It has been more than two years since the last post for Mystery Monday — a series I introduced in 2019 with a post about the delicious Nero Wolfe books by Rex Stout [see Nero and Archie]. Posts since have explored my other favorite genre: murder mysteries.
The gap is due to [A] reading much more SF than mysteries these last two years and [2] my mystery reading was mostly of two authors I’ve already covered: Dame Agatha Christie and Patricia Wentworth (the latter only in passing).
Now, circle closing, I’m back to reading the Nero Wolfe books again.
As well as re-reading a lot of Christie (for the umpteenth time in a few cases) because I’ve been working through the two British ITV series Agatha Christie’s Poirot (1989-2013) and Agatha Christie’s Marple (2004-2013).
I’ve seen a handful of the Poirot series, the first few seasons were on Amazon, as I recall. The series comprises thirteen seasons. It stars David Suchet as Hercule Poirot. I think he’s one of the best actors who’ve performed the role, and that seems a common opinion among fans.
The first three seasons, along with season five, adapt (most of) Christie’s Poirot short stories. These four have about ten episodes per season. The other seasons adapt (again, most of) the novels. The seasons have four episodes each (S4 has three; S13 has five), but each is 90 minutes long.
The Marple series is new to me. I wasn’t a Miss Marple fan when I was younger, but when I rediscovered Christie back in 2020 [see Agatha Christie], I gave them a try (along with various other not-Poirot books I’d ignored) and found I enjoyed them almost as much as the Poirot stories (which are still my favorites among her work). Geraldine McEwan plays the titular character in the first three seasons; Julia McKenzie stepped into the role after McEwan retired.
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As I’ve mentioned before, my mind chooses to not remember details or even plots of books and movies. What’s weird is that, if I do re-read a book or re-watch a movie, I remember it as it goes along, but the plot surprises still catch me by surprise. (“Oh, yeah, that happened.”) It makes murder mysteries fun to re-read because I never remember who dunnit.
I think it’s because, for me, books and movies are almost entirely an escape, a chance to take a trip somewhere. I’m interested in characters and situations and storytelling. And I’ve never been one for puzzles (writing code completely subsumes most of my need for intellectual challenges), so the figuring-out-who-dunnit aspect has never appealed. I generally never even try, though sometimes my undermind hands me a strong guess.
There are exceptions. At the peak of my Star Trek fandom (back when I actually had Star Trek merch), I knew those Original Series episodes forward and backward. I even recorded the broadcast sound of the show on my dad’s reel-to-reel tape recorder so I could listen to the episode over and over again during the week. And I know the Discworld books pretty well after having read them all at least five or six times (and they still would be my “desert island” books if that concept meant anything anymore; see this Substack post).
But generally speaking, my recall of specifics evaporates very quickly. Which I’m fine with; it makes re-reading more enjoyable, a visit to a place I start to remember once I get there again, an old friend not seen in a while.
Which is why I love this Emerson quote:
“I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.”
Totally nailed it. Exactly. Delicious meals that have all contributed to my autobiographical now, but who remembers the details of meals (except perhaps save for the very extraordinary).
All of which is a digression to contrast with my new approach for watching the Poirot and Marple series. To wit: I’m “cheating”.
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It’s actually kind of a big deal for me; I usually go out of my way to avoid learning about books and movies before I experience them. Yet ironically, I’m not rabid about spoilers for a particular book or movie. I don’t chase them, but it doesn’t upset me if I stumble over one.
Nearly all the mystery books I read don’t particularly challenge the reader. They aren’t deep by most measures. Some are deeper character studies than others, but murder is an ancient human activity, and a strikingly final one, so it’s fairly well-ploughed ground. Indeed, most murder mystery stories proceed according to one of several possible templates (the Sherlock Holmes one, for instance, is very popular). And the older British murder mysteries are famously “cozy” — even new they as familiar as a warm fire and a cup of tea.
Usually, I just enjoy the story, letting it unfold for me as it will. But this time, for each episode, I start with the Wikipedia article to remind myself of the plot and who dunnit.
Then I read the book (or short story) and enjoy knowing the who and how of the murder, which lets me study Christie’s art of red herrings and concealment. And in particular, to see if she really does “play fair” — is it possible to guess the murderer from the clues she presents?
Yes, it is, but it usually takes some skill in creating the backstory from the right clues. (I tend to fall for her red herrings. I don’t recall ever guessing a Christie story.)
I’m enjoying this different perspective of being able to see the murderer hiding in plain sight throughout. It does make the story a bit richer somehow.
It breaks down a little when I finally watch the episode. At that point, I’ve gone through the plot twice in short succession, and adaptations always strip out a lot of the textual detail, so I’ve sometimes found watching the episode not as enjoyable as hoped. Kinda depends on how good the story is, and not every single one was a gem.
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There are also all the issues associated with film or TV adaptations of text. Many of the episodes are relatively faithful to the text but some of them go pretty far off book. Some, at least in my opinion, a bit egregiously so. Not as bad as that loathsome adaptation of The ABC Murders [see A Big Crapfest], but a couple flirted in that direction.
Long-time readers know that, when it comes to adaptations, I usually have few issues with deletions, I’m generally okay with changes (depending), but I often struggle with additions. Adaptations require deletions, so it seems wrong to be adding stuff not in the original text. And those additions rarely (to my eye) are faithful to the author’s intent.
While the Poirot series is sticking to the actual Hercule Poirot stories, the Marple series has adapted a few Christie books Miss Marple isn’t in. For instance, By the Pricking of My Thumbs, which is actually a Tommy and Tuppence story (and they do appear along with Miss Marple). Another example is The Sittaford Mystery, which is a standalone mystery with none of Christie’s usual sleuths.
Overall, I’m enjoying both series. I’m nearly through the Poirot series but just getting started on the Marple ones. I’ve been having a hard time getting the Miss Marple books from the library — very long wait times. She’s apparently very popular. The Poirot books usually also involve wait times, which has made the going slow, but the wait times haven’t been as bad (weeks rather than months).
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Back in 2021, I mentioned Patricia Wentworth:
Before I end I’ll mention in passing I tried a novel by Patricia Wentworth (1877–1961). She wrote the Miss Maud Silver series. Miss Silver is a retired governess turned private detective.
It was not my cup of tea. Very rambling and I didn’t find it engaging. That said, I read one of the last books published when she was getting old. (Christie’s last books weren’t indicative of her writing skill, so I’ll have to try an earlier Wentworth to know.)
I have since started with the first books she wrote and found them cozy. I’ve slowly worked through the series (I’m up to the high 20s), usually while waiting for books on hold at the library to come available.
Miss Silver is something of an analog for Christie’s Miss Marple in being an older woman who solves crimes. But Miss Marple is an amateur who just happens to get sucked into helping the police solve murders (using her small village savvy). Miss Silver, a retired governess, has hung out a shingle as a private investigator and is hired to solve crimes (involving murder). Both are viewed as harmless old ladies, so people often talk freely in front of them.
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I mentioned the Arsène Lupin stories by Maurice Leblanc (1864-1941) in the penultimate post in the Mystery Monday series (until this post made it third). The modern implementations are a lot of fun anime and, most recently, a French live-action series available on Netflix.
As I mentioned in that post, I’ve always had a thing for stories about thieves, and Lupin, along with the British A.J. Raffles by E.W. Hornung (1866-1921), are the original gangsters charming thieves (David Niven played Raffles in the 1939 film adaptation; Cary Grant played a somewhat similar character in Hitchcock’s 1955 To Catch a Thief; and Robert Wagner played the charming Alexander Mundy in the late 1960s TV series It Takes a Thief; I loved them all).
Anyway, I read several more of the Leblanc novels. (The Teeth of the Tiger, The Secret of Sarek, The Woman of Mystery, and The Golden Triangle, for those keeping score at home.) They’re translated from the original French, of course, plus they have all the challenges of reading 100-year-plus-old literature. But I find it interesting to compare literature from then with literature from now. Writing has evolved in interesting ways.
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I read The Night Manager (1993) by John le Carré (1931-2020). Not a murder mystery (though a number of murders happen). It’s essentially a spy story. Or more correctly, an espionage story involving trying to take down a major arms dealer.
It was made into a same-named successful TV series starring Tom Hiddleston as the espionage agent undercover trying to help the British take down Hugh Laurie (in a deliciously evil role).
Season one, which was released in 2016, covers the book and is fairly faithful to it. I have no complaints with the adaptation. It was so successful, getting both popular and critical acclaim, the BBC did a second season in 2026 that continues the story beyond the book.
I had trepidations about the second series. Seemed likely a money grab, but I enjoyed it almost as much as the first season. I recommend both the TV series and the original book.
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Speaking of excellent writing, got a few more Elmore Leonard books under my belt: Tishomingo Blues, Killshot, and Stick. The first is reportedly Leonard’s favorite of the ones he read. I can see why; it’s prime Leonard.
One of these days I want to compare Elmore Leonard, Philip K. Dick, and Stephen King to see which has had the most novels adapted to film. All three have a lot.
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Stay mysterious, my friends! Go forth and spread beauty and light.
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Logos con carne 
And what do you think?