In the first instalment of this Deep Dive Into Tropes series, I looked at why Getting Stranded remains such a crucial storyline for thrillers. But it’s not just plots which keep recurring; characters do the same.
Once upon a time in the early days of crime fiction, rich families were essentially the norm. Respectable gentlemen populate the novels of writers like Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie, complete with a country house perfect for getting murdered in. Nowadays, however, we should surely have left them behind and be reading about ordinary people in ordinary income brackets with ordinary flats.
And yet, every other thriller still seems to feature a disgustingly rich family doing terrible things and getting killed off. Of course, there are still plenty of wealthy people out there—but bizarrely, many of crime fiction’s elites are not tech bros or CEOs, but the same old-fashioned, monied aristocrats they’ve always been. So why do we find them so intriguing?
What Is It?
They’re rude, snobby, entitled, and the worst people around. They’re also money-mad, and hate each other just as much as everyone else hates them.
Nobles and multimillionaires might not be a typical part of most people’s social circle, but they seem to turn up everywhere in murder–hit communities. They live in huge manors, hold enormously tasteless parties, and generally make a living out of getting on everybody’s nerves.
All this is especially bad news for the patriarch of the family, who is invariably the most likely candidate for getting killed off—although, as will become clear later, grandmothers are also strangely vulnerable. His death then provides ample opportunity for drama when the will reading comes around and it turns out the family fortune hasn’t been divided as expected.
Beyond this unfortunate father figure—who is typically ageing, cantankerous, womanising, and guilty of at least five financial crimes—other family members keep cropping up too. Look out in particular for the cold-hearted wife, the uptight eldest daughter, the slightly pathetic son, and the free-spirited youngest daughter (bonus points if she’s a professional artist). See also: the officious, bumbling uncle and the ruthlessly ambitious daughter-in-law.
How Does It Work?
You don’t have to delve too deep to work out why this particular trope is so popular. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged—in fiction, at least—that upper-class Brits are the absolute worst people in the world, and therefore the best candidates to play the villains. There’s a reason why American films always cast plummy English antagonists, or why every soap opera seems to have one unusually posh and vaguely nefarious family. This is a stereotype which stretches far beyond the realm of crime fiction.
Of course, interrogating why this cliché exists is far more complicated and problematic. The UK’s obsession with class is well-documented, with one 2013 survey suggesting there are seven different categories beyond the traditional working, middle, and upper groupings. Some thrillers hang their entire premise around satirising this social system, with its inbuilt injustice, illogicality, and hypocrisy. More often, though, crime authors focus on the aspects which provide the best motives for murder: resentment, jealousy, greed, and above all else: money.
One final important detail is that the actual protagonist of these thrillers is rarely one of the one percent themselves. Instead, they are some perfectly normal person who has happened upon the household—a police officer or amateur investigator—and is equally as appalled by their bizarre antics as the reader. Maybe in the end we just want to be reassured that billionaires might have all the riches, property, and clout, but the everyman will always be braver, more intelligent, and win out in the end—not least by staying alive.
The Best of the Best
If you’re looking for a way into this particular trope, here are some standout examples to get started with:
- Bella Mackie, What A Way To Go: Slotting firmly into the ‘satire’ sub-section of the genre, the Wisterns are possibly the most archetypal unbearable rich family out there. So when unlikeable patriarch Anthony dies at a huge birthday soirée, his callous wife and four resentful children are the obvious suspects, whilst an unstable true crime obsessive provides the disenchanted outsider’s view.
- Shari Lapena, Not A Happy Family: The Mertons form an especially unlucky family in that both patriarch and matriarch Fred and Sheila are immediately killed off. The prime suspects? Ambitious eldest daughter Catherine, disappointing son Dan, and wild child youngest Jenna…
- Ruth Ware, The Death of Mrs Westaway: Tarot reader Harriet Westaway is shocked when a letter informs her that her late grandmother has left her a generous inheritance—not least because her actual grandma died decades ago. Desperately needing money, she pretends to be the real deal anyway and must try to blend in with the true clan. High drama is guaranteed.
- Rebecca Reid, The Will: In another case of grandmother-based will hijinks, the Mordaunts gather to find out who will inherit the family manor. There may be the three rival siblings, a gang of cousins, and endless buried secrets, but Reid ultimately makes her rich relations more interestingly well-rounded than most.
Love crime fiction? This is the second of a four–part series exploring the tropes which keep thrillers thrilling. Take a look back at last week’s article on Getting Stranded (with a murderer, obviously), and watch out for next week’s deep dive into The Big Reunion. Spoiler alert: it always ends badly…
Words by Eleanor Harvey
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