The subgenre that came to be known as “urban fantasy” was the most popular type of fantasy—perhaps fiction as a whole—of the first decade of the twenty-first century. Although full of action-adventure and horror’s supernatural beings—vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, ghosts, witches, et al—it really owed more to mystery than any other genre, especially the hard-boiled or noir detective mystery. Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe, Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade, and their fictional counterparts are close literary kin to today’s vampire slayers, demon hunters, wizardly private eyes, and other paranormal protagonists.
Just as with urban fantasy’s heroes and heroines, the hard-boilers were outsiders. They took a lot of physical punishment, and dished out just as much. They adhered to individual moral codes, even when doing so broke traditional societal rules. Their turf was the city: the epicenter of all that is unnatural, wicked, and perverse in the world. When you fight evil all the time, you wind up cynical and tend toward sarcasm and wisecracks . . .
But urban fantasy’s protagonists are also related to another breed of shamus: the occult detective. These investigators of the supernatural had to counter what was, by definition, outside of the normal world, yet constantly invading it.
Detective fiction as we know it began in 1841 with Edgar Allen Poe’s story “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” His investigator, Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin, also appeared in “The Mystery of Marie Roget” (1842-43) and “The Purloined Letter” (1845). The entertaining formula of a baffling crime or mystery being solved by a detective of superior intellect—often assisted by someone less brilliant who acts as a chronicler—was established.
It didn’t take long for the uncanny to be combined with the fictional detective’s rational analysis. Ghosts appear to Harry Escott in Fitz-James O’Brien’s short story “The Pot of Tulips,” published in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine of November 1855. The specters help locate missing documents, and, consequently, right a wrong. In this brief tale, Escott seems to have made a study of the paranormal and is prepared to reconcile it with scientific theory. In 1859, Escott appeared again (in O’Brien’s “What Was It? A Mystery,” also published Harper’s) and is attacked by a supernatural entity that is, itself, the mystery.
The occult detective had been born. Also known as psychic detectives or ghost hunters, they were more often portrayed as scientists or learned doctors than as true detectives. Rather than dealing with human crimes, these investigators were involved in cases dealing with ghosts, malevolent spirits, arcane curses, demons, monsters, and other supernatural events and entities. Occasionally, purported paranormality would be debunked.
A number of these sleuths made appearances in late nineteenth and early twentieth century fiction. We’ll mention only a few of the most notable:
Although his publication debut came did not come until 1872, Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s character Dr. Martin Hesselius is often cited as the original occult detective. If not the first, he was the first of significance and influence. Le Fanu’s In a Glass Darkly collected five stories—the most famous of which is the novella Carmilla—which were purported posthumous reports of some of Dr. Hesselius’s cases. An unnamed assistant supposedly compiled and edited his papers. He said of the rather shadowy physician, “His knowledge was immense, his grasp of a case was an intuition. He was the very man to inspire a young enthusiast, like me, with awe and delight.”
In the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker (1897), the highly educated (“M.D., D. Ph., D. Lit., etc., etc.”) Dr. Abraham van Helsing obviously knew something of vampires as he immediately suspected the true cause of Lucy Westenra’s illness, and eventually displayed a knowledge of how to deal with the undead. He was not exactly a detective, but he did discover and destroy a vampiric mystery/problem.
Flaxman Low, created by E. and H. Heron (first appearance: 1898) is a contender for the title of the first true occult detective since he specialized in solving supernatural mysteries and was consulted specifically for the purpose. He used his vast knowledge of the uncanny as well as powers of observation and analysis similar to Sherlock Holmes to crack his cases.
Of Algernon Blackwood’s Dr. John Silence (1908) it was said, “ . . . though he would have been the last person himself to approve of the title, it was beyond question that he was known more or less generally as the ‘Psychic Doctor’ ” who had undergone “a long and severe training, at once physical, mental, and spiritual. What precisely this training had been, or where undergone, no one seemed to know . . . but . . . it had involved a total disappearance from the world for five years . . . ”
William Hope Hodgson’s Thomas Carnacki (1913) was directly inspired by Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, but Carnacki dealt with supernatural rather than human mysteries. Primarily scientific, he also used modernized magical tools (like his electric pentacle), and sometime resorted to arcane rituals. His investigations resulted in finding both real and faked hauntings.
Aylmer Vance, created by Alice and Claude Askew (1914), was another Holmesian type, but his partner Dexter, a lawyer, had clairvoyant abilities.
Why occult detectives? The huge popularity of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson (beginning with A Study in Scarlet, published in 1887—and despite Arthur Conan Doyle’s attempt at killing Holmes off in the The Final Problem (1893)—with stories appearing until 1927) combined with a societal interest in spiritualism and all things occult. Paranormal investigators were a natural outgrowth. For a while, readers wanted more and more.
Most stories tended to be mere variations on the same theme. This is exactly what readers wanted, of course, but eventually they tired of the formula and moved on to other types of fiction. Tales of psychic sleuths continued to be published by the pulps, but overall they were no longer in high demand. Or, like Seabury Quinn’s Dr. Jules de Grandin and his narrator/assistant Dr. Trowbridge, their adventures remained popular, but were not of lasting literary quality. (Seabury’s duo were featured in scores of usually supernatural, always over-the-top, and often poorly plotted stories published in Weird Tales magazine 1925-1951.)
In the 1930s and 1940s, there were a number of other fictional investigators whose adventures led to encounters with the supernatural, but the realities of World War II and the decline of pulp magazines further lessened interest in such stories.
Supernatural sleuths never completely disappeared. Characters like Clive Barker’s Harry D’Amour, James Herbert’s Harry Ash, and F. Paul Wilson’s Repairman Jack (who is not exactly an occult detective, but “fixes” things in a world that contains supernatural adversaries)—have been protagonists in bestselling novels over the last few decades. Other weird detectives, like Manly Wade Wellman’s creations—John the Balladeer, Judge Pursuivant, and John Thunstone—or Brian Lumley’s Titus Crow are known only to horror or fantasy readers.
For reasons unknown (to us, at least) the zeitgeist of the late 1980s and early 1990s produced a new breed of weird investigator: the vampire detective. Maybe it was a natural combination. Vampires have a lot in common with noir/hard-boiled detectives: they both roam the streets at night, both tend to wear dark clothes and/or long coats, both usually have tragic personal histories, love never runs a true and easy course for either, and neither define morality in the same terms as society. Human detectives often seem to need to drink and, of course, vampires definitely need to “drink.”
Although Marvel Comics introduced a vampire detective, Hannibal King, in The Tomb of Dracula #25 (October 1974) and there are probably other examples previous to these, note:
In Blood Hunt (1987) and Bloodlinks (1988) by Lee Killough, homicide detective Garreth Mikaelian became a vampire. After tracking down his maker, he continued to fight crime using his vampiric powers. (A third novel, Blood Games, was published in 2001.)
Nick Knight, a TV movie released in 1989, featured Nick Knight (played by Rick Springfield), a vampire working as a police detective in modern-day Los Angeles. In 1992, CBS picked up the series and produced as Forever Knight with Geraint Wyn Davies as the vampire detective. It ran three seasons, ending in 1996.
Bloodlist (1990) by P. N. Elrod featured Jack Fleming as a good-guy vampire PI in 1930s Chicago. Supposedly hard-boiled, he’s far too nice to be really boiled. Eleven other novels followed. Dark Road Rising, the most recent, was published in 2009.
Set in modern-day Toronto, Tanya Huff’s Blood Price (1991) portrayed Vicki Nelson, an ex-cop going blind who turned to private detecting and teamed up with a vampire. It was adapted for television as Blood Ties (Lifetime, 2007). There were five Blood novels altogether.
There was also a trend toward vampire hunters . . . or at least characters who started out as such:
Guilty Pleasures by Laurell K. Hamilton (1993): The novel was a mix of horror, fantasy, mystery, action-adventure, and romance in which Anita Blake is a female hardboiled detective-type (contrary, sarcastic, and with a protective streak) necromancer who also hunts down criminal vampires. The series has now veered away from detection and into the erotic; the twenty-first full-length novel will be published this year.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV series: 1997–2003): Darker than the original action-comedy/horror parody film of the same name (1992), the series also better embodied creator Joss Wheldon’s concept of an empowered woman fighting monsters, which were metaphors for problems that teenagers, especially, face. Buffy was not a detective, but she did defeat supernatural meanies. She and her “Scooby gang” also employed detective-like investigation in some episodes. In the spin-off series, Angel (1999-2004), the title character does becomes a private detective who helps the helpless while battling his own demonic side.
The earliest occult detectives may have possessed arcane knowledge or special powers, but they were basically human. But after vampires became detectives and humans started needing more than bravery, common sense, and a solid stake to dispatch them—many occult investigators became paranormals themselves. By the time urban fantasy gained popularity in the twenty-first century, the protagonists were still solving supernatural mysteries and crimes—or at least righting preternatural wrongs—but they weren’t always human detectives or even “scientific” crime-solvers who might know a few spells. Kim Harrison’s Rachel Morgan, for example, is a “witch-born” demon who investigates all manner of paranormal badness. Harry Dresden, created by Jim Butcher, is a PI and a wizard. Patricia Briggs’s Mercy Thompson is a Native American shapeshifter raised by werewolves.
The most popular urban fantasy characters sustained story lines for numerous serial novels that continue to be bestsellers.
Although they were not necessarily always urban fantasy, as part of the general popularity of this type of fiction some great short stories featuring a combination of the uncanny and detection or crime were published. This anthology compiles some of the best of them published from 2004 through 2011. In order to meet our definition of “weird detective story,” a mystery had to be solved and/or actual detection involved, so supernatural crime- or adventure-only stories were not considered.
Fans of urban fantasy are likely to have already encountered some of our authors and the universes they have created. Most will know Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden in “Love Hurts,” Quincey Morris of “Deal Breaker” is central to Justin Gustainis’s Investigations novels, and Tony Foster (“See Me”) appears in three Smoke novels by Tanya Huff. Even if set in a certain “universe,” the selected stories do not always feature its best-known characters. Simon R. Green takes us to the Nightside, but John Taylor is nowhere in sight. Charlaine Harris’s Dahlia Lynley-Chivers is part of the Sookieverse, but the famous telepathic waitress is not connected to “Death by Dahlia.” Carrie Vaughn has written a number of novels about werewolf Kitty Norville, but Detective Jessi Hardin in “Defining Shadows” has appeared in only a couple of them. David Christiansen, in “Star of David,” was only briefly mentioned in Patricia Briggs’s Moon Called, the first of her bestselling Mercy Thompson books. Jane Yellowrock’s presence in “Signatures of the Dead” by Faith Hunter takes place chronologically before her novel adventures begin.
The New York of Elizabeth Bear’s “Cryptic Coloration” is very similar to our own, but it is also part of her Promethean Age continuity, where subtle and treacherous magic infests the real world throughout history—and is constantly fought—but is never noticed by most humans.
Some tales don’t take place in alternative contemporary worlds. Lillian Stewart Carl takes us back to the sixteenth century with “The Necromancer’s Apprentice.” Richard Parks’s “Fox Tails” is set even earlier—in Japan’s Heian era (794 to 1185).
Some authors intentionally evoke both hard-boiled detectives and the noir-ish past. Both P. N. Elrod’s “Hecate’s Golden Eye” and Caitlín R. Kiernan’s “The Maltese Unicorn” take place in the 1930s. “The Adakian Eagle” by Bradley Denton and “Swing Shift” by Dana Cameron have World War II-era settings. In “Mortal Bait” by Richard Bowes, the mystery occurs in the early fifties.
Über-detective Sherlock Holmes has also had a revival of late. And, fictionally at least, he has encountered the weird in numerous recent stories. We selected “The Case of Death and Honey” by Neil Gaiman and Simon Clark’s “Sherlock Holmes and the Diving Bell” as two stand-outs. William Meikle pays tribute to an Edwardian era occult detective—who was initially inspired by Holmes—with “The Beast of Glamis.”
We also present adventures of supernatural investigators who may go on to further adventures (or not). After appearing in short form, Dana Cameron’s Fangborn are now being featured in novels. Jason Saunders (of Ilsa J. Bick’s “The Key”) appears in at least one other story. Joe Lansdale’s Dana Roberts has appeared in two stories, both of which were originally published only in a limited edition chapbook, The Cases of Dana Roberts. Surely there are other cases? Sarah Monette has now written three stories with her odd detective couple of Jamie Keller and Mick Sharpton, and we certainly hope to see more. Jonathan Maberry’s “Like Part of the Family” is a modern homage to noir fiction. Its PI Sam Hunter could easily become the protagonist of a novel.
Urban fantasy still has many readers, but lately its bubble has been somewhat deflated by a number of factors—including the fact that the public is inevitably fickle. We suspect the crossover of mystery into science fiction and fantasy—which was not exactly new, but has certainly been strengthened—will remain a major influence as we progress further into the century. Weird detectives may get weirder yet and find even stranger streets to walk. Not having psychic powers of our own, all we can do is wait and see. For now, we hope you enjoy these stories as much as we do.