top of page
Search

A Note from Kerry Greenwood

  • Writer: Allen & Unwin
    Allen & Unwin
  • Oct 31
  • 1 min read

Read an author's note about Murder in the Cathedral from the late Kerry Greenwood.

Murder in the Cathedral by Kerry Greenwood

It’s hard to say farewell to a woman like Phryne Fisher — and harder still to bid goodbye to the brilliant mind that brought her to life. With this final adventure, Murder in the Cathedral, we celebrate not only the 25th outing of the Honourable Miss Fisher but also the final work of her creator, Kerry Greenwood — a writer whose wit, intelligence, and fearless sense of fun reshaped Australian crime fiction.


Kerry’s stories have always sparkled with her trademark blend of historical detail, humour, and compassion — and in this last case, Phryne is as dazzling as ever. Set amid the gilded churches and hidden intrigues of Bendigo, the novel is classic Greenwood: a puzzle wrapped in charm, sharp observation, and feminist flair.


In her author’s note that follows, Kerry’s voice shines through — irreverent, incisive, and entirely her own. It’s a fitting curtain call for a storyteller who gave readers a heroine ahead of her time, and a body of work that will continue to delight generations to come.


AUTHOR’S NOTE Yes, I know. There is a dreary verse play of the same name as this book written by a superannuated bank clerk named T.S. Eliot. It concerns the martyrdom of St Thomas Becket, who had it coming in a big way. My sympathies are entirely with King Henry II, who was attempting to bring justice for all to the English under his care and was continually thwarted by this meddlesome cleric. Reformed keg boys are always a menace. If you haven’t seen the play, or read it: don’t bother. I had Eliot’s alleged genius forced upon me as an undergraduate, and I’d had enough of him halfway through my first lecture. The events described in this book are a work of pure fiction, although the bishops (aside from Phryne’s friend Lionel) are real and drawn from their online biographies. The crimes and plot mechanisms depicted herein are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Bendigo is a city like no other, and its history seems to be marked by a law-abiding civility scarcely to be believed in a gold-mining town. In its beginning (as Sandhurst) it was lawless and riotous, whereupon the sturdy inhabitants banded themselves together and made an impromptu citizens’ militia of their own. They were more fortunate in their officials than elsewhere and managed a far more congenial relationship with the government of the day than most contemporaries. I have also borrowed Sidney Myer, who made his fortune in Bendigo. He was nobody’s fool. The story told by the Archbishop about the maritime funeral service for someone lost at sea actually belongs to Howell Witt, once Anglican Bishop of North West Australia. Witt had his own ABC comedy series on television: an all but unthinkable luxury today. Some measure of apology is arguably due to the office of dean. The role of the cathedral dean is a necessarily troubled one, since, while technically subordinate to his bishop, the care of the cathedral and its environs belongs to him. Some deans are utterly charming. Others, alas, become overwhelmed by their responsibilities. They are deserving of our sympathy, no doubt. On the matter of the cathedral’s organ, it is long gone. Most country churches back then had pedal harmoniums, but that would hardly do for a diocesan cathedral, even a small one such as Bendigo’s. Organs with electric-powered bellows became common in the 1930s, but I fell in love with a more traditional method of keeping the organ sounding. Hand bellows were the dominant method of powering large organs until then. And I wanted a stroppy urchin to man it for plot purposes. A word about ecclesiastical terms. I have kept these to a decent minimum; but given the importance of who’s sitting where in the cathedral, I have gone with cantoris (the cantor’s side, if there is one) and decani (the dean’s side), which is traditionally on the south side of the church. With a substantial church choir they would sit on both sides near the altar, but with a smaller choir (such as I have described) they would be in two pews beside the organ. This is on the right side of the cathedral facing the altar. All Saints Cathedral was begun in 1852 and was subject to a great many calamities, not least of which was that most of the available funds were diverted to the high church of St Paul’s. The construction limped on until 1981 when the official See moved to St Paul’s. The building is now desolate, but it must have been special back in the day. There is surprisingly little information available about it; and in the absence of definite data one way or the other I have included the child-driven bellows organ. The plot device about Lansell’s Little mine is made up; yet it is a fact that several dubious company floats were promulgated at the time to fleece the gullible by pretending to have found yet more gold in them thar hills. Human nature in that respect seems immutable. The inspiration for this book arose from two of my favourite Dorothy L. Sayers novels. I am sure that my astute readers will be able to deduce which two they are. Kerry Greenwood

Murder in the Cathedral by Kerry Greenwood is available 4 November wherever books are sold.


Murder in the Cathedral by Kerry Greenwood

Murder in the Cathedral

by Kerry Greenwood


The indefatigable Miss Phryne Fisher returns to solve what may be her most puzzling murder.




 

Comments

Commenting on this post isn't available anymore. Contact the site owner for more info.
bottom of page