Murders in Volume 2 by Elizabeth Daly

I read somewhere recently that American mystery writer Elizabeth Daly was one of Agatha Christie's favorites. Ms. Daly published sixteen books starring amateur sleuth Henry Gamadge between 1940 and 1951.

What makes Henry Gamadge such an attractive character is that he is an expert in rare books and manuscripts. He lives in a multi-storied house in New York City, has a cook and a butler, and is helped in his investigations by his shy assistant. Gamadge is in his mid-30s and has Old World sensibilities. I liked him.

Murders in Volume 2 was my introduction to him. Because I have never been good at reading between the lines, I must admit I had a little trouble following some of the dialogue - which may have been due to birthday cake overdose - but by the end I felt that it was a good solid story. The plot has to do with a family inheritance, a missing volume of Lord Byron's poetry, spiritualists, theater folk, an impostor, and murder. 

Of course, murder.

Because I am a sucker for descriptions of desks and workspaces, this passage caught my eye:

This seemed to be Miss Vauregard's workroom. A small, curly desk which Gamadge thought must be the first and only one she had ever had was littered with bills, address books, laundry lists and canceled checks. There was a little ancient typewriter on a table in front of a window, with telephone directories piled on the floor beside it. 

And these lines, describing a friend of Gamadge's, made me laugh out loud:

The young man seemed more disheveled than he actually was. He was a type whose lumbering bigness requires continual valeting.

This was the third book in the series. I like to read a series in order to watch the characters develop, but this was the first one that was available in my library's ebook collection. Based on this example, I think there will be more Henry Gamadge mysteries in my future.

Our Winter Shelf

Just in time for the Winter Solstice on December 21, here are the books you suggested for Our Winter Shelf.

Many of you chimed in with The Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder, especially The Long Winter, and Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Both perfect choices.

Here are more:

Joyce F:
An entire shelf of cozy mystery suggestions - M.C. Beaton (Agatha Raisin, Hamish MacBeth), Mary Daheim (Alpine series), Jeanne M. Dams (Dorothy Martin or Hilda Johannson books), Diane Mott (Goldy Bear caterer), and Jo Dereske (Miss Zukas).

Lark:
Winter Solstice or any other by Rosamund Pilcher.
Nine Coaches Waiting and Thornyhold by Mary Stewart.
Jane Austen - take your pick.

Penny:
The Agatha Raisin books - here's one appropriate title, Kissing Christmas Goodbye.

Agatha Christie  - I found these two titles that fit our theme - Hercule Poirot's Christmas and The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding (short story mysteries).

84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff.

From the irrepressible Tullik:

The Frozen Thames by Helen Humphreys (I wrote about this splendid book here).

Winter: Five Windows on the Season by Adam Gopnik - a series of lectures given on the impact of winter on art, culture, polar exploration, etc.

The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann - Tullik suggests that if nothing else, read the chapter 'Snow'.

Orlando by Virginia Woolf for the frozen Thames chapter.

The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens for its chapter 'Christmas at Dingley Dell'.

Christmas Day - tongue in cheek poem by Irish poet Paul Durcan.

The Ice Palace - a short novel by Tarjei Vesass who was Norwegian and should know something about winter. I found an Amazon Kindle edition for 99 cents.

My thought for the Winter Shelf was for it to hold books I already owned and wanted to reread. That way, I wouldn't have to leave my house and brave the snow and ice and cold to get to the library or bookstore.

So here are my choices, many of which I have written about before on Belle, Book, and Candle and I have included links to those posts.

I had Little Women in mind when I started thinking about this list and have an edition (see the photo at the top of the post) that is inscribed in my grandmother's handwriting to my mother - Christmas 1932.

The Pink Motel by Carol Ryrie Brink - just in case I want to spend a little time in the Florida sun (here).

A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas - my parents gave me this little book with woodcut illustrations and I reread it every year.

Merry Hall by Beverley Nichols - I'll save this one for the approach of spring to get me in the mood to think about the garden.

Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Hoeg - I read this suspense novel a long time ago and remember that Smilla, a Greenlander now living in Copenhagen, surely knows her way around snow and ice.

Essays by E.B. White - almost anything written by him brings me comfort.

Endangered Pleasures by Barbara Holland - its subtitle says it all - In Defense of Naps, Bacon, Martinis, Profanity, and Other Indulgences (here).

And finally,

Simple Pleasures: Little Things That Make Life Worth Living - a collection of essays by various British writers published by The National Trust (here).

So there you have it. Plump up the pillows in your reading chair, gather a warm, soft throw and your favorite cup of tea, and settle in for a long winter's read. Enjoy!

Crooked House by Agatha Christie and a birthday toast

Today, September 15, is Agatha Christie's birthday. I won't give her age as it wouldn't be polite, but let's just say she would be pretty old if still alive. 

I have written before about my longtime enjoyment of Dame Agatha's fascinating mysteries starring Hercule Poirot (my favorite) and Miss Jane Marple (her favorite). I also wrote about researching her passion for archaeological splendors for a paper I presented to a group four years ago (here and here).

I recently read Crooked House for the first time and was struck anew by how pleasant it is to be in her world of stately homes, family secrets, afternoon teas, formal gardens, nannies, and tutors.  

I came to Crooked House through a column in The Guardian called Novel Recipes. It takes a look at certain foods mentioned in various works — say, the macaroons in The Enchanted April, or potted beef from The Wind in the Willows — and creates the recipes. For Crooked House, it was the ice cream sodas mentioned near the end of the book. 

This tale doesn't feature either of her famous detectives. Instead we have Charles and his fiancée Sophia trying to solve the murder of Sophia's grandfather Aristide Leonides. Sophia has put the marriage on hold until the murderer is unmasked. 

There are plenty of suspects. All of Aristide's family rub up against each other in the large house — two sons, two daughters-in-law, Sophia and two other grandchildren, a former mother-in-law, a nanny, a tutor, and the young new widow.

Fortunately, Charles's father is assistant commissioner of Scotland Yard so he is privy to the goings on both in the house and in the investigation. Ms. Christie writes in the prologue that Crooked House is one of her favorites. I can see why: the denouément is quite surprising and dark.

But back to the ice cream sodas — one of my favorite childhood treats. When I would spend the night with my grandparents, I would beg for one as an after-dinner indulgence. My grandmother kept those little glass bottles of Coca-Cola chilled in the refrigerator which combined with vanilla ice cream made for a cold, fizzy, foamy delight. 

So, in honor of Dame Agatha's birthday, I treated myself to an ice cream soda today. A very simple one from McDonald's — I ordered a vanilla ice cream and a small Coke. Combine, et voilà. 

I think she would approve. Happy Birthday!

Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz

With Magpie Murders you get two mysteries for the price of one. 

The first mystery is Magpie Murders itself, the final book in a successful series written by Alan Conway. The deaths in that story take place in the village of Saxby-on-Avon in 1955. The second mystery is the current day murder? accident? suicide? investigated by Susan Ryeland, Conway's editor. 

When Ms. Ryeland reads the as yet unpublished manuscript of Conway's book featuring his popular detective Atticus Lünd, she discovers the final chapters are missing. Alas! Who then, she speculates, is the murderer?

Before that question can be answered, a real dead body turns up and Ms. Ryeland is lured by her own curiosity and love of murder mysteries to investigate that death. There are clues to be found everywhere from the quintessential British village where the current day death took place to the fictional characters in Magpie Murders itself.

This was a fascinating read with many compelling characters - two books' worth - and references to Agatha Christie and other Golden Age mysteries, along with a healthy dose of word puzzles.  
I had not read anything about the book, so it all was a surprise and I hope I haven't spoiled too much for you if you decide to read it. It's a good old-fashioned puzzler with plenty of twists and turns. At 500 pages, it's a terrific book to get lost in.

I was amazed that Mr. Horowitz, who has had a hand in writing the television mysteries Foyle's War and Midsomer Murders, could keep track of all the people, places, and plot points. I kept picturing him in his office with walls covered in pink and yellow Post-it notes scribbled with character names and time lines. However he did it, it worked.

Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith

I don't read much fiction but when I see that an author I am curious about has written a collection of essays, I like to give them a try. So I picked up Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays by Zadie Smith. She is a prize-winning writer of quite a few short stories, five novels, and a smattering of non-fiction pieces. 

I have not read any of her work, but I have seen the film adaption of her novel White Teeth. Although, now, I am not quite sure how I came to watch it. 

Ms. Smith writes in the forward to this book of essays, all of which appear to be quite long, that it is compiled of pieces written at particular times for different editors. So we have thoughts on Katherine Hepburn (an idol of Ms. Smith's), a look at George Eliot and Middlemarch, a recollection of Smith family Christmases, and her diary of a brief trip to Liberia. One called That Crafty Feeling contains her guidelines on the writing craft. (I might start with that one...)

The essays are broken into sections of Reading, Being, Seeing, Feeling, and Remembering. I suppose just to give the disparate pieces some sort of structure at least.

I gleaned the above just by flipping through the book's pages and reading bits here and there. I got the book yesterday and haven't read even one of the pieces, so I hope I have a lot to look forward to.

If you have any thoughts on Ms. Smith and her work, I would be happy to hear them. 

*************

In other news:
I don't usually provide links to online stories but there were two this week that I thought might interest you.

One concerns a daring $2.5 million rare book heist near Heathrow Airport that took place in January (but I am just now discovering it) and what impact it might have. The disturbing speculation is that the antiquarian books will be cut up for their maps, illustrations, and engravings as the books themselves would be difficult for the thieves to sell. Horrors!

Here: Book Heist

The other is a fascinating piece by Icelandic author Ragan Jonasson on translating Agatha Christie. Over the years he has translated 14 of her mysteries and become a mystery writer himself in the process. I really must look up the two-word clue mentioned in Lord Edgeware Dies. Mr. Jonasson states in the article that it took him ten years to settle on a suitable translation of it. 

Here: Agatha Christie

Monday Afternoon Club: Come, Tell Me How You Live

My presentation yesterday for the Monday Afternoon Club on Victorian archaeologists went very well. I profiled four 'ladies in the field': Amelia Edwards, Zelia Nuttall, Jane Dieulafoy, and Agatha Christie. 

There is something to be said for researching, writing, and then presenting a paper to a group of like-minded women. All the members of the club are life-long readers and each one has a lively interest in intellectual pursuits. 

I find that actually having to 'perform' in front of an audience is so much more fulfilling than the times in school when term papers were simply handed in to the teacher and then received back with a grade. Somehow having to think about how my audience might respond to the information I am writing makes for a tighter and more entertaining paper.

I have come a long way since the time I was in a fourth-grade talent show and kept my eyes closed the entire time I was on stage thinking - with my elementary-school brain - that if I couldn't see the audience then they couldn't see me!

Over the years I have learned some tricks that make speaking in front of an audience less terrifying than my early school year experiences. Yes, I did keep my eyes open! As a matter of fact, getting to share with the group the intriguing ideas and information that I have come across in my research is truly the best part - the frosting on the cake!

Thanks for your comments and for sending me your well wishes for this project.

Hmmm. Now, what do I want to research for next year's paper?

Listening In

Max and Agatha

In my research on Agatha Christie and her archaeological interests, I came across this five minute interview on the BBC with her husband Sir Max Mallowan. In it he tells how they met, talks a bit about experiences with her at work in the field, and lets the listener in on some of the ways she worked.

The interview took place in 1977 after Christie's death. It is always fascinating to hear the actual voice of someone that I have come to know through writings.

Sir Max Mallowan

Among others, there is also a three minute recording from 1955 with Dame Agatha herself in which she claims that she owes her writing career to the fact that she was 'gloriously idle' as a child and had to entertain herself with making up stories. 

Dame Agatha Christie

Here is your chance to listen in....

Come, Tell Me How You Live by Agatha Christie Mallowan

I am so glad I discovered Come, Tell Me How You Live (1946) by Agatha Christie. It gave me a look at quite a different side the famed mystery writer. It is billed as an archaeological memoir but it is not in the least bit as dusty as the places she writes about.

I thought it would be a somewhat dry retelling of days spent digging in the dirt and cleaning bits and bobs of found broken pottery.

Not so.

Instead, it is her delightful perspective of the people, customs and culture of Syria in the 1930s, the time she and husband Max Mallowan, archaeologist, were there. 

Her stories of the eccentricities of the servants, the tribal conflicts among the workers, the personalities of the house dogs and cats, her hopes for a good meal, the hospitality (and a bit of greed) of the sheikhs, the fussy rules and regulations of the French government officials, changing weather, flooded wadis, temperamental automobiles, fashion faux pas, language barrier mishaps, the handling of medical emergencies, and encounters with giggling veiled women and dirty children with runny noses, are all quite amusing.

It is more of a travel journal than a treatise on the exploration of archaeological sites. And it is quite funny which for some reason I didn't expect. Ms. Christie has quite a sharp eye for the amusing detail.

In the epilogue, written in the spring of 1944, she states that the book is a result of the rough notes and diaries that she kept during their seasons in Syria. It wasn't until after the war that she gathered her notes together as a way of looking again at experiences she "not only had but still has."

For it seems to me that it is good to remember that there were such days and such places, and that at this very minute my little hill of marigolds is in bloom, and old men with white beards trudging behind their donkeys may not even know there is a war. 

Inshallah, I shall go there again, and the things that I love shall not have perished from this earth...

Agatha Christie's Murder on the Links - DVD

I want to travel as Hercule Poirot does. He travels by train and always sits in a first class carriage. He only stays at the finest hotels -his basic requirement is that it employs an excellent chef. He never has to touch a piece of luggage. People recognize the famous detective everywhere he goes. Waiters and hotel staff cater to his every need. His fellow hotel guests are always fashionably dressed - nary a pair of jeans, flip-flops, or scuffed up athletic shoes in sight.

And his clothes never show a wrinkle.

Last night, in celebration of Dame Agatha Christie's birthday, I watched the DVD Murder on the Links. It stars David Suchet as Poirot and he couldn't have been more debonair. He and Hastings have come to Deauville, France; Hastings has just taken up golf and has booked them into a fine hotel with a fine golf course. 

But there is more to be found on the links than lost balls and sand traps. Hastings discovers a body and the mystery begins. 

In this story Hastings, although his golf game doesn't improve, does find romance and, Mon Dieu!, Poirot comes within a whisker of having to shave off his famous moustache to settle a bet.

I recently read this clever puzzler and wrote about it here, so I won't go into it too much, only to say that the film adaption has just as many suspects and surprises as did the book. A really big surprise is that, due to a change of characters, the murderer in the film is different from the killer in the book. Oh, well; I don't care. It is always such fun to see the fashions, room interiors, and location shots in these shows that the plot can take whatever turn it likes.
  
It was all great fun. The only thing missing in this birthday celebration was cake (sigh), and I do love cake.

In Which We Celebrate the Queen of Crime's Birthday

Dame Agatha Christie at her typewriter
(15 September 1890 - 12 January 1976)

This is Dame Agatha Christie's birthday. Today, her cake would have to be large enough to hold 123 candles.

If you are a fan of this mystery writer, as I am, you will never run out of things to read as she penned almost 70 books, over 100 short stories, as well as plays - those with original plots as well as those adapted from her novels.

I saw her play The Mousetrap at St Martin's Theatre in London twice - once in 1982 and again in 2002. I was just as surprised upon the revelation of the murderer the first time as I was twenty years later! It is the longest running play ever. It had its 25,000th performance last November and is still going. I do remember that the audience is asked to keep the ending a secret - my lips are sealed. 

There is much to be learned about this beloved author online and I will let you do your own research if you are so inclined. To get you started though, here is a link to a short video about her courtesy of Biography.com.

Agatha Christie, An Autobiography was published in 1977, the year after her death. I have added it to my TBR list even though it is some 600 pages long! I am currently reading her memoir, Come, Tell Me How You Live, which is a very amusing tale of her experiences with her husband, archaeologist Max Mallowan, in the Middle East. 

Ms. Christie's former home in Devon is open to the public and contains many of her family pieces. It would be a wonderful place to visit. For a glimpse, here is a link to the National Trust's page featuring Greenway Estate.

For tonight, to celebrate her birthday, I rented the DVD The Murder on the Links with David Suchet as the dapper M. Hercule Poirot (my favorite of her detectives). I recently read the book and wrote about it here. It will be fun to watch the story unfold on screen. As I remember, the plot has many twists and turns. Just what this mystery writer is famous for.

How will you celebrate Dame Agatha Christie's birthday?

Do You Think I Shall Have Room for All These?

An amusing look by Agatha Christie on packing with her husband Max for their first archaeological journey together in Come, Tell Me How You Live:

Packing!

There are several schools of thought as to packing. There are the people who begin packing at anything from a week or a fortnight beforehand. There are the people who throw a few things together half an hour before departure. There are the careful packers, insatiable for tissue paper! There are those who scorn tissue paper and just throw the things in and hope for the best! There are the packers who leave practically everything that they want behind! And there are the packers who take immense quantities of things that they will never need!

One thing can safely be said about an archaeological packing. It consists mainly of books. What books to take, what books can be taken, what books there are room for, what books can (with agony!) be left behind. I am firmly convinced that all 

archaeologists pack in the following manner: They decide on the maximum number of suitcases that a long suffering Wagon Lit Company will permit them to take. They then fill these suitcases to the brim with books. They then, reluctantly, take out a few books, and fill in the space thus obtained with shirt, pyjamas, socks, etc. 

Looking into Max's room, I am under the impression that the whole cubic space is filled with books! Through a chink in the books I catch sight of Max's worried face.

'Do you think,' he asks, 'that I shall have room for all these?'

The answer is so obviously in the negative that it seems sheer cruelty to say it.