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.

The Literary Critical Detective on Trains

My work as the Literary Critical Detective normally requires me to sit patiently and quietly, here, in the study, surrounded by my scribbled notes, the amber glow of my lamp and the smell of old books. However, over the last two weeks I have been forced to leave my room and travel. More specifically, I have had to take the train. I have spent days dashing across concourses to make connections – an act in which I have taken a curious kind of pleasure, and which I have interpreted as simply another version of the Literary Critical Detective’s work.

I made use of the time to read. Despite the purposefulness of my journeys these trips have actually taken me away from my planned reading trajectory. I sat and read Virginia Woolf’s masterful novel Mrs Dalloway, a text that is itself more concerned with planes and omnibuses than trains.

Françoise has insisted that such journeys are pointless. She begrudgingly waved me off one morning whilst muttering about the number of books that I already owned and the impossibility of needing any new materials.

For my part, I have always enjoyed train travel. In an instant I feel like all those literary characters. Remember that Conan Doyle’s Holmes and Watson are always jumping onto trains and heading out of London at a moment’s notice. 

And so I have begun to think about the best ‘train’ scenes in literature. Here are some of my favourites. What are your favourite ‘train’ scenes or novels? (Comments below are welcome).

1. Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina – this novel begins and ends with wonderfully moving train scenes.

2. Marcel Proust, Sodome et Gomorrhe – in this novel Mme Verdurin’s social circle travel by train to her house for the summer season. Here, the train carriage itself becomes a salon on rails.

3. Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express – a wonderful mystery whose action and detection works its way through private carriages and public cars alike.