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Murder in the Hand Monday
Aug. 28th, 2017 05:23 amWhat I've Finished Reading
The reason why One Man Show is marketed as a thriller, surprisingly enough, is that it turns out to be one! Well, sort of. It still has a lot of arch Golden Age mannerisms, but it accumulates a lot of plot involving an art theft ring and some spies, and eventually there are chase scenes. The spies are there more to solve a problem in the art-theft plot than anything else, but they're still spies! This is a two-pronged Crime Adventure, with the primary detective (Inspector Appleby) heading off into one dangerous situation while his wife Judith, intelligent and resourceful but impractically dressed for a night of hiding in cupboards and leaping over ditches, wanders inquisitively into another.
I liked the Stately Home guy whose painting gets stolen. The government has taken charge of his cattle and pigs, and he's had to open the house to paying tourists in order to make ends meet, but unlike some of his murderverse cohort, he's taking the new economic realities in stride with resourcefulness and good humor. It's nice that everyone gets to enjoy his paintings and gardens! His reasonableness is refreshing, and he still gets to talk like Sir Ector and forget the names of things to his heart's content, so nothing worth saving has been lost.
There’s probably a way to solve The ABC Murders by algorithm, though maybe it only feels that way after you know the answer. This one is satisfying because everything comes out all right in the end, but [spoiler! the plot against a harmless nonentity is so calculating and narcissistic that ] this is one of the Christies I actually find a little upsetting underneath the theatrical murder paint.
Poirot misses what in retrospect should have been an obvious clue right off the bat, but I’m not sure whether I think it’s an in-character failing or just there to keep the plot moving for the length of a novel. Both, probably.
What I'm Reading Now
Deadly Nightshade by Elizabeth Daly: An antique book dealer is invited to take a look at a mysterious case of poisoning in Maine, for reasons that aren't entirely clear. Sometimes people ask him what he's doing there and all he can do is shrug. At one point he pretends his cat wanted it. To be an amateur detective is to make one's peace with absurdity.
The cause of death in this book, the titular deadly nightshade, is pretty terrifying: a big, black, sweetish berry that anyone could pop into your morning muesli. It's a real plant! It's really poisonous! You can also use it to induce hallucinations, but according to Wikipedia you probably don't want to:
"The use of belladonna as a recreational drug is reported to bring about predominantly bad trips that the users want never to repeat for as long as they live."
A ringing endorsement!
Two things make Deadly Nightshade a slightly uncomfortable reading experience: 1) the initial victims are all children, and 2) the plot involves a local gypsy community, about whom the rest of the characters are constantly making the most sweeping derogatory remarks, right down to claiming that they have "no mentality at all" and are basically a lot of deer in human costumes. The author doesn't seem to agree, or at least doesn't bother to join in or support these statements in any way. Local prejudice against the gypsies is clearly being used by the real killer as a convenient screen (or possibly a deliberate frame job); the police are aware of this and actively work against it, but continue to be prejudiced.
Murder in Mesopotamia has a delightful non-nonsense narrator in Nurse Leatheran, whom we are told in an introduction has been called upon to describe “these strange events” from a close outsider’s perspective for the benefit of the public. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be the killer! We’re back among Christie’s beloved dig sites, and I think she’s having a good time making Nurse Leatheran stubbornly unmoved by all those grimy antiquities and crowded marketplaces and other non-English foolishness. “I think I'd better make it clear right away that there isn't going to be any local color in this story,” she tells us early on, though she doesn't quite stick to it. Nurse Leatheran has been hired to look after the wife of the lead archaeologist on an American expedition, who seems to be suffering from the nervous delusion that someone wants to kill her. Imagine the surprise of everyone but the reader when somebody actually does!
There’s a little Poirot timeline continuity here: we’re told that the events took place “three years ago,” and later we learn that the famous detective Hercule Poirot is on his way back to London via Syria, meaning this case takes place just before the beginning of Murder on the Orient Express.
What I Plan to Read Next
Cards on the Table is next! This is another one where I remember who did it, but not why or how. I couldn’t be happier at the prospect of being introduced to Ariadne Oliver a second time, even if I don’t understand bridge any more now than I did two years ago.
The reason why One Man Show is marketed as a thriller, surprisingly enough, is that it turns out to be one! Well, sort of. It still has a lot of arch Golden Age mannerisms, but it accumulates a lot of plot involving an art theft ring and some spies, and eventually there are chase scenes. The spies are there more to solve a problem in the art-theft plot than anything else, but they're still spies! This is a two-pronged Crime Adventure, with the primary detective (Inspector Appleby) heading off into one dangerous situation while his wife Judith, intelligent and resourceful but impractically dressed for a night of hiding in cupboards and leaping over ditches, wanders inquisitively into another.
I liked the Stately Home guy whose painting gets stolen. The government has taken charge of his cattle and pigs, and he's had to open the house to paying tourists in order to make ends meet, but unlike some of his murderverse cohort, he's taking the new economic realities in stride with resourcefulness and good humor. It's nice that everyone gets to enjoy his paintings and gardens! His reasonableness is refreshing, and he still gets to talk like Sir Ector and forget the names of things to his heart's content, so nothing worth saving has been lost.
There’s probably a way to solve The ABC Murders by algorithm, though maybe it only feels that way after you know the answer. This one is satisfying because everything comes out all right in the end, but [spoiler! the plot against a harmless nonentity is so calculating and narcissistic that ] this is one of the Christies I actually find a little upsetting underneath the theatrical murder paint.
Poirot misses what in retrospect should have been an obvious clue right off the bat, but I’m not sure whether I think it’s an in-character failing or just there to keep the plot moving for the length of a novel. Both, probably.
What I'm Reading Now
Deadly Nightshade by Elizabeth Daly: An antique book dealer is invited to take a look at a mysterious case of poisoning in Maine, for reasons that aren't entirely clear. Sometimes people ask him what he's doing there and all he can do is shrug. At one point he pretends his cat wanted it. To be an amateur detective is to make one's peace with absurdity.
The cause of death in this book, the titular deadly nightshade, is pretty terrifying: a big, black, sweetish berry that anyone could pop into your morning muesli. It's a real plant! It's really poisonous! You can also use it to induce hallucinations, but according to Wikipedia you probably don't want to:
"The use of belladonna as a recreational drug is reported to bring about predominantly bad trips that the users want never to repeat for as long as they live."
A ringing endorsement!
Two things make Deadly Nightshade a slightly uncomfortable reading experience: 1) the initial victims are all children, and 2) the plot involves a local gypsy community, about whom the rest of the characters are constantly making the most sweeping derogatory remarks, right down to claiming that they have "no mentality at all" and are basically a lot of deer in human costumes. The author doesn't seem to agree, or at least doesn't bother to join in or support these statements in any way. Local prejudice against the gypsies is clearly being used by the real killer as a convenient screen (or possibly a deliberate frame job); the police are aware of this and actively work against it, but continue to be prejudiced.
Murder in Mesopotamia has a delightful non-nonsense narrator in Nurse Leatheran, whom we are told in an introduction has been called upon to describe “these strange events” from a close outsider’s perspective for the benefit of the public. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be the killer! We’re back among Christie’s beloved dig sites, and I think she’s having a good time making Nurse Leatheran stubbornly unmoved by all those grimy antiquities and crowded marketplaces and other non-English foolishness. “I think I'd better make it clear right away that there isn't going to be any local color in this story,” she tells us early on, though she doesn't quite stick to it. Nurse Leatheran has been hired to look after the wife of the lead archaeologist on an American expedition, who seems to be suffering from the nervous delusion that someone wants to kill her. Imagine the surprise of everyone but the reader when somebody actually does!
There’s a little Poirot timeline continuity here: we’re told that the events took place “three years ago,” and later we learn that the famous detective Hercule Poirot is on his way back to London via Syria, meaning this case takes place just before the beginning of Murder on the Orient Express.
What I Plan to Read Next
Cards on the Table is next! This is another one where I remember who did it, but not why or how. I couldn’t be happier at the prospect of being introduced to Ariadne Oliver a second time, even if I don’t understand bridge any more now than I did two years ago.
