Agatha Christie in publication order #1: The Mysterious Affair at Styles

I've had in mind for years to do an Agatha Christie reread - I'm pretty sure I've read them all at some point (including, long ago, the Mary Westmacotts) but it's very long ago in some cases. (I suspect I read the majority as a teenager, in between P G Wodehouse and, later, Stephen King.) After finishing Laura Thompson's biography (my review here), I got the idea into my head to read them all (i.e. the novels and main short story collections) in publication order. And blether about them on my blog, because why not. So, that's the plan. I'm not sure yet if I'll incorporate the Westmacotts in order or leave them to the end.... I'll see how it goes.

There may be spoilers along the way, but I’ll try not to include any major ones.

So, on with the Great Agatha Christie Reread of 2020-??, beginning of course with The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Poirot's first outing, which hit UK bookshelves in 1921 (although it was actually written in 1916 and turned down by various publishers). Who were, no doubt, kicking themselves in retrospect. A challenge from her sister Madge, Agatha's own experience of working in a hospital pharmacy, and the arrival in Torquay of Belgian refugees provided motivation and inspiration.

The Mysterious Affair at Styles

Captain Arthur Hastings (though neither his first name nor his rank is ever referred to in this book), invalided home from the Front during World War I, has been invited to spend his convalescence at Styles, the home of Mrs Inglethorp, stepmother of his friend, John Cavendish. Also in residence are Mrs Inglethorp's dodgy new younger husband, Alfred; John's wife Mary and brother Lawrence; Mrs Inglethorp's young protegee Cynthia, who like Agatha herself did, works in a hospital dispensary; housekeeper Evie (one of those brusque manly women who seem to pop up fairly regularly in Christie's work); and various servants, including Dorcas and Annie. 

The Hastings we first meet here seems a rather arrogant so-and-so, fancying himself a detective and referring to a certain detective he met in Belgium ("a marvellous little fellow....He used to say that all good detective work was a mere matter of method. My system is based on his - though of course I have progressed rather further."), congratulating his own conversational prowess, and commenting on how an attractive young woman "would have been a beauty" if only certain flaws were remedied. 

Poirot himself, when we meet him for the first time, is very much himself, physically described as a "quaint, dandified little man" with a head "exactly the shape of an egg". I’d forgotten, though, that he arrives in Britain as a Belgian refugee, living in a house with other refugees. It's a shame that Christie never gives us Hastings and Poirot's first meeting in Belgium (I'm not sure if we ever learn more about it.) Well, I'm sure there's fanfiction.

His famous vanity, too, is quickly on display:

"The case is not clear yet - no. For it is of the most complicated. It puzzles me. Me, Hercule Poirot!"

Yet moments later we can see that his character has greater depth than merely a comically vain little man with a passion for order and method, when he displays genuine emotion in expressing his compassion for and gratitude to Mrs Inglethorp.

The dynamic between Poirot and Hastings is quickly established, with Hastings taking on the role of Poirot's Watson (we also meet for the first time Christie's Lestrade, Detective Inspector Japp). It's obvious to the reader, if not immediately to Hastings himself, that he's really a bit of a dimwit with a lack of self-awareness, albeit one with his heart in the right place. Poirot is kind enough to rarely draw attention to the fact - at least, not directly.

'"Yes, he is intelligent," [remarked Poirot, of a suspect]. "But we must be more intelligent. We must be so intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all."

I acquiesced.

"There, mon ami, you will be of great assistance to me." 

I was pleased with the compliment. There had been times when I hardly thought that Poirot appreciated me at my true worth.' 

Not a great deal to report on Christie Xenophobia Watch - a couple of references to Dr Bauerstein being Jewish, but little is made of it. However I can't miss the opportunity to quote this, from parlourmaid Dorcas ("dear old Dorcas") on Poirot:

"A very nice gentleman he is, sir […..] I don't hold with foreigners as a rule, but from what the newspapers says I make out as how these brave Belgies isn't the ordinary run of foreigners, and certainly he's a most polite-spoken gentleman."

For a first novel, Styles seems remarkably strong, showing many of the characteristics which would go on to make Agatha Christie such a legend (and rendering it incomprehensible that it was turned down by so many publishers). Maybe it fizzles out slightly at the end, but overall it's incredibly consistent with her later work and a must-read for any Christie fans. 

Next up: #2 The Secret Adversary …. introducing Tommy and Tuppence.

Agatha Christie: A Mysterious Life by Laura Thompson (Book review)

Laura Thompson's hefty and very well-researched biography of Agatha Christie focuses largely on a psychological study of Agatha and her relationships - rather like Poirot, she is clearly interested in "the psychology of the individual". She also mounts a vigorous defence of Christie's work against those who have sought to diminish and misrepresent it (while acknowledging that it does, at times, vary in quality).

Thompson has had access to a lot of material and her book draws heavily not only on Agatha's letters, notebooks, etc but also on interviews with key people such as Agatha's daughter, Rosalind (since deceased) - as well as numerous extracts from the books themselves, most notably the strongly autobiographical Mary Westmacott novel, Unfinished Portrait. (Beware spoilers - numerous details of various plots are revealed.) She devotes a lot of time to the famous 1926 disappearance and presents an account which, while clearly fictionalised, seems plausible and accords with the facts as they are known. I've never bought into the absurd "amnesia" idea which the family firmly stuck to - far more likely that Agatha, certainly in a state of great distress about husband Archie's request for a divorce, simply took off on her own for a while, perhaps at least partly in the hope of bringing him to his senses. When she was found exactly where she had said she would be - at a Yorkshire spa - albeit under a false name (a possibility which had apparently occurred to no-one), she was deemed to have played the public for a fool and opprobrium was unleashed. (Imagine how she would have fared in these days of social media!) I agree with Laura Thompson as to the particular disapproval heaped upon women who have apparently transgressed.

Agatha's snobberies and prejudices, as they appear in her work and her life, are characterised with some justice as both products of her time and as more complex and nuanced than is often supposed, although the author lost me somewhat with a comparison to the present day "mistreatment" of Brexiteers! I also felt she harped rather too much on Agatha's weight gain and supposed loss of youthful attractiveness, with snide asides such as "...[she was] a woman of substance.... a little too much substance, by then". Archie's unfaithfulness is deemed a consequence of this.

While I didn't necessarily agree with Laura Thompson's position on everything, it's undoubtedly an interesting and insightful read and I learned a lot I hadn't known about Agatha's life (indeed I realised I really hadn't known that much).

I'm inspired, anyway to reread all the Christies in publication order (while I'm sure I've read them all at some point, it's been at least thirty years ago in some cases). I've even downloaded an app to keep track. So watch this space.

Book review: Eight Detectives by Alex Pavesi

Many years earlier, maths professor Grant McAllister published a research paper, The Permutations of Detective Fiction, which sought to give a mathematical definition of a murder mystery. It also served as the appendix to a book written by McAllister whereby his theories were distilled into seven short stories, self-published as a collection, which provide examples of the various permutations of suspects, detective and victim. 

Eight Detectives comprises those stories interspersed with conversations between Grant and Julia Hart, an editor interested in republishing the book, who has visited Grant on the Mediterranean island where he now lives in seclusion. Together, they go through the stories one by one, revealing in the process curious discrepancies which seem to refer to a “real-life” unsolved murder. Even the title of the book, The White Murders, references the case - the death of Elizabeth White - though Grant denies any knowledge.

I enjoyed reading the short stories, although some were a bit overly unpleasant at times. My favourite, like Julia’s, was Trouble on Blue Pearl Island, a faithful homage to Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. (It’s notable that Christie’s works contain various examples of McAllister’s permutations - the murder where all the suspects did it, the detective as murderer, etc.) The eventual truth about Grant is very Christie-esque. 

I’ll admit, I was a bit relieved that the research paper referred to wasn’t appended here as well. I’m not sure I could have got through that.

I’d never have picked up on the discrepancies which Julia spots - I’m just not that careful a reader. Hats off to anyone who did.

While I enjoyed the stories, I liked the last part of the book best, where we learn more about what has really been going on, and the rug was pulled from under the reader more than once.

There’ve been a few examples lately of the detective story within a story format (Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders and Moonflower Murders spring to mind) and it makes for an intriguing and juicy framework (and fun to write, I imagine). Eight Detectives is very cleverly constructed and the short story framework worked well in avoiding taking the reader too far out of the overarching narrative. I enjoyed it a lot.

Book review: Cover Your Tracks by Claire Askew

Having really enjoyed the first one, I started this under the mistaken impression that it was the second in the Helen Birch series; turns out it’s actually the third, and I’ve missed one. Seems like I missed some pretty important stuff, too.  So, that needs sorting asap.

Anyway aside from some stuff in Helen’s personal life, it didn’t affect my ability to follow the plot. When a man walks into her Edinburgh police station to report his elderly parents missing and demand the police investigate, DI Birch doesn’t initially take it too seriously - after all, Robertson Bennet admits he’s been estranged from them for many years. But it soon becomes clear that there’s far more to the story than meets the eye, and a potential link to a number of unsolved cases, as well as serious concerns about the well-being of one individual...

I loved the plot, the Edinburgh setting, and the characters of Helen and her DC Amy Kato, who both go above and beyond in their quest to uncover the truth. The story is quite hard hitting and emotional at times, and the last few pages had me in tears.

(I knew as soon as I heard one person’s name who they were - but as it was near the end and revealed a page later, it wasn’t exactly a spoiler!)

Great read, and I’m now off to catch up with the one I missed.

Book review: Moon Dog by Jane Elson

I loved the cover and description of this children's book, but I'm a bit ashamed to say that I'm not sure I'd have opted to read it if I'd known exactly what it was about, as it's very distressing and indeed heartbreaking at times - suffice to say that the dog next door isn't the only dog who needs saving in this book.

That said, it has an important message and it wouldn't be possible to adequately convey that message without going in hard at times. Nevertheless, I think if I'd read it when I was the target age, I'd have been traumatised!

The story follows Marcus and Delilah, who are opposites in some ways - most obviously in that he's incredibly tall and she's extremely tiny - but they have far more in common than that which divides them. Both are brave, caring and resourceful, both have difficulties at home, and most of all, both adore dogs and long for a dog of their own. When a new dog appears in the garden of the house next door to Marcus - who he names "Moon Dog" and who doesn't appear to be particularly well cared for by the two men who seem to come and go - the children start to uncover some unpleasant truths...

A very readable story with a powerful message.

Book review: Moonflower Murders by Anthony Horowitz

I haven’t read Magpie Murders, the first in this series, which now seems like a shocking oversight and one I intend to remedy as soon as possible, because Moonflower Murders was tremendous fun. Also, I love the cover. Just look at that cover!

Susan Ryeland, formerly working in publishing, currently running a hotel in Crete with her partner Andreas, is approached by the owners of the Branlow Hotel to investigate a murder which happened there some years earlier, where the wrong man may have been convicted... and which appears to have a bearing on the very current disappearance of their daughter, Cecily. It’s all mixed up with a detective novel  by one of Susan’s former authors, Alan Conway, now deceased. And Alan’s book, Atticus Pünd Takes the Case, appears here in its entirety.

His detective, Atticus Pünd, very much resembles a German Poirot without the moustaches, complete with mansion flat and formidable secretary, though Madeline Cain plays a bigger role than Miss Lemon ever did. (Christie - or rather, her alter ego Mary Westmacott - gets a name check within Alan Conway’s text.)

The novel-within-a-novel was tremendously engaging - the only issue for me was that by the time I’d read the entire “Alan Conway “ novel (Atticus Pünd Takes the Case) I’d almost completely forgotten what was going on with Susan’s narrative.

There’s one particular revelation at the end which I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner... but I didn’t. I wonder if any readers did? We can’t say Horowitz didn’t play fair!

Fantastic read and I’m now off to read Magpie Murders.

Book review: Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë

I've never read Anne Brontë's books - she only wrote two, Agnes Grey and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - but thought it was probably time I did, especially after learning how feminist they are now often considered to be. Agnes Grey is a lot shorter, and was also the first one chronologically, so I decided to start with that. It's clearly strongly autobiographical, drawing heavily on Anne's own experiences working as a governess for various families.

The first chapter is largely scene setting - Anne, I mean Agnes's father is a poor clergyman and due to difficult financial circumstances, Anne, I mean Agnes, decides to apply for a position as governess. She's quite enthusiastic about the prospect, in fact. But no sooner has she arrived at Wellwood Hall than it becomes apparent that governessing, for this family at least, is set to be considerably less fun than she'd anticipated. The children, especially eldest boy Thomas, are uncontrollable monsters; the adults both chilly and demanding, blaming Agnes for their offspring's diabolical behaviour. 

Her next job is less overtly unpleasant, though Agnes has little in common with her charges: selfish, coquettish teenager Rosalie, tomboyish Matilda and some random boys.

The story itself is fairly straightforward and down to earth, its great strength - unique at the time - being its accurate depiction of the governess's lot: "working as a hireling among strangers, despised and trampled upon by old and young".

Agnes observes - and silently condemns - the cruelties and petty snobberies of the families who employ her, contrasting sharply with the kindness she values in others, such as villager Nancy and the curate, Mr Weston. The unpleasant character of certain characters is illustrated through their cruelty to animals - Thomas seeks out birds to torture, with no objections raised by his family; Mr Hatfield kicks Nancy's cat and hits a dog with his cane. It's really all quite distressing.

I liked the way Agnes never "does herself down" - she has a realistic awareness of her own strengths, weaknesses and values, and considers herself the equal of the wealthier people around her, resenting - rightly - that she is not treated as such.

While "Agnes Grey" lacks the Gothic melodrama of Anne's sisters' better-known works, it's both enjoyable and important, sharply observed, and revealing of the social relations of the time and the very limited paths open to an intelligent, educated, yet impoverished young woman.

Book review: The Vanished Bride by Bella Ellis

The Brontë sisters (occasionally aided, not always helpfully, by Branwell) turn amateur sleuths in the first in a series by Rowan Coleman writing as “Bella Ellis” (I see what she did there).

When a young woman, wife of a local landowner, disappears - apparently murdered - amid a scene of terrifying violence, Charlotte, Emily and Anne feel compelled to become “detectors” in a bid to find out what has become of poor Elizabeth Chester. Limited as they are by their sex (nobody wants to talk of important matters to mere women) and financial resources, they nevertheless have the benefit of intelligence, determination and boundless imagination. The quest to unravel the mystery takes them in interesting and at times frightening directions.

It was an excellent read, with the distinct characters, as we know them, of the Brontë “girls” shining through, and strands of their known history woven throughout (I was drawn to look up “Miss Celia Amelia”, aka Reverend William Weightman, and he did indeed exist). Of course it would be unthinkable that disguised elements of such adventures, had they really occurred, hadn’t made their way into the Brontë sisters’ writings, and elements of the plot clearly echo, or foreshadow - whatever the right word is here - incidents in their novels.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from The Vanished Bride, but found I enjoyed it very much... a genuinely gripping plot, a very satisfying ending and some insightful observations regarding women’s lives in that era. Coleman is not the first to write about real writers turning detective (Nicola Upson’s excellent “Josephine Tey” series springs to mind), nor is she the first to write a fictionalised account of the lives of the Brontës, but she’s done a great job here of both telling a compelling story and rendering her famous protagonists sympathetic and believable.

Of course, there’s no evidence that Charlotte, Emily and Anne ever really investigated crimes in their spare time. But then - as the author points out in her epilogue - there’s also no evidence that they didn’t.

Book review: The Push by Ashley Audrain

“The women in this family, we’re different...”

The Push tells of a young woman named Blythe who falls in love with and marries a man named Fox, although we rarely actually read his name - Blythe's narrative is largely addressed, in the second person, to her husband. And then they have a baby, Violet. And that's where it all breaks down.

Blythe's never been confident in her own ability to be a mother. After all, her own mother, Cecilia, failed miserably in the role, and her grandmother, Etta, was even worse. (We see snippets of the lives of both of these earlier women.) Cliché though it's now become, its hard not to think of *that* Philip Larkin poem, as woman hands on misery to woman. Only lovely childhood neighbour Mrs Ellington provides an example of good mothering.

Frequent comparisons have been made with Lionel Shriver's We Need to Talk About Kevin, which I've never quite been able to bring myself to read, so I can't comment on that. The relationship between Blythe and Violet is disconnected, with the girl clearly preferring her father from early on. But is the threat and violence Blythe perceives in her daughter real, or does she see only what she subconsciously expects to? It's never quite established.

The Push is a fascinating and compulsive read, acutely observed and very well written. It's also hauntingly dark and disturbing at times, particularly the devastating event at its core.

Book review: The Postscript Murders by Elly Griffiths

“Do you think ninety year olds can’t be murdered?”

When home carer Natalka finds Peggy Smith dead in her chair, it looks like death from natural causes, but Natalka has her doubts, particularly when she finds a business card describing Peggy as a “Murder Consultant”.

DS Harbinder Kaur, Best Gay Sikh Detective in West Sussex (it’s a small field, probably of one) finds herself involved in the case, along with ex-monk Benedict and retired BBC producer Edwin, as they investigate mysterious goings on in the world of crime writing.

I knew I was going to love this book from the first page - it was right up my street. It’s the second in a series featuring Harbinder Kaur, and I haven’t read the first, but I don’t think this was a hindrance. I’ll definitely need to read it, though.
(I live in Aberdeen, so it was also hard to resist a story partly set there - and I’ve attended events at the Granite Noir crime writing festival, too, which the one here resembles.)

Lovely read, thoroughly enjoyed it.

Book review: Invisible Girl by Lisa Jewell

Lisa Jewell is one of those writers whose books I will always snap up instantly, and with Invisible Girl she’s at the top of her game. It’s a hugely engaging and satisfying read.

The invisible girl of the title is seventeen-year-old Saffyre - a name which should have seemed awful, with its “creative” spelling, but I actually kind of liked it, maybe because I liked the character so much. She was magnificent.

Part of the story is told from Saffyre’s perspective. Then there’s Cate, who’s married to child psychologist Roan and mother of two teenagers, Georgia and Josh.

Thirty-three year old Owen lives with his aunt across the road from Cate and Roan, and has never had a sexual relationship. He’s seen as a bit of a weirdo and a loner. When complaints are made about him at work, Owen’s sense of anger and injustice begins to lead him down a dangerous path. When Saffyre disappears, he’s an obvious suspect.

Meanwhile, a string of sex attacks in the area strike fear into Cate’s heart in more ways than one.

I absolutely loved this book - largely, I think, because of Saffyre herself. All the characterisation is brilliant, though. It’s possible to like and sympathise with Owen even though some of his behaviour is, at best, deeply misguided - Lisa Jewell does an excellent job of sensitively depicting how he’s reached that place.

The toxic masculinity of certain characters is balanced by characters like Saffyre’s uncle, who show a very different image of what it means to be a man.

As I said at the top of the review, I found this a very enjoyable and satisfying read - highly recommended.

Book review: One Moment by Linda Green

Finishing One Moment, I really felt like I'd experienced something very special. Linda Green has woven an incredibly compelling and timely story which made me laugh, cry, fume with anger and nod in agreement so many times. By the end, I was in pieces.

The story is narrated alternately by ten-year-old Finn and fifty-nine-year old Kaz, and they are both incredibly endearing characters. Finn is different from most other boys (for one thing, he has a passion for gardening rather than football, and his hero is Alan Titchmarsh) and suffers at school accordingly - his mum, Hannah, is his most steadfast supporter and source of comfort. Kaz works in a café and cares for her brother Terry, who has schizophrenia (and an obsession with Matthew Kelly). Kaz's voice in particular, as an older working-class woman and informal carer, felt like one which is rarely heard in fiction (or elsewhere for that matter) and she was a brilliantly realised and entirely admirable character who shows great bravery and resilience.

My heart broke for both of them at times, but particularly for Finn, because how could it not? Kaz and Terry's situation too was incredibly well described and entirely believable. I very much appreciated the sympathetic and sensitive treatment of Terry's mental disorder, but the story also serves as a scathing indictment of an uncaring benefits system and the impacts of austerity.

Issues of bullying, poverty, marital breakdown, a mental health crisis and more are dealt with realistically and unflinchingly, but there is more than enough humour and humanity to ensure the tone is never too dark.

The story alternates between "before" and "after" segments (the turning point being an unspecified horrific event, the general nature though not the details of which is quickly apparent) and the structure did confuse me a little at times, particularly as "before" got closer to "after", but only a little. I suppose the suspense of Kaz and Terry's situation "before" was lessened slightly as we already know more or less what happens to them "after". But honestly, there was quite enough suspense elsewhere for this really not to matter.

Wonderful in so many ways, but most especially in the relationship between Finn and Kaz. An interesting end note from Linda Green remarks that "Finn needed a friend, and in Kaz, I like to think he found one of the best". Oh, he did.

Book Review: The Magnificent Sons by Justin Myers

The Magnificent Sons is a coming out story, but with added layers and twists. Jake D’Arcy, regarded as the boring one by his boisterous family, has never really fitted in. Despite a lifelong lurking suspicion that he might not be entirely heterosexual, Jake has firmly repressed it, acquiring a long term girlfriend and a group of straight mates. His flamboyant young brother Trick (Patrick) is the gay one in the family, coming out on his seventeenth birthday to the surprise of literally nobody.

While everybody’s cool with Trick’s sexuality, nobody has ever considered that Jake might not be 100% straight, and his dawning acceptance - and announcement - of his bisexuality is a shock to those around him.

Jake’s parents’ struggles with him being bisexual feel real, though Amelia’s asking him if that meant he fancied everybody didn’t necessarily seem like something she would say. Though maybe it’s forgivable in the circumstances. Justin Myers does a really good job of rendering Jake’s feelings of slight disconnection from both the straight and gay worlds, and other people’s discriminatory or simply uncomprehending attitudes - still a thing, even in these days of pansexuality and sexual fluidity. Likewise, the effects on other people - notably Jake’s girlfriend and brother- are not minimised. The tense relationship between the two brothers is a key element of the plot.

It’s often hilariously well-observed (colleague Harry’s predilection for compound-noun insults was spot on) and the characters are really believable, I found I could visualise them all so clearly - Jake’s family, friends, and the people he meets on his journey of self discovery... (which sounds far more dull and worthy than it actually is). Trick and his pals Kia and Hot Will are particularly memorable.

A really enjoyable read - thanks!