I was wondering, lately, about the strange link between Crime/Mystery fiction and romance. I noticed it first in Third Girl by Agatha Christie, then in Blind Fury by Lynda La Plante.
Agatha Christie, of course (hmm... why did I say that?) writes a happy ending. In Third Girl, which is a confused novel (I mean literally, where the protagonist -not Poirot- is very confused), has a happy, albeit, unexpected romantic ending. I noticed that this appears to be a pattern, but the funny thing is, the relationship isn't how we tend to perceive it as romantic, and barely occupies a place in the plot.
Maybe that's a more realistic depiction. Why should romance be portrayed as so central to our lives? Maybe it's because I've always been single, so I really don't see the point. I've never bothered thinking about boyfriends and the like too much, since I believe it's all down to God's will. To me, the central relationships (apart from family) are my friends, of both genders. And honestly, I think it's much more fun if you just hang out with friends without bothering about all the drama that comes with BGR.
The next book, Blind Fury, is about "using a killer to stop another killer". But the book is actually around one central protagonist (not the killer) and that serial murderer that supposedly helps them isn't much use. The story isn't much of a mystery, but of dogged determination, that slow process of tracking down the evidence that helps you nail the suspect.
The romance subplot in the book is quite sad though, especially at the end, where she becomes so cynical (no spoliers now). But it's also quite unbelievable, as though it operates on a double-time scheme (don't you love studying literature?), because of the speed of the romance. I have nothing more to say.
Yeah. That's all.