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Hercule Poirot #32
Mrs. McGinty's Dead
An old widow is brutally killed in the parlour of her cottage…
Mrs McGinty died from a brutal blow to the back of her head. Suspicion fell immediately on her shifty lodger, James Bentley, whose clothes revealed traces of the victim’s blood and hair. Yet something was Bentley just didn’t look like a murderer.
Poirot believed he could save the man from the gallows – what he didn’t realise was that his own life was now in great danger…
Mrs McGinty died from a brutal blow to the back of her head. Suspicion fell immediately on her shifty lodger, James Bentley, whose clothes revealed traces of the victim’s blood and hair. Yet something was Bentley just didn’t look like a murderer.
Poirot believed he could save the man from the gallows – what he didn’t realise was that his own life was now in great danger…
328 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 1, 1952
About the author
Agatha Christie
4,572 books68.1k followersAgatha Christie also wrote romance novels under the pseudonym Mary Westmacott, and was occasionally published under the name Agatha Christie Mallowan.
Dame Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie, Lady Mallowan, DBE (née Miller) was an English writer known for her 66 detective novels and 14 short story collections, particularly those revolving around fictional detectives Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. She also wrote the world's longest-running play, the murder mystery The Mousetrap, which has been performed in the West End of London since 1952. A writer during the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction", Christie has been called the "Queen of Crime". She also wrote six novels under the pseudonym Mary Westmacott. In 1971, she was made a Dame (DBE) by Queen Elizabeth II for her contributions to literature. Guinness World Records lists Christie as the best-selling fiction writer of all time, her novels having sold more than two billion copies.
This best-selling author of all time wrote 66 crime novels and story collections, fourteen plays, and six novels under a pseudonym in romance. Her books sold more than a billion copies in the English language and a billion in translation. According to Index Translationum, people translated her works into 103 languages at least, the most for an individual author. Of the most enduring figures in crime literature, she created Hercule Poirot and Miss Jane Marple. She atuhored The Mousetrap, the longest-running play in the history of modern theater.
Associated Names:
Agata Christie
Agata Kristi
Агата Кристи (Russian)
Агата Крісті (Ukrainian)
Αγκάθα Κρίστι (Greek)
アガサ クリスティ (Japanese)
阿嘉莎·克莉絲蒂 (Chinese)
Dame Agatha Mary Clarissa Christie, Lady Mallowan, DBE (née Miller) was an English writer known for her 66 detective novels and 14 short story collections, particularly those revolving around fictional detectives Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. She also wrote the world's longest-running play, the murder mystery The Mousetrap, which has been performed in the West End of London since 1952. A writer during the "Golden Age of Detective Fiction", Christie has been called the "Queen of Crime". She also wrote six novels under the pseudonym Mary Westmacott. In 1971, she was made a Dame (DBE) by Queen Elizabeth II for her contributions to literature. Guinness World Records lists Christie as the best-selling fiction writer of all time, her novels having sold more than two billion copies.
This best-selling author of all time wrote 66 crime novels and story collections, fourteen plays, and six novels under a pseudonym in romance. Her books sold more than a billion copies in the English language and a billion in translation. According to Index Translationum, people translated her works into 103 languages at least, the most for an individual author. Of the most enduring figures in crime literature, she created Hercule Poirot and Miss Jane Marple. She atuhored The Mousetrap, the longest-running play in the history of modern theater.
Associated Names:
Agata Christie
Agata Kristi
Агата Кристи (Russian)
Агата Крісті (Ukrainian)
Αγκάθα Κρίστι (Greek)
アガサ クリスティ (Japanese)
阿嘉莎·克莉絲蒂 (Chinese)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,011 reviews
July 8, 2024
Another cool Christie mystery.
Superintendent Spence is not as well known as Inspector Japp, but he is another regular in Poirot's world.
So when he comes to the retired detective and asks him to look into a case, Hercule agrees.
Spence can't put his finger on it, but something just didn't sit right with him about the conviction of a man accused of murdering his elderly landlady. He doesn't want this dude's death on his conscience, but he has no proof that this man didn't do it. Unfortunately, the man himself is a thoroughly unlikeable character, who is of little to no help with his mopey personality and defeatist attitude.
Don't worry, Poirot will sort it all out.
But Spence isn't the only fan favorite who makes an appearance in this one.
Ariadne Oliver also shows up in town, announcing her presence by accidentally hitting Hercule with a flying apple core. She helps her old friend suss out the killer, all while arguing with a playwright over his reboot of her famous Finnish detective for the stage. In one conversation, he wants to sex poor Sven up and add a bit of romance to the story.
“Sven Hjerson never cared for women,” said Mrs. Oliver coldly.
“But you can’t have him a pansy, darling! Not for this sort of play. I mean it’s not green bay trees or anything like that. It’s thrills and murders and clean open-air fun.”
Take note, Kenneth Branagh!
This is one of the more fun books as far as the dialogue goes, and a lot of that is due to Mrs. Oliver.
The mystery is ok but I think Ariadne and her feelings towards her literary creation are the best part of this particular story. Because while Ariadne wasn't 100% Christie, she is a fun peek into how Agatha Christie somewhat felt about her life and her career as a writer.
I've heard this story referenced before in her other mysteries, so I'm glad I was finally able to tick this one off the list.
Would definitely recommend this one for fans.
Superintendent Spence is not as well known as Inspector Japp, but he is another regular in Poirot's world.
So when he comes to the retired detective and asks him to look into a case, Hercule agrees.
Spence can't put his finger on it, but something just didn't sit right with him about the conviction of a man accused of murdering his elderly landlady. He doesn't want this dude's death on his conscience, but he has no proof that this man didn't do it. Unfortunately, the man himself is a thoroughly unlikeable character, who is of little to no help with his mopey personality and defeatist attitude.
Don't worry, Poirot will sort it all out.
But Spence isn't the only fan favorite who makes an appearance in this one.
Ariadne Oliver also shows up in town, announcing her presence by accidentally hitting Hercule with a flying apple core. She helps her old friend suss out the killer, all while arguing with a playwright over his reboot of her famous Finnish detective for the stage. In one conversation, he wants to sex poor Sven up and add a bit of romance to the story.
“Sven Hjerson never cared for women,” said Mrs. Oliver coldly.
“But you can’t have him a pansy, darling! Not for this sort of play. I mean it’s not green bay trees or anything like that. It’s thrills and murders and clean open-air fun.”
Take note, Kenneth Branagh!
This is one of the more fun books as far as the dialogue goes, and a lot of that is due to Mrs. Oliver.
The mystery is ok but I think Ariadne and her feelings towards her literary creation are the best part of this particular story. Because while Ariadne wasn't 100% Christie, she is a fun peek into how Agatha Christie somewhat felt about her life and her career as a writer.
I've heard this story referenced before in her other mysteries, so I'm glad I was finally able to tick this one off the list.
Would definitely recommend this one for fans.
December 17, 2023
Hercule Poirot, book #30 sees Poirot looking into the case of a man on death (by hanging) row. Another good complex case, also featuring the wonderful ongoing supporting characters Ariadne Oliver and Superintendent Bert Spence. 7 out of 12, Three Stars
20132 read
20132 read
May 31, 2020
Poirot triumphs as ever. More tomorrow 😊
Another really enjoyable Poirot adventure. Poirot is called in to a case by an old friend, Superintendent Spence that has already come to a conclusion, a man has been tried and sentenced to death for the murder he committed. So what can Pappa Poirot do ? Superintendent Spence who was the SIO on the case is now convinced he made a mistake in convicting James Bentley of the murder of Mrs McGinty.
Poirot ends up staying with Mrs Summerhayes at Long Meadows which tries his patience with its untidiness and chaos. Things seem impossible until Poirot finds that Mrs McGinty had bought some ink recently, why ? Who was she writing to ? This single clue leads to a newspaper article and subsequently to an investigation into peoples hereditary and background, are they who they say they are ??
With little help from the convicted (and under sentence of death) James Bentley, Poirot has to delve deep and put himself in the firing line when he openly proclaims that he feels the conviction was erroneous and that the murderer is still at large in the peaceful friendly English village of Broadhinney
A great novel , a solid 4 stars and well worth reading if one is of a detective novel disposition.
Another really enjoyable Poirot adventure. Poirot is called in to a case by an old friend, Superintendent Spence that has already come to a conclusion, a man has been tried and sentenced to death for the murder he committed. So what can Pappa Poirot do ? Superintendent Spence who was the SIO on the case is now convinced he made a mistake in convicting James Bentley of the murder of Mrs McGinty.
Poirot ends up staying with Mrs Summerhayes at Long Meadows which tries his patience with its untidiness and chaos. Things seem impossible until Poirot finds that Mrs McGinty had bought some ink recently, why ? Who was she writing to ? This single clue leads to a newspaper article and subsequently to an investigation into peoples hereditary and background, are they who they say they are ??
With little help from the convicted (and under sentence of death) James Bentley, Poirot has to delve deep and put himself in the firing line when he openly proclaims that he feels the conviction was erroneous and that the murderer is still at large in the peaceful friendly English village of Broadhinney
A great novel , a solid 4 stars and well worth reading if one is of a detective novel disposition.
March 9, 2015
Alas, Mrs. McGinty; we hardly knew you.
Really. I mean that. She was a widow, a woman who cleaned houses and took in lodgers to make ends meet; had a niece whom she saw at holidays, and was perhaps a bit of a nosy parker; nothing extraordinary to fill the obituary. When Inspector Spence visits the retired Poirot, he shares his troubling concern that the man he arrested for murdering Mrs. McGinty, and who is now facing the death penalty, is not truly guilty. Yes, yes; the circumstantial evidence was damning, but James Bentley’s milquetoast personality seems so wrong for the deed. Could dear Poirot perhaps put his little grey cells to work? But the clues won’t be found in McGinty’s past; as Hercule Poirot points out “For, you see, Mon cher Spence, if Mrs. McGinty is just an ordinary charwoman–it is the murderer who must be extraordinary.”
It is true; the murderer is a bit extraordinary. The plotting has an interesting premise, albeit perhaps hard to understand in the modern age. A second murder (because there always is one, isn’t there?) was unsurprising. Overall, the book reminded me more than a bit of A Murder Is Announced, so perhaps take a break between if you are on a Christie binge, or perhaps visit one of her more exotic locales in between.
For once, Christie leads with Hercule instead of consulting him later, providing an enjoyable stroll down nostalgia lane. Poirot laments the loss of Hastings as a sounding board and audience, but since Poirot’s investigative strategy is to stir up the village, he ends up ‘confiding’ in a number of people. We are treated to Christie’s standard cast of the post-war English village: a penniless but connected couple with a shabby family manse, a overly dramatic woman who enjoys her own tales of woe, the dutiful but repressed daughter, a bold young woman emblematic of the new age, an insecure, unsmart woman attempting to climb the social ladder, a postmistress with a penchant for gossip. All standard in many Christies, along with the semi-invalid elderly woman and her playwright son, echoes of Marple’s nephew Raymond.
“Mrs. Sweetiman imparted all this information with relish. She prided herself on being well informed. Mrs. Weatherby whose desire for knitting needles had perhaps been prompted by a desire to know what was going on, paid for her purchase.“
Tone seems on the playful side, which self-referential remarks on writing, appreciation and performance. When Mrs. Oliver and her apples make an appearance, it becomes quite clear that Christie is taking an authorial aside to muse on readers who obstinately prefer troublesome characters and playwrights who take license with an author’s characters. “‘How do I know?’ said Mrs. Oliver crossly. ‘How do I know why I ever thought of the revolting man? I must have been mad!… Why all the idiotic mannerisms he’s got? These things just happen. You try something–and people seem to like it–and then you go on–and before you know where you are, you’ve got someone like that maddening Sven Hjerson tied to you for life.”
Poor Dame Christie. She seems to have had at least a gastronomic sort of revenge on Poirot at least, by boarding him at the worst guest-house possible: "I thought I would open a bottle of those raspberries I put up last summer. They seem to have a bit of mould on top but they say nowadays that that doesn't matter... --practically penicillin." If it is any post-humous consolation, in my old age, I prefer Miss Marple to the conceited Poirot, but I enjoy them both. Mrs. McGinty's Dead is one worth adding to the library.
Three and a half self-referential stars.
February 19, 2022
Agatha Christie Book Reading Challenge
BOOK 20 :- JULY 2020
3.25 STARS
BOOK 20 :- JULY 2020
3.25 STARS
July 23, 2019
Mrs. McGinty's Dead (Hercule Poirot #30), Agatha Christie
Mrs. McGinty's Dead is a work of detective fiction by Agatha Christie first published in the US by Dodd, Mead and Company in February 1952 and in the UK by the Collins Crime Club on 3 March the same year. An old woman apparently struck dead by her lodger for thirty pounds that she kept under a floorboard. When, however, he is asked by the investigating officer to take another look at the case to stop an innocent man going to the gallows, he realises that things may not be as simple as they first appear to be.
عنوان: مرگ خانم مگینتی؛ نویسنده: آگاتا کریستی؛ مترجم: مجتبی عبداللّه نژاد؛ تهران؛ هرمس، دی 1388؛ شابک: 9789643636326؛
داستان با قتل خانم مکگینتی یک سالمند در یک روستا آغاز میشود و مستاجر او محکوم میشود در صورتی که هرکول پوآرو اعتقاد دارد که کار وی نیست. پس از آن یکی دیگر از اهالی روستا به قتل میرسد و داستان به ماجراهای قدیمی مرتبط میشود... ا. شربیانی
Mrs. McGinty's Dead is a work of detective fiction by Agatha Christie first published in the US by Dodd, Mead and Company in February 1952 and in the UK by the Collins Crime Club on 3 March the same year. An old woman apparently struck dead by her lodger for thirty pounds that she kept under a floorboard. When, however, he is asked by the investigating officer to take another look at the case to stop an innocent man going to the gallows, he realises that things may not be as simple as they first appear to be.
عنوان: مرگ خانم مگینتی؛ نویسنده: آگاتا کریستی؛ مترجم: مجتبی عبداللّه نژاد؛ تهران؛ هرمس، دی 1388؛ شابک: 9789643636326؛
داستان با قتل خانم مکگینتی یک سالمند در یک روستا آغاز میشود و مستاجر او محکوم میشود در صورتی که هرکول پوآرو اعتقاد دارد که کار وی نیست. پس از آن یکی دیگر از اهالی روستا به قتل میرسد و داستان به ماجراهای قدیمی مرتبط میشود... ا. شربیانی
June 14, 2023
کتابای اگاتا و مخصوصا اونایی که شخصیت اصلیشون پوآرو هست(با اون شخصیت مغرور و سبیل قشنگش🤭) جوری دوست دارم که وقتی دستم میگیرمش دیگه تا تمامش نکنم نمیتونم زمین بزارمش😅
این کتاب هم همین شد و دقیقا توی ۲۴ ساعت تمامش کردم و به شدت از خوندنش لذت بردم🫠
پ.ن: ترجمه چرا اینقدر بد بود؟ گو؟ گو؟ بیخیال بابا اخه کی وقت حرف زدن هی میگه گو اینکه اینکونه بود؟😐
این کتاب هم همین شد و دقیقا توی ۲۴ ساعت تمامش کردم و به شدت از خوندنش لذت بردم🫠
پ.ن: ترجمه چرا اینقدر بد بود؟ گو؟ گو؟ بیخیال بابا اخه کی وقت حرف زدن هی میگه گو اینکه اینکونه بود؟😐
August 9, 2021
Most of Christie's “classic” Poirot novels were written in the decades between the World Wars; that's the milieu readers (or, at least, this reader) typically associates him with. First published in 1952, this is one of the later entries in the canon. From the beginning of the Poirot books, it's been suggested that he's no longer young, and either semi-retired or thinking of retiring. By now, though, he actually is elderly (the author describes him at one point as “very old”) and really retired. (But “the little grey cells” haven't lost their acuity....)
In the first pages, our hero struck me almost as a caricature of himself, compared to the portrayal in earlier novels. He's always liked his creature comforts, and he's always been super-vain; but to my knowledge he hasn't previously been depicted as practically living for his stomach, as he is here, and if I were Capt. Hastings (who's absent in this book) and were privy to his reflections about the relationship, he'd never see me again. (He misses his sidekick solely for the latter's utility as a “stooge” to admire his genius. :-( ) And when he receives a visit from a police acquaintance, Superintendent Spence, his early misapprehension of the man's purpose is so emotionally tone deaf and clueless as to be, in my estimation, totally unlike the usually perceptive and supremely tactful Poirot that I know.
However, once Christie gets into the mystery aspect of the plot, she hits her stride, and Poirot is again himself. The previous November (it's now warm weather again), in the English provincial village of Broadhinny, an apparently inoffensive, widowed cleaning lady in her 60s was murdered in her cottage, her head bashed in with an unidentified weapon and her modest savings stolen from under a floorboard. (They were subsequently found hidden outside the dwelling.) Her unemployed, generally not well liked lodger, James Bentley, was arrested for the crime, on strong evidence developed by Spence, and has now been convicted and sentenced to hang. The problem is that Spence (who's nearing retirement age himself), based on a lifetime of experience with murderers, doesn't believe Bentley is the right psychological type to be guilty of this sort of crime, despite the strength of the case against him. He wants Poirot, as a favor, to look into the case with an eye to seeing whether someone else could be the real culprit. Respecting his psychological judgment, and caring about justice as much as Spence does (and being bored out of his skull with retirement!) Poirot takes on the task, though there's no money in it. This will be a challenging case, because Broadhinny is a mare's nest of secrets; and with an execution in the offing, time is of the essence.
This is a very well-constructed, tightly-plotted mystery, which kept me guessing from the beginning. With some mystery reads, I'm able to guess the culprit well before the reveal. But here I couldn't; and while I had a tentative theory or two towards the end, the true identity and motivation of the killer was a total surprise. As is characteristic of this author, there is a finite pool of suspects; the murderer had to be a local resident who knew where Mrs. McGinty kept her money, and Broadhinney isn't a very populous place. Moreover, without Hastings as narrator, our main viewpoint character is Poirot himself, so we follow the development of the case and its clues largely through his eyes. Still, Dame Agatha provides enough plot complexity and red herrings that I suspect most readers will be as surprised by the denouement (explained in another characteristic Christie device, the gathering of all the main characters in one room for Poirot to conduct the Big Reveal) as I was. She tells her story with plenty of attention to developing realistic characters and insightfully exploring their relationships (as in many other Christie novels, there's a Cast of Characters preceding the text; but I skipped this, preferring to form my own impressions from the beginning), and sprinkles in some touches of humor. Partly compensating for Hasting's absence, another character who appears in several Poirot novels, his mystery-writing friend Ariadne Oliver, shows up about halfway in, though she's only a secondary character here. I'd encountered her previously in Dead Man's Folly, which I read as a kid, though that book was actually written later than this one. (Her character clearly incorporates something of Christie's own personality; and her “series character” Sven Hjerson, a 60-something eccentric Finnish expatriate detective, whose creator detests him but has come to be saddled with him because her fans like him, gives us a wryly humorous meta-fictional glimpse of Christie's own feelings about Poirot after 30+ years of writing about him.) In other reviews, I've noted that Christie usually doesn't convey much of a period feel in most of her books (that I've read). Here, however, it's a bit more marked; at least, I picked up an ambiance of post-war England, not yet fully recovered from World War II (there are still ration books, for instance), and beginning an era of economic decline and social-cultural unraveling, with malaise and a sense of worthwhile things being lost very much in the air.
All in all, this was a very rewarding read of its type, and a solid addition to the Poirot corpus. No fan of traditional mysteries would be apt to be disappointed with it.
In the first pages, our hero struck me almost as a caricature of himself, compared to the portrayal in earlier novels. He's always liked his creature comforts, and he's always been super-vain; but to my knowledge he hasn't previously been depicted as practically living for his stomach, as he is here, and if I were Capt. Hastings (who's absent in this book) and were privy to his reflections about the relationship, he'd never see me again. (He misses his sidekick solely for the latter's utility as a “stooge” to admire his genius. :-( ) And when he receives a visit from a police acquaintance, Superintendent Spence, his early misapprehension of the man's purpose is so emotionally tone deaf and clueless as to be, in my estimation, totally unlike the usually perceptive and supremely tactful Poirot that I know.
However, once Christie gets into the mystery aspect of the plot, she hits her stride, and Poirot is again himself. The previous November (it's now warm weather again), in the English provincial village of Broadhinny, an apparently inoffensive, widowed cleaning lady in her 60s was murdered in her cottage, her head bashed in with an unidentified weapon and her modest savings stolen from under a floorboard. (They were subsequently found hidden outside the dwelling.) Her unemployed, generally not well liked lodger, James Bentley, was arrested for the crime, on strong evidence developed by Spence, and has now been convicted and sentenced to hang. The problem is that Spence (who's nearing retirement age himself), based on a lifetime of experience with murderers, doesn't believe Bentley is the right psychological type to be guilty of this sort of crime, despite the strength of the case against him. He wants Poirot, as a favor, to look into the case with an eye to seeing whether someone else could be the real culprit. Respecting his psychological judgment, and caring about justice as much as Spence does (and being bored out of his skull with retirement!) Poirot takes on the task, though there's no money in it. This will be a challenging case, because Broadhinny is a mare's nest of secrets; and with an execution in the offing, time is of the essence.
This is a very well-constructed, tightly-plotted mystery, which kept me guessing from the beginning. With some mystery reads, I'm able to guess the culprit well before the reveal. But here I couldn't; and while I had a tentative theory or two towards the end, the true identity and motivation of the killer was a total surprise. As is characteristic of this author, there is a finite pool of suspects; the murderer had to be a local resident who knew where Mrs. McGinty kept her money, and Broadhinney isn't a very populous place. Moreover, without Hastings as narrator, our main viewpoint character is Poirot himself, so we follow the development of the case and its clues largely through his eyes. Still, Dame Agatha provides enough plot complexity and red herrings that I suspect most readers will be as surprised by the denouement (explained in another characteristic Christie device, the gathering of all the main characters in one room for Poirot to conduct the Big Reveal) as I was. She tells her story with plenty of attention to developing realistic characters and insightfully exploring their relationships (as in many other Christie novels, there's a Cast of Characters preceding the text; but I skipped this, preferring to form my own impressions from the beginning), and sprinkles in some touches of humor. Partly compensating for Hasting's absence, another character who appears in several Poirot novels, his mystery-writing friend Ariadne Oliver, shows up about halfway in, though she's only a secondary character here. I'd encountered her previously in Dead Man's Folly, which I read as a kid, though that book was actually written later than this one. (Her character clearly incorporates something of Christie's own personality; and her “series character” Sven Hjerson, a 60-something eccentric Finnish expatriate detective, whose creator detests him but has come to be saddled with him because her fans like him, gives us a wryly humorous meta-fictional glimpse of Christie's own feelings about Poirot after 30+ years of writing about him.) In other reviews, I've noted that Christie usually doesn't convey much of a period feel in most of her books (that I've read). Here, however, it's a bit more marked; at least, I picked up an ambiance of post-war England, not yet fully recovered from World War II (there are still ration books, for instance), and beginning an era of economic decline and social-cultural unraveling, with malaise and a sense of worthwhile things being lost very much in the air.
All in all, this was a very rewarding read of its type, and a solid addition to the Poirot corpus. No fan of traditional mysteries would be apt to be disappointed with it.
June 13, 2021
I really enjoyed it! The barbs at Poirot that Christie laid out were a complete scream. Actually there's quite a bit of humour in this one. Also, Ariadne Oliver is my favourite and for the little she was here, I just adored her. She left abruptly and I was sad to see her go. I loved Poirot playing matchmaker for a couple who complement one another perfectly and would be happy together. It was novel because they weren't the usual and I was pulling for both to be happy at the end of the story. I wanted them to have a win.
Btw, the mystery was fun to try and solve but is just about impossible to my mind. I think I must have seen an adaptation before because there's an instance with the murderer that seemed odd to me and made me suspect it was they but I couldn't figure out the why. A great whodunnit and howdunnit to pass a weekend.
Recommended.
Favourite quotes and passages:
The barbs at Poirot were resplendent! I loved them as much as I adore him!:
"His name, he noted with chagrin, made no particular impression on her. The younger generation, he could not but feel, were singularly lacking in knowledge of notable celebrities."
"It is my weakness, it has always been my weakness, to desire to show off. That weakness, Hastings could never understand. But indeed it is very necessary for a man of my abilities to admire himself—and for that one needs stimulation from outside. I cannot, truly I cannot, sit in a chair all day reflecting how truly admirable I am. One needs the human touch. One needs—as they say nowadays—the stooge.”
"He was the great, the unique Hercule Poirot, but he was also a very old man and his shoes were tight."
Ariadne Oliver is a legend and I really need to watch that Sven Hjerson adaptation! Also, how has no one written cozies of them by now?! Those titles are begging for it! I'll happily read fan fiction.:
Mrs. Oliver suddenly arrived out on the road, rather in the manner of a volcanic eruption.
Sadly, Mrs. Oliver ran her hands through her windswept grey hair, causing it to look as though swept not by wind but by a tornado.
“The Affair of the Second Goldfish,” she mused, “that’s quite a good one. The Cat it was Who Died—that’s where I made a blowpipe a foot long and it’s really six feet. Ridiculous that a blowpipe should be that size, but someone wrote from a museum to tell me so. Sometimes I think there are people who only read books in the hope of finding mistakes in them. What’s the other one of them? Oh! Death of a Débutante—that’s frightful tripe! I made sulphonal soluble in water and it isn’t, and the whole thing is wildly impossible from start to finish. At least eight people die before Sven Hjerson gets his brainwave.”
“How do I know why I ever thought of the revolting man? I must have been mad! Why a Finn when I know nothing about Finland? Why a vegetarian? Why all the idiotic manerisms he’s got? These things just happen. You try something—and people seem to like it—and then you go on—and before you know where you are, you’ve got someone like that maddening Sven Hjerson tied to you for life. And people even write and say how fond you must be of him. Fond of him? If I met that bony, gangling, vegetable-eating Finn in real life, I’d do a better murder than any I’ve ever invented.”
Maureen Summerhayes is the mistress of the Long Meadows and is trying to make a go of turning into a proper B&B type thing. Sadly and hilariously, she's a complete disaster at all things domestic. The woman leaves spinach in a colander on a chair in the sitting room and serves her guests beans she's bled all over in a preparatory mishap. She was a constant pain and truly a danger to health that plagued Poirot during his stay there and literally no one wanted to hear his quite legitimate laments. I couldn't stop laughing!
“I didn’t get to that pudding in time. It had boiled dry. I think it’s really all right—just a little scorched perhaps. In case it tasted rather nasty I thought I would open a bottle of those raspberries I put up last summer. They seem to have a bit of mould on top but they say nowadays that that doesn’t matter. It’s really rather good for you—practically penicillin.”
And just because they're great lines:
“When people barely notice you’re alive, you’re not likely to have any enemies.”
“It is you, mon ami? Attend, I pray. I have news for you. Splendid news. Somebody has tried to kill me. . . .”
"Authors were shy, unsociable creatures, atoning for their lack of social aptitude by inventing their own companions and conversations."
"The bereaved had never any doubt about their dear ones’ wishes and those wishes usually squared with their own inclinations."
Btw, the mystery was fun to try and solve but is just about impossible to my mind. I think I must have seen an adaptation before because there's an instance with the murderer that seemed odd to me and made me suspect it was they but I couldn't figure out the why. A great whodunnit and howdunnit to pass a weekend.
Recommended.
Favourite quotes and passages:
The barbs at Poirot were resplendent! I loved them as much as I adore him!:
"His name, he noted with chagrin, made no particular impression on her. The younger generation, he could not but feel, were singularly lacking in knowledge of notable celebrities."
"It is my weakness, it has always been my weakness, to desire to show off. That weakness, Hastings could never understand. But indeed it is very necessary for a man of my abilities to admire himself—and for that one needs stimulation from outside. I cannot, truly I cannot, sit in a chair all day reflecting how truly admirable I am. One needs the human touch. One needs—as they say nowadays—the stooge.”
"He was the great, the unique Hercule Poirot, but he was also a very old man and his shoes were tight."
Ariadne Oliver is a legend and I really need to watch that Sven Hjerson adaptation! Also, how has no one written cozies of them by now?! Those titles are begging for it! I'll happily read fan fiction.:
Mrs. Oliver suddenly arrived out on the road, rather in the manner of a volcanic eruption.
Sadly, Mrs. Oliver ran her hands through her windswept grey hair, causing it to look as though swept not by wind but by a tornado.
“The Affair of the Second Goldfish,” she mused, “that’s quite a good one. The Cat it was Who Died—that’s where I made a blowpipe a foot long and it’s really six feet. Ridiculous that a blowpipe should be that size, but someone wrote from a museum to tell me so. Sometimes I think there are people who only read books in the hope of finding mistakes in them. What’s the other one of them? Oh! Death of a Débutante—that’s frightful tripe! I made sulphonal soluble in water and it isn’t, and the whole thing is wildly impossible from start to finish. At least eight people die before Sven Hjerson gets his brainwave.”
“How do I know why I ever thought of the revolting man? I must have been mad! Why a Finn when I know nothing about Finland? Why a vegetarian? Why all the idiotic manerisms he’s got? These things just happen. You try something—and people seem to like it—and then you go on—and before you know where you are, you’ve got someone like that maddening Sven Hjerson tied to you for life. And people even write and say how fond you must be of him. Fond of him? If I met that bony, gangling, vegetable-eating Finn in real life, I’d do a better murder than any I’ve ever invented.”
Maureen Summerhayes is the mistress of the Long Meadows and is trying to make a go of turning into a proper B&B type thing. Sadly and hilariously, she's a complete disaster at all things domestic. The woman leaves spinach in a colander on a chair in the sitting room and serves her guests beans she's bled all over in a preparatory mishap. She was a constant pain and truly a danger to health that plagued Poirot during his stay there and literally no one wanted to hear his quite legitimate laments. I couldn't stop laughing!
“I didn’t get to that pudding in time. It had boiled dry. I think it’s really all right—just a little scorched perhaps. In case it tasted rather nasty I thought I would open a bottle of those raspberries I put up last summer. They seem to have a bit of mould on top but they say nowadays that that doesn’t matter. It’s really rather good for you—practically penicillin.”
And just because they're great lines:
“When people barely notice you’re alive, you’re not likely to have any enemies.”
“It is you, mon ami? Attend, I pray. I have news for you. Splendid news. Somebody has tried to kill me. . . .”
"Authors were shy, unsociable creatures, atoning for their lack of social aptitude by inventing their own companions and conversations."
"The bereaved had never any doubt about their dear ones’ wishes and those wishes usually squared with their own inclinations."
April 29, 2023
8.75/10
با افتخار اعلام میکنم که گناهکار رو شناسایی کردم، البته دقیقا قاتل نبوداا و حدود ده تا مظنون دیگه هم داشتم...
به عنوان کسیکه جنایی-معمایی سومین ژانر انتخابیشه، به نظرم دو نوع کتاب خوب هست، یکی لاک داون، تعداد کم و احتمالا تنها در یک پلات؛ دومی که مرگ/قتل خانم مگنیتی هم جزو این دسته است، شلوغ، پر از آدمهای مرموز و مظنون، جنایتهای جدید و رازهای قدیمی.
سی و دومین کتاب هرکول پوآرو و سومین کتاب از مجموعه خانم الیور (نویسنده کتابهای جنایی) با روایت سوم شخص که به نظرم بهتر از راجر اکروید و هستینگز بود.
Hercule Poirot
1.The Mysterious Affair at Styles طلوع در استایلز ⭐7.5/10
2.The Murder on the Links (audio) to-read
3.Poirot Investigates (audio) to-read
4.The Murder of Roger Ackroyd قتل راجر اکروید ⭐7/10
5.The Big Four to-read
12.Death in the Clouds مرگ در میان ابرها ⭐8/10
13.The A.B.C. Murders قتلهای الفبایی ⭐8.5/10
18.Death on the Nile مرگ بر فراز نیل to-read
24.Evil Under the Sun شرارتی زیر آفتاب ⭐8/10
32.Mrs. McGinty's Dead 8.75/10⭐ قتل خانم مگنیتی
44.Curtain پرده ⭐9.25/10
Miss Marple Series
7.A Pocket Full of Rye جیب پر از چاودار ⭐6/10
10.A Caribbean Mystery معمای کارائیب to-read
Tommy & Tuppence Mysteries
1.The Secret Adversary ماجراهای تامی و توپنس (ویدا) / (هرمس) دشمن پنهان ⭐9.25/10
2.Partners in Crime شرکای جرم to-read
3.N or M? ان یا ام؟ to-read
4.By the Pricking of My Thumbs سوزش سرانگشتان/ عروسکی در دودکش بخاری to-read
5.Postern of Fate to-read
stand alone
-And Then There Were None و آنگاه هیچکس نماند ⭐9.5/10
-Ordeal by Innocence مصیبت بیگناهی ⭐8/10
با افتخار اعلام میکنم که گناهکار رو شناسایی کردم، البته دقیقا قاتل نبوداا و حدود ده تا مظنون دیگه هم داشتم...
به عنوان کسیکه جنایی-معمایی سومین ژانر انتخابیشه، به نظرم دو نوع کتاب خوب هست، یکی لاک داون، تعداد کم و احتمالا تنها در یک پلات؛ دومی که مرگ/قتل خانم مگنیتی هم جزو این دسته است، شلوغ، پر از آدمهای مرموز و مظنون، جنایتهای جدید و رازهای قدیمی.
سی و دومین کتاب هرکول پوآرو و سومین کتاب از مجموعه خانم الیور (نویسنده کتابهای جنایی) با روایت سوم شخص که به نظرم بهتر از راجر اکروید و هستینگز بود.
Hercule Poirot
1.The Mysterious Affair at Styles طلوع در استایلز ⭐7.5/10
2.The Murder on the Links (audio) to-read
3.Poirot Investigates (audio) to-read
4.The Murder of Roger Ackroyd قتل راجر اکروید ⭐7/10
5.The Big Four to-read
12.Death in the Clouds مرگ در میان ابرها ⭐8/10
13.The A.B.C. Murders قتلهای الفبایی ⭐8.5/10
18.Death on the Nile مرگ بر فراز نیل to-read
24.Evil Under the Sun شرارتی زیر آفتاب ⭐8/10
32.Mrs. McGinty's Dead 8.75/10⭐ قتل خانم مگنیتی
44.Curtain پرده ⭐9.25/10
Miss Marple Series
7.A Pocket Full of Rye جیب پر از چاودار ⭐6/10
10.A Caribbean Mystery معمای کارائیب to-read
Tommy & Tuppence Mysteries
1.The Secret Adversary ماجراهای تامی و توپنس (ویدا) / (هرمس) دشمن پنهان ⭐9.25/10
2.Partners in Crime شرکای جرم to-read
3.N or M? ان یا ام؟ to-read
4.By the Pricking of My Thumbs سوزش سرانگشتان/ عروسکی در دودکش بخاری to-read
5.Postern of Fate to-read
stand alone
-And Then There Were None و آنگاه هیچکس نماند ⭐9.5/10
-Ordeal by Innocence مصیبت بیگناهی ⭐8/10
February 6, 2017
‘I should, perhaps, madame, tell you a little more about myself. I am Hercule Poirot.’
The revelation left Mrs Summerhayes unmoved.
‘What a lovely name,’ she said kindly. ‘Greek, isn’t it?’
Now this is a Poirot novel that strays from the script a bit. It's fascinating but there seem to be three parts to this novel and the crime/mystery part is the weakest one. Yet, I really liked the book because first and foremost, Christie made me laugh out loud quite a few times.
Eh bien, let's start with the weakest part - the crime/mystery:
So, Mrs. McGinty is found dead and her lodger has been arrested, is standing trial, and will probably be sentenced to hang, but ... Superintendent Spence is having doubts and is consulting an old acquaintance to have a look at the case.
‘I don’t know what you’ll go there as,’ continued Spence doubtfully as he eyed Poirot. ‘You might be some kind of an opera singer. Voice broken down. Got to rest. That might do.’
‘I shall go,’ said Hercule Poirot, speaking with accents of royal blood, ‘as myself.’
Spence received this pronouncement with pursed lips. ‘D’you think that’s advisable?’
From there on, the typical sleuthing adventure ensues, except that there are a lot - and I do mean way too many - characters that are part of the investigation, a few red herrings, Ariadne Oliver - whose involvement in the book has less to do with the plot (I'll get to that later) -, and an ending that seems to have been rather far-fetched.
In fact, by the time the mystery was resolved, I had kinda lost interest in the whodunit part and really enjoyed the characters interacting with each other.
This book is really not about the mystery, which, in my opinion, was rather sub-par. No rather, the book seems to have been a self-reverential celebration of all things Poirot. And this may or may not be to readers tastes. I quite liked it in this case.
We have a lot of details about Poirot himself:
In his early days, he had seen plenty of crude brutality. It had been more the rule than the exception. He found it fatiguing, and unintelligent.
---
My work has enslaved me just as their work enslaves them. When the hour of leisure arrives, they have nothing with which to fill their leisure.
We have a couple of tips of the hat to The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, which was published 25(!) years before Mrs. McGintys Dead, when Poirot discussed gardening with Spence:
Me, once I decided to live in the country and grow vegetable marrows. It did not succeed. I have not the temperament.’
In many of the details that describe Poirot in this book, Christie seems to take a retrospective stance, It serves as a celebration of his previous adventures, but I also could not help feeling that Christie took the opportunity to have some fun herself and poke her famous character at every opportunity. Not only, does she send Poirot to the country - and we all know how much Poirot hates the country -
It’s not really a Guest House, just a rather decrepit country house where the young couple who own it take in paying guests. I don’t think,’ said Spence dubiously, ‘that it’s very comfortable.’
Hercule Poirot closed his eyes in agony. ‘If I suffer, I suffer,’ he said. ‘It has to be.’
And Christie makes sure of it his suffering. This was one of my favourite parts and I am sure anyone who has ever been exasperated by Poirot's eccentricities would chuckle about the following scene of Poirot taking up lodgings at a country inn:
The room was large, and had a faded Morris wall-paper. Steel engravings of unpleasant subjects hung crookedly on the walls with one or two good oil paintings. The chair-covers were both faded and dirty, the carpet had holes in it and had never been of a pleasant design. A good deal of miscellaneous bric-à-brac was scattered haphazard here and there. Tables rocked dangerously owing to absence of castors. One window was open, and no power on earth could, apparently, shut it again. The door, temporarily shut, was not likely to remain so. The latch did not hold, and with every gust of wind it burst open and whirling gusts of cold wind eddied round the room.
‘I suffer,’ said Hercule Poirot to himself in acute self-pity. ‘Yes, I suffer.’
The door burst open and the wind and Mrs Summerhayes came in together. She looked round the room, shouted ‘What?’ to someone in the distance and went out again.
Mrs Summerhayes had red hair and an attractively freckled face and was usually in a distracted state of putting things down, or else looking for them.
Hercule Poirot sprang to his feet and shut the door.
A moment or two later it opened again and Mrs Summerhayes reappeared. This time she was carrying a large enamel basin and a knife.
A man’s voice from some way away called out: ‘Maureen, that cat’s been sick again. What shall I do?’
Mrs Summerhayes called: ‘I’m coming, darling. Hold everything.’ She dropped the basin and the knife and went out again.
Poirot got up again and shut the door. He said: ‘Decidedly, I suffer.’
As I said I really enjoyed this part of the story but I did keep wondering why Christie took to treating Poirot in such a way. Was it to celebrate him or was she falling out with him as a character that had become so famous that he had a life of his own - just as Arthur Conan Doyle fell out with Holmes?
Which brings me to the third part - Ariadne Oliver. Ariadne is basically Christie's way of injecting a fictionalised version of herself into the Poirot stories, and in this one Ariadne enters the scene - nearly knocking Poirot over with her car - and spends a lot of time agonising over how her own fictional creation - Sven Hjerson - is being changed inappropriately by theatre and film producers.
Robin continued blithely: ‘What I feel is, here’s that wonderful young man, parachuted down—’
Mrs Oliver interrupted: ‘He’s sixty.’
‘Oh no!’
‘He is.’
‘I don’t see him like that. Thirty-five— not a day older.’
‘But I’ve been writing books about him for thirty years, and he was at least thirty-five in the first one.’
‘But, darling, if he’s sixty, you can’t have the tension between him and the girl— what’s her name? Ingrid. I mean, it would make him just a nasty old man!’
‘It certainly would.’
‘So you see, he must be thirty-five,’ said Robin triumphantly.
‘Then he can’t be Sven Hjerson. Just make him a Norwegian young man who’s in the Resistance Movement.’
‘But darling Ariadne, the whole point of the play is Sven Hjerson. You’ve got an enormous public who simply adore Sven Hjerson, and who’ll flock to see Sven Hjerson. He’s box office, darling!’
Yeah, I can see Christie having exactly this sort of conversation with agents and producers about Poirot and Marple, and I can see Christie using this particular book as a dig at people trying to exploit her characters. And given the resolution of the plot, what a dig this is!!! If only it had deterred her estate to employ Charles Osborne to adapt her plays as novels!
So, while the mystery plot is rather mediocre, the context this novel provides for Poirot as a character that has developed a public persona outside of the books is just marvelous.
The revelation left Mrs Summerhayes unmoved.
‘What a lovely name,’ she said kindly. ‘Greek, isn’t it?’
Now this is a Poirot novel that strays from the script a bit. It's fascinating but there seem to be three parts to this novel and the crime/mystery part is the weakest one. Yet, I really liked the book because first and foremost, Christie made me laugh out loud quite a few times.
Eh bien, let's start with the weakest part - the crime/mystery:
So, Mrs. McGinty is found dead and her lodger has been arrested, is standing trial, and will probably be sentenced to hang, but ... Superintendent Spence is having doubts and is consulting an old acquaintance to have a look at the case.
‘I don’t know what you’ll go there as,’ continued Spence doubtfully as he eyed Poirot. ‘You might be some kind of an opera singer. Voice broken down. Got to rest. That might do.’
‘I shall go,’ said Hercule Poirot, speaking with accents of royal blood, ‘as myself.’
Spence received this pronouncement with pursed lips. ‘D’you think that’s advisable?’
From there on, the typical sleuthing adventure ensues, except that there are a lot - and I do mean way too many - characters that are part of the investigation, a few red herrings, Ariadne Oliver - whose involvement in the book has less to do with the plot (I'll get to that later) -, and an ending that seems to have been rather far-fetched.
In fact, by the time the mystery was resolved, I had kinda lost interest in the whodunit part and really enjoyed the characters interacting with each other.
This book is really not about the mystery, which, in my opinion, was rather sub-par. No rather, the book seems to have been a self-reverential celebration of all things Poirot. And this may or may not be to readers tastes. I quite liked it in this case.
We have a lot of details about Poirot himself:
In his early days, he had seen plenty of crude brutality. It had been more the rule than the exception. He found it fatiguing, and unintelligent.
---
My work has enslaved me just as their work enslaves them. When the hour of leisure arrives, they have nothing with which to fill their leisure.
We have a couple of tips of the hat to The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, which was published 25(!) years before Mrs. McGintys Dead, when Poirot discussed gardening with Spence:
Me, once I decided to live in the country and grow vegetable marrows. It did not succeed. I have not the temperament.’
In many of the details that describe Poirot in this book, Christie seems to take a retrospective stance, It serves as a celebration of his previous adventures, but I also could not help feeling that Christie took the opportunity to have some fun herself and poke her famous character at every opportunity. Not only, does she send Poirot to the country - and we all know how much Poirot hates the country -
It’s not really a Guest House, just a rather decrepit country house where the young couple who own it take in paying guests. I don’t think,’ said Spence dubiously, ‘that it’s very comfortable.’
Hercule Poirot closed his eyes in agony. ‘If I suffer, I suffer,’ he said. ‘It has to be.’
And Christie makes sure of it his suffering. This was one of my favourite parts and I am sure anyone who has ever been exasperated by Poirot's eccentricities would chuckle about the following scene of Poirot taking up lodgings at a country inn:
The room was large, and had a faded Morris wall-paper. Steel engravings of unpleasant subjects hung crookedly on the walls with one or two good oil paintings. The chair-covers were both faded and dirty, the carpet had holes in it and had never been of a pleasant design. A good deal of miscellaneous bric-à-brac was scattered haphazard here and there. Tables rocked dangerously owing to absence of castors. One window was open, and no power on earth could, apparently, shut it again. The door, temporarily shut, was not likely to remain so. The latch did not hold, and with every gust of wind it burst open and whirling gusts of cold wind eddied round the room.
‘I suffer,’ said Hercule Poirot to himself in acute self-pity. ‘Yes, I suffer.’
The door burst open and the wind and Mrs Summerhayes came in together. She looked round the room, shouted ‘What?’ to someone in the distance and went out again.
Mrs Summerhayes had red hair and an attractively freckled face and was usually in a distracted state of putting things down, or else looking for them.
Hercule Poirot sprang to his feet and shut the door.
A moment or two later it opened again and Mrs Summerhayes reappeared. This time she was carrying a large enamel basin and a knife.
A man’s voice from some way away called out: ‘Maureen, that cat’s been sick again. What shall I do?’
Mrs Summerhayes called: ‘I’m coming, darling. Hold everything.’ She dropped the basin and the knife and went out again.
Poirot got up again and shut the door. He said: ‘Decidedly, I suffer.’
As I said I really enjoyed this part of the story but I did keep wondering why Christie took to treating Poirot in such a way. Was it to celebrate him or was she falling out with him as a character that had become so famous that he had a life of his own - just as Arthur Conan Doyle fell out with Holmes?
Which brings me to the third part - Ariadne Oliver. Ariadne is basically Christie's way of injecting a fictionalised version of herself into the Poirot stories, and in this one Ariadne enters the scene - nearly knocking Poirot over with her car - and spends a lot of time agonising over how her own fictional creation - Sven Hjerson - is being changed inappropriately by theatre and film producers.
Robin continued blithely: ‘What I feel is, here’s that wonderful young man, parachuted down—’
Mrs Oliver interrupted: ‘He’s sixty.’
‘Oh no!’
‘He is.’
‘I don’t see him like that. Thirty-five— not a day older.’
‘But I’ve been writing books about him for thirty years, and he was at least thirty-five in the first one.’
‘But, darling, if he’s sixty, you can’t have the tension between him and the girl— what’s her name? Ingrid. I mean, it would make him just a nasty old man!’
‘It certainly would.’
‘So you see, he must be thirty-five,’ said Robin triumphantly.
‘Then he can’t be Sven Hjerson. Just make him a Norwegian young man who’s in the Resistance Movement.’
‘But darling Ariadne, the whole point of the play is Sven Hjerson. You’ve got an enormous public who simply adore Sven Hjerson, and who’ll flock to see Sven Hjerson. He’s box office, darling!’
Yeah, I can see Christie having exactly this sort of conversation with agents and producers about Poirot and Marple, and I can see Christie using this particular book as a dig at people trying to exploit her characters. And given the resolution of the plot, what a dig this is!!! If only it had deterred her estate to employ Charles Osborne to adapt her plays as novels!
So, while the mystery plot is rather mediocre, the context this novel provides for Poirot as a character that has developed a public persona outside of the books is just marvelous.
February 2, 2020
Another fine Christie mystery that keeps the reader guessing until the very end.
The fact that this is the 30th Poirot book seems to be noticed as the Belgium detective reminisces of his time with Hastings while a returing character adds much fun to the second half of the novel.
Yet again Christie spings an interesting hook as Poirot is informed by Superintendent Spence of his suspicions that convicted James Bentley might not be the real culprit of Mrs Mcgintys death, with days before his execution time is ticking for his name to be cleared.
It soon becomes apparent that the true motive is much more than the £30 that was stolen.
It's a fascinating mystery that is helped along by the various characters, not least Ariadne Oliver - the fictional crime writer in this series.
Her quips of poor adaptations of her works and the struggles of writing a foreign detective is clearly from Christie herself.
Not the strongest Poirot, but still a whole lot of fun.
The fact that this is the 30th Poirot book seems to be noticed as the Belgium detective reminisces of his time with Hastings while a returing character adds much fun to the second half of the novel.
Yet again Christie spings an interesting hook as Poirot is informed by Superintendent Spence of his suspicions that convicted James Bentley might not be the real culprit of Mrs Mcgintys death, with days before his execution time is ticking for his name to be cleared.
It soon becomes apparent that the true motive is much more than the £30 that was stolen.
It's a fascinating mystery that is helped along by the various characters, not least Ariadne Oliver - the fictional crime writer in this series.
Her quips of poor adaptations of her works and the struggles of writing a foreign detective is clearly from Christie herself.
Not the strongest Poirot, but still a whole lot of fun.
January 2, 2021
Mrs. McGinty's dead. How did she die?
Sticking her neck out, just like I."
“Had Mrs. McGinty a drab life?” (Poirot)
“Ghastly, I expect,” said Mrs. Summerhayes vaguely. “Always on your knees scrubbing. And then piles of other people’s washing-up waiting for you on the sink when you arrive in the morning. If I had to face that every day, I’d be positively relieved to be murdered. I really would.”
After 2-3 books of literary pretension (Hercules Poirot as Hercules, on a quest for detective greatness!), Christie lightens up a bit and tries to get silly again about the vain Poirot, with an array of supporting comical characters, some of them—and this is pretty rare, since she typically writes of the upper class—working class women! There are writers of mysteries, and playwrights, that are also targets of satire, but none greater targets than Hercules Poirot, whom Christie has a famous love-hate relationship with in full swing at this point in her career (in 1952, this book was published). In this one, she’s having fun with him, poking fun at his snobbery more than usual, but lightly. Has a P. G. Wodehouse feel to it at times.
In this one James Bentley awaits capital punishment, convicted of killing his landlord, Mrs. McGinty, but Poirot is engaged to find out who really dunnit. The solution involves photographs, a sugar cutter, gender-bending names such as Evelyn and Craig. Maybe my favorite aspect of it is the character Ariadne Oliver, a mystery writer, a kind of caricature of Christie herself:
“Authors were shy, unsociable creatures, atoning for their lack of social aptitude by inventing their own companions and conversations.”
Not my favorite Poirot, but it is still clever.
Sticking her neck out, just like I."
“Had Mrs. McGinty a drab life?” (Poirot)
“Ghastly, I expect,” said Mrs. Summerhayes vaguely. “Always on your knees scrubbing. And then piles of other people’s washing-up waiting for you on the sink when you arrive in the morning. If I had to face that every day, I’d be positively relieved to be murdered. I really would.”
After 2-3 books of literary pretension (Hercules Poirot as Hercules, on a quest for detective greatness!), Christie lightens up a bit and tries to get silly again about the vain Poirot, with an array of supporting comical characters, some of them—and this is pretty rare, since she typically writes of the upper class—working class women! There are writers of mysteries, and playwrights, that are also targets of satire, but none greater targets than Hercules Poirot, whom Christie has a famous love-hate relationship with in full swing at this point in her career (in 1952, this book was published). In this one, she’s having fun with him, poking fun at his snobbery more than usual, but lightly. Has a P. G. Wodehouse feel to it at times.
In this one James Bentley awaits capital punishment, convicted of killing his landlord, Mrs. McGinty, but Poirot is engaged to find out who really dunnit. The solution involves photographs, a sugar cutter, gender-bending names such as Evelyn and Craig. Maybe my favorite aspect of it is the character Ariadne Oliver, a mystery writer, a kind of caricature of Christie herself:
“Authors were shy, unsociable creatures, atoning for their lack of social aptitude by inventing their own companions and conversations.”
Not my favorite Poirot, but it is still clever.
October 22, 2018
I read this book in my mother language (Portuguese). I was loving the story but for me the ending was unconvincing and implausible.
July 20, 2022
My second reading of Mrs McGinty's dead and I enjoyed it as the first time and it helped that I didn't remember the motive and the murderer!
In this book if the Hercule Poirot series the only character I liked was Spence the police officer that brought the case to Poirot's notice!
But I wouldn't be fair not to mention also the couple in which house Poirot stays while investigating the case even though their appearances were brief they were likeable!
As for the case it was interesting and easy to read! I was quite intrigued by the persons that were involved in past crimes and also about which one of the suspects was more likely to have committed the present one!
In this book if the Hercule Poirot series the only character I liked was Spence the police officer that brought the case to Poirot's notice!
But I wouldn't be fair not to mention also the couple in which house Poirot stays while investigating the case even though their appearances were brief they were likeable!
As for the case it was interesting and easy to read! I was quite intrigued by the persons that were involved in past crimes and also about which one of the suspects was more likely to have committed the present one!
November 29, 2022
I think Agatha Christie was in a playful attitude of mind when she wrote this book, as there was quite a bit of humor to enjoy. Additionally, I particularly enjoyed Christie's wry look at the artistic differences between the author Ariadne Oliver and Robin Upwood, the person adapting her book for the stage. It was insightful and interesting to learn about and written very much tongue-in-cheek.
I loved it, especially the effrontery of Robin Upwood in suggesting that they completely reinvent the lead character, whilst also insisting that "the main thing is for you to feel happy about it!"
Subsequently, Ariadne Oliver complains to Hercule Poirot: "Collaboration," she said bitterly, "The whole thing's a nightmare! How would you like to see a big black mustache stuck on to Superintendent Battle and be told it was you?"
Poirot commiserates by stating, "I, too, suffer" and then, responds by sharing his profound disgust at the living and dining experiences in his temporary lodgings, which seemed to verge on the edge of chaos and was certainly disorganized.
Poirot lists in detail all the assaults on sensibilities, "The cooking of Madame Summerhayes is beyond description. It is not cooking at all. And the draughts, the cold winds, the upset stomachs of the cats, the long hairs of the dogs, the broken legs of the chairs, the terrible, terrible bed in which I sleep - he shut his eyes in remembrance of agonies - the tepid water in the bathroom, the holes in the stair carpet and the coffee - words cannot describe to you the fluid which they serve to you as coffee. It is an affront to the stomach!"
As an onlooker, I have the privilege of being highly amused by these descriptions. I think it was the absolute contrast between Poirot and his host that made it so enjoyable and knowing this is fiction.
This is one of my favorite volumes in the series so far.
Additional notable quote that caught my fancy:
"Sadly, Mrs Oliver ran her hands through her windswept grey hair causing it to look as though not swept by wind but a tornado."
I loved it, especially the effrontery of Robin Upwood in suggesting that they completely reinvent the lead character, whilst also insisting that "the main thing is for you to feel happy about it!"
Subsequently, Ariadne Oliver complains to Hercule Poirot: "Collaboration," she said bitterly, "The whole thing's a nightmare! How would you like to see a big black mustache stuck on to Superintendent Battle and be told it was you?"
Poirot commiserates by stating, "I, too, suffer" and then, responds by sharing his profound disgust at the living and dining experiences in his temporary lodgings, which seemed to verge on the edge of chaos and was certainly disorganized.
Poirot lists in detail all the assaults on sensibilities, "The cooking of Madame Summerhayes is beyond description. It is not cooking at all. And the draughts, the cold winds, the upset stomachs of the cats, the long hairs of the dogs, the broken legs of the chairs, the terrible, terrible bed in which I sleep - he shut his eyes in remembrance of agonies - the tepid water in the bathroom, the holes in the stair carpet and the coffee - words cannot describe to you the fluid which they serve to you as coffee. It is an affront to the stomach!"
As an onlooker, I have the privilege of being highly amused by these descriptions. I think it was the absolute contrast between Poirot and his host that made it so enjoyable and knowing this is fiction.
This is one of my favorite volumes in the series so far.
Additional notable quote that caught my fancy:
"Sadly, Mrs Oliver ran her hands through her windswept grey hair causing it to look as though not swept by wind but a tornado."
December 12, 2021
After the disappointment that I met with the earlier two reads of this series, I was a little apprehensive of this read. But I'm glad to have continued with the series, for I found this one to be pretty interesting. It is not the best of mysteries, certainly not a good one by Agatha Christie. Nevertheless, it was an interesting read.
The story is full of Poirot. Perhaps that is the reason why this installment was interesting to me. His queer manner, the uncompromising ego was not shown better before. The story begins straight with Poirot been consulted for the case of the murder of Mrs. McGinty. So from the first chapter, we see our eccentric little friend bustling around. This was a positive contribution to holding my interest.
The story is alright. But by Agatha Christie's standard, I should say it is average. The ending was a bit far-fetched. Perhaps, it was because the clues revealing the culprit was very subtle that I missed the crucial ones till Poirot's explanation revealed them to me, or it was a deliberate attempt on the part of Christie. No matter, I wasn't much impressed with that end. But all in all, I enjoyed the read. And I'm happy to have my interest in the series renewed.
The story is full of Poirot. Perhaps that is the reason why this installment was interesting to me. His queer manner, the uncompromising ego was not shown better before. The story begins straight with Poirot been consulted for the case of the murder of Mrs. McGinty. So from the first chapter, we see our eccentric little friend bustling around. This was a positive contribution to holding my interest.
The story is alright. But by Agatha Christie's standard, I should say it is average. The ending was a bit far-fetched. Perhaps, it was because the clues revealing the culprit was very subtle that I missed the crucial ones till Poirot's explanation revealed them to me, or it was a deliberate attempt on the part of Christie. No matter, I wasn't much impressed with that end. But all in all, I enjoyed the read. And I'm happy to have my interest in the series renewed.
January 9, 2019
As always, Christie comes through with a great mystery with the mind of Poirot. Excellent reading
March 19, 2024
I really enjoyed this one. Any of the Christies that have Ariadne Oliver in them are a bonus for me. She's so funny. She says exactly what she thinks regardless of how it may be received.
The mystery was very well done. I had seen the tv series so knew who the murderer was but I wouldn't have guessed it from the book. Mrs Summerhayes was also an excellent character. I could see her dashing here, there and everywhere without achieving anything.
Poor Poiret suffered a lot while staying at her house.
A very entertaining read.
The mystery was very well done. I had seen the tv series so knew who the murderer was but I wouldn't have guessed it from the book. Mrs Summerhayes was also an excellent character. I could see her dashing here, there and everywhere without achieving anything.
Poor Poiret suffered a lot while staying at her house.
A very entertaining read.
April 5, 2017
"Mrs. McGinty's dead. How did she die?
Sticking her neck out, just like I."
Dame Agatha's penchant to use children's rhymes as an underlying theme for mysteries, enhancing the creepy aspect of many of them, coming to the fore once again. (Really, I hope someone would do a monograph on this quirky aspect of her novels one day.)
Mrs. McGinty was a charwoman - at the beginning of the story, she is dead, bludgeoned to death apparently by her lodger who has been convicted of the crime. But Superintendent Spence who is investigating the case thinks otherwise, even though the circumstantial evidence is substantial: and seeks the help of none other than Hercule Poirot.
As Poirot investigates, it becomes evident that matters are not as simple as one thinks it is. It seems that Mrs. McGinty "stuck her neck out" and got it cut off...
---------------------------------
This was one of the most humorous books from Christie: the tone resembled that of Wodehouse at times. Poirot's experience in the horrible boarding house run by the Summerhayes, especially being forced to eat raspberries with mould on them and beans which have been bloodstained from his hostess's cut finger, was hilarious. So also Superintendent Spence's exasperation at Poirot's close-mouthed nature and cryptic remarks. I still remember once sentence which doubled me up. At the darkest hour in the investigation, when Spence remarks that the case is puzzling him to death, the Belgian sleuth says: "Ah, mon ami, it is simple, is it not?" Dame Agatha writes:
Not one of Agatha Christie's best, but worth a read.
Sticking her neck out, just like I."
Dame Agatha's penchant to use children's rhymes as an underlying theme for mysteries, enhancing the creepy aspect of many of them, coming to the fore once again. (Really, I hope someone would do a monograph on this quirky aspect of her novels one day.)
Mrs. McGinty was a charwoman - at the beginning of the story, she is dead, bludgeoned to death apparently by her lodger who has been convicted of the crime. But Superintendent Spence who is investigating the case thinks otherwise, even though the circumstantial evidence is substantial: and seeks the help of none other than Hercule Poirot.
As Poirot investigates, it becomes evident that matters are not as simple as one thinks it is. It seems that Mrs. McGinty "stuck her neck out" and got it cut off...
---------------------------------
This was one of the most humorous books from Christie: the tone resembled that of Wodehouse at times. Poirot's experience in the horrible boarding house run by the Summerhayes, especially being forced to eat raspberries with mould on them and beans which have been bloodstained from his hostess's cut finger, was hilarious. So also Superintendent Spence's exasperation at Poirot's close-mouthed nature and cryptic remarks. I still remember once sentence which doubled me up. At the darkest hour in the investigation, when Spence remarks that the case is puzzling him to death, the Belgian sleuth says: "Ah, mon ami, it is simple, is it not?" Dame Agatha writes:
After that remark there was nearly a third murder - the murder of Hercule Poirot by Superintendent Spence in Kilchester Police Headquarters.
Not one of Agatha Christie's best, but worth a read.
December 7, 2021
This was a fun read to start the year. Once more we are faced with a puzzling murder. Was the man arrested and charged the murderer, or was he framed? The latter of course, which brings our favourite mustachioed Belgian detective to the scene. As you expect, Agatha offers us plenty of red herrings...
However, the reason I enjoyed this novel was for the whole comic angle the author added. Our poor Poirot has to suffer by staying in accommodations that are less than suitable, with nothing that could be called food. How he suffers, to our delight :0) If this wasn’t enough, Ariadne makes an entrance with her apples of course, and views. Do I have to say that I love that character!? In this instance, Christie has a field day, using Ariadne as her spokesperson, voicing her feelings about being an author, about adaptations, and most telling, about her creation:
“How do I know why I ever thought of the revolting man? I must have been mad! Why a Finn when I know nothing about Finland? Why a vegetarian? Why all the idiotic mannerisms he’s got? These things just happen. You try something – and people seem to like it – and then you go on – and before you know where you are, you’ve got someone like that maddening Sven Hjerson.”
Priceless! :0)
P.S. I shall be reading Christie’s autobiography next month and look forward to finding more about her views on Poirot. Well... On everything, really :0)
However, the reason I enjoyed this novel was for the whole comic angle the author added. Our poor Poirot has to suffer by staying in accommodations that are less than suitable, with nothing that could be called food. How he suffers, to our delight :0) If this wasn’t enough, Ariadne makes an entrance with her apples of course, and views. Do I have to say that I love that character!? In this instance, Christie has a field day, using Ariadne as her spokesperson, voicing her feelings about being an author, about adaptations, and most telling, about her creation:
“How do I know why I ever thought of the revolting man? I must have been mad! Why a Finn when I know nothing about Finland? Why a vegetarian? Why all the idiotic mannerisms he’s got? These things just happen. You try something – and people seem to like it – and then you go on – and before you know where you are, you’ve got someone like that maddening Sven Hjerson.”
Priceless! :0)
P.S. I shall be reading Christie’s autobiography next month and look forward to finding more about her views on Poirot. Well... On everything, really :0)
January 7, 2018
Fussy. Fastidious. Vain. Brilliant. Poirot's back, but is a little bored, and spends his time carefully considering his meals. And then Superintendent Spence discusses a case with Poirot of a man who was convicted for bashing his landlady on the head. Spence isn't comfortable with the verdict, and gets Poirot to revisit the case for him. Poirot goes to the town of the murder and must stay in a dreadful bed & breakfast, while interviewing the neighbours and generally getting people agitated about the situation. And wonderful Ariadne Oliver shows up in the same town to work with a local playwright to dramatize one of her books and totally misrepresent her story's detective (Christie must have been griping through Ariadne about Poirot). I found this story enjoyable and with Ariadne's presence funnier than some of the other Poirot stories.
May 7, 2023
Me ha gustado, me ha tenido completamente engañado, en fin lo de siempre con adivinar al culpable...
En este caso había muchos sospechos@s y yo dando palos de ciego, parecía que si había indicios de mi sospechosa pero al final todos al traste.
La aparición de Ariadne Oliver ha sido secundaria, aquí el prota ha sido claramente Poirot.
Valoración: 7/10
Sinopsis: La señora McGinty aparece asesinada. James Bentley, su inquilino, es acusado del crimen y condenado a la horca, pero el superintendente Spence de Scotland Yard no cree que sea el verdadero culpable y, para demostrarlo, pide ayuda a Hércules Poirot. El detective belga conseguirá desentrañar una verdad que las pistas más superficiales habían ocultado.
En este caso había muchos sospechos@s y yo dando palos de ciego, parecía que si había indicios de mi sospechosa pero al final todos al traste.
La aparición de Ariadne Oliver ha sido secundaria, aquí el prota ha sido claramente Poirot.
Valoración: 7/10
Sinopsis: La señora McGinty aparece asesinada. James Bentley, su inquilino, es acusado del crimen y condenado a la horca, pero el superintendente Spence de Scotland Yard no cree que sea el verdadero culpable y, para demostrarlo, pide ayuda a Hércules Poirot. El detective belga conseguirá desentrañar una verdad que las pistas más superficiales habían ocultado.
December 12, 2021
“You do like to make it difficult, don’t you, M. Poirot?” he said.
― Agatha Christie, Mrs. McGinty's Dead
This was the very first Hercule Poirot novel that I read as a boy and I still enjoy going back and rereadig it on occasion. It is one of the better stories. Some wit tossed in with a whodunit. Poirot's vanity on full display.
Poirot has just finished a rather satisfactory meal at a restaurant and is reflecting sadly on how there are only three meals in a day. When he arrives home he finds an old friend, Superintendent Spence, has come to visit. A charwoman, Mrs. McGinty, had been brutally murdered. Struck over the head in her home, her savings which she kept under a floorboard stolen. Her lodger, James Bentley, had been arrested, tried and convicted. He is now awaiting execution. Spence, who had been in charge of the investigation, is not convinced that Bentley is the murderer. After laying out the facts of the case Poirot agrees to go to the village of Broadhinny and open his own investigation. His “little grey cells” could use the exercise.
Broadhinny may be a small village but it has lots of secrets. Poirot finds that McGinty had clipped an article out of a newspaper and bought a bottle of ink two days before she was murdered. The article was about four woman who were connected to murders decades ago and was accompanied with photographs. Did Mrs. McGinty recognize one of the woman? Poirot starts showing the photographs around Broadhinny and soon after there is another murder. Clearly there is a connection between the photographs and the murders. But which photograph?
This is one of the Hercule Poirot stories featuring Ariadne Oliver, an author of mysteries whose main character is a 60-something eccentric Finnish expatriate detective named Sven Hjerson. Mrs. Oliver is tired of her creation but her fans like him and she is stuck with him. The character of Mrs. Oliver is clearly based on Agatha Christie herself.
Overall a very enjoyable whodunit where you get to match wits with Hercule Poirot and try to identify the real murderer.
― Agatha Christie, Mrs. McGinty's Dead
This was the very first Hercule Poirot novel that I read as a boy and I still enjoy going back and rereadig it on occasion. It is one of the better stories. Some wit tossed in with a whodunit. Poirot's vanity on full display.
Poirot has just finished a rather satisfactory meal at a restaurant and is reflecting sadly on how there are only three meals in a day. When he arrives home he finds an old friend, Superintendent Spence, has come to visit. A charwoman, Mrs. McGinty, had been brutally murdered. Struck over the head in her home, her savings which she kept under a floorboard stolen. Her lodger, James Bentley, had been arrested, tried and convicted. He is now awaiting execution. Spence, who had been in charge of the investigation, is not convinced that Bentley is the murderer. After laying out the facts of the case Poirot agrees to go to the village of Broadhinny and open his own investigation. His “little grey cells” could use the exercise.
Broadhinny may be a small village but it has lots of secrets. Poirot finds that McGinty had clipped an article out of a newspaper and bought a bottle of ink two days before she was murdered. The article was about four woman who were connected to murders decades ago and was accompanied with photographs. Did Mrs. McGinty recognize one of the woman? Poirot starts showing the photographs around Broadhinny and soon after there is another murder. Clearly there is a connection between the photographs and the murders. But which photograph?
This is one of the Hercule Poirot stories featuring Ariadne Oliver, an author of mysteries whose main character is a 60-something eccentric Finnish expatriate detective named Sven Hjerson. Mrs. Oliver is tired of her creation but her fans like him and she is stuck with him. The character of Mrs. Oliver is clearly based on Agatha Christie herself.
Overall a very enjoyable whodunit where you get to match wits with Hercule Poirot and try to identify the real murderer.
February 12, 2021
“'The truth is I’m not very good with people.'
'I adore people, don’t you?' said Robin happily.
'No,' said Mrs. Oliver firmly.”
Mrs. McGinty's Dead is, as far as I can tell, a unique product of Christie's prolific mind. To begin with, it's unusually funny and ironic, far more (good-naturedly) mocking toward the Adorable Egg-Head than I would have expected from the book that initiates the final phase of his career. Secondly, in a few occasions it offers delicious examples of meta-talk between Christie and the readers through the character of our dear old Ariadne Oliver, to whom it isn't granted enough screen-time to be called a proper sidekick, but who nonetheless is charismatic enough to pull her weight beautifully, again with no small amount of humour.
The mystery, in truth, didn't particularly impress me, though the solution really was unexpected. I guess I don't exactly love when big facts necessary to find the culprit are revealed only during the dénouement (), but it's a narrative choice like any other, after all. It happens.
'I adore people, don’t you?' said Robin happily.
'No,' said Mrs. Oliver firmly.”
Mrs. McGinty's Dead is, as far as I can tell, a unique product of Christie's prolific mind. To begin with, it's unusually funny and ironic, far more (good-naturedly) mocking toward the Adorable Egg-Head than I would have expected from the book that initiates the final phase of his career. Secondly, in a few occasions it offers delicious examples of meta-talk between Christie and the readers through the character of our dear old Ariadne Oliver, to whom it isn't granted enough screen-time to be called a proper sidekick, but who nonetheless is charismatic enough to pull her weight beautifully, again with no small amount of humour.
The mystery, in truth, didn't particularly impress me, though the solution really was unexpected. I guess I don't exactly love when big facts necessary to find the culprit are revealed only during the dénouement (), but it's a narrative choice like any other, after all. It happens.
September 18, 2021
What a superb and clever storyline!
I had the double pleasure of re-reading this book while simultaneously listening to the audiobook narrated by Hugh Fraser (Captain Hastings of Poirot TV series), who did a terrific job.
I first read this book during my teens and it was an edition translated into Portuguese, and I confess that I have forgotten about the story, so it felt as my first time. It was like finding a hidden treasure.
The writing is so good!
Here we have Poirot at his best.
There is also a participation of Ariadne Oliver, a character that has appeared in 7 different books (including this one).
As for the ending, of course I had no clue. What a twist!
PS. I am grateful for recently reading “Horrid”, by Katrina Leo, because in it there are plenty references of Christie’s books and this one was the main character’s favourite. It triggered my love for Dame Christie and I hope that it will also motivate the young readers to discover Agatha Christie.
I had the double pleasure of re-reading this book while simultaneously listening to the audiobook narrated by Hugh Fraser (Captain Hastings of Poirot TV series), who did a terrific job.
I first read this book during my teens and it was an edition translated into Portuguese, and I confess that I have forgotten about the story, so it felt as my first time. It was like finding a hidden treasure.
The writing is so good!
Here we have Poirot at his best.
There is also a participation of Ariadne Oliver, a character that has appeared in 7 different books (including this one).
As for the ending, of course I had no clue. What a twist!
PS. I am grateful for recently reading “Horrid”, by Katrina Leo, because in it there are plenty references of Christie’s books and this one was the main character’s favourite. It triggered my love for Dame Christie and I hope that it will also motivate the young readers to discover Agatha Christie.
April 15, 2024
“ What I think does not matter, I must know.” So says Hercule Poirot.
I have been listening to quite a few Agatha Christie novels over the past year. They are a perfect listen,in my opinion, as they are easy to fall into and easy to keep up with.
I found this one to be one of her more ingenious mysteries. Mrs McGinty is dead and James Bentley has been found guilty. Inspector Spence does not feel that James is guilty, despite being the one who collected the evidence. He asks Poirot to investigate on his behalf. But time is of the essence- James Bentley is to be hung in 3 weeks.
There were so many interesting twists and turns and that ending- never saw that one coming! This is definitely one of her bests!
Audio was read by Hugh Fraser- as always, he did a superb job!
Published: 1952
I have been listening to quite a few Agatha Christie novels over the past year. They are a perfect listen,in my opinion, as they are easy to fall into and easy to keep up with.
I found this one to be one of her more ingenious mysteries. Mrs McGinty is dead and James Bentley has been found guilty. Inspector Spence does not feel that James is guilty, despite being the one who collected the evidence. He asks Poirot to investigate on his behalf. But time is of the essence- James Bentley is to be hung in 3 weeks.
There were so many interesting twists and turns and that ending- never saw that one coming! This is definitely one of her bests!
Audio was read by Hugh Fraser- as always, he did a superb job!
Published: 1952
October 16, 2022
How did Mrs McGinty did? She stuck her neck out just like I. So went the schoolyard chant known by generations of English children. When an actual Mrs McGinty died, a Superintend Spence believed he convicted the wrong person so he enlisted the services of the one and only Hercule Poirot to discover whodunit. Using his little gray cells, of course Poirot is steps ahead of the would be detectives who thought they knew who killed Mrs McGinty. One of these days my own gray cells might actually figure out the culprit before Poirot (or Miss Marple or Colonel Race). That is what makes Agatha Christie the Queen of crime and why I return to her time after time for my palette cleansing and gray cell stimulation.
4 stars 🕵️♂️
4 stars 🕵️♂️
June 12, 2019
It's Agatha Christie, and it's wonderful like always. Great story, beautifully written, with superb characters and the irresistible and quirky Hercule Poirot. Such a joy.
July 21, 2020
اصلا فکر نمیکردم با توجه به اسمش که واقعا کلیشه ای و بدون خلاقیته اینقدر داستان خوبی باشه
در واقع در مقیاس داستان های آگاتا کریستی جز بهترین ها بود
در واقع در مقیاس داستان های آگاتا کریستی جز بهترین ها بود
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