Murder by Death

I (re)read this book for two reasons:  I belong to a group reading Agatha Christie's oeuvre in order of publication, and it fit a Halloween Bingo prompt - 13.  Either one of those reasons would have been a good enough excuse to read this charming little collection of Miss Marple showing everyone up.

13 short stories: the first 6 of which share a common tie of being stories told at the Tuesday Night Club, an impromptu gathering where each person tells the tale of a mystery that went unsolved at the time.  The next 6 stories are tied together in a similar way, as stories all told around the dining table one evening.  The last story is a 'stand-alone' although it relies on the friendship established in the previous stories between Miss Marple and Sir Henry Clithering.

Without exception, each story is excellent.  Some are more excellent than others; in my opinion, The Blue Geranium is the absolute stand-out, though Motive vs Opportunity comes close.  The weakest was probably the last, for me, Death by Drowning.  It's solid, but in comparison, duller than the previous 12 stories.

I have a confession to make about Agatha Christie's books:  I dislike both Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot.  I find that in the longer books Miss Marple tends to natter on a bit too much and plays the "old spinster" and "aww shucks" hands a little too strongly.  Hercule Poirot is just ... an amalgamation of the worst traits of Holmes and Dupin is as close I can come to a description.  I don't find him as comical as most.

However, these short stories offer the perfect dose of Miss Marple: for almost all the stories, her participation is relegated to the end, so the simpering is contained.  I also really tried, while reading these, to re-imagine Miss Marple in my mind by remembering the subjectivity of the descriptor 'old' and the stereotype of 'spinster'.  Yes, Miss Marple has white hair and knits, but I know many a 50-60 year old that has white hair and knits.  I don't recall her age ever being mentioned in the books I've read so far, so perhaps I dislike Miss Marple because of popular portrayals, combined with current attitudes about the adjectives that Christie used 100 years ago, when they covered broader spectrums.

I was partially successful; it was a struggle.  Ingrained conceptions die hard.  Fortunately I have a lot of books ahead of me to use for mental re-programming.  Now if only I could figure out a way to like Poirot...