So what has Agatha Christie done for us?

Agatha Christie is arguably one of the most well-loved authors of all time. And her books are still being published in new formats, turned into plays and TV series and mini-series, and of course films on the big screen, a hundred years after she first began her writing career. Her books regularly top the online bestseller lists and there have been spin-offs, recreations and fan fiction. You can even buy her ‘secret notebooks’, biographies and merchandise.

Between 1920 and 1973-ish she wrote 66 detective novels under her (first) married name, Agatha Christie, 6 non-detective novels as Mary Westmacott, and 14 short story collections. In addition a number of her works have been adapted for the stage, or were written as plays that have now been novelised.

But far from setting out to be a great author, she only started writing at all due to a bet with her sister, and a certain amount of boredom. Yet she has created some of the best and worst (sorry, but Parker Pyne and Mr Quin????) detectives in the genre, and some of the most devious and controversial plots to ever trick, misdirect and enthrall the reading public. If we sometimes today find her plots predictable or jaded, that is because we can easily forget that she and a handful of other trailblazers have, through their work, made us as readers more sophisticated and at the same time, have aroused expectations to fit the genre. If we can place the books in their original era, then they become even more fresh, more unusual and very, very clever.

So if you’ve been living on the moon, and haven’t read anything by Christie before, or if you’ve only lately come to detective fiction via some other nefarious genre, what are the five books you should read by Agatha Christie?

Well obviously you’ve got to read the first Poirot book, not that sequence is an issue with Christie as it is with many authors. But it’s always interesting to a) read an author’s first book, and b) read the first book to feature a well-known detective. So you absolutely must begin with The Mysterious Affair At Styles, published in 1920 and featuring Hercule Poirot. I would say he is the world’s foremost fictional detective (though fans of Sherlock Holmes would no doubt disagree). This is a phenomenal debut, and an intriguing mystery.

Christie famously disliked Poirot, and her dislike is clear in the rather comical, uncharitable description of him as he makes his first appearance in chapter two, meeting by accident the narrator of the story, his famous side-kick Hastings. Right from the outset, we note that Hastings always treats Poirot with a mixture of pity and affection. We are told: Poirot was an extraordinary-looking little man. He was hardly more than five feet four inches, but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. We are also told of his love of neatness bordering on obsession and, again as always, Hastings is at pains to point out that Poirot’s glories are behind him and he is past his prime. In fact, he’s past his prime for the next, what, thirty, forty years?

So Poirot is not in any shape or form the figure of a hero – he’s short, stout, he limps, he’s fussy and overly particular, and he’s older in years than a classic swash-buckling, overcoming-all-obstacles big-screen hero of that era or even our own. And he has personality flaws in the form of vanity and self-importance, and often, a deep lack of self-belief that I think most of us could identify with today.

But his strengths – oh they are good – he is an acute observer of humanity, he notices EVERYTHING, he understands human psychology, and his success lies in his deep thought processes and his use of logic to work out the details of a crime, that and a reliance on the everyday bigotry that overlooks the intelligence or usefulness of a foreigner on the part of many he comes into contact with.

So that’s Styles.

You also HAVE to read two other classic Poirot’s: Death on the Nile and Murder on the Orient Express. These have become such genre classics almost independent of their creator, and the TV series and various film versions have definitely assisted with that. These books have masterful plots featuring an ensemble cast, and represent neat variations on the country house theme by being a ship and a train. The exotic locations just add to the pleasure.

Miss Marple is one of Christie’s other detectives, and is almost as well known and beloved as Poirot. She is a single old lady who knits and gossips. She solves mysteries by the simple expedient of listening, asking questions and again, like Poirot, knowing a great deal about human behaviour. This is largely the result of her life experience, and the fact that she lives in a small community where everyone knows everyone. Like Poirot, she is often overlooked as a threat to the plans of baddies and evildoers. The best Marple book to start with, in my opinion, is again the book that introduces us to the character, a volume of short stories first published in 1933, The Thirteen Problems (or in the US this is called The Tuesday Club Murders). In this book, each of a group of friends tells of an unsolved murder they know about, and various solutions are put forward by the rest of the group, until in the end, Miss Marple, between counting stitches or casting on a new ball of wool, puts forward the truth, which is then acted upon and checked by someone who is a high-up legal chap. By the end of the book, the others now turn immediately to Miss Marple, knowing she will tell them the only true solution.

Two more famous Marple books, which are in a way companion pieces, are A Caribbean Mystery and Nemesis and are also excellent, showing her personality in her strength of purpose and determination to see justice done.

Okay, I know I said five books, and there they are (not really five but it’s not easy to choose between some of them…). And I can’t resist adding a bonus one: the extraordinary Death Comes As The End. It was published in 1945, and is a traditional-style murder mystery, but it is set in ancient Egypt, and the background was gleaned by Christie from her archaeological exploits with husband number two, Sir Max Mallowan. It’s a great story, full of fascinating detail, and it inspired me as a teenager to learn more about history of all eras.

And of course, you’ve got to read The Murder at the Vicarage, Lord Edgware Dies, my personal favourite, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, and my ‘other’ personal favourite, Evil Under the Sun.

I hope that, having read all the above books, you might feel an impulse to go back and read the rest of her works. They are well worth the effort, and I am sure you will agree, not only are they entertaining and enjoyable, you will also feel that you have come to know the woman behind not just these works but the modern cosy mystery genre as a whole. Without Agatha Christie, I believe there would be no Midsomer Murders, no Vera, Shetland, no Line of Duty,  or Inspector Morse.

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Extras… the minor characters every mystery story needs

Extras complaining to the author about not having a name – again.

Last week was all about the main characters – the detective, the villain, the side-kick and of course the victim(s).

This week, I’m interested in thinking about the minor characters – or extras – in my head I see these as a kind of walk-on part, much like those in any TV show or movie. They don’t always have lines. Sometimes they don’t even have names. They might be described as ‘an elderly dog-walker’ or ‘the woman behind the shop counter’. They crop up everywhere the story goes – in shops, houses, on village greens, in museums, and at dinner parties.

But why are they there?

Extras fulfill a number of criteria and needs for the author and the reader.

  • they can deflect attention away from the culprit or villain.
  • they can provide the reader with useful clues or snippets of information.
  • equally, they can provide us with (less useful, sometimes) red herrings and wrong-turns.
  • they enrich the story so it doesn’t consist of just your four main characters, unless that’s the whole point of the story.
  • they can give us a sneak-peek of something that might happen in a later book if this is a series.
  • they act as a kind of commentator or dramatic chorus to comment on the action or criticise or laud the ‘hero’.

But life as an Extra can be tough and is often unpredictable.

Police or other people in authority (completely unaware all too often that they themselves are Extras, can bully them or wrongfully arrest an Extra and accuse them of terrible things they haven’t done.

You need a huge range of skills as you may be called upon to perform almost any task from forensic assistant to chambermaid.

As an Extra, you might be completely overlooked by the reader who doesn’t even notice you, let alone what a magnificent job you do pretending to be an elderly dog-walker when you’re really a young woman in her twenties on her way to college and you don’t even like dogs.

Alice was at the party with two friends. Who were they? No one knows.

And they never remember your name, which is why you have to have a description attached: Miss Jones, the games mistress at school where victim used to teach. You might even find yourself very near the bottom of a long list of characters, a list designed to help readers remember all the people in the book they’ve met but don’t remember.

No one asks your opinion. ‘Tell us, Poirot,’ they cry, at the end of the book. ‘Who did this dastardly deed? and why?’ I mean, all the Extras probably know this information too, don’t they. But no one ever asks them. They just come in with the tea tray and leave without anyone noticing.

Likewise, no one ever asks an Extra if they’re okay and how they feel about being shut up in a big country house with loads of stairs, and a murderer roaming about bumping people off willy-nilly.

And as if all this is not enough, when the author gets bored, you might even end up as the next victim, just to ‘spice things up a bit’.

How is that fair? It’s not just a policeman’s life that’s terrible hard. Try being an Extra for one book, let alone a whole series. I’m only surprised they don’t have a union.

‘I hate being in crowd scenes,’ said the person in the red outfit. ‘So do I!’ said another person in yellow. ‘It’s so anonymous.’

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The Big Four: the four main characters in a murder mystery

I love murder mysteries. I doubt this comes as any kind of a surprise to most people reading this blog. Characters in a murder mystery fall into one of two categories: they are either part of the Big Four, or they are Extras. This week I want to quickly chat about the Big Four.

Who are the Big Four?

The Big Four are the main characters without whom we would have no murder mystery. They are: The Victim(s), The Villain(s), The Side-kick(s) and The Detective(s).

And yes, they often come as a pair or even more, not just as a lone individual. Detectives, for example, often come as a pair – one an amateur and one a professional. Villains too, can sometimes deliberately confuse the reader by sharing the limelight with another villain, and share the crimes too.

And who doesn’t love a high body-count? Why stop at one Dastardly Deed when you can have two, or three, or…

Let me introduce you…

The Victim(s)

Victims, as avid mystery lovers know, are always bumped off for a reason. And obviously it is The Detective(s)’s(s’)(??) job to discover why and bring the perpetrator to justice.

The richer, the more arrogant, cruel, cold, grasping, greedy and crafty our victim is/was, the better we like it, don’t we? We can then take a vicarious pleasure in their demise as we would never, ever do such a thing ourselves in real life. And the worse they are, the nastier and more creative their all-too-timely death should be. BUT.

They can’t be so bad that we don’t care if their killer evades detection.

In my view, ideally there should be two or three of these demises per mystery because, if I’m honest, I’m always a bit disappointed if there’s ‘only’ one.

The Victim is there for one reason only–to make us, the reader feel clever:  to provide something for The Detective to detect, of course.

The Villain

Whenever I hear the word ‘villain’ I always think of a man in a swirling black cape and top hat, twirling his moustaches menacingly (or smugly, either will do)and saying ‘Mwah haha’.

Sadly, the days of Dick Dastardly have gone, (drat, drat and double drat) and nowadays The Villain can look like anyone:

A little old lady.

A priest.

A stalwart Major-type.

A handsome young man on his honeymoon. (I’m looking at you, Death on the Nile.)

A nurse. (Sad Cypress)

Even a child. (Crooked House)

The Villain is often charming, often invokes our sympathy due to baggage and issues, and can even make us think, ‘Aww well, she/he’s had a tough childhood, maybe we should kindly overlook those four grisly murders and let her/him have a new chance at life.’

We must be on our guard at all times throughout the book until the moment this villain is unmasked.

The Side-kick

The Sidekick has a demanding role. They are there as a kind of placeholder/proxy for the reader.

They must be clingy to the point of irritating, sticking by The Detective’s side when they really should go away and leave him/her alone to think things through. But no, they stick around at all times, asking stupid, inane and tedious questions, so that we don’t have to. We sit at home in our comfiest armchair and loudly exclaim, ‘Rookie mistake, I already knew that…’ but really we’re thinking, ‘Ooh I wasn’t sure, but now that you mention it…’

The side-kick – desperately needed to help us survive the journey

So they are there to help The Detective and the reader to find the evidence and the clues and to arrive at the truth of the mystery.

In fact they don’t create a dialogue, but they are the dialogue – through The Side-kick, the reader can talk to The Detective and The Detective can talk to us.

And finally:

The Detective*

The Detective can be anyone.

Rather like The Villain, The Detective can be a law-and-order professional, or someone from an associated profession (forensics, psychology…), or an amateur with a gift, a nurse, a priest (The Complete Father Brown stories) a stalwart major-type, a nurse, a handsome young man on his honeymoon or even a child (The Sweetness At The Bottom Of The Pie).

The Detective has one job and one job only: to find out whodunit and bring them to justice.

It’s essential that her or his main characteristics include:

Passionate desire for justice, even at risk to self, it goes without saying, I hope.

Incredibly close attention to detail: ‘Sacre bleu, this dust is 3.14159 milimetres in ze thickness, therefore the killer was the maid and the crime was committed on Tuesday afternoon.’* The whole case may depend on just this kind of minuteness.

‘Mesdames et messieurs, allow me to reveal at last, the identity of the criminal’.

Very keen observation skills: ‘Zut alors, the footprints in the mud are of a depth of 3.14159 milimetres, therefore we must find a person of 6 feet 1 inch who weighs 189lbs.’

From the two above attributes, we can also see that they must be good at mathematics too. 

Lastly, the Detective must have a huge ego: We readers love to have all the suspects in a room at the end of the story, and to be taken step by step through the crime to learn the identity of The Villain, and to have the satisfaction of them being led away in handcuffs. Therefore it is essential that our Detective loves to show off just a little and to deliver a lecture on how clever he/she is and how many different things we missed.

So next time you are reading a mystery, keep a handy notebook and pen by your side, so you can check for all these points!

*must supply own white hat

*sorry btw, for me all fictional detectives are Hercule Poirot, even when they’re not

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