Pre-Fame Poirot: The Underdog and Other Stories | 1951

(image from here)

"Lord," said Japp, stretching himself backward, "I believe I could manage another egg, and perhaps a rasher or two of bacon. What do you say, Captain?"

"I'm with you," I returned heartily. "What about you, Poirot?"

Poirot shook his head.

"One must not so replenish the stomach that the brain refuses to function," he remarked.

-The Underdog & Other Stories, p. 108

The Sum of It:
I'm back on the short stories train this week! This week's collection is The Underdog and Other Stories. Many of these little gems have been in other short story collections we have read this year, but two were new to me - and both quite fun indeed!

The Market Basing Mystery is an obvious first attempt of Agatha's later short story, Murder in the Mews. Poirot, Japp, and Hastings are basically on a nice crime solvers retreat weekend in the country having brunch when they are called to the scene of what is first deemed a suicide, but the doctor on the scene is sure it can't be! The dead gentlemen (a reclusive fellow named Protheroe #murderatthevicarage!) interacted mainly with his dedicated housekeeper, Miss Clegg, who doesn't have much to say about her master's death. However, two randos had recently showed up to stay with Protheroe, and Miss Clegg found THAT very mysterious. It just takes a little time of handkerchief and cigarette investigating for Poirot to sniff out the culprit!

In The Lemesurier Inheritance, Poirot and Hastings run into an old acquaintance of Hastings at dinner. This young fellow, Captain Vincent Lemesurier, is quickly called away because his father is gravely ill. After he leaves, Poirot learns the sad (and rather epicly confusing, if I'm being honest) history of the Lemesurier family. If I have this right, great-great, etc. grandpa Lemesurier was like crazy I think and thought his wife was fooling around behind his back and then also there's a thing where the first born sons of the Lemesuriers always die and never get to inherit the vast fortune and the fortune always goes to third or sixth sons or distant cousins or whatnot. Anyway, Poirot and Hastings are a little taken aback when they find out that Captain Vincent has jumped out of the train and died on his way to go see his dying father! Thus continues the "curse" of the Lemesurier first borns, as Vincent stood to inherit his father's estate. Time goes by, and more Lemesuriers die until the fortune finally goes to a Hugo Lemesurier. However, the curse is apparently still going strong because Hugo's American wife pays Poirot a visit and says that her young first-born son, Ronald (who has curly auburn hair #important), has been nearly killed several times! The only person who could benefit from Ronald's death is Ronald's even more baby brother (we are talking like a five-year-old here) and that just doesn't seem plausible, says Poirot. Poirot heads over to the Lemesurier home to get to the bottom of this "curse" and finds out there is something shady going on FOR SURE.

The YOA Treatment:
It's interesting to get a taste in these short stories of Poirot & Co. in their fairly early days of crime solving. Of course Poirot had a career with the police back in Belgium before he moved to London, but these stories in Underdog (and more to come when we get to Poirot's Early Cases) show Poirot when he is solving British crimes, but has not reached the realm of international fame that he has in books like The ABC Murders, Death on the Nile, etc. He doesn't go around saying "well of course you must have heard of me, etc.", because people really don't know that yet. There are a few stories (I'm thinking particularly of the title story and The King of Clubs where a bona fide prince gets involved) where Poirot is investigating a more high-level case. However, many are more commonplace mysteries: ladies wondering if their husbands are poisoning them, missing cooks, checking out some potentially shady business at a party, etc. It's nice to see that Poirot has to pay his dues just like the rest of us! I can't wait to see more of his early life in Poirot's Early Cases.

- A.

The Old Man and the Twee: The Body in the Library | 1941

Image from the blog Pulp Covers

"Downstairs in the lounge, by the third pillar from the left, there sits an old lady with a sweet, placid, spinsterish face and a mind that has plumbed the depths of human iniquity and taken it as all in the day's work. Her name's Miss Marple. She comes from the village of St. Mary Mead, which is a mile and a half from Gossington; she's a friend of the Bantrys and, where crime is concerned, she's the goods, Conway." 
- The Body in the Library, p. 101

The Sum of It:

Yayyyy you guys it's Miss Marple! This is only like the second legit full Miss Marple novel I've gotten to read this year and I have been so excited about it. I remained excited through the reading of it, because this one is great (is that starting to sound like a blog cliche? For real though, so many of them are really great, which is why Agatha has been crowned Queen of Mystery millions of times over in loads of countries. So we're all on board, yeah?) It all begins in an "Oh What a Beautiful Morning"-esque scene at Miss Marple's friend Dolly Bantry's estate #Oklahoma #UKnotOK #RodgersandHammersteinandAgatha. Don't believe me? Give this a whirl: 

"Mrs. Bantry was dreaming. Her sweet peas had just taken a First at the flower show. The vicar, dressed in cassock and surplice, was giving out the prizes in church. His wife wandered past, dressed in a bathing suit, but, as is the blessed habit of dreams, this fact did not arouse the disapproval of the parish in the way it would assuredly have done in real life. 

Mrs. Bantry was enjoying her dream a good deal. She usually did enjoy those early-morning dreams that were terminated by the arrival of tea. Somewhere in her inner consciousness was an awareness of the usual noises of the household. The rattle of the curtain rings on the stairs as the housemaid drew them, the noises of the second housemaid's dustpan and brush in the passage outside. In the distance the heavy noise of the front-door bolt being drawn back.

Another day was beginning. In the meantime, she must extract as much pleasure as possible from the flower show, for already its dreamlike quality was becoming apparent."

In some of her more lyrical writing, Agatha is basically depicting waking up in a grand house as the opening scene to a Broadway musical. We half expect Mrs. Bantry to subsequently be dressed by birds, BUT INSTEAD she is awoken by a quivering housemaid who busts in the door to inform the Bantrys that there is a body in the library!

Turns out there is a random stranger's corpse in the library, a young woman with platinum blonde hair, too much makeup (even in death), a cheap dress, and varnished fingers and toes. Who is this girl?? Why is she dead in the Bantrys' library? How did she get there? So many mysteries right away, and Mrs. Bantry naturally calls in Miss Marple tout suite. Eventually we learn that she's a temporary dance hostess from a resort hotel in the area who had recently gained the favor of a wealthy and aged hotel guest, Conway Jefferson, who is wheelchair-bound, though quite acute otherwise. Bantry had recently decided that he was going to adopt this rando (whose name, in life, was Ruby) and bequeath upon  her a fortune, leaving his daughter-in-law, her son, and his son-in-law, totally up a creek (his actual children died in a plane crash and he had been keeping these two semi-relatives close since then). Right away, then, there's a couple suspects: the two semi-relatives who were on the brink of being bumped out of a fortune. One problem: both have alibis. Agh so whodunnit?? The rest of the cast involves a bridge hostess, tennis coach/handsome dancing pro, a dude who can't find his car, a man who works in films, a girl guide (aka girl scout), and even a quick stop-in with our friends at the St. Mary Mead vicarage from #blogfavorite Murder at the Vicarage!

There are like four detectives on the case, one of whom is familiar with Miss Marple and wisely advises everyone else to let her in on the huddle, because he knows her to be one sharp lady. As usual, we get quite a few St. Mary Mead anecdotes-as-evidence, including a frog jumping out of a clock, as well as some Miss Marple realness on how the world is dark and full of terrors #thenightisdarkandfullofterrors. In part because the ending is not quite the same as the tv Marple version, I did NOT know who the culprit was til she FINALLY revealed it at the very end. 

The YOA Treatment:

So there's a bit of treatment in that summary, but this book provided yet more evidence that Miss Marple is really a winner. I think both of us going into this year felt sure we were Poirot devotees, and have come to realize that Miss Marple is at least giving him a run for his money. She is so clever, yet unassuming, and gets to the heart of the problem each time. In her autobiography, Agatha notes that her real interest in murder mysteries is not the criminal, but the victim. Miss Marple seems to reflect that interest in her detecting as well, always sympathetic. 

Agatha also seems to really enjoy giving her characters some flaws, and where  Poirot is quite conceited and so particular as to be ridiculous at times, Miss Marple's nosiness, seemingly absent-minded human interaction style, and frank statements sometimes rub other characters the wrong way. However, what she may lack in manners, in my opinion, she more than makes up for with her truly dark sensibility about the general depravity and evilness of the human condition #heartofdarkness. All through this book, she's cautioning people to basically not give anyone too much benefit of the doubt, and in the end, that's the reason she solves the mystery and leaves the police in her dust. 

This book was a fun read and satisfies the Marple craving nicely, for those who are so inclined (or even for those who don't know they are!)

- E.

The Tale of Jerry and Joanna: The Moving Finger | 1943

(image from here)

"The great thing in these cases is to keep an absolutely open mind. Most crimes, you see, are so absurdly simple. This one was. Quite sane and straightforward—and quite understandable—in an unpleasant way, of course." - Miss Jane Marple, The Moving Finger, p. 180

The Sum of It:
The Moving Finger has always been one of my favorite Agatha stories (incidentally, it was one of her favorites too!): the plot is very clever, it has a lot of romance (always a plus), and has some very Tommy and Tuppence-esque witty characters in brother and sister protagonist duo Jerry and Joanna Burton.

Recently-injured-and-now-convelescing Jerry Burton (also this book's narrator) and his sister Joanna begin the book by moving to the small country village of Lymstock for some quality R&R. ALAS they find the village quite twitterpated because someone has been sending nasty anonymous letters to nearly every resident. Jerry and Joanna aren't really bothered by the whole thing, but are quite fascinated to know who is behind them. As they settle into their new house (called Little Furze #namegoals) they make nice with the neighbors, namely:

The Symmingtons: lawyer dad, neurotic mom, spacey yet lovable older daughter, two little boys, and a hot nanny.
Mr. Pye: eccentric bachelor who knows all the town gossip
The Dane Calthrops: Vicar and fairly terrifying wife
Miss Emily Barton: Jerry and Joanna's landlady (Bartons AND Burtons - that won't be confusing at all…will it?)
The Griffiths: Dr. Owen and nosy sister Aimee.
There is also an appropriate sprinkling of housekeepers and housemaids, etc.

The anonymous letters seem to just be an in-bad-taste prank until Mrs. Symmington is found #DEAD, apparently having committed suicide after reading one of the letters. It all seems a straightforward deal, but at the same time, something about it seems fishy and Jerry has more questions than the detectives are willing to ask. Things REALLY heat up when the Symmingtons's maid, Agnes Waddle, is found #MURDERED in a cupboard under the stairs (#notHarry'scupboard). Now that there's an actual murder to solve, a Superintendent Nash shows up to sort it all out. Or at least tries to...

BUT WAIT, you might ask (I certainly did), isn't this a Miss Marple book? Where is Miss Marple? Fear not, she does show up quite near the end as a seemingly random guest of the Dane Calthrops, knits unobtrusively during teas and get-togethers, chats with Jerry, and comes up with a sneaky little plan to oust the killer! I remember the first time I read this feeling SO confident that I had solved the whole thing, but of course the simple answer was quite different, yet right under my nose the whole time!

The YOA Treatment:
As with many of her novels, Agatha has chosen a man as the narrator for this novel. In much the same way as Luke Fitzgerald from Murder is Easy, Jerry Burton plays more of the being-nosy-from-the-sidelines sort of character instead of the pretty formal sidekick-esque Dr. Sheppard from Roger Ackroyd or observer who gets told a lot of secrets Leonard Clement from Murder at the Vicarage. I admire Agatha for not sticking too closely to a formulaic narration style. As much as I love the Hastings/Poirot repartee, you do know what to expect with a Hastings-narrated novel. Being open to telling her stories through the eyes of different men (and women! I'm lookin' at you, Nurse Amy Leatheren from Murder in Mesopotamia!) is part of what makes Dame Agatha such a writing star for me.

As I was considering the subject of narration, I found a couple of interesting articles about book narrators:

Check out this article about books with unreliable narrators and this article about books written by women with great male narrators

Spoiler alert: Agatha makes both lists :)

-A.

The Real Housewives of St. Mary Mead: The Murder at the Vicarage | 1930

(image from here)

"If I were at any time to set out on a career of deceit, it would be of Miss Marple that I should be afraid."
- Leonard Clement, The Murder at the Vicarage, p. 194

The Sum of It:
This week we finally joined the host of delightful characters in the tiny village of St. Mary Mead in their crime adventures with #DameAgatha's first full-length novel "starring" Miss Jane Marple. We say "starring" because, while Miss Marple does in fact do the majority of the crime solving, the events of The Murder at the Vicarage actually unfold through the eyes (and narration) of the lovable, middle-aged vicar, Leonard Clement.

Leonard lives in St. Mary Mead with his MUCH younger wife (#cradlerobber), hysterically named Griselda (NOTE: Griselda has become one of our most beloved Agatha characters! See more about her below), and his teenage nephew, Dennis. The three are a fairly merry trio: Griselda loves the  gossip (#teaandscandal), Dennis loves the local bigwig's daughter, Lettice Protheroe, and Leonard loves to sit back and watch it all happen. Old Leonard's life get a bit more exciting when he stumbles upon the local bigwig's wife, Anne Protheroe, making out with young, local hottie/misunderstood artist, Lawrence Redding. Things get even MORE interesting when Leonard comes home one day to find Anne's cranky old husband, Lucias, #MURDERED in his study (and bleeding on the carpets, so rude)!

Just as the investigation gets underway, Lawrence Redding confesses! Then Anne Protheroe confesses! Everyone can't wait to confess! But, of course, it can't be that tidy. Their confessions don't fit in with the facts of the crime, literally everyone in St. Mary Mead had some sort of beef with dearly departed Lucias (Miss Marple counts 7 suspects), and so the true killer must be found. Who else but Miss Marple to help the police sort out the whole nasty business?

A Brief Interlude to Pay Homage to Griselda:
The pure delight of Vicarage rests in its characters, and in particular, the hilarious interactions between Leonard and Griselda Clement. Leonard first describes his wife thusly:

"My wife's name is Griselda - a highly suitable name for a parson's wife. But there the suitability ends. She is not in the least meek."

He goes on to recount how they had a whirlwind romance, she had loads of boyfriends, but chose him in the end because, in her words, "It's so much nicer to be a secret and delightful sin to anybody than to be a feather in his cap." Griselda hosts "tea and scandal" group with all the village biddies on Wednesday afternoons at 4:30 (Miss Marple included!), is proudly sitting for one of Lawrence Redding's paintings (she likes to tease that she sits in the nude), and is more than once called upon for Nephew Amusing Parties. Griselda is pure delight and her witty banter with Leonard is very reminiscent of the Tommy and Tuppence relationship that we also love so much!

The YOA Treatment:
With this story we get our first real introduction to Miss Marple in her natural habitat, the village busybody with keen observational skills and a tendency to expect the worst of people. After long familiarity with Miss Marple as a beloved figure in fiction, it was interesting to be reminded that not everyone finds her nosiness charming, with many of her neighbors talking about her with a verbal eye roll. By the time the mystery is solved, many of her fellow villagers have developed a bit more respect for her skill and nuance, but it was good to be reminded that she's not just the sweet old lady we get an impression of from the tv adaptations. (We also meet Nephew Raymond who is basically an early 20th century hipster, all snobbery and boredom, kind of hilarious).

Agatha seemed to take particular pleasure in writing Miss Marple, and her readers found a connection with her new character as well. Vicarage is considered one of Agatha's best works and even her contemporary, Dorothy L. Sayers, wrote to #DameAgatha to give her approval: "Dear old Tabbies [speaking of Miss Marple and her old lady cronies] are the only possible right kind of female detective and Miss M is lovely...I think this is the best you have done - almost."

-A. & E.