The Representation of the Criminal: “Murders in the Rue Morgue” and “Death and the Compass”

Introduction

There is an inherent dilemma in discussing the comparative interest levels of the criminals and the detectives in traditional, crime fiction.  That is, there is the temptation to assert that the detective is more interesting as a character because he is more virtuous, or ethically correct.  The detective is certainly and invariably more admirable, and the temptation to declare him more interesting is not necessarily invalid; a great deal goes into what commands interest, and simple liking, or admiration, is often a powerful component.

However, and fortunately, the world of criminal fiction frees the reader from making choices based on factors more influential in real life.  Jorge Louis Borge’s Scharlach is no more real than his less villainous characters, as Edgar Allen Poe’s  Auguste Dupin is as much a creature of the writer’s imagination as the orangutang that challenges his intellect.  There are no moral parameters to observe, and interest may be felt and expressed free of such constraints.  This being the case, the criminals of Borge and Poe, as well as many murderers and evildoers of other examples of detective fiction, are typically more interesting than the masterminds who eventually expose them.  They have all the attraction of the forbidden and, in the hands of skilled writers like Borge, take on complete, human dimension.  The criminals of detective fiction command greater interest, moreover, because, as fictional beings, they allow the reader to simultaneously engage with them as do the detectives, while vicariously enjoying the criminality they exercise.

Poe and “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”

Evaluating the interest levels of the detective and the criminal can hardly be more of a challenge than in Poe’s classic detective story, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”.   If there are other such stories wherein the hero, or great detective, matches wits with a non-human, they do not occupy so exalted a place in literature, and Poe’s reputation as the inventor of the fictional detective could not have had a more daunting beginning.  In presenting to his C. Auguste Dupin so unlikely an adversary, Poe both boldly teases his audience and challenges their expectations in interesting ways.

As Dupin figures in a variety of stories, his own character is very well defined.  He is, in fact, so much an archetype that more than a few other detectives in fiction owe their existence to him, and it could be argued that Agatha Christie’s Poirot is something of a near relation.  Both detectives are European, cool of temperament, erudite, fascinated by method and logical order, and impatient with other avenues of detection.  “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” introduced Dupin to a welcoming world, and his own ability to generate interest must be examined, before that of his adversary.

Much about Dupin is both mysterious and compelling.  There is a great deal Poe does not reveal in this introductory story, including the name of the narrator and his actual relationship with Dupin.  Then, there is the cryptic way in which the men live.  It is suggested that Dupin is of noble birth, although his fortune is gone, and the narrator provides the Gothic, elaborate home the two settle into.  The men keep utterly to themselves, as the narrator unequivocally states: “Our seclusion was perfect. We admitted no visitors….We existed within ourselves alone” (Poe 5).  It does not require any possibility of a homosexual relationship to add interest to this unusual scenario, although the nature of the relationship points to an intense intimacy.  It is enough, to render Dupin interesting, that he is content to live a life solely of the mind with his new friend.

In later stories, Dupin is not much more drawn out as a man.  Poe has intentionally created him as a device of sorts, a human male who conforms to few, if any, of the habits of other men.  This in itself, however, adds to his interest.  The reader knows, even in the first story, that Dupin has lived in the world; he makes references regarding the police and ordinary life that clearly indicate a man with knowledge of daily living.  Consequently, and in keeping with the unnamed reason why his fortune is gone, the reader is given free rein to speculate as to how this man came to be who he is.  It is very much a case of interest generated by concealment.

As Dupin’s amateur career in detection proceeds in following stories, his isolation itself adds another element of interest.  Poe does not radically differentiate him from the various criminal minds he encounters; moralities aside, each is drawn to the unusual and fascinated by complex means of achieving their ends (Frank, Magistrale 3).  Cerebral and removed, Dupin can appreciate the mechanics of crime without being encumbered by the societal reactions in which he does not share. This is the same kind of deliberate duality Conan Doyle would exploit in his Holmes and Moriarty.  Great minds, it is implied, cannot help but admire great minds, no matter the purposes they pursue.  With Dupin, there is even a sense that he welcomes the orangutang as the criminal simply because it is a challenge worthy of his keen intellect.

Auguste Dupin is, beyond question, an interesting character.  He would exist as such even had he not served as a role model for more refined creations coming later, from other authors.  The reader wants to sit with him and, once the mystery is beautifully entangled, engage him and lure him into revealing the mystery of his own existence.  It is no small accomplishment, that Poe gains so much by employing so little.

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