Un-cancelled Dinner Plans: Lord Edgware Dies 2.0

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"'I've heard you're just the most marvellous man that ever existed. Somebody's got to get me out of the tangle I'm in and I feel you're just the man to do it.'

We got out at the second floor and she led the way along the corridor, paused at a door and entered one of the most opulent of the Savoy suites.

Casting her white fur wrap on one chair, and her small jewelled bag on the table, the actress sank on to a chair and exclaimed:

'M. Poirot, somehow or other I've just got to get rid of my husband!'"

-Lord Edgware Dies, p. 14

The Sum of It:

This story has, for some reason, always been another one of my favorites, so I was very excited to give it a re-read during this 2018 Year of Agatha! This is my third Poirot read in a row, and I am not mad about it. Poirot is living his best life (like he does) in London, hanging out with Hastings and going to fancy dinners and parties and theater-whatnots. Lord Edgware Dies opens with just such an event - an evening of comedy with an American actress and impressionist named Carlotta Adams. At the performance, Poirot and Hastings meet another American actress named Jane Wilkinson, and, in true Agatha fashion, Jane enlists Poirot's assistance with a little trouble in her personal life. She needs help getting rid of her husband #gasp! Apparently her richie-rich lord husband (Lord Edgware of the book title Lord Edgware #doomed) is kind of a meanie and won't give her a divorce even though she needs one very badly so she can marry another lord who is, also apparently, nicer and richer than her current husband. Poirot is quite taken in with the whole American husky voice hottie thing Jane has going on, and, never able to say no to a lady in distress, says he he will do everything he can to assist her. "Great!" Jane says. "Can you run over to my house and convince him to give me a divorce? K BYE!" 

So Poirot and Hastings trudge over to have a chat with Lord Edgware. Lord E. says hi this is kinda weird, but um, yeah I definitely already told Jane via letter that I was down with the divorce so....#hmmm? Poirot and Hastings are like okay yes also weird, but our work here is done and go to tell Jane Wilkinson the good news. Jane is so thrilled to hear all her second wedding plans can move forward, she decides to go out to a fancy dinner party that evening that she hadn't planned on attending AFTER ALL!

HOWEVER, it can't be that easy, can it? Whilst Jane is dining the night away, someone who looks just like her has stabbed Lord Edgeware to death (#spoilers #notreallythough)!!! Stranger still, the next day Carlotta Adams (seen by the entire cast of characters performing her dead-on impression of Jane Wilkinson earlier in the book) is ALSO found dead! Loads of people wanted Lord Edgeware dead, but who could also want the blame cast on poor Jane? As always, only Poirot can sniff out the mastermind behind this tangled tale.

The YOA Treatment:

It's been fun to go back to read our thoughts and feelings on each of these books from our first year of Agatha and see how they compare to our re-readings. What is particularly funny about this book is in 2016 Emily noted she listened to Lord Edgware Dies on Audible and thoroughly enjoyed it, and I happened to do the exact same thing for my read this year! Hugh Fraser is a #nationaltreasure and does a perfect job of reading this book. If you're looking to dabble in Agatha Christie on Audible, I highly suggest finding anything he reads!

One fun tidbit I learned about this book involves the dedication. I always love investigating those Agatha dedicated books to, because they usually have interesting stories. This one is no exception! Lord Edgware Dies is dedicated to Dr. and Mrs. Campbell Thompson. Dr. Thompson was an archeologist who enlisted Max Mallowan (Agatha's second husband) to come help on his dig in Ninevah. Apparently the Mallowan-Christies and Thompsons were pretty good pals, but Dr. Thompson was not a fan of spending money and was a bit perturbed that Agatha wanted to spend money at the dig on a good writing table so she could work on her latest book. Thompson must have somehow gotten over it, because write Agatha did, and thanked him and his wife for their friendship and hospitality by dedicating this book to them. 

When the finished product finally came out in 1932, it was well received, and I completely understand why. It has some great characters, a puzzling plot, and a truly smashing conclusion. If you're looking for a classic Poirot to read (or re-read!) this summer, I heartily recommend it!

-A.

I'll be Watching You: The Long Room | 2016

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"After a sudden snowstorm from the west, Monday morning is cold and dreary; the pavements are slippery, the coats of the crowd crushed together in the trains reek of frying and wet dog, but Stephen is on his way to work with a lift of the heart, in spite of feeling a bit queasy. Monday mornings are good mornings now; they bring new hope and an end to the barren wastes of the weekend, which are devoid of Helen. Mondays used to weigh leadenly on him, but ever since one morning in October they have been as welcome as a lovers' reunion." - The Long Room, p. 29

The Sum of It:
I am a huge fan of the film The Lives of Others (a terrific German film about Secret Police spying on a "suspicious" couple and the effect it has on their relationship: 10/10 - would highly recommend!!), so I was very intrigued by the premise of one of our spring reads, The Long Room by Francesca Kay. Long Room is set in 1980s London, with Cold War drama still totally a thing, spies are also totally majorly sneaking about. One such spy is Stephen Donaldson: a single young man with a sweet old mom and a big old crush on a girl he [sort of] knows from work. However, this crush develops a bit differently than the usual boy-meets-girl. See, Stephen spends his days at the Institute (home base for spies such as himself), listening to tape recordings from wiretaps of potential baddies who are the "subjects" of the Institute's spying. Stephen has been given a particularly important listening assignment (codenamed PHOENIX) by boss Rollo Buckingham (his actual name, and thus far my favorite character name in my readings this year! #British) to listen in on a potential double agent within the organization (#gasp!) HOWEVER, Stephen has fallen head over heels in heart love with the wife of subject PHOENIX, named Helen. Stephen rushes through his everyday work, comes charging in first thing on Monday mornings, and even stays late at work (sometimes when he shouldn't...#oops) to "spend time" listening to Helen walk around or cook dinner or fight with her husband (#hmm).

If it sounds unhealthy (and frankly a bit creepy) it's because it IS. Boss Rollo determines Stephen's special investigation isn't really going anywhere and tells Stephen his days of listening in on the PHOENIXes are numbered AND STEPHEN CANNOT HAVE THAT, so he does what any other spy in love with one of their subjects' wives even though he has never met her would do: he starts making things up...

The YOA Treatment:
It was hard for both of us to get into this book at first. Emily read it on the beach in Mexico, and found some tricky dissonance between the sunny beach scene and the cold and misty London portrayed on the pages #hardknocklife, and the eerie tension of the Stephen's increasingly risky behavior was maybe not best suited for a beach read. I couldn't quite put my finger on the reason why it was tough to connect with- it's a slow read at first, but not necessarily boring. I finally discovered what it was making me feel: claustrophobic.

So much of Long Room is set in the close quarters of Stephen's mind: his obsessive thoughts about Helen, his at times pitifully lonely real-world existence, or his awkward social interactions. Francesca Kay has done a masterful job of painting the picture of Stephen's uncomfortable life, which makes his completely unrealistic crush on Helen totally believable. As we were both reading it, Emily and I kept texting each other about how we were so afraid Stephen would get caught in his ultimate web of lies and rule breakings, and while we shan't spoil anything, it is worth giving Kay kudos for her ability to keep us squirming until the last page.

To be completely honest, I did not end up loving this book, probably for the same reason. I did like the time period (it's one I don't know that much about, but would like to), and I appreciated and admired Kay's premise and plot, however, the experience of reading it was at times tough, and the ending felt a bit abrupt and predictable. Again, we don't want to give anything away, but after finishing it, Emily and I also texted about alternate directions we thought the story was going to conclude and wished our protagonist, after all the tense build up of the novel, had gotten a different wrap up. Kay showed her creative chops throughout, and I was expecting her to surprise me more than she did by the time it was all over. SO if you really love Cold War spies, don't mind some bleakness, and are in the market for some fiction that builds like an avalanche of tension towards the end of the tale, give this a try.

- A. (& E.)
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Double, double, toil and trouble: The Pale Horse | 1961

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"There are two methods, it seems to me, of approaching this strange business of the Pale Horse. In spite of the dictum of the White King, it is difficult to achieve simplicity. One cannot, that is to say, 'Begin at the beginning, go on to the end, and then stop.' For where is the beginning? To a historian, that is always the difficulty. At what point in history does one particular portion of history begin? 

In this case, you can begin at the moment when Father Gorman set forth from his presbytery to visit a dying woman. Or you can start before that, on a certain evening in Chelsea." 

- The Pale Horse, Forward

The Sum of It:

This tale of village witches and conspiracy to murder is narrated by a newcomer, an historian in his early thirties named Mark Easterbrook. He got mixed up in the tale somewhat by chance, and it all began for him when he stopped by a fashionably hip espresso bar in Chelsea for a break from his book about Mogul architecture. While he was there, he witnesses a cat fight between two ladies (Agatha uses the b-word! #gasp), one of whom has handfuls of her curly red hair pulled out by the roots, but bravely (so Mark thinks) proclaims it didn't really hurt. He's confused by the hipsters #beatniks, and also by the red-haired girl, whose name, it turns out, is Thomasina Tuckerton. He's even more confused a few days later when he sees her name in the obituaries! 

A bit later, Mark meets up with some friends after seeing Macbeth, and they start talking about whether or not village witches are a real thing, or just a handy scam by creepy old ladies to get free stuff and keep dogs from messing with their chickens #witchpriorities. One of the girls, apparently not the brightest bulb in the box, tries to explain about some folks who do murders for hire over at a place called the Pale Horse, but she gets confused and can't quite explain. Mark brushes off the oddness til this weirdness turns into a series of incidents: he bumps into an old friend who's now a medical examiner when he stops by Mark's recently deceased godmother's house to follow up on a lead. Turns out, the godmother's unique last name was among a list of names found on a murdered Catholic priest! Seems like the list was dictated to the priest by a woman dying of a sudden and mysterious illness. In the course of their conversation, Mark recognizes a couple of other names on the list, one of which is Tuckerton, and starts thinking something wicked this way comes...

Delightfully, Mark is a pal of Ariadne Oliver's, and when he stops by to talk to her about attending a fete' his cousin is putting on in Much Deeping, she has some classic Ariadne/Agatha rants about writing mysteries (ex: "Or drink," said Mrs. Oliver. "I wish I did. Like those American detectives that always have pints or rye conveniently in their desk drawers. It seems to solve all their problems. You know, Mark, I really can't think how anyone ever gets away with a murder in real life. It seems to me that the moment you've done a murder the whole thing is so terribly obvious.") and ultimately agrees to go to the fete' on the condition that she not be forced to go have drinks at a local pub in Much Deeping called The Pale Horse. Mark's curiosity grows, and ultimately he wrangles a visit there when they're in the village, finding it now a home occupied by three decidedly witchy women #Eaglesstyle, who seem more than happy to talk about mysterious ways of killing people. Ultimately, he and the vicar's wife decide he has enough facts to link these supposed witches to a string of mysterious deaths, and with the help of an affable red-headed cutie aptly nicknamed Ginger, he decides to set a trap for evil, never realizing how close he'll come to the real deal. 

The YOA Treatment:

This one is a great read! I keep worrying that the later we get in Agatha's career, the more likely her books will get a little weaker (for one thing, how could anyone be expected to come up with 86 original ideas?!) but I keep bumping into some of the strongest books yet, so once again am forced to conclude that Agatha is superhuman. 

Speaking of original ideas though, Agatha gave herself a good idea for a story in a throwaway anecdote shared by a character in this book as a means of explaining how creepy old ladies can seem like witches, and it turns up again in 1968 as the key premise of a Tommy & Tuppence tale, By the Pricking of My Thumbs! For kicks, here's the section in Pale Horse:

"But I remember being sent once with a message to a doctor at a mental home and I was shown into a room to wait, and there was a nice elderly lady there, sipping a glass of milk. She made some conventional remark about the weather and then suddenly she leaned forward and asked in a low voice: Is it your poor child who's buried there behind the fireplace? And then she nodded her head and said, Twenty-ten exactly. It's always at the same time every day. Pretend you don't notice the blood."

Clearly Agatha was well pleased with the creepiness of that premise, we can't wait to get to By the Pricking of My Thumbs #spineshivers! 

Part of the reason the premise of this book is so engaging is the way that it keeps building and building. Typically, something crazy or mysterious happens and right away the detectives and police are on the case! Agatha cleverly set this one up a little differently, in a way that we see reflected in many modern crime shows, such as Midsomer Murders or even Sherlock, where one crime seems straightforward but something is a little off, and the police are trying to decide whether to just leave it or tease out the loose thread. She pairs that with the series of odd coincidences that ultimately gets Mark Easterbrook involved in trying to solve the mystery, about halfway through the book, by allowing one thing after another to connect the dots for him until he realizes there really is something sketchy going on, and that he might be the only one (besides the Vicar's old wife in Much Deeping) who is willing to dig through the seemingly bogus witchy stuff to figure out where the real crime is. This seemed like a very realistic way for an everyday person to get involved in trying to solve a mystery of some kind, and I enjoyed the new way to approach the story. Well done, again, Dame!

- E. 

The Girl Who Cried Murder: Hallowe'en Party | 1969

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"I saw a murder once," said Joyce.

"Don't be silly, Joyce," said Miss Whitaker, the schoolteacher.

"I did," said Joyce.

"Did you really?" asked Cathie, gazing at Joyce with wide eyes. "Really and truly saw a murder?"

"Of course she didn't," said Mrs. Drake. "Don't say silly things, Joyce."

"I did see a murder," said Joyce. "I did. I did. I did."

-Hallowe'en Party, p. 14-15

The Sum of It:
I present to you the first of two #spookystories this weekend! Our first tale starts on a dark and stormy (well, maybe not specifically stormy...) night in the village of Woodleigh Common. Mrs. Ariadne Oliver is visiting a pal she met on a cruise (#cruisepals #shuffleboard), Judith Butler, and is quasi-helping out at a Halloween party for the local kids. Mrs. Oliver is sitting around, kinda just enjoying being a resident celebrity, and observing the party prep. In what appears to be an attempt to impress Mrs. Oliver, young party attendee Joyce Reynolds blurts out that she has seen a murder once. Everyone rolls their eyes and says don't be ridiculous, Joyce, that's obvi not true. Joyce keeps insisting she has seen a murder based on the fact that she didn't realize it was a murder at the time, but now that she's older, she gets that it was. More eye rolls commence, and then everyone continues going about their Halloween business. It seems like a pretty enjoyable party with treats and games and a local lady who dresses up as a witch. However, the evening turns truly sinister when young Joyce is found #DROWNED in the apple bobbing tub!

Joyce's death appears to be quite definitely #MURDER and Mrs. Oliver is badly shaken up (disturbed to the level of potentially giving up apples! #GASP!) from the whole affair. She rushes to London to visit the only person who can help her: Hercule Poirot. He agrees to look into the case and travels with Mrs. Oliver to Woodleigh Common to get down to investigating. Poirot's first order of business is to see if there was a murder in Woodleigh Common that Joyce could have potentially witnessed. He discovers a great many deaths...but were any of them truly murders?

The YOA Treatment:
I enjoyed this book very much. *(Caveat: I would say a good percentage of my enjoyment came from reading this right before Halloween. Agatha really does her holiday-themed mysteries rather well.)* I adore the Mrs. Oliver/Poirot dynamic, and their relationship works well for this particular story. Mrs. Oliver feels semi-responsible for Joyce's death, as her presence probably sparked Joyce's comments about witnessing a murder, which likely led to her death. It makes sense that Mrs. Oliver would turn to the very best for help to ease her conscience and take the burden of crime solving off her shoulders. The story gets occasionally bogged down in a great deal of time dwelt on sex crimes and the fashion choices of mid-60s teenage boys. There is also a fairly bizarre part that highlights the silliness/sometimes stupidity of tween-aged girls, and yet, I can forgive Agatha all of this because of her use of a single, well-placed clue that got my wheels turning along with Poirot's to ultimately discover Joyce's killer.

-A.

PS: for an absolute treat, I also recommend this young man's Agatha Christie reviews on YouTube. BE WARNED: he does have spoilers. But it's totally worth it.