So you want to be a girl sleuth? Good for you! There are worse ambitions. I was never any good at sleuthing myself, but I think I can help you in a few easy steps.
First, are you a girl? Or a boy who identifies as a girl? If you’re a boy who identifies as a boy, “girl sleuth” will be tough to carry off with any conviction.
Second, are you under 11? That’s a bit too young to be a sleuth. Over 20? The clock is ticking! Get out there and solve a mystery! Over 30? Now you’re just being silly.
Let’s assume you’re 12 to 18, a good age for the beginning, or “tyro,” girl sleuth. Now, what type do you want to be? Here are two to choose from: Nancy Drew (original books by Carolyn Keene) and Trixie Belden (first six books by Julie Campbell).
Nancy’s mysterious powers
You’ve heard of Nancy Drew. Everyone has. Anthropologists report that even tribes-people in remote parrot-haunted jungles, when asked to word-associate the phrase “Titian-haired,” answer “Nancy Drew.”
Nancy began life as a blonde, so it seems that her powers extend to changing hair color. And as Jill Hupp points out in The Mystery of the Disappearing Roadster, Nancy owns a blue roadster, a maroon roadster, a green and black roadster, a coupe, and then a convertible, all without aging past 18. Impressive!
Nancy is equal to any task she’s given. Row across a lake in a thunderstorm? Why not? Ride a bucking horse? Sure thing! Make a stained-glass window? How many do you want? “Why, Nancy, you’re awfully good at this,” is a phrase that recurs in the Nancy Drew series.
Trixie, the schoolgirl shamus
Meanwhile, 13-year-old Trixie Belden gets called “wacky,” “noodlehead,” and “schoolgirl shamus” by her brothers. In The Secret of the Mansion she falls off a horse, dives into a lake and hits her head on a rock. Her friend Honey has to drag her out by her hair (“short sandy curls”). She can’t thread a needle, and unlike Nancy, whose wardrobe is as varied as her cars, Trixie wears jeans and scuffed moccasins and “feels like a goon” in a skirt.
But there would be no cars for Trixie even if she were old enough to drive. Her father works for a bank but seems unacquainted with the hedge funds and “collateralized debt obligations” that are making so many bankers rich these days. Nancy lives in an elegant home with a housekeeper. Trixie lives in a farmhouse and has to feed the chickens.
But despite having to get around on a horse, Trixie solves almost as many mysteries as Nancy, and by the end of every book her brothers have come round. “There never was anyone like Trixie,” says one of them, fondly if inaccurately, since Trixie is standing right there beside him.
Family ties
And that’s another difference. Trixie has a family. She lives at Crabapple Farm in upstate New York: snowy winters, muggy summers. She goes to school and makes heavy lifting of that too, almost missing The Mystery in Arizona because her grades are so bad. She sometimes has to stop in mid-sleuth to take care of her little brother.
Campbell’s house, Wolf Hollow, was the model for the
Beldens’ home, Crabapple Farm.
Nancy doesn’t go to school. She’d only end up teaching the teachers. She has no mother, no siblings, and her father is improbably indulgent. (“Be careful following that sinister and probably armed robber, Nancy.”) River Heights could be pretty much anywhere. Nancy’s two girl friends, George and Bess, are very lightly sketched. George has a boy’s name and cropped hair. Bess is plump and giggles. By contrast, Trixie’s friends Honey, Jim, and Diana are practically characters from Dostoevsky.
Trixie for me; and for you?
I can thread a needle but then I don’t know what to do with it. I’m wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt. My parents weren’t rich but I was lucky enough to have two of them. I’m definitely a Trixie. Nancy Drew led me to mysteries with a skillful and manicured hand, and I’ll always be grateful, but I can’t live up to her.
And you? Would you rather be the cynosure of all eyes, effortlessly capable, Titian-haired or blonde at will, and amply supplied with clothes and cars? Or flawed and beleaguered, but deeply rooted in a place, a family, and even a secret club? Or would you like to be a bit of both?
Painting by Willem Johannes Martens (1839-1895), in the public domain.
