ANNOUNCEMENT: #Readalong! | Peril at End House

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Dear Readers,

We are so very excited to be nearing the end of our second month of The Year of Agatha (#timeflies #marchmadness #forgetbasketball #justreadagatha)! Thanks in part to the interest several of you have expressed, one thing we want to sprinkle throughout this year is an opportunity for all of you to join us in reading Agatha. As such, we are so pumped to announce that we are planning to have some read along activities (MORE DETAILS TO COME SO STAY TUNED) as we read Peril at End House [aka P@EH] starting the week of March 20th.

P@EH features, in our opinion, one of Agatha's most clever plot lines (according to agathachristie.com, the 1932 New York Times Book Review called it "diabolically clever"), as well as some of our favorite Agatha characters (Poirot! Hastings! Ladies for Hastings to Fall in Love With!, etc.) So prepare to join in on the fun! Dust off your own copy of P@EH (or pop over to your local bookstore or Amazon) and check back in over the next few weeks for more read along details!

-A. & E.

All the Cloaks and All the Daggers: The Big Four | 1927

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"It is a duel to the death, mon ami. You and I on the one side, the Big Four on the other. They have won the first trick; but they have failed in their plan to get me out of the way, and in the future they have to reckon with Hercule Poirot!" - The Big Four, p. 16

The Sum of It:

So you know that thing where you go to see the latest James Bond movie and it's all spy-ish and everyone is constantly dressed in evening wear and you're like yeah, I could be a spy? Well it seems like maybe Agatha Christie had that same feeling right before writing The Big Four. This third Agatha novel featuring Hercule Poirot and his ever faithful sidekick, Arthur Hastings, takes the air of adventure we were introduced to in The Secret Adversary to a WHOLE NEW LEVEL. I mean, look at the different cover art this book has had over the years - they are very Bond-esque.

   

(images found here, here, and here)

The Big Four begins with a sort of Gift of the Magi situation with fairly-newly-married Hastings making the long journey back to England from The Argentine (where apparently he has turned cattle farmer since the end of The Murder on the Links). He is super stoked to surprise his bestie, and shows up at Poirot's door only to see a pile of suitcases because OF COURSE Poirot was already on his way to South America to visit Hastings AT THE SAME TIME. Hastings is like okay great to let's just hang in England because I'm already here, but Poirot is like nope, sorry I just got offered an enormous amount of money by an American bajillionaire to go and investigate some "hocus pocus" in Rio so how about you drop me off at the station. However, as they are literally walking out the door for the train station, a man staggers into Poirot's apartment, scribbles the number 4 all over some paper, and then promptly DIES. (Hastings suggests perhaps he has "brain fever" - Poirot says uh no, you are not a doctor, Hastings.)

Thus begins a truly epic 198 pages of twists and turns as Poirot and Hastings literally put themselves in harm's way to get to the bottom of an international crime ring known as the Big Four. This book reads almost like a collection of mini cases with Poirot and Hastings investigating basically half a dozen murders, all seemingly unconnected...until Poirot finds that one little clue that links the death to the mysterious Big Four. 

Winners:

Stunts: In The Big Four, Poirot and Hastings jump out of a moving train, get into fist fights with thugs, are kidnapped NUMEROUS times, and escape from a country home by climbing down ivy from an upstairs window! 

Hastings: While still self-admittedly several steps behind Poirot for most of the book, Hastings does have a few shining moments, even receiving some kudos from Poirot himself: "How marvelous is my friend Hastings! He knows everything -- but everything! How do they say -- Inquire Within Upon Everything. That is my friend Hastings."

Losers:

English Coffee: Apparently, it is not to Poirot's liking. "Only in England is the coffee so atrocious. On the continent they understand how important it is for the digestion that it should be properly made."

#hastingsinlove: Poor Hastings. Even happily married, he can't help himself wistfully remarking how pretty girls are (sometimes based solely on their name), particularly if their hair is a "delicate shade of auburn." Poirot shamelessly calls him out: "Always looking for romance! You are incorrigible!"

The YOA Treatment:

Poirot makes a thoughtful observation about his friend Hastings in this book: "Your narrative style is masterly. I say to myself, it is a book that talks, not my friend Hastings." Hastings is our window into Poirot's world, giving the reader the perfect person to connect with, for not all of us possess the little grey cells of the Hercule Poirot! 

Without Hastings, Poirot's remarkable genius might feel too unrealistic, too uncanny to make much sense. But Hastings offers the foil that both reveals Poirot's brilliance and ensures that the reader doesn't feel alone in being a step or two behind the best. 

Agatha is obviously not the only mystery writer to employ the not-as-clever-but-good-at-writing-things-down friend as a narrator. Another obvious example is Dr. John Watson's narration of the Sherlock Holmes cases. Like Hastings, Dr. Watson serves as a conduit for the eccentric Holmes's methods to the reader, giving us the facts, and yet also not afraid to pose questions to the famous sleuth, so that both companion and reader can keep up. In her autobiography, Agatha notes the influence of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle as she created her own characters and story structures, and in Hastings is perhaps the clearest example. Seeing Poirot's cases through Hastings's eyes is a delight, not only because of the often hilarious exchanges between these two unlikely friends, but also because Hastings's reactions as events unfold are our reactions, particularly in The Big Four, where Poirot is often keeping Hastings in the dark of his clever plans to outwit the villains. 

-A.

Less Golf Than You'd Think: The Murder on the Links | 1923

"The trained observer, the expert, without doubt he is useful! But the others, the Hercules Poirots, they are above the experts! To them the experts bring the facts, their business is the method of the crime, its logical deduction, the proper sequence and order of the facts; above all, the true psychology of the case." - The Murder on the Links, p. 14

The Sum of it All:

This, Agatha's third published book, begins with Hastings (Poirot's sidekick, you'll remember from Styles) in his natural habitat: falling in love with some random girl he's known for five minutes. Not only does she literally appear out of nowhere, but she claims to be an actress, Hastings criticizes her cosmetics, she tells him her temper has gotten her into trouble in the past, and she refuses to tell him her real name and tells him to call her Cinderella. So I mean the falling in love was a foregone conclusion in Hastings' case. (They meet again later and Hastings and Poirot have the following exchange: "Journeys end in lovers' meetings is not that the saying?" "Don't be an ass, Poirot." "Yesterday it was Mademoiselle Daubreuil, today it is Mademoiselle--Cinderella! Decidedly you have the heart of a Turk, Hastings! You should establish a harem!" #mocking #hastingsinlove)

Anyhow, he meets her on his way to London from France, and when he gets there, his now roommate Papa Poirot is bemoaning his toast ("'This piece of toast, you remark him not? Is it square? No. Is it a triangle? Again no. Is it even round? No. Is it of any shape remotely pleasing to the eye? What symmetry have we here? None.' 'It's cut from a cottage loaf,' I explained soothingly") as well as the boring nature of his recent detective cases ("In verity I am reduced to recovering lost lap-dogs for fashionable ladies!"). This problem is soon alleviated by the receipt of a urgent letter from an M. Renauld in France stating that he fears he is in danger and needs Poirot to come STAT. So they go. 

ALAS they are too late and when they get there they find that M. Renauld is already MURDERED via a knife in the back, wearing his underclothes and a coat that's too long for him, laying in a pre-dug grave in the midst of a golf course in development next to his Villa. But why is he in his underclothes and why is the door to his house standing open, his wife inside all bound and gagged, telling a wild story about two Chileans with beards? Unfortunately, the French police are already on it, and with them, their star detective, Giraud, who quickly becomes Poirot's nemesis due to his more observational crime solving methods: "Here we have a true clue--a psychological clue. You may know all about cigarettes and match ends, M. Giraud, but I, Hercule Poirot, know the mind of man!"

We also find the recurring theme of the presence of a SURPRISE second will, which switches all the money to Renauld's wife, leaving a son out in the cold. Speaking of the son, he turns up claiming to have been in a totally different city waiting on a ship to South America upon telegramed orders from his Pa, returning when his ship was cancelled...a likely story? He and his father had a heated blow-up the day of his dad's death, all about a beautiful young lady down the lane about whom his dad said NO DICE re: marriage. Poirot meets the young lady and her mother who reminds Poirot of a crime popular in the news long ago. When a second body turns up, things get even more interesting. 

This is the part where I stop explaining the plot because part of the goal here is for you guys, our small but faithful (one hopes) cadre of readers to be inspired by our tantalizing leads and pick up a copy of the book for your own enjoyment! Needless to say, this one has more than one significant twist at the end, and you'll think you have it figured out more than once before it's all over (literally, one of my margin notes is "Whaaaaaat!").

Simon Baker owes it all to Agatha, probably.

The YOA Treatment: 

With this second Poirot book, Agatha makes a point of establishing the difference between him and the more "conventional" detective, a contrast she casts in the form of Giraud. Giraud is showier than Poirot, crawling about on the ground looking for shoe-prints and distinguishing South American matches. Hastings is disappointed in Poirot for letting this guy seemingly get the jump on him constantly with his quickly drawn conclusions, but Poirot is unruffled. 

"He builds a case, as a beaver builds a dam, with a fatiguing industry. But he will not have looked for the things I am seeking--in all probability he would not have seen their importance if they stared him in the face." 

The police, doctors, and M. Giraud move happily along, taking each evident clue at face value, and drawing rapid conclusions, while we see that Poirot is willing to look deeply at each piece of evidence and examine them from multiple angles. While Poirot is methodical always in his thinking, taking each clue and piece of evidence and considering how it fits with the others, then forming a narrative, we see the other detective using initial evidence to form a narrative, and then ditching anything that doesn't fit. Says Poirot, "Always the facts must be twisted to fit the theory! Did not Giraud find the traces of two persons, a man and a woman, in the shed? And how does that fit in with his reconstruction of the case? I will tell you--it does not fit in, and so we shall hear no more of them!"

This contrasting style of detecting remains present in today's popular detective realm, whether we're looking at the standard (yet great, nobody's tryin' to denegrate the bom-bom) crime procedurals of the Law & Order empire, where clue after clue leads Det. Olivia Benson to the real bad guy, or the clever, intuition based skills of crime solvers like Patrick Jane's Mentalist or Shawn Spencer on Psych. While Agatha clearly chose early on which style she felt was more compelling, the constant contrast of Poirot's "little grey cells" (not to mention Tommy & Tuppence's detecting which is based mainly on what they've read in fiction, or Miss Marple whose intuitive-little-old-lady act surprises folks every time) and the traditional police work of detectives like Giraud or Inspector Japp make every one of these stories more rich.

- E.

Intro to Agatha: The Mysterious Affair at Styles | 1920

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"The company once assembled, Poirot rose from his seat with the air of a popular lecturer, and bowed politely to his audience. 'Messieurs, mesdames...'" -The Mysterious Affair at Styles, p. 160-161.

Welcome to week one of The Year of Agatha! There is no better place to kick off a year of reading through Agatha Christie's complete works than where it all began: The Mysterious Affair at Styles. (FUN FACT: This book was Agatha's first hit, other than a few short stories she had published here and there, and she was so pumped that she named her first house Styles, after this fictional Essex manse.)

The Sum of It:

A cast of thousands (well not literally...):
(But seriously there are a lot of charming auburn haired ladies and manly landed gentry. Plus a troup of Belgian refugees. And farmers. #digress) Styles is the first time we meet Agatha's beloved Belgian: Hercule Poirot. Charming, already notoriously proficient at his job as a detective, "dandified" and astute as they come, we can immediately see why Agatha came back to him again and again, with the reading public in tow. But Poirot is not the only Christie staple we meet in Styles. Captain Arthur Hastings, Poirot's loyal (although prone to being a bit dim and completely lacking self-awareness) companion, begins his long-standing tradition of narration with this case. We also meet Scotland Yard's Chief Inspector James Japp ("Jimmy Japp!" as Poirot calls him) who, despite seeming wholly incompetent at solving crimes, remains with us through the entirety of the Poirot universe (and sometimes moonlights in other books!).

How the "coco" crumbles:
Thirty-year-old Hastings, home in England from the front lines of WWI, spends his month of sick leave with his old pal, John Cavendish, at the Cavendish family estate: Styles. It's all fun and games until John's kind (yet also fairly bossy and with dubious taste in fellas) mother, Emily, dies suddenly in the night. The doctors (yes, two of them show up) cry POISON! so Hastings enlists Poirot (who is a Belgian refugee conveniently refugee-ing in the same village, boy is England small) to catch the murderer. But surely the killer is just her much younger husband (described as basically having the style sense of Rasputin) who stands to inherit everything, right? But could it be that simple? Missing coffee mugs and forced locks and the farmer's wife must all be sorted before Poirot can get to the bottom of who killed poor, rich Mrs. Inglethorp.

And the nominees for best supporting character are...
POISON! Agatha put her wartime pharmacist chemistry skills to great use in this book. You'll never think of bromide in the same way...(assuming you've ever thought of bromide. YOU WILL).

Poirot's Belgian Roommates: They make a very brief appearance (mostly just to tell Hastings that Poirot isn't home), but one has to stop and wonder....did they keep a chores calendar?

Hastings' Love Life: Darling Arthur falls in love with no less than two women in this book. This is not an isolated incidence.

Hefty Cross-Examination: Move over, The Good Wife, there is a new sheriff in town and his name is Sir Ernest Heavyweather, K. C. (aka early 20th century British for attorney).

Scraps of Paper! Please see the actual example below:

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The YOA Treatment:

Styles is the first time we are introduced to Poirot and his uber-methodical process of sleuthing. Agatha doesn't give us too much detail about the Poirot origin story in this case, beyond telling us he a) is a bit on the older side, b) was a big deal in the Belgian police force back in the day, and c) he is a major neat freak. We are also given a delightful first taste of the Poirot Way of Solving Crime. While he does a bit of CSI stuff (collecting fragments of thread, collecting coffee samples for analysis, and picking a lot of stuff up with tiny tweezers), Poirot is most fond of enumerating interesting tidbits in his head to let his "little grey cells" do the hard work. "We will arrange the facts, neatly, each in his proper place," he says to Hastings, while scribbling in a notebook. 

But while Poirot prefers order and method, he isn't too high brow to ignore the good old gut feeling. In Styles Poirot talks about feeling something in your "heart of hearts!" and trusting your instincts. And Poirot isn't the only Agatha detective who relies on intuition when it comes to crime. Check back on Monday (January 11th) for our post on The Secret Adversary, which features a lot of #gutfeeling, and a whole lot of ADVENTURE!

*Extra Bonus Points: This great post about Styles becoming a Penguin paperback on A Penguin a Week blog.

- A