S. S. Van Dine Libri

New York, un misterioso caso sembra proiettare gli investigatori in un fosco e irreale regno di demoni e di superstizioni; un regno pieno di mostri e orribili vendette... Nella tenuta degli Stamm un uomo si immerge nello "Stagno del Drago" e scompare: è l'inizio di una sequela di tragici avvenimenti, e Philo Vance si trova alle prese con vecchie, terrificanti credenze.

Philo Vance was drawn into the Scarab murder case by sheer coincidence, although there is little doubt that John F.-X. Markham—New York's District Attorney—would sooner or later have enlisted his services. But it is problematic if even Vance, with his fine analytic mind and his remarkable flair for the subtleties of human psychology, could have solved that bizarre and astounding murder if he had not been the first observer on the scene; for, in the end, he was able to put his finger on the guilty person only because of the topsy-turvy clews that had met his eye during his initial inspection. Those clews—highly misleading from the materialistic point of view—eventually gave him the key to the murderer's mentality and thus enabled him to elucidate one of the most complicated and incredible criminal problems in modern police history. The brutal and fantastic murder of that old philanthropist and art patron, Benjamin H. Kyle, became known as the Scarab murder case almost immediately, as a result of the fact that it had taken place in a famous Egyptologist's private museum and had centred about a rare blue scarabaeus that had been found beside the mutilated body of the victim. This ancient and valuable seal, inscribed with the names of one of the early Pharaohs (whose mummy had, by the way, not been found at the time), constituted the basis on which Vance reared his astonishing structure of evidence. The scarab, from the police point of view, was merely an incidental piece of evidence that pointed somewhat obviously toward its owner; but this easy and specious explanation did not appeal to Vance. "Murderers," he remarked to Sergeant Ernest Heath, "do not ordinarily insert their visitin' cards in the shirt bosoms of their victims. And while the discovery of the lapis-lazuli beetle is most interestin' from both the psychological and evidential standpoints, we must not be too optimistic and jump to conclusions. The most important question in this pseudo-mystical murder is why—and how—the murderer left that archaeological specimen beside the defunct body. Once we find the reason for that amazin' action, we'll hit upon the secret of the crime itself." (excerpt)

1927. Illustrated with scenes from the Paramount photoplay. Around 1925 Willard Huntington Wright, critic and writer, underwent a long illness. As part of his convalescence he wrote The Benson Murder Case, in which he created the character of Philo Vance, a master sleuth. So that the book would not be compared to his other works he adopted the pseudonym S.S. Van Dine. By the time The Canary Murder Case, the second in the series was published, Van Dine had become a best seller. He wrote a total of twelve Philo Vance novels. The book begins: In the offices of the Homicide Bureau of the Detective Division of the New York Police Department, on the third floor of the Police Headquarters building in Center Street, there is a large steel filing cabinet; and within it, among thousands of others of its kind, there reposes a small green index-card on which is typed: ODell, Margaret. 184 West 71st Street. Sept. 10. Murder: Strangled about 11 p.m. Apartment ransacked. Jewelry stolen. Body found by Amy Gibson, maid.

In this engaging narrative, a sophisticated New Yorker embarks on his fifth and sixth investigative adventures. As he navigates through intriguing mysteries, the story unfolds with a blend of wit and charm, revealing the complexities of urban life and the eccentric characters he encounters. The cases challenge his intellect and offer a glimpse into the vibrant tapestry of city living, showcasing the protagonist's keen observational skills and his knack for solving puzzles amidst the bustling backdrop of New York.

The book explores the deep, often unrecognized purpose behind great art, emphasizing its role in addressing complex issues of the creative will and aesthetic consciousness. It argues that the animating desire in artistic creation is not just a personal endeavor but a significant aspect of human psychology, reflecting profound problems that few outside the art world fully appreciate. This investigation aims to illuminate the intricate relationship between art and the deeper psychological motivations that drive artists.

Gracie Allen breaks the Philo Phormula in a number of ways. First is its title: this is the only book in the series to modify "Murder Case" with more than one word, much less with the name of a character. And then there's that character: Gracie Allen was a very real, much-loved comedienne in the 1930s, famous for her double act with George Burns, and in fact the plot revolves around her. Gracie's centrality is no accident: Van Dine wrote the story as a vehicle for Allen, and actually created the novel only after the film had come out. So do all these departures pay off? We'd be lying if we said that Gracie hits every single mark, but Van Dine does a surprisingly entertaining job of translating Ms. Allen's delicious Ditzy Blonde persona to the page, and she makes a charming foil for Philo's evergreen erudition.

Like The Gracie Allen Murder Case before it, Winter was first written as a screenplay, in this case a vehicle for the figure skater Sonja Henie. However, while Allen's scatterbrained persona made a charming foil for Philo's stuffed-shirt pretensions, Ms. Henie provided no such inspiration. Van Dine did not live long enough to see her outed as a Nazi supporter, but her ice-princess act offered less for Philo to play against. It should be noted that Winter was published posthumously to close out the series, and though it went to press without Van Dine's usual repeated revisions, it is true vintage Philo--utterly distinctive in style and its own very genuine kind of pleasure.