The plot could come straight from Blyton, if you add twenty
years or so to the main characters’ ages. Phillip, Daisy’s likeable but
somewhat dimwitted pal, falls for an equally likeable but equally dimwitted American
heiress. The heiress is kidnapped in mysterious circumstances. Phillip calls
his investigator friend Daisy for help and together with a further bunch of
pals, they scour the surrounding countryside with the idea of rescuing the
damsel in distress. It’s probably not giving too much away to suggest that the
result is a daring rescue and just desserts all round.
You may at this point have some inkling of why I referred to
growing up in some respects but not others. There are token nods to class
issues, as well allusions to the fact that some of the characters may, at some
point, but let’s not dwell on this for the sake of delicacy, be having sex.
However, the sheer improbability of the plot is hard to overlook. Somehow, I
was left with the impression that Dunn just adores these characters so much
that she can think of nothing better than a thin device to have them all
together having jolly good fun solving a mystery in the English countryside.
I wonder if the fact
that Dunn appears to be American has anything to do with her frothy view of
English rural life – as Agatha Christie could tell you, there are plenty of
dark secrets behind the bucolic idyll. But
comparing Daisy Dalrymple to Miss Marple is like comparing Edward Cullen to
Dracula. If it came to a fight, I know who I’d be backing.
There’s nothing wrong with a light read, and perhaps it’s
simply that Damsel in Distress is not
my preferred form of escapism (for the record, I always preferred Mr Galliano’s Circus to the Famous Five and would have happily given
up both for a new Swallows and Amazons
novel). Others may find it more plausible, and the characters more likeable,
and be less inclined to laugh at the (no doubt historically accurate)
vocabulary (but seriously, are there people out there who can read “oh right
ho, pip-pip” without at least suppressing a smile?). I might as well go with
the theme and use a very English metaphor - it’s just not my cup of tea.
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