteries written by women. Men do have trouble creating tough, independent women characters who solve the mystery and then, often, walk off into the sunset alone. Time magazine noted this in an article by John Skow. "Last year's trend was hard-boiled women detectives by such hard-boiled women writers as Carol O'Connell and Patricia Cornwell. The new trend is hard-boiled women...written by soft-to-medium boiled men...The results are...mixed."

The best women writers take care to build female characters of depth, women who are real and warm and human and funny, along with being smart and competent and often pretty feisty. That's why I like 'em.

It was Dorothy Sayers' Harriet Vane who got me into this mystery habit more years ago than I care to count. She and Lord Peter Wimsey, that debonair Englishman, solved murders within the sacred walls of Oxford with sophistication and intellect. I was hooked, and young enough that I wanted to take the first boat for Oxford.

The locale can be anywhere. The Sue Grafton's Kinsey Milhone, PI, lives in Santa Teresa, a mythical town somewhere north of Los Angeles and runs on the beach every morning. Janet Dawson's Don't Turn Your Back on the Ocean, takes place on the beautiful Monterey peninsula. Lora Roberts' Liz Sullivan lives in a Volkswagen bus in Palo Alto. Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie stick close to home in Virginia. Linda Barnes' Carlotta Carlysle is a six foot one red head who works in Boston and plays volleyball and the guitar - not at the same time. For a more exotic setting, Vicky Bliss in Night Train to Memphis travels up the Nile by train and back to Cairo by jeep and on foot while being chased by the bad guys.

They are liberated women with a wide variety of professions. There are private investigators (PI's to us mystery readers) who will investigate nearly anything for a fee or just out of curiosity. Some are cops. Several are lawyers and we have a few journalists. One is a Police Superintendent in Great Britain. There are some college professors and a one is a forensic pathologist.

Sara Paretsky's V.I. Warshawski drives a cab in Chicago when she is not chasing murderers. Goldie Bear is Diane Mott Davidson's caterer from Evergreen, Colorado. Julie Smith's tall ex-socialite Skip Langdon is a formidable cop in New Orleans. Nevada Barr's park ranger, Anna Pigeon, has landed (literally) in Lake Superior, New Mexico and Mesa Verde.

These women and so many more are familiar friends of mine. I just can't always remember which one did what. But I am not alone. My friend the philosopher recommends a mystery she liked about an absent-minded woman. The trouble is, she can't remember the title or the author, or exactly when she read it.

Ah, mystery.