Jane Merryman

Sayers, Dorothy L. The Nine Tailors. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1989.

            Dorothy Sayers invented the urbane, elegant detective Lord Peter Wimsey, and some scholars of the British detective novel claim she was in love with her creation. I find this easy to believe since many female readers become smitten with Wimsey’s charm. Sayers also invented Bunter, who is my dream man.

            Bunter is Lord Peter’s butler. Every morning he lays out the correct costume, perfectly pressed and polished, for his employer’s day. He appears at the appropriate moment with a cup of tea or shaker of martinis and whips up anything from a light soufflé to a gourmet meal. When Lord Peter ventures into the crime-ridden streets of London, Bunter plays chauffeur in the 12-cylinder Daimler he keeps washed and waxed and maintains in excellent condition. In addition to his domestic duties, he wheedles valuable information out of a suspect’s upstairs maid and develops the photographs he has taken of footprints outside the French doors of the murder victim’s library.

            Bunter belongs to a select group of literary butlers, such as Wilkins, Cosmo’s factotum in the Topper stories by Thorne Smith, and Lane, Algernon’s man in Oscar Wilde’s play The Importance of Being Earnest. One of the most memorable majordomos of fiction is Lipster in Bath Tangle by Georgette Heyer. In this prose version of a screwball comedy, Lipster supervises Lady Serena’s household in the early-nineteenth-century English spa town while two sets of lovers play emotional musical chairs. He observes the goings-on with nary a smile or raised eyebrow and announces dinner on time.

            Hollywood butlers find their epitome in Godfrey of My Man Godfrey, who enters the household of hapless poor little rich people and puts everything right. My favorite is Norris, in The Big Sleep, clearly in charge of the Sternwood household and a master of understatement. A close second is Max, the man of many parts who reigns on Sunset Boulevard.  

            Shortly after opening my first Lord Peter mystery many years ago, I knew I wanted to have a Bunter. My Bunter is witty and wise, willing to overlook my foibles without comment. He keeps the pantry stocked and has the car waiting at the curb. And he disappears when not needed, probably his most endearing quality. My twentieth-first-century Bunter, besides serving as the most charming of answering services, maintains and repairs the computer. He knows how to program TiVo. When I head for Sierra backcountry, I arrive at my evening campsite to find Bunter has pitched the tent, placed the grill on a crackling fire, and set the table with candles and linen. How he manages to accomplish this I have no idea. But then, he is Bunter.

            Although scholars have twitted Sayers about her “affair” with Lord Peter, I think she longed for his butler.

(This review appeared in The Redwood Coast Review, Summer 2006.)