In 1935, Alfred Hitchcock directed a film adaptation of John Buchan’s novel, published two decades earlier. This was before Hitchcock had become a household name or even made his first Hollywood movie. That movie—Rebecca—was still another five years down the road. Despite coming so early in his career (though by then he’d already directed close to twenty features), The 39 Steps was one of the early movies that set the tone for the rest of Hitchcock's career: a regular guy on the run from the baddies who in saving himself might just be saving the world. Little wonder that Buchan’s story attracted Hitchcock.
By the time Hitchcock turned The Thirty-Nine Steps into a movie, the spy novel (such as it is, even though the hero isn’t technically a member of any intelligence agency) had attained a certain comfortable level of legitimacy. This was not exactly so in 1915. In fact, Buchan originally published his tale in serial form anonymously despite already being an established author. When he finally did attach his name, he termed it neither a spy novel nor a crime novel. Instead, it was a “shocker.” Truthfully, The Thirty-Nine Steps was not really any more shocking than many of the previous novels Buchan had published, but it featured two notable exceptions.
The first was the nature of the hero, Richard Hannay. Not only is Hannay not a spy, he isn’t a man of particularly impressive abilities or history. When the reader is first introduced to Hannay, he has already made his fortune in South Africa and returned back to England long enough to become bored. And so Hannay becomes—well before the fact—the typical Hitchcockian hero. An ordinary guy pressed into extraordinary circumstances. In fact, the circumstances are so extraordinary that even the positive reviews are prone to point out that the plot relies on contrivances that are not just out of the ordinary, but out the realm of the believable.
This is where the second big exception from Buchan’s previous novels enters. As if aware that certain elements of his story would test the reader’s suspension of disbelief, Buchan plants a seed pretty early on when his hero Hannay meets up with an innkeeper with whom he shares a story that is “pure Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.” Those two are the creators of Allan Quatermain and Sherlock Holmes, respectively; heroes who adventures often defy credibility. But then again, they are also characters of extraordinary abilities who are much more likely to get into a wild adventure and much more likely to come out on the winning end. This does not apply to Hannay. Which makes the innkeeper’s initial reply to Hannay’s query about whether he believes the story he has just been told or not really the central premise for enjoying the book.
“I believe everything out of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal.”
Any reader who shares this outlook is likely to enjoy The Thirty-Nine Steps immensely. Those who do not may find some elements too contrived and credibility stretched too taut.
