It is with sadness I read this morning of the death of Colin Dexter, one of the true masters of the English crime novel. He was 88.
His 13 novels about Inspector Morse are erudite studies of murder, police work, and the particular lifestyle of Oxford and its colleges. They spawned three TV series — Morse, Lewis, and Endeavour — that were (and still are) hugely popular. Morse had a passion for beer, Wagner, and difficult crosswords — not unlike the author, I suspect. For me, Morse shares an intellectual heaven with P.D. James’ equally literate Adam Dalgleish: both authors pushed the genre into true literature.
From the several obits I have read, Colin Dexter seems to have been a jolly fellow, well liked by all who knew him. He will be missed.