[The bells] rioting and exulting high up in the dark tower, wide mouths rising and falling, brazen tongues clamouring, huge wheels turning to the dance of the leaping ropes. [p. 35]
Reread to comfort myself on a day of misery. As usual, I'd forgotten nearly all of the plot, and rediscovering it was a gentle delight. The Nine Tailors is not really one of the major Wimsey novels, but it might be one of the most beautifully-written. I love the setting: the wintry fenland, the bell-ringing, the coming flood. Sayers' descriptions are glorious and Lord Peter is charming, likeable and kind-hearted (witness his willingness to step in and help ring a nine-hour peal on the church bells). I found myself focussing more on the prose and the characters, and the depiction of rural Fenland in the years after the First World War, than on the murder mystery. Comfort: achieved.
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