Reviewed by nitzan_schwarz on
So, obviously, there is a reason Christie is considered a mother effing QUEEN of mystery.
She manages to make everyone a possible suspect to her reader, so subsequently... no one is. I have suspected--out loud and in my mind--so many people during the course of this novel that by the end of it, I was both shocked and vindicated by the outcome.
If you're looking for a great mystery with a quirky detective at the helm, an interesting cast of supporting characters and fun narration, definitely pick this one up!
Speaking of which... the narration kind of bothered me. Don't get me wrong, it's great. Hastings is a fun character to be experiencing, as he is prideful, condescending, and yet well-meaning and friendly. He thinks he's doing and thinking the right things, even when he's not quite there.
He would have been a perfect narrator, if not for one tiny detail...
By his own admission, on the very first page of the novel, Hastings is writing this account on request of Poirot and the family. That means these people, who are spoken about very candidly in his account, will read this novel.
That made the whole thing rather odd.
Think about it. Let's say you go on a trip with your friends, and they ask you to write about your adventures. Would you admit to thinking those same friends are stupid or lack conversational skills? Would you share how you fancied their wives and offered marriage to their charges? Would you speak of how much better your intelligence, or wit, or cleverness is compared to theirs? Or will you soften all those things? Erase others. All because you know they will read this. This is not a story that will be locked in a drawer, but published or given to these very people.
And what about yourself? Would you write yourself to be the foolish way you were, with your condescending judgment? Would you have no fear of people seeing your flaws and therefore smooth them over; make yourself appear less dense, a little less dumb and prone to jumping to conclusions (since, by the time you are writing this, you already know how things have ended).
It's unrealistic. Hastings would not have needed to change what had happened but simply what he thought as it was happening in order to both make himself look better (because he comes across as extremely foolish, if well-meaning, throughout the story) AND keep his relationships stable (if I was one of his friends I would have thrown a pitcher in his face for some of the things he had written).
It's such a silly thing to be hung up on, and if not for that one small sentence about why he's writing all of this it would have been nothing. I have never thought before about why someone is narrating a story or who is meant to read it in his or her world, since a narration is usually just that; a narration. A means to tell the story, basically. But with one short line, those lines were blurred, and I could not be content to just accept it as it is.
I could not just accept his candid, honest account. Instead, I was confused by why he was giving it like that. Am I the only one in this? Am I crazy??
And then, I felt like the ending fell a little short. I loved the big reveal; the wham bam and shock of it. But I was also left with far too many questions for it to be any form of satisfying?
As Poirot mentions himself; there has to be motive for murder. Why did Evie and Alfred kill her? How long did they plan it? Was Evie such a great actress, to be able to easily cry over the death she has planned herself or was a part of her genuinely sad after so many years with the woman? Why did no one question her hatred of her cousin throughout the book? Like, I literally forgot they were cousins because it was a throwaway comment at the very beginning and then it wasn't touched upon again. And this is something Christie could have used, like letting Evie say something like "I know he killed her; He's my cousin" to both bolster Evie's claims and give the reader a clue.
And then... why? Why did Evie hate her mistress? Why did she wait ten years to call her cousin and do this?
It's just... so many missing pieces with no way to piece them together!
Still, an undeniably strong start to what would become Christie's incredible career, and I am looking forward to both reading more from her and hoping some of the more open-ended and disjointed side plots from this one (ahemahemthespyahemahem) will be revisited in the future!
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Original Unfiltered Thoughts
So, clearly, there is a reason Christie is hailed as a queen of mystery.
The mystery in this book is phenomenal - she manages to make everyone a suspect to the reader, and consequently... no one is. I have suspected (out loud and in my mind) so many people during the course of the novel, that by the end of it, I was both shocked and vindicated by the outcome.
Still, there were some things that really nagged at me.
The first, is Hastings narration. It would have been perfect if not for one little detail... by his own admission on the very first page of the novel, Hastings is writing this account on the request of Poirot and the family. Which means these people will read this novel. This makes his candid testimony feel extremely odd.
Think about it. If you were tasked with writing an account of a trip you had with friends, you would not admit to thinking those friends to have become stupid with age or to lack conversational skills, or question their intelligence. You would not describe yourself fancying their wives or offering marriages to their prodigies. You would soften all those things because you would know they would read it. More ever, you would... make yourself look better. So many times during this investigation Hastings appears rather dense, a little dumb, prone to jumping to conclusions. He says and thinks things that he knows, from his point of writing the novel, to be wrong or mistaken. And yet... he keeps all of these things in. As if he has no fear of how his friends will accept his (slightly) condescending judgment of them. As if he has no fear of anyone pointing out his flaws. That, in itself, is not realistic to me. It's contrary to human nature. And it would not have bothered me if it hadn't been to the first page because otherwise, I would've eaten up his candid, honest narration. As it was, every time he thoughts something mean or assumed Poirot to be wrong (from his standing point of AFTER the matter was resolved), I was confused.
And then, while I really loved the big reveal at the end, I was left with too many questions for it to be satisfying. As Poirot himself says, there has to be a motive for the murder. Why did Evie and Alfred kill her? How long did they plan it? Why did Evie cry if, clearly, she has planned this murder months in advance? Was she just... a really good actress? And then, why did no one real question her hatred of him throughout the book? I admit to having completely forgotten they were cousins because there was barely any mention of it. I would expect Christie to use this in some manner, like have Evie say something like "He's my cousin, I KNOW him. He killed her." or something like this which would add certainty to her true-false claims and thicken her fake case, since she was playing a woman who hated him and believed he killed her mistress. Which, he did. And she did.
WHY DID EVIE HATE HER?? I am so confused. 10 years in her service to have her married to her cousin and kill her off? Something is missing!!
Anyways, this was a really strong start to my Christie career lol. I'm hoping some of the open ended plots, like the spy one, are revisited later in the series so to give reason to them being there...
Proper review to come
Reading updates
- Started reading
- 2 February, 2018: Finished reading
- 2 February, 2018: Reviewed