My last encounter with Agatha Christie, Five Little Pigs (Murder in Retrospect), really stuck with me. There was something that she captured between those pages that my mind couldn’t leave alone – the tragedy of it all. It’s been several months, and yet my thoughts continually drift back to the characters, the setting, and paint drying on a canvas.
It’s a rare thing for me to really be impacted by a mystery book. Christianna Brand has a certain knack for it – creating a cast of characters so richly painted that it becomes anguishing in the end when one of them is revealed to be a killer. John Dickson Carr was less effective at it, but he had his moment with books like He Who Whispers and She Died a Lady – titles in which some element of the story pulls at the mind long after the book is set down.
Continue reading “The Hollow – Agatha Christie (1946)”
Five Little Pigs
I was dead set on reading this book under it’s original title – Five Little Pigs. It’s an odd enough title that it always caught my interest. But I’m a creature of some convenience and thrift, and so when I realized that I already had access to the story under its US release as Murder in Retrospect, I had to succumb to practicality.
What a dry title though – Murder in Retrospect. At least, that’s what I thought as I initially started to turn the pages. I’ll tell you this though – upon completing this 1942 Poirot novel, I can see no name more fitting.
That’s what it is after all – a murder in retrospect. Poirot is approached by a young woman with the request that he investigate a murder that occurred 16 years in the past. Her mother, Caroline Crale, was convicted of the murder of her father Amyas, a well renowned painter. Although Caroline died in prison, she left a note to her daughter proclaiming her innocence. Poirot is intrigued enough by the case to take it up, drawn in by the prospect of solving a mystery without ever being able to glimpse the crime scene.
Continue reading “Murder in Retrospect – Agatha Christie (1942)”
Is there even a point to reviewing an Agatha Christie novel? I mean, there must be books about books about Christie reviews. My comments wouldn’t even by footnotes in a footnote. Still, half the fun of reading for me takes place after the book is finished – the discussions that ensue and the insights shared by my fellow GAD enthusiasts.
In this case, I’ve completed my first Agatha Christie book, which feels like an embarrassing admission to make in this sort of forum. Oh well. I started my journey with John Dickson Carr and locked room mysteries, and if I spread my wings a little late in life, so be it. I don’t mind doing it in the open.
A little research into which Christie book to start with has led me down a somewhat obvious path – Death on the Nile. Yes, I suppose that And Then There Were None or Murder on the Orient Express would have been a bit more obvious – at least in the US, theses are the two titles that anyone on the street would associate with the author. I spoiled the former by watching the recent movie adaptation, and the later seems like the conventional hit that I might save for later. Death on the Nile was the middle ground – it shows up on pretty much everyone’s “best of Christie” list, plus Brad at Ah Sweet Mystery listed it as one of his “five Christies to read before they’re spoiled for you”.
Continue reading “Death on the Nile – Agatha Christie (1937)”