Our hero, Hayden, is a chief of detectives (the only detective in town) by day and the rest of the time choir director at the local Episcopal church with a master’s in music composition and a degree in law enforcement.. He drives a ‘62 Chevy that has rolled over the odometer four times, according to the notches he keeps on the steering wheel, and it’s fully equipped with blue lights, siren, and really expensive Marantz stereo speakers. He keeps his ticket pad in the office.He had a standard way of eliminating dates that seemed incompatible or were going nowhere: the Knock n’ Bach strategy. First stop is knockwurst and sauerkraut followed by the Credo from the B minor Mass (one of my all time favorite pieces of music by-the-way.) Before he met Megan who actually loved the stuff, he had a well-earned reputation as a boring date.The new female minister (Herself) at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church is less traditional than he would like, and requests they sing Kum-Baya. He demurs and doesn’t hand out the music so during the service the minister winds up doing a solo. “She had sounded vaguely like Ted Kennedy doing an impression of Willie Nelson on a bad day. Altogether, it might not have been the effect she was hoping for. The congregation, for some strange reason, didn’t join in, but sat there, mute, as if suddenly struck dumb by the Holy Spirit. “Sorry,” I had said after the service, “I thought you were just kidding about Kum-Baya. But you did a great job.”Hayden is also a wannabe writer and the title of each book in the series is the title of the book he happens to be working on. His girl-friend Meg, keeps pointing out how awful is his writing and suggesting he enter the Buler-Lytton contest for bad sentences. He prints out a chapter each week and distributes it in the choir folders so the choir has something to read during the sermon. Filled with ridiculous similes and metaphors, the reader is treated to the book within a book. For example: Pulling up a chair, she sat down gracefully, crossing her tweed-covered legs with an elegance belying the sound of tweed-on-tweed, a sound not unlike forty Amish farmers shucking corn. . . She was really ranting now. I could always tell when they were mad. This one was beet-red and her hands were clenching and unclenching the loaded shotgun that I had left sitting on the table. I suddenly realized I had made a tactical error. Still, I had her hooked like a tweed tuna and I had to reel her in. “These ain’t metaphors. Only an idiot would try to use an unlicensed metaphor in a detective story. These what I’m usin’ is similes pure and simple.” I lit a cigarSome wonderful scenes. I think my favorite is accident scene Hayden is called to where Carleton’s wife leaped through the sunroof of his car, splatting on the pavement. When queried as to why she might have done that, Carleton replies she thought it was the Rapture. She started screaming ‘He’s back, He’s back.’ Then she climbed right out of the sunroof and jumped out of the car.” “Excuse me?” Nancy stopped writing, raised an eyebrow and looked Carlton in the face. “She thought it was the Rapture,” Carlton continued, shaking his head. “You know, like in those Left Behind books. She thought Jesus was going to lift her up into the sky. Look, I was trying to slow down, but she wouldn’t wait till I stopped.” “Why would she think it was the Rapture?” I asked. “We passed a half-dozen naked people floating into the air and then she saw Jesus.” “She saw Jesus?” Nancy asked, pen poised over the paper but seemingly unable to take any notes. “Well,” said Carlton, gesturing toward the pickup truck, “anyway, she saw Arlen.” Arlen Pearl was dressed in a white sheet leaning against his old pickup. He was in his mid-thirties I’d guess, but I didn’t know for sure. He had shoulder length blond hair and a beard but, in my opinion, he didn’t bear much resemblance to Jesus. The tarp came off Arlen’s truck and the eight sex dolls floated off into the sky. “I stopped the truck by the side of the road and I was shouting at the dolls ‘Come back here.’ I guess my arms were up in the air like this,” he said, lifting his hands toward the heavens. “I just wanted them to come back. Sheesh. They cost almost thirty dollars apiece. I was going to sell them to the guys after the party. Then Carlton comes racin’ by and Darlene jumps out of the sunroof.” She was convinced He was coming for her and climbed through the sunroof to get a head start. Priceless.The naked dolls reappear at inopportune (depending on your point of view) moments throughout. Another classic is when Herself is having a wymmin’s conference and as they chant outside the church, The drums and cymbals began anew with restored vigor to the refrain “Sophia, Sophia, Sophia, shower us with your love.” As they chanted together, their collective voices straining to a frenzied pitch, suddenly one of the womyn screamed and pointed to the sky. They all glanced heavenward and there, framed by the full moon which was still low in the sky, was the goddess Sophia herself. She hung there for a just moment, transfixed in naked beauty, before drifting into a power pole and landing against a transformer. The resulting explosion and shower of fire that rained down on the wimmyn priests was enough to convert most of them back to orthodox Christianity. Four of them checked into the hospital with “severe emotional distress.” Six got into their cars and went home immediately. The goddess Sophia met her untimely end amid the fragrance of electrical conflagration and burning latex. The girls and I just stood and watched with disbelief. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” said Georgia thoughtfully, “but Arlen won’t be very happy.” Not to mention the Bishop’s memo that all new compositions had to have at least 50% non-white notes.I intend to read all of this series. Had me LOL.
It's a shame, really. I suspect that many of the people who might enjoy this book most will be the least likely to consider reading this, turned off by the subtitle "A Liturgical Mystery". It is true that the first person protagonist is the church organist in the Episcopal church in his fictional little town of St. Germaine. (Very amusing to see the small town I grew up in -- Wausau, WI-- referred to as the big city in the area, which I suppose it was and is, being about 30,000 people with no large city near it). And the murder does take place in the church, with several important clues related to churchly matters and knowledge. However, that said, this not a particularly "churchy" book in any other sense of the word. In fact, this was quite the romp through a quirky man's quirky imagination. The title comes from a putative hard-boiled detective story that the organist (also the town's police chief, also an independently wealthy man due to some fortuitous circumstances that take place before the book begins) is attempting to write. The detective story, of which we are treated to occasional chapters, has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the plot of the book. (The would-be author's girlfriend would probably say that the plot of the detective story has absolutely nothing to do with the detective story itself either, and she would be pretty much be right; it makes very little sense at all but is amusing in a Bulwer-Lytton contest sort of way. In fact the famous contest is mentioned by her rather early on). Let me also say that there are many laugh-out-loud, read-out-loud incidents scattered about the book, not all of which are perpetrated by the organist/police chief/author -- although not without his enjoyment and support. The main plot line is satisfactorily twisty, with a satisfactory conclusion. There are more in this series and I'm determined to get access to as many as I can.
What do You think about The Alto Wore Tweed (2002)?
As a lifelong church-goer, I'm somewhat ashamed to say I thoroughly enjoyed the THE ALTO WORE TWEED by Mark Schweizer. This mystery-within-a-mystery contains plenty of intriguing twists and turns, as well as a cast of quirky and memorable characters. Hayden Konig divides his time between chief police detective in the small mountain town of St. Germaine, North Carolina and organist/music director at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. He constantly butts heads with the new female Bishop, while investigating the murder of sexton Willie Boyd, found dead in the church choir loft.While investigating, Hayden is also writing a Philip Marlowe-style mystery called The Alto Wore Tweed, which he shares in small doses with his significant other, Megan Farthing and places in the choir folders for choir members to read while pretending to listen to the Bishop's sermons. The set up for this whimsical and fresh mystery is perfection itself. Although Hayden's attempt at mystery-writing lacks a real plot, it proves to entertain.Schweizer made me laugh many times, then at times be ashamed of laughing at irreverent ideas. He has genuine talent for comedy. Perhaps laughing at ourselves is the purest and best kind of humor. There are many things about organized religion that are laughable. I recommend this book as a fun read, and no slouch of a mystery. I did not guess who really dunnit. I completely agree with the last line of the book: "Raymond Chandler would be proud."
—Catherine Leggitt
This is a flat-out, fall-down funny mystery!When Willie Boyd, sexton at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church, is found dead in the choir loft, having spewed all over the keyboards of the organ in the process; Chief Detective and Choir Director Hayden Konig suspects poison. It was poison, but the bottle of sacramental wine Willie had filched and drunk, the only thing he is known to have consumed, is not the source. Many people disliked Willie, including the new priest, Mother Lorraine Ryan, whom many Church members find almost as disagreeable as Willie. While suspects are plentiful, clues are sparse, and the motive remains a mystery. The story is interspersed with chapters from Hayden's unfortunate efforts to write a Chandleresque mystery novel. These passages got a little annoying after awhile; but were italicized, so I just skimmed them. The story doesn't need them! Allover, I enjoyed the book so much that I immediately ordered two more in the series; although I can't imagine how the author can possibly match The Incident of the Escaped Helium-filled Sex Dolls (with recurring dire consequences) and the two competing Live Christmas Nativity Displays (one with amorous camel.) These mental images will amuse me for years.
—Rosemarie
Since I'm an Episcopalian and grew up going to a church called St. Barnabas, I was drawn to the first book in this series in which laughs and murder take place at an Episcopal church called St. Barnabas. I liked the first installment enough to try the second but definitely had some issues with the story. The female rector is portrayed as an off-the-chart stereotyped female minister and is completely unlikeable not to mention eventually immoral and unprofessional. Maybe the series redeems itself
—girl writing
