A Blog Post a Day: A Project for June

It is so hard to think clearly, with subtlety and deftness. It is even harder to articulate one’s thoughts in a nuanced manner.

When I’m working on a new literary critical case it sometimes seems as if the books that line my study walls are leering down at me like so many grotesques, mocking me and my meek efforts. The more I try to think, the more the thoughts form an impenetrable fog in my mind, a fog that gets everywhere, even in this muggy, muddy English summer.

In order to extricate myself from these difficulties I have made a rash decision. Yesterday evening, having posted my review of Agatha Christie’s ‘The Big Four’, I promised myself that I would update this online journal everyday until the end of the month – and possibly even beyond.

I hope that by setting myself the task of writing something new on a regular basis I will disperse the critical and creative torpor that hangs over me and, it would seem, this whole building. Moreover, I hope that I will instigate a new practice of writing.

I bumped into Thistleton yesterday. He expressed some kind thoughts about the project, although he doubted the possibility of engineering creative insight through practice.

I would really appreciate it if you, dear Reader, were able to support me in my endeavour by following this blog (click the button on the right) and by checking in each day to see what I’ve written.

à demain…

On reading and not reading an Agatha Christie novel

I have recently finished reading Agatha Christie’s The Big Four – one of the early Poirot novels (it is actually the fifth book in the sequence).

It is easy to devour The Dame’s murder mysteries in one or two sittings: on a Sunday afternoon, perhaps or, as is more likely in my case, shut up in the peace of my book-lined study. The prose is simple enough and the plots well-constructed enough that you can read them very quickly.

My reading of The Big Four was slightly different. Instead of reading it at home I worked my way through the text in that most Christie-like of locations: the train. The book accompanied me on a series of research trips that I recently took by rail.

And what a delight it was. The sun streamed in through the carriage windows and, as we sped past, the countryside seemed to unfurl itself before us. The book itself was great fun. It is an intriguing, entertaining and occasionally absurd novel. What is more, the characters are placed in serious jeopardy on a number of occasions, which is actually quite unusual for a Poirot novel.

The nature of my rail journeys meant that I was forced to read The Big Four in several sittings. I was able to mark off the chapters by the stations at which we stopped.

Strange to say, though, that whilst I enjoyed reading the novel immensely, I was actually a little reluctant to pick the text up at the beginning of each of new trip. Having put the book down I felt no compulsion to pick it up again. This despite the desire to know what would happen, to learn how it would turn out, and to discover how Captain Hastings would extricate himself from his latest scrape. And I ask myself: Why?

One obvious and well documented fact is that, outside of the main detective characters, the participants in murder mystery novels are only functions of the plot, counters moved around in a board game of motives. As a reader I hadn’t invested in the development of the characters’ story arcs.

Then there is the fact that The Big Four reads like a series of short stories. It is very episodic – perfect for reading between railway stations but not conducive to sustained reading over a long stretch of time. It is also a surprising book. It is a novel that reads more like a spy thriller than a classic country house whodunit in the typical Christie mould. It is a book that defeats generic expectations.

In the end, it was worth reading to the end of The Big Four. And if you expect to travel by train anytime soon I would heartily recommend it as your travel novel.