The Origin of the Red Herring and its Place in Literature

[Admin_99]

What is a thriller or mystery without a sprinkling of red herrings? The dictionary defines a red herring in two ways:

1. a dried smoked herring, which is turned red by the smoke.

1. a clue or piece of information that is, or is intended to be, misleading or distracting.

Interestingly, there is no actual species of fish named “red herring.” A red herring is actually a type of herring that’s smoked heavily, or brine cured, giving it a red color and a strongly pungent smell. They were used in hunting to train dogs to follow that fishy scent and not get distracted by other smells. The redness and powerful odor are designed to both distract and lure attention—exactly the purpose of red herrings in mysteries as well. Thus, a red herring is a false clue, something designed to distract and lead the reader, and often the protagonist, astray. So, how did a bunch of bad smelling fish come to be a literary term for a false clue?

This phrase was popularized by William Cobbet, a journalist, who in 1807 criticized newspapers for prematurely reporting Napoleon’s defeat, comparing their false reporting to the practice of using the strong smell of red herrings to distract dogs from another scent. He called this “political red herring” a deliberate attempt to distract the public from other important domestic issues. 

 In literature, a red herring is something that seems like a clue but isn’t. It’s used to distract and baffle both the reader and the protagonist. It could be a juicy piece of gossip that is untrue or ultimately has no significance or a diary a character is keeping, a diary that in the end winds up being irrelevant. The reader believes it to be an important story element, but it doesn’t lead where the reader expects. In mysteries, this is probably the most common plot twist. It’s when all the clues seem to point to one character as the guilty party, when in fact they’re innocent – or at least innocent of the crime being investigated. The twist comes when the truth is revealed, and the red herring (the character who appeared to be guilty) is shown to be innocent. 

But how do you create an effective red herring? A good red herring should weave easily into the details of the story. As much as you want to avoid the obvious red herring, highly well-read individuals may be so genre savvy that they can identify a red herring as soon as it’s introduced in the story. J.K. Rowling became reader-savvy as a result, and in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Harry’s suspicions that Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape are involved in the evildoing are actually proven right in the end. Sometimes it’s okay for the red herring to be the actual right clue. 

We reached out to some of the top thriller writers to see what their favorite red herrings are:

Jeffery Deaver

I’d vote for Robert Bloch’s Psycho, or, of course, the movie. What I like is that the red herring is Norman Bates, who directs us away from the apparent real killer (mom), when in fact he turns out to be (SPOILER!), the killer himself. I think this makes it a double herring—but I’m not sure. :-).

Joe Finder

Spoiler alert! (Actually, has anyone not read Gillian Flynn’s remarkable Gone Girl?) One of my favorite red herrings of all time has to be Amy’s diary in Gone Girl. It’s an unreliable narrator, it’s a counterpoint to husband Nick’s POV, it gives us a history of their marriage, it helps us understand the Amy character, it’s part of Amy’s strategy—and it’s a classic head fake. 

David Morrell

Perhaps the most famous (and notorious) red herring in crime fiction is in Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (1926). Much discussed, often criticized, the entire book is a red herring.

Hank Phillippi Ryan

My favorite use of red herrings is in the novel where everything appears to be a red herring—and it turns out nothing is. In Agatha Christie’s brilliant Murder on the Orient Express, she carefully reveals clues which implicate each of the passengers on the snowbound train. One by one, we are shown the handkerchief, the red kimono, the button—a whole list that we instantly pounce on. Experienced readers deduce well, some of these will be red herrings, but one of them must be the real deal! And then, as only Agatha Christie can, she reveals that all of the clues are real. That (spoiler alert) all of the passengers are guilty.   The real false clue is that readers assume Hercule Poirot is looking for only one villain. And that is the biggest red herring of all.  

Peter Swanson

I’ve been reading Josephine Tey novels recently, and just finished To Love and Be Wise. In this methodical and clever novel Detective Alan Grant keeps going down rabbit holes to try and find out why a mesmerizing young American has gone missing in an arty English village, only to find out that he’d been looking at the case completely wrong. I’m tempted to say that the entire novel is one big red herring—you’d have to have read it to understand—but suffice to say that the ending came out of left field and completely fooled me. 

Lisa Unger

In The Mist, a Stephen King novella originally published in 1980 in the Dark Forces anthology, David Drayton and his son Billy are on the run from a mysterious fog that has descended on their town. The mist conceals otherworldly creatures, but the bigger dangers are posed by the fanatical survivors. While the novella ends on a more hopeful note, the 2007 movie adaptation features one of my all-time favorite red herrings. At the end of the film, all is lost, and David and the other survivors agree that suicide is the only answer. We are utterly convinced that the group is defeated and there is no way out. David kills everyone in the car, including his own son, but can’t kill himself because he’s out of bullets. Then, as David steps out of the car to meet his end, the mist clears to reveal the approach of the military and it’s clear that rescue was just moments away. A devastating twist of expectations.

***

One of our favorite red herrings is in Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. Rebecca’s entire persona is a red herring as we’re led to believe she was the beloved of our narrator’s new husband, Max, as well as the new wife’s rival for Max’s for his affections. When we discover the truth, that Max hated Rebecca, it turns on its head everything we were led to believe up to that point. 

We hope the red herrings in The Senator’s Wife become some of your favorites.

View the full article