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Evadne Mount #1
Mord auf ffolkes Manor
Ein verschneites Herrenhaus am Rande von Dartmoor im Jahre 1935: Colonel Roger ffolkes gibt ein Abendessen für Freunde des Hauses. Was keiner zu wissen scheint: Oben im Dachgeschoss liegt eine Leiche mit einem Einschussloch im Herzen. Es ist Mord. Der Raum ist von innen verschlossen. Und jeder der Anwesenden hat ein Motiv.
298 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
6 people are currently reading
495 people want to read
About the author
Gilbert Adair
43 books158 followersGilbert Adair was a Scottish novelist, poet, film critic and journalist. Born in Edinburgh, he lived in Paris from 1968 through 1980. He is most famous for such novels as Love and Death on Long Island (1997) and The Dreamers (2003), both of which were made into films, although he is also noted as the translator of Georges Perec's postmodern novel A Void, in which the letter e is not used. Adair won the 1995 Scott Moncrieff Translation Prize for this work.
In 1998 and 1999 Adair was the chief film critic for The Independent on Sunday, where in 1999 he also wrote a year-long column called "The Guillotine." In addition to the films made from his own works, Adair worked on the screenplays for a number of Raúl Ruiz films. Although he rarely spoke of his sexual orientation in public, not wishing to be labelled, he acknowledge in an interview that there were many gay themes in his work. He died from a brain hemorrhage in 2011.
(source: Wikipedia)
In 1998 and 1999 Adair was the chief film critic for The Independent on Sunday, where in 1999 he also wrote a year-long column called "The Guillotine." In addition to the films made from his own works, Adair worked on the screenplays for a number of Raúl Ruiz films. Although he rarely spoke of his sexual orientation in public, not wishing to be labelled, he acknowledge in an interview that there were many gay themes in his work. He died from a brain hemorrhage in 2011.
(source: Wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 89 reviews
August 26, 2015
literary author Gilbert Adair constructs a charming bagatelle that riffs on all of the tropes and standbys of classic murder mysteries written by Agatha Christie et al. we have the Colonel and the Vicar and the Country Doctor and their various wives and we have the eccentric Authoress (named Evadne, clearly to honor Christie's own Ariadne Oliver) and the grand-standing Actress and the Plucky, Pretty Young Thing and her beau, the Stalwart Young American. best of all, we have the murder victim, dead before the first page: an incredibly venomous gossip columnist whose nastiness and over-the-top snobbery (seared into his targets' memories and thus recounted to another standby, the Retired Police Inspector) caused me to laugh out loud repeatedly. everything about this vindictive little bitch was, in a word, delicious. Adair adroitly skirts the basic problem of juggling all of his stereotypical characters - namely, that reading about stereotypes is rather a bore - by stuffing his slim tale with heaps of wonderful wit and knowing irony and brief, gleeful bits of inappropriate humor based around race, gender, class, sexual orientation, and whether or not the murder victim "looks Jewish" - humor that happily skewers the characters themselves, including the narrator. I particularly appreciated the throwaway references to Christie's Murder on the Orient Express and The Mousetrap; beyond those and other callbacks, the book was obviously written as an homage to her classic The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. the murder mystery itself is well thought-out and I was surprisingly surprised at the identity of the murderer. although I really shouldn't have been surprised at all - the clues are all there. the whole endeavor is clever, clever, clever, and overall a delightful lark... although in the end I prefer actual classic murder mysteries to murder mystery parodies.
recommended for fans of cozy mysteries who don't mind a smart spoof of their favorite genre. also recommended for snooty literary types who wouldn't dare be seen reading such bourgeois entertainments.
and by the by... have you seen Murder By Death? if you liked that film you will no doubt like this book.
recommended for fans of cozy mysteries who don't mind a smart spoof of their favorite genre. also recommended for snooty literary types who wouldn't dare be seen reading such bourgeois entertainments.
and by the by... have you seen Murder By Death? if you liked that film you will no doubt like this book.
May 7, 2015
"Now," said Evadne Mount in her quiet but implacable way, "I shall ask you all to join me in the library."
"All of us?" asked Gilbert, sardonically lifting an eyebrow.
"That is what I said, Mr. Adair," replied the renowned amateur sleuth.
"But there is only me," said Gilbert.
"Only I," said Evadne with a hint of impatience. "And frankly, how many of you there are is hardly the question. I would like to observe the proprieties, even if you don't."
"But be reasonable!" entreated Gilbert. "How can we have a mystery with only one suspect?"
The rest of this review might be in Verbivoracious Festschrift Volume Three: The Syllabus. Or then, again, it might not be: according to Goodreads policy, I'm not allowed to say. Only one way to find out, you know...
"All of us?" asked Gilbert, sardonically lifting an eyebrow.
"That is what I said, Mr. Adair," replied the renowned amateur sleuth.
"But there is only me," said Gilbert.
"Only I," said Evadne with a hint of impatience. "And frankly, how many of you there are is hardly the question. I would like to observe the proprieties, even if you don't."
"But be reasonable!" entreated Gilbert. "How can we have a mystery with only one suspect?"
The rest of this review might be in Verbivoracious Festschrift Volume Three: The Syllabus. Or then, again, it might not be: according to Goodreads policy, I'm not allowed to say. Only one way to find out, you know...
December 10, 2021
Am primit acest captivant roman politist in ghetute asa cum in fiecare an obisnuiesc sa primesc in aceasta perioada a anului.
Cartea lui Gilbert Adair este un minunat omagiu adus literaturii politiste si maestrei Agatha Christie.
Mister, actiune, crima, mult umor si personaje interesante ce poti sa-ti doresti mai mult de la un policier. Regasim si tematica Craciunului, astfel ca este numai potrivita pentru a fi citita in preajma sarbatorilor de iarna. De asemenea este prima parte din trilogia "Evadne Mount".
In ceea ce priveste actiunea, asa cum se intampla adesea intr-un roman politist, avem adunate laolalta toate personajele cheie. Astfel ca un grup pestrit de invitati sunt chemati sa-si petreaca Craciunul la ffolker Manor (si in original apare cu litera mica). In dimineata de 26 decembrie ei descopera ca Raymond Gentry, editorialistul unui ziar de scandal, pe care toti invitatii il detesta mai mult sau mai putin, este gasit mort.
Crima pare una imposibila, deoarece cadavrul este gasit in mansarda cu usa incuiata si cu fereastra zavorata. Afara e furtuna, telefonul nu functioneaza si este cat se poate de clar ca un ucigas se afla printre ei.
Fostul inspector de la Scotland Yard, Trubshawe, vecinul lor retras, este chemat sa elucideze misterul. Acesta va fi ajutat intr-un mod plin de farmec si inteligenta de scriitoarea de romane politiste Evadne Mount, care intamplarea face sa se afle acolo.
Cititorului ii ramane sa puna cap la cap indiciile si sa afle care dintre personajele tipice romanelor politiste - colonelul, vicarul, scriitoarea, doctorul, actrita sau majordomul este faptasul.
Romanul mi-a placut foarte mult si reprezinta un sablon pentru cum trebuie sa arate un roman politist, ce 'ingrediente' trebuie sa aiba si cat de distractiv si jovial poate fi acest gen literar.
Este foarte important sa mentionez ca cele 4 stele sunt date exclusiv pentru roman si ca traducerea, din punctul meu de vedere, nu se ridica la nivelul cartii. Am considerat ca ar fi nedrept sa sanctionez creatia autorului pentru stangacia traducatorului.
Cred ca in ziua de azi toata lumea stie engleza mai mult sau mai putin, insa, daca te decizi sa traduci carti, atunci trebuie sa te situezi cu o treapta mai sus. Aici ma refer la a recunoaste asa-numitele "idioms':
Am gasit in acest roman expresia "drop it like a hot potato", ce se refera la o problema spinoasa, neconfortabila si care este tradusa mot-a-mot "mi-ai aruncat un cartof fierbinte".
Apoi, la pagina 35, expresia "to have a bun in the oven" care inseamna a fi lasata insarcinata si care a fost tradusa "e deja raspunzator de a fi varat un chec sau doua in niste cuptoare in localitate". Amuzant, dar ma indoiesc ca cititorul va intelege ce trebuie.
La pagina 216, expresia "skeleton in the closet", ce inseamna a avea un secret, este tradusa "in dulapul vietii lui tinere nu exista schelete care sa stea la panda". Poetic, dar nu e ce trebuie.
In schimb, la pagina 14 avem sintagma "ca femeie frumoasa, sunt in stare sa cred chiar si 6 lucruri imposibile inainte de micul dejun". Aici se face trimitere la "six impossible things before breakfast" din "Alice in Tara Minunilor". Traducatorul nu mentioneaza acest lucru intr-o nota de subsol si ma indoiesc ca cititorul isi da seama, astfel ca toata propozitia suna ciudat si aiurea.
In incheiere subliniez ca mi-a placut foarte mult romanul si ca sa termin intr-o nota jucausa atasez un citat care este pe gustul meu:
"Stii, pentru unii, sangele dusmanului este ca vinul de calitate superioara. Trebuie savurat, plimbat pe cerul gurii, toate aiurelile alea de la degustarile de vinuri."
Cartea lui Gilbert Adair este un minunat omagiu adus literaturii politiste si maestrei Agatha Christie.
Mister, actiune, crima, mult umor si personaje interesante ce poti sa-ti doresti mai mult de la un policier. Regasim si tematica Craciunului, astfel ca este numai potrivita pentru a fi citita in preajma sarbatorilor de iarna. De asemenea este prima parte din trilogia "Evadne Mount".
In ceea ce priveste actiunea, asa cum se intampla adesea intr-un roman politist, avem adunate laolalta toate personajele cheie. Astfel ca un grup pestrit de invitati sunt chemati sa-si petreaca Craciunul la ffolker Manor (si in original apare cu litera mica). In dimineata de 26 decembrie ei descopera ca Raymond Gentry, editorialistul unui ziar de scandal, pe care toti invitatii il detesta mai mult sau mai putin, este gasit mort.
Crima pare una imposibila, deoarece cadavrul este gasit in mansarda cu usa incuiata si cu fereastra zavorata. Afara e furtuna, telefonul nu functioneaza si este cat se poate de clar ca un ucigas se afla printre ei.
Fostul inspector de la Scotland Yard, Trubshawe, vecinul lor retras, este chemat sa elucideze misterul. Acesta va fi ajutat intr-un mod plin de farmec si inteligenta de scriitoarea de romane politiste Evadne Mount, care intamplarea face sa se afle acolo.
Cititorului ii ramane sa puna cap la cap indiciile si sa afle care dintre personajele tipice romanelor politiste - colonelul, vicarul, scriitoarea, doctorul, actrita sau majordomul este faptasul.
Romanul mi-a placut foarte mult si reprezinta un sablon pentru cum trebuie sa arate un roman politist, ce 'ingrediente' trebuie sa aiba si cat de distractiv si jovial poate fi acest gen literar.
Este foarte important sa mentionez ca cele 4 stele sunt date exclusiv pentru roman si ca traducerea, din punctul meu de vedere, nu se ridica la nivelul cartii. Am considerat ca ar fi nedrept sa sanctionez creatia autorului pentru stangacia traducatorului.
Cred ca in ziua de azi toata lumea stie engleza mai mult sau mai putin, insa, daca te decizi sa traduci carti, atunci trebuie sa te situezi cu o treapta mai sus. Aici ma refer la a recunoaste asa-numitele "idioms':
Am gasit in acest roman expresia "drop it like a hot potato", ce se refera la o problema spinoasa, neconfortabila si care este tradusa mot-a-mot "mi-ai aruncat un cartof fierbinte".
Apoi, la pagina 35, expresia "to have a bun in the oven" care inseamna a fi lasata insarcinata si care a fost tradusa "e deja raspunzator de a fi varat un chec sau doua in niste cuptoare in localitate". Amuzant, dar ma indoiesc ca cititorul va intelege ce trebuie.
La pagina 216, expresia "skeleton in the closet", ce inseamna a avea un secret, este tradusa "in dulapul vietii lui tinere nu exista schelete care sa stea la panda". Poetic, dar nu e ce trebuie.
In schimb, la pagina 14 avem sintagma "ca femeie frumoasa, sunt in stare sa cred chiar si 6 lucruri imposibile inainte de micul dejun". Aici se face trimitere la "six impossible things before breakfast" din "Alice in Tara Minunilor". Traducatorul nu mentioneaza acest lucru intr-o nota de subsol si ma indoiesc ca cititorul isi da seama, astfel ca toata propozitia suna ciudat si aiurea.
In incheiere subliniez ca mi-a placut foarte mult romanul si ca sa termin intr-o nota jucausa atasez un citat care este pe gustul meu:
"Stii, pentru unii, sangele dusmanului este ca vinul de calitate superioara. Trebuie savurat, plimbat pe cerul gurii, toate aiurelile alea de la degustarile de vinuri."
July 16, 2024
ali smith yazma planları arasında boğulmuşken acil bir polisiye okuma ihtiyacı hasıl oldu. olur öyle tüh yanımda getirmedim derken, son dakkada kütüphanemde bulduğum ama nereden geldiğini bilmediğim bu kitabı getirdiğim geldi aklıma.
gilbert adair pek çok türde roman yazan iskoç yazar. yky pek çok kitabını basmış 2010’lar gibi ama pek tabii şimdi hiçbirinin baskısı yok. klasik. “şenlikli bir cinayet” agatha christie parodisi. zaten romandaki kadın polisiye yazarı evadne mount da habire agatha christie’den iyi olduğunu söyleyerek atıflarını yapıyor.
bu arada kapalı oda cinayeti söz konusu olduğu için john dickens carr’dan (hiç sevmem) tutun da chesterton’un peder brown’larına, conan doyle’un sherlock’una hatta dashiel hammett’e bile geliyor laf. epey eğlenceli bir roman. küçücük kasabada pek çok dedikodu, herkesin sırları, yalanları, seks skandalları derken bizim evadne’nin de lezbiyen olduğu ortaya çıkıyor ki göğsünü gere gere söylüyor zaten. yani ariadne oliver’dan daha cesur bir karakterimiz var.
kitabın orijinal adı bile aslında agatha’ya atıf, üstelik “şenlikli bir cinayet” çok saçma bir ad olmuş bence. neyse yky keşke bassa da bu adla bassa. polisiyelerin yky’de başına gelenler pişmiş tavuğun başına gelmiyor maalesef.
bana kimin verdiğini hatırlamadığım bu kitap tam da polisiye ihtiyacımda yanımdaydı. valla nefis bir denk geliş. üstelik katili önceden doğru tahmin ettim. daha n’olsun.
emrah imre gayet düzgün çevirmiş, kelime oyunlarını güzel kotarmış.
gilbert adair pek çok türde roman yazan iskoç yazar. yky pek çok kitabını basmış 2010’lar gibi ama pek tabii şimdi hiçbirinin baskısı yok. klasik. “şenlikli bir cinayet” agatha christie parodisi. zaten romandaki kadın polisiye yazarı evadne mount da habire agatha christie’den iyi olduğunu söyleyerek atıflarını yapıyor.
bu arada kapalı oda cinayeti söz konusu olduğu için john dickens carr’dan (hiç sevmem) tutun da chesterton’un peder brown’larına, conan doyle’un sherlock’una hatta dashiel hammett’e bile geliyor laf. epey eğlenceli bir roman. küçücük kasabada pek çok dedikodu, herkesin sırları, yalanları, seks skandalları derken bizim evadne’nin de lezbiyen olduğu ortaya çıkıyor ki göğsünü gere gere söylüyor zaten. yani ariadne oliver’dan daha cesur bir karakterimiz var.
kitabın orijinal adı bile aslında agatha’ya atıf, üstelik “şenlikli bir cinayet” çok saçma bir ad olmuş bence. neyse yky keşke bassa da bu adla bassa. polisiyelerin yky’de başına gelenler pişmiş tavuğun başına gelmiyor maalesef.
bana kimin verdiğini hatırlamadığım bu kitap tam da polisiye ihtiyacımda yanımdaydı. valla nefis bir denk geliş. üstelik katili önceden doğru tahmin ettim. daha n’olsun.
emrah imre gayet düzgün çevirmiş, kelime oyunlarını güzel kotarmış.
January 26, 2010
This book is wonderful! Gilbert Adair has somehow managed to poke fun at Agatha Christie and the entire whodunit genre, while at the same time admiring them, and creating a fantastic addition to this same variety of novels. The contrived setting and characters are hilarious, quirky and intelligently crafted; his prose is clever and completely enjoyable to read, particularly in the description of his creations and their various peculiarities: with Evadne Mount, for example, wearing 'shoes so sensible, as they say, you felt like consulting them on whether you should cash in your shares in Amalgamated Copper'. Adair even managed to begin a chapter with 'It was a dark and stormy afternoon', without sounding ridiculous or at all as though he's ridiculing Bulwer-Lytton's 'It was a dark and stormy night'. Or, at least, without losing the conviction that that was exactly what he had intended to do. I can't wait to read the following books in the Evadne Mount Trilogy!
June 12, 2023
The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd parodisi. İngiliz mizahı fanları çok eğlenecektir. Altın Çağ polisiyelerinin hemen hepsine atıfta bulunurken üst sınıf yaşamı da tatlı tatlı iğneliyor. Kitabı sevenler Clue ve Murder by Death’i de izlemeli.
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June 28, 2022If you're annoyed by puzzlebox mysteries that are "too clever by half", you'll despise this, which is one of those fused with a self-aware genre-savvy fourth-wall-leaning novel-as-work-of-literary-criticism that's too clever by much more than half. Pretty perfect for what it is, and extremely "cute". I am boundlessly delighted by these sorts of things and am excessively tempted to give this five stars, which it doesn't especially deserve. Someone who had read more mystery novels than I have would probably have picked up on more cleverness than me. (It even manages to make good on the too-cute punny title in an interesting way, goshdarnit.)
EDIT: Although Nabokov's is the far superior work, of course, I'm afraid this is going to take the same form as my review of Pale Fire, for just as there I let the book's cardsharpery dazzle my eyes at the end and only reflecting on it afterwards did I realize the real, tragic point of the book. What follows will be rot13'd for spoilers:
V snvyrq gb ernyvmr hagvy yngre ersyrpgvba gung gur ragver abiry, qbja gb vgf gvgyr, vf n qbhoyr zvfqverpgvba -- gur svefg zvfqverpgvba vf gung jr ner tvira gur erq ureevat bs Enlzbaq Tragel, jubfr anzr ybbxf yvxr ohg vf abg na nantenz bs "Ebtre Zhetngeblq", naq jr ner yrq gb oryvrir gung uvf zheqre vf gur prageny cbvag bs gur obbx, jura ng gur raq vg vf va snpg erirnyrq gung gur prageny punenpgre vf gur Aneengbe (pncf vagragvbany, ps. gur irevgnoyr rffnl ba nhgubevny ibvpr gung nppbzcnavrf guvf erirny), Sneere. Ohg guvf vf va snpg n qbhoyr srvag -- V oryvrir gung gur obbx ernyyl vf, nsgre nyy, n punenpgre fghql bs Enlzbaq Tragel, naq gung uvf zheqre vf gur prageny snpg, gur "Npg" bs gur gvgyr -- abg gur aneengbevny fhvpvqr vgf chaavat sbez jbhyq vzcyl.
Jung qb jr xabj nobhg Enlzbaq Tragel? Ur vf n Wrj, ur'f ubzbfrkhny, naq ur vf ivpvbhfyl pehry gb gur punenpgref jubfr fgbevrf jr urne. Ur'f n tbffvc pbyhzavfg. Ur vf gur bayl vzcbegnag punenpgre jub qbrf abg nccrne "ba fgntr" -- gur ragver fgehpgher bs gur obbx vf betnavmrq nebhaq uvf nofrapr, guvf ynphan. Gurer vf n fhogyrgl gb gur cvpgher gung vf cnvagrq bs uvz vaqverpgyl -- jvgubhg zrnavat gb, gur fcrnxvat punenpgref iveghnyyl fcryy bhg sbe hf jul ur npgf gur jnl ur qbrf: orpnhfr ur xabjf gung gurl jvyy nyy ungr uvz naljnl. Gur cuenfr "vasrevbevgl pbzcyrk" vf rkcyvpvgyl vaibxrq: ur vf cergragvbhf, ur'f vzcrevbhf, ur'f tbffvcl naq pehry; ur vf, sebz nyy gung jr xabj bs uvz, n trahvaryl hacyrnfnag zna. Ohg ur vf nyfb gur bowrpg bs ovtbgel, naq, jungrire uvf rzcgl cergrafvbaf, n trahvaryl zber fbcuvfgvpngrq naq "oebnq-zvaqrq" crefba guna gur erfg bs gur ubhfrubyq jr rapbhagre. Guvf pbzrf guebhtu zbfg ivivqyl va Fryvan'f qrfpevcgvbaf bs uvz -- gung rira gubhtu ur jnf hacyrnfnag va fbzr jnlf, ur bcrarq hc n ynetre jbeyq sbe ure, vagryyrpghnyyl naq crefbanyyl, guna gur penzcrq, ernpgvbanel fghssvarff bs gur Ratyvfu ubhfrubyq jurer guvf fgbel vf frg. Ur vf n ernpgvba -- na bireernpgvba -- gb gurve zlbcvn naq cerwhqvpr. Fryvan'f riraghny cnvevat jvgu Qba vf qryvirerq nf n pbzvpny fgrc qbja, jvgu uvf cngevnepuny naq fvzcyr-zvaqrq erfgevpgrq jbeyqivrj, fpbyqvat ure sbe guvaxvat vaqrcraqragyl. Fur ynhtuf, ohg jr nf ernqref ner pyrneyl yrsg gb jvfu gung Enlzbaq Tragel jnf fgvyy nyvir, ubjrire anfgl ur jnf.
Fb, jub xvyyrq Enlzbaq Tragel? Va n aneebj frafr, bs pbhefr, vg jnf Ebtre Zhetngeblq. Ohg bar bs gur zbfg (va ergebfcrpg) puvyyvat nfcrpgf bs gur abiry vf gur pninyvre, "tbbq evqqnapr" nggvghqr juvpu nyy bs gur punenpgref gnxr gb Tragel'f qrngu -- rnpu bar erznexf gung gurl jvfu gurl pbhyq unir qbar vg gurzfryirf. Guvf tvirf gur zlfgrel n synibe, abg bs Gur Zheqre bs Ebtre Npxeblq, ohg bs Zheqre ba gur Bevrag Rkcerff (juvpu vf anzr-purpxrq ng bar cbvag, bs pbhefr, ol n uvtuyl creprcgvir freinag). Guvf pbzcyvpvgl vf abg whfg zbeny be fcvevghny: va n frafr vg vf irel yvgreny, orpnhfr Ebtre Zhetngeblq bayl pneevrq bhg gur zheqre orpnhfr vg jnf xabja gb rirelbar gung gurl nyy jrer pncnoyr bs xvyyvat Tragel. Rnpu bs gurve oybbqyhfg gbjneq Tragel urycrq pbagevohgr gb uvf qrzvfr. Va guvf yvtug, Zhetngeblq gnxrf ba gur pnfg bs n fpncrtbng svther, n ybjre-pynff juvccvat obl va jubz gur fvaf bs gur ragver pbzzhavgl ner ybpngrq. Tragel gnxrf ba fbzr sbez bs guvf ebyr gbb, V guvax -- gur qbpgbe'f jvsr'f rapbhagre jvgu uvz va Zbagr Pneyb V gnxr gb or rkgerzryl gryyvat -- va ure vagrecergngvba, ur rffragvnyyl znfgrezvaqrq ure ragver vaqvfpergvba naq gura rkgbegrq ure ol jnl bs birepunetvat, yrnivat ure iveghnyyl oynzryrff, noyr gb fuvsg ure bja thvyg njnl sebz urefrys obgu sbe gur vasvqryvgl naq sbe gur nobegvba, zhpu nf ure uhfonaq qvq sbe gur qrngu ur pnhfrq jvgu uvf obgpurq bcrengvba. Ohg gur aneengvir irel pnershyyl ynlf bhg gung Tragel tnir nofbyhgryl ab vaqvpngvba gung gurer jrer nal pbaqvgvbaf nggnpurq gb uvf bssre, bireg be pbireg -- fur fvzcyl nffhzrq gung gurer jrer. Jnf ur ernyyl rkgbegvat ure gura? Be jnf ur trahvaryl urycvat n fgenatre va arrq? V nffreg gung guvf vf yrsg qryvorengryl nzovthbhf, yrnivat gur dhrfgvba bs Tragel'f shaqnzragny zbeny punenpgre (fhpu nf vg vf) haerfbyirq.
Gur zheqrebhf iratrnapr bs n svanapvnyyl rkcybvgrq yhzcracebyr jub srryf ur'f orra qbar jebat, ntnvafg na hccre-pynff (lrg abg bs gur hccre pynff) Wrj naq ubzbfrkhny, unf qrrc erfbanaprf, rfcrpvnyyl gur vqrn gung guvf zheqrebhf ivbyrapr vf npghnyyl n znavsrfgngvba bs gur cerwhqvprf bs gur "gehr pynff rarzl". Gur erny ivyynva vf gur Pbybary (abgr: n frevny rkcybvgre, pbazna, zheqrere jub znxrf uvzfrys hc jvgu n avpr gvgyr naq n avpr rfgngr; abgr: gur gevcf gb Nsevpn; abgr: gur uhagvat gebcuvrf), ohg nygubhtu na nggrzcg vf znqr ur bs pbhefr fheivirf; vg vf gur zbfg ihyarenoyr jub orne gur oehag bs gur pbasyvpg. Vf Ebtre Zhetngeblq'f gvghyne Npg gur greevoyr pbapyhfvba bs n "cbbe zna'f fbpvnyvfz"? Ur xabjf jub uvf gehr rarzl vf, ohg ur zheqref Tragel svefg orpnhfr vg'f rnfl, orpnhfr vg gheaf gur erfg ntnvafg rnpu bgure, orpnhfr ng yrnfg vg'f fbzrguvat. Gurer vf n pregnva uvfgbevpny erfbanapr gb gur vqrn gung gur "obhetrbvf" zvabevgl vf pyrnayl rkrphgrq va n frnyrq punzore, juvyr gur gehr pynff rarzl vf oehgnyvmrq bhg va gur svryq, ohg hygvzngryl pbzrf guebhtu nyy evtug. Gung gur fgbel vf frg whfg n srj lrnef sebz 1939 znxrf gurfr sbejneq nyyhfvbaf nyy gur zber cbvtanag.
Gur nhguragvpvgl naq flzcngul jvgu juvpu Tragel'f pehrygl, zrnaarff, chssrel, naq vafbyrapr vf jevggra perngrf n qrinfgngvat cbegenvg bs gur cflpubybtvpny rssrpgf bs n irel fcrpvsvp xvaq bs znetvanyvmngvba, jvgu n yriry bs ubarfgl gung vf uneq gb cnve jvgu gur oehgny uvfgbevpny riragf gb juvpu guvf aneengvir irel fhogyl nyyhqrf. Ohg nyy gung znxrf guvf obbx n ybg zber vagrerfgvat guna whfg n qrpbafgehpgvba bs Ntngun Puevfgvr; vg vf ng urneg, jvgu zber be yrff fhogyrgl va qvssrerag cynprf, n jerapuvat nanylfvf bs gur hafcrnxnoyr pehrygvrf bs juvpu gur jbeyq bs gubfr rneyl "pbml zlfgrevrf" jnf ernyyl pncnoyr.
EDIT 2: A few more notes:
Abgr, bs pbhefr, gung Zhetngeblq senzrq Tragel sbe gur npghny guerng bs oynpxznvy -- ol sbetvat gur glcrq abgr. Naq ur tnir uvzfrys njnl orpnhfr, hayvxr gur phygherq, pbfzbcbyvgna, gubebhtuyl Rhebcrna Tragel, Zhetngeblq jnf bs Nzrevpna fgbpx naq pbhyqa'g uryc ohg zvffcryy 'orunivbhe'. Gur ncgyl anzrq Qbanyq Qhpxjbegu, guhttvfu naq guvpx-urnqrq, vf jub Fryvan raqf hc jvgu, orpnhfr ur vf gur bayl lbhat bar yrsg -- gur nygreangvir unf orra rkgrezvangrq. Urapr gur lbhat orpbzr Nzrevpna, gur jebat xvaq bs Nzrevpna, juvpu fbzrubj frrzf zber fhvgnoyr gb gur zheqrere(f), nsgre gur znqzna jub pneevrq bhg gurve qvegl jbex sbe gurz unf bssrq uvzfrys. Gung ynfg, bs pbhefr, vf bayl gur zbfg plavpny ernqvat, naq gurer ner shegure ynlref, vapyhqvat gur snpg gung gurve ivbyrag vzchyfrf ner fgveerq va ynetr cneg orpnhfr bs gurve bja evtvq zbeny flfgrzf juvpu fgvsyr gurz naq cynpr gurz va wrbcneql jura znggref ner bcrayl qvfphffrq. Gur erfrzoynapr bs gur vairfgvtngvba va Gur Npg gb cflpubnanylfvf vf irel gryyvat. Nf vf gur znggre bs Pben naq Rinqar, jub ner obgu va fbzr jnl ercerfragngvir bs gur jbeyq bs phygher gung Tragel ercerfragf, nygubhtu obgu bs "ybj" phygher bs n fbeg, naq gurve zber rnfvyl pbaprnyrq noabeznyvgl yrnirf gurz cvgvyrff sbe Enlzbaq'f. Gurer vf fbzr nzbhag bs YTOG pbzzhavgl vafvqr onfronyy tbvat ba gurer, ohg nyfb, creuncf, n zber trareny pbzzragnel ba erfcrpgnovyvgl. Nsgre nyy, jub pna oynzr gurz?
Naljnl, V'ir tbg gb fgbc. Guvf ernqvat srryf irel sehvgshy ohg V guvax gur cbvag vf znqr.
EDIT: Although Nabokov's is the far superior work, of course, I'm afraid this is going to take the same form as my review of Pale Fire, for just as there I let the book's cardsharpery dazzle my eyes at the end and only reflecting on it afterwards did I realize the real, tragic point of the book. What follows will be rot13'd for spoilers:
V snvyrq gb ernyvmr hagvy yngre ersyrpgvba gung gur ragver abiry, qbja gb vgf gvgyr, vf n qbhoyr zvfqverpgvba -- gur svefg zvfqverpgvba vf gung jr ner tvira gur erq ureevat bs Enlzbaq Tragel, jubfr anzr ybbxf yvxr ohg vf abg na nantenz bs "Ebtre Zhetngeblq", naq jr ner yrq gb oryvrir gung uvf zheqre vf gur prageny cbvag bs gur obbx, jura ng gur raq vg vf va snpg erirnyrq gung gur prageny punenpgre vf gur Aneengbe (pncf vagragvbany, ps. gur irevgnoyr rffnl ba nhgubevny ibvpr gung nppbzcnavrf guvf erirny), Sneere. Ohg guvf vf va snpg n qbhoyr srvag -- V oryvrir gung gur obbx ernyyl vf, nsgre nyy, n punenpgre fghql bs Enlzbaq Tragel, naq gung uvf zheqre vf gur prageny snpg, gur "Npg" bs gur gvgyr -- abg gur aneengbevny fhvpvqr vgf chaavat sbez jbhyq vzcyl.
Jung qb jr xabj nobhg Enlzbaq Tragel? Ur vf n Wrj, ur'f ubzbfrkhny, naq ur vf ivpvbhfyl pehry gb gur punenpgref jubfr fgbevrf jr urne. Ur'f n tbffvc pbyhzavfg. Ur vf gur bayl vzcbegnag punenpgre jub qbrf abg nccrne "ba fgntr" -- gur ragver fgehpgher bs gur obbx vf betnavmrq nebhaq uvf nofrapr, guvf ynphan. Gurer vf n fhogyrgl gb gur cvpgher gung vf cnvagrq bs uvz vaqverpgyl -- jvgubhg zrnavat gb, gur fcrnxvat punenpgref iveghnyyl fcryy bhg sbe hf jul ur npgf gur jnl ur qbrf: orpnhfr ur xabjf gung gurl jvyy nyy ungr uvz naljnl. Gur cuenfr "vasrevbevgl pbzcyrk" vf rkcyvpvgyl vaibxrq: ur vf cergragvbhf, ur'f vzcrevbhf, ur'f tbffvcl naq pehry; ur vf, sebz nyy gung jr xabj bs uvz, n trahvaryl hacyrnfnag zna. Ohg ur vf nyfb gur bowrpg bs ovtbgel, naq, jungrire uvf rzcgl cergrafvbaf, n trahvaryl zber fbcuvfgvpngrq naq "oebnq-zvaqrq" crefba guna gur erfg bs gur ubhfrubyq jr rapbhagre. Guvf pbzrf guebhtu zbfg ivivqyl va Fryvan'f qrfpevcgvbaf bs uvz -- gung rira gubhtu ur jnf hacyrnfnag va fbzr jnlf, ur bcrarq hc n ynetre jbeyq sbe ure, vagryyrpghnyyl naq crefbanyyl, guna gur penzcrq, ernpgvbanel fghssvarff bs gur Ratyvfu ubhfrubyq jurer guvf fgbel vf frg. Ur vf n ernpgvba -- na bireernpgvba -- gb gurve zlbcvn naq cerwhqvpr. Fryvan'f riraghny cnvevat jvgu Qba vf qryvirerq nf n pbzvpny fgrc qbja, jvgu uvf cngevnepuny naq fvzcyr-zvaqrq erfgevpgrq jbeyqivrj, fpbyqvat ure sbe guvaxvat vaqrcraqragyl. Fur ynhtuf, ohg jr nf ernqref ner pyrneyl yrsg gb jvfu gung Enlzbaq Tragel jnf fgvyy nyvir, ubjrire anfgl ur jnf.
Fb, jub xvyyrq Enlzbaq Tragel? Va n aneebj frafr, bs pbhefr, vg jnf Ebtre Zhetngeblq. Ohg bar bs gur zbfg (va ergebfcrpg) puvyyvat nfcrpgf bs gur abiry vf gur pninyvre, "tbbq evqqnapr" nggvghqr juvpu nyy bs gur punenpgref gnxr gb Tragel'f qrngu -- rnpu bar erznexf gung gurl jvfu gurl pbhyq unir qbar vg gurzfryirf. Guvf tvirf gur zlfgrel n synibe, abg bs Gur Zheqre bs Ebtre Npxeblq, ohg bs Zheqre ba gur Bevrag Rkcerff (juvpu vf anzr-purpxrq ng bar cbvag, bs pbhefr, ol n uvtuyl creprcgvir freinag). Guvf pbzcyvpvgl vf abg whfg zbeny be fcvevghny: va n frafr vg vf irel yvgreny, orpnhfr Ebtre Zhetngeblq bayl pneevrq bhg gur zheqre orpnhfr vg jnf xabja gb rirelbar gung gurl nyy jrer pncnoyr bs xvyyvat Tragel. Rnpu bs gurve oybbqyhfg gbjneq Tragel urycrq pbagevohgr gb uvf qrzvfr. Va guvf yvtug, Zhetngeblq gnxrf ba gur pnfg bs n fpncrtbng svther, n ybjre-pynff juvccvat obl va jubz gur fvaf bs gur ragver pbzzhavgl ner ybpngrq. Tragel gnxrf ba fbzr sbez bs guvf ebyr gbb, V guvax -- gur qbpgbe'f jvsr'f rapbhagre jvgu uvz va Zbagr Pneyb V gnxr gb or rkgerzryl gryyvat -- va ure vagrecergngvba, ur rffragvnyyl znfgrezvaqrq ure ragver vaqvfpergvba naq gura rkgbegrq ure ol jnl bs birepunetvat, yrnivat ure iveghnyyl oynzryrff, noyr gb fuvsg ure bja thvyg njnl sebz urefrys obgu sbe gur vasvqryvgl naq sbe gur nobegvba, zhpu nf ure uhfonaq qvq sbe gur qrngu ur pnhfrq jvgu uvf obgpurq bcrengvba. Ohg gur aneengvir irel pnershyyl ynlf bhg gung Tragel tnir nofbyhgryl ab vaqvpngvba gung gurer jrer nal pbaqvgvbaf nggnpurq gb uvf bssre, bireg be pbireg -- fur fvzcyl nffhzrq gung gurer jrer. Jnf ur ernyyl rkgbegvat ure gura? Be jnf ur trahvaryl urycvat n fgenatre va arrq? V nffreg gung guvf vf yrsg qryvorengryl nzovthbhf, yrnivat gur dhrfgvba bs Tragel'f shaqnzragny zbeny punenpgre (fhpu nf vg vf) haerfbyirq.
Gur zheqrebhf iratrnapr bs n svanapvnyyl rkcybvgrq yhzcracebyr jub srryf ur'f orra qbar jebat, ntnvafg na hccre-pynff (lrg abg bs gur hccre pynff) Wrj naq ubzbfrkhny, unf qrrc erfbanaprf, rfcrpvnyyl gur vqrn gung guvf zheqrebhf ivbyrapr vf npghnyyl n znavsrfgngvba bs gur cerwhqvprf bs gur "gehr pynff rarzl". Gur erny ivyynva vf gur Pbybary (abgr: n frevny rkcybvgre, pbazna, zheqrere jub znxrf uvzfrys hc jvgu n avpr gvgyr naq n avpr rfgngr; abgr: gur gevcf gb Nsevpn; abgr: gur uhagvat gebcuvrf), ohg nygubhtu na nggrzcg vf znqr ur bs pbhefr fheivirf; vg vf gur zbfg ihyarenoyr jub orne gur oehag bs gur pbasyvpg. Vf Ebtre Zhetngeblq'f gvghyne Npg gur greevoyr pbapyhfvba bs n "cbbe zna'f fbpvnyvfz"? Ur xabjf jub uvf gehr rarzl vf, ohg ur zheqref Tragel svefg orpnhfr vg'f rnfl, orpnhfr vg gheaf gur erfg ntnvafg rnpu bgure, orpnhfr ng yrnfg vg'f fbzrguvat. Gurer vf n pregnva uvfgbevpny erfbanapr gb gur vqrn gung gur "obhetrbvf" zvabevgl vf pyrnayl rkrphgrq va n frnyrq punzore, juvyr gur gehr pynff rarzl vf oehgnyvmrq bhg va gur svryq, ohg hygvzngryl pbzrf guebhtu nyy evtug. Gung gur fgbel vf frg whfg n srj lrnef sebz 1939 znxrf gurfr sbejneq nyyhfvbaf nyy gur zber cbvtanag.
Gur nhguragvpvgl naq flzcngul jvgu juvpu Tragel'f pehrygl, zrnaarff, chssrel, naq vafbyrapr vf jevggra perngrf n qrinfgngvat cbegenvg bs gur cflpubybtvpny rssrpgf bs n irel fcrpvsvp xvaq bs znetvanyvmngvba, jvgu n yriry bs ubarfgl gung vf uneq gb cnve jvgu gur oehgny uvfgbevpny riragf gb juvpu guvf aneengvir irel fhogyl nyyhqrf. Ohg nyy gung znxrf guvf obbx n ybg zber vagrerfgvat guna whfg n qrpbafgehpgvba bs Ntngun Puevfgvr; vg vf ng urneg, jvgu zber be yrff fhogyrgl va qvssrerag cynprf, n jerapuvat nanylfvf bs gur hafcrnxnoyr pehrygvrf bs juvpu gur jbeyq bs gubfr rneyl "pbml zlfgrevrf" jnf ernyyl pncnoyr.
EDIT 2: A few more notes:
Abgr, bs pbhefr, gung Zhetngeblq senzrq Tragel sbe gur npghny guerng bs oynpxznvy -- ol sbetvat gur glcrq abgr. Naq ur tnir uvzfrys njnl orpnhfr, hayvxr gur phygherq, pbfzbcbyvgna, gubebhtuyl Rhebcrna Tragel, Zhetngeblq jnf bs Nzrevpna fgbpx naq pbhyqa'g uryc ohg zvffcryy 'orunivbhe'. Gur ncgyl anzrq Qbanyq Qhpxjbegu, guhttvfu naq guvpx-urnqrq, vf jub Fryvan raqf hc jvgu, orpnhfr ur vf gur bayl lbhat bar yrsg -- gur nygreangvir unf orra rkgrezvangrq. Urapr gur lbhat orpbzr Nzrevpna, gur jebat xvaq bs Nzrevpna, juvpu fbzrubj frrzf zber fhvgnoyr gb gur zheqrere(f), nsgre gur znqzna jub pneevrq bhg gurve qvegl jbex sbe gurz unf bssrq uvzfrys. Gung ynfg, bs pbhefr, vf bayl gur zbfg plavpny ernqvat, naq gurer ner shegure ynlref, vapyhqvat gur snpg gung gurve ivbyrag vzchyfrf ner fgveerq va ynetr cneg orpnhfr bs gurve bja evtvq zbeny flfgrzf juvpu fgvsyr gurz naq cynpr gurz va wrbcneql jura znggref ner bcrayl qvfphffrq. Gur erfrzoynapr bs gur vairfgvtngvba va Gur Npg gb cflpubnanylfvf vf irel gryyvat. Nf vf gur znggre bs Pben naq Rinqar, jub ner obgu va fbzr jnl ercerfragngvir bs gur jbeyq bs phygher gung Tragel ercerfragf, nygubhtu obgu bs "ybj" phygher bs n fbeg, naq gurve zber rnfvyl pbaprnyrq noabeznyvgl yrnirf gurz cvgvyrff sbe Enlzbaq'f. Gurer vf fbzr nzbhag bs YTOG pbzzhavgl vafvqr onfronyy tbvat ba gurer, ohg nyfb, creuncf, n zber trareny pbzzragnel ba erfcrpgnovyvgl. Nsgre nyy, jub pna oynzr gurz?
Naljnl, V'ir tbg gb fgbc. Guvf ernqvat srryf irel sehvgshy ohg V guvax gur cbvag vf znqr.
June 17, 2017
The book is subtitled "an entertainment", and this is exactly what it is. As usual, Adair is masterful at playing with the recognised tropes of the genre he has decided to tackle (in this case the old fashioned British murder mystery). As usual he also manages to transcend the pastiche element to create an original and highly enjoyable, beautifully written and crafted piece of writing. Adair was a brilliant writer (and if my experience of meeting him once is anything to go by, a terrible flirt). It's a real shame he never got more recognition.
August 29, 2018
This pulls in every hook and device used in whodunits and in such a beautifully tongue-in-cheek manner.
An enjoyable read even with the rather drawn out revelations in The Library (although Gilbert makes a wonderful stab at himself for doing so).
An enjoyable read even with the rather drawn out revelations in The Library (although Gilbert makes a wonderful stab at himself for doing so).
September 3, 2021
A locked room murder with the usual whodunit stuff. Set and written almost a century ago, this book is more suited in studying the moral and historical aspects of the times. Engaging definitely, and that is it....
October 3, 2020
Kao parodija, savršeno radi posao.
Kao krimić, ne baš. Nemojte da očekujete da ćete uopšte moći da pogodite "who done it", jer je razlog nešto iz detinjstva ubice. 🙄
Hvala Stefane na preporuci!
Kao krimić, ne baš. Nemojte da očekujete da ćete uopšte moći da pogodite "who done it", jer je razlog nešto iz detinjstva ubice. 🙄
Hvala Stefane na preporuci!
November 23, 2009
Poor Raymond Gentry. He shows up unexpectedly on Boxing Day with his new girlfriend, and immediately makes himself instantly unpopular with the entire household. Early one morning the poor lad finds himself in the attic, shot through the neck, with the door locked and the key on the inside. The windows are barred and there seems to be no other way in or out of the room. How did Raymond meet his unpleasant end?
Luckily, a retired Chief Inspector lives close by, and one of the guests is no other than mystery writer Evadne Mount who has some ideas of her own as to the method of the crime. She also shares vignettes from her own novels that are quite amusing and makes one realize that the solution will be in her hands.
In the tradition of the great mystery writers, Gilbert Adair creates the perfect "classic" novels, and he pays homage in his writing to some of the greats, including Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, John Dickson Carr and Margery Allingham. If you are a fan of the classic age of mysteries and miss the style, this would be a novel for you.
Evadne Mount will return in two other novels, and hopefully, although this was planned as a trilogy, the writer will give us more. It is truly a joy to find a contemporary writer that can take us back to the twenties and create a wonderful crime novel.
Truly one to be read and savored.
Luckily, a retired Chief Inspector lives close by, and one of the guests is no other than mystery writer Evadne Mount who has some ideas of her own as to the method of the crime. She also shares vignettes from her own novels that are quite amusing and makes one realize that the solution will be in her hands.
In the tradition of the great mystery writers, Gilbert Adair creates the perfect "classic" novels, and he pays homage in his writing to some of the greats, including Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, John Dickson Carr and Margery Allingham. If you are a fan of the classic age of mysteries and miss the style, this would be a novel for you.
Evadne Mount will return in two other novels, and hopefully, although this was planned as a trilogy, the writer will give us more. It is truly a joy to find a contemporary writer that can take us back to the twenties and create a wonderful crime novel.
Truly one to be read and savored.
December 11, 2011
A house party on Boxing Day c1935 turns into a murder hunt. Snowed in with no hope of police intervention for some days, the murderer does not realise that a retired chief inspector lives close by.
He pops in to investigate in advance of official sources and with the help of crime novelist Evadne Mount, who does most to unmask the unlikely killer, the mystery is solved.
The build-up is superb, tantalisingly pointing to any number of guests who could have perpetrated the crime until the most unsuspected murderer is revealed, which leads to a dramatic climax.
Great fun, great read, let's have more Evadne!
He pops in to investigate in advance of official sources and with the help of crime novelist Evadne Mount, who does most to unmask the unlikely killer, the mystery is solved.
The build-up is superb, tantalisingly pointing to any number of guests who could have perpetrated the crime until the most unsuspected murderer is revealed, which leads to a dramatic climax.
Great fun, great read, let's have more Evadne!
October 8, 2023
I wanted to like this. It’s a pastiche or parody of a classic whodunnit, with lots of nods and references to the masters and mistresses of the form. The thing is very, very clever and works on those terms. The trouble is that the way it’s written is irritating as Hell…
I’m sorry, let me clarify. The style and one or two other traits are as irritating as that really itchy bit in the Inferno with the falsifiers. I don’t know if it’s coolly ironic imitation of bad prose or just plain bad bad prose, but the effect on me is the same. I cannot be having with writing like this:
“(To be honest, it was a joke which Roger ffolkes had made to absolutely every stranger who had ever crossed the threshold of his house and by now it was as old and creaky as the mummy itself.)”
Or this:
“’’Ello beautiful,’ he greeted her with the uncouth coquetry he had long since patented. His was a line as subtle as semaphore and you couldn’t help wondering how it ever worked.”
It’s a character-flaw, I know, but that’s the way I am. Likewise, I don’t at all like the assumption that everyone in a classic whodunnit has to be various forms of ‘ist. I get it: golden-age crime writers did sometimes use language that would, these days, raise a few eyebrows, but there is such a thing as overdoing it. It's not as if those attitudes are so prominent and ubiquitous in classic whodunnits that they really need parodying.
And then the thing is about ninety percent red-herring. The elegant puzzle is in there, it’s just swamped by all the other stuff. I’d rather be reading the genuine article, or even one of Evadne Mount’s books than Adair’s homage/parody.
Intermittently fun but not really to my taste. Sorry.
I’m sorry, let me clarify. The style and one or two other traits are as irritating as that really itchy bit in the Inferno with the falsifiers. I don’t know if it’s coolly ironic imitation of bad prose or just plain bad bad prose, but the effect on me is the same. I cannot be having with writing like this:
“(To be honest, it was a joke which Roger ffolkes had made to absolutely every stranger who had ever crossed the threshold of his house and by now it was as old and creaky as the mummy itself.)”
Or this:
“’’Ello beautiful,’ he greeted her with the uncouth coquetry he had long since patented. His was a line as subtle as semaphore and you couldn’t help wondering how it ever worked.”
It’s a character-flaw, I know, but that’s the way I am. Likewise, I don’t at all like the assumption that everyone in a classic whodunnit has to be various forms of ‘ist. I get it: golden-age crime writers did sometimes use language that would, these days, raise a few eyebrows, but there is such a thing as overdoing it. It's not as if those attitudes are so prominent and ubiquitous in classic whodunnits that they really need parodying.
And then the thing is about ninety percent red-herring. The elegant puzzle is in there, it’s just swamped by all the other stuff. I’d rather be reading the genuine article, or even one of Evadne Mount’s books than Adair’s homage/parody.
Intermittently fun but not really to my taste. Sorry.
January 13, 2020
Da je bila kraca za 100 stranica bila bi zanimljivija.
March 5, 2021
Well worth a read. Nicely crafted and well written.
June 11, 2020
The Act of Roger Murgatroyd is a parody of Christie's The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The characters are barely veiled Christie standards, with Evadne Mount standing in for Ariadne Oliver, and so on, and it is publicised on the cover as a 'witty homage' to Christie.
Read it as a whodunnit it becomes almost a standard of its type. The clues are not subtle so that a reader can have it figured out very early on. The plot is deliberately cliched, and the characters likewise - which you might expect in a parody. Was it funny? Not as funny as I had expected it to be. It highlighted the tropes of the genre but never in a way that really sent them up.
Now we come to the real downside. I have read a great many books written in that golden age era of the whodunnit, and occasionally raised an eyebrow at some of the dialogue, but read in context it is something you can note as an echo of that era and move on.
I am all for verisimilitude and viewing stories as a mirror of their era. When a book is set in the past but written for a 21st century audience a writer cannot avoid reflecting some of the attitudes current in that period but from a modern sense. There are many books written in recent years set in the golden age era that have succeeded in portraying these tropes without condoning them. The Act of Roger Murgatroyd, however, is not one of them.
It is not the least bit delicate. It places racist, homophobic, sexist and anti-semetic views in the mouths of various characters at various times. Had these been included to outline a character's shortcomings it might have at least had a reason, but there were non that I could see. Had it been written at the latter end of the 20th century it still may have been of its time - but this was published in 2006. Were it written in the current climate I doubt it would be published.
Competently written in the sense of pace and sentence construction, and perhaps worth reading purely on an academic level, but not something I would read again.
Read it as a whodunnit it becomes almost a standard of its type. The clues are not subtle so that a reader can have it figured out very early on. The plot is deliberately cliched, and the characters likewise - which you might expect in a parody. Was it funny? Not as funny as I had expected it to be. It highlighted the tropes of the genre but never in a way that really sent them up.
Now we come to the real downside. I have read a great many books written in that golden age era of the whodunnit, and occasionally raised an eyebrow at some of the dialogue, but read in context it is something you can note as an echo of that era and move on.
I am all for verisimilitude and viewing stories as a mirror of their era. When a book is set in the past but written for a 21st century audience a writer cannot avoid reflecting some of the attitudes current in that period but from a modern sense. There are many books written in recent years set in the golden age era that have succeeded in portraying these tropes without condoning them. The Act of Roger Murgatroyd, however, is not one of them.
It is not the least bit delicate. It places racist, homophobic, sexist and anti-semetic views in the mouths of various characters at various times. Had these been included to outline a character's shortcomings it might have at least had a reason, but there were non that I could see. Had it been written at the latter end of the 20th century it still may have been of its time - but this was published in 2006. Were it written in the current climate I doubt it would be published.
Competently written in the sense of pace and sentence construction, and perhaps worth reading purely on an academic level, but not something I would read again.
April 17, 2019
This was light entertainment for bedtime reading and it mostly worked well for that, although there were some longueurs in the middle and Adair is sometimes a bit too pleased with himself. Despite not being a habitual reader of mysteries, I correctly guessed who the murderer was very early on, before there were even any clues, simply because Adair clearly didn't want you to think it was this person. It doesn't really matter though, this is more about parody than mystery. My favourite chapter was the one in which Evadne and Cora reveal their discreditable past (featuring Evadne's answer to The Well of Loneliness: The Urinal of Futility. But I also enjoyed, in a masochistic way, Evadne's summaries of the plots of far too many of her novels.
July 29, 2011
A frightfully entertaining spoof of the classic english murder mystery.
"As you're doubtless sick to the back-teeth of hearing, Gentry took the absolute pip. He was a beast, a rotter of the first water, a self-infatuated, sallow-complexioned little climber, with his artistic hair and his scarlet lips and his T.S. this and D.H. that and his eternal boasting and bragging about his acquaintance with the Maharani of Rajasthan or the Oom of Oompapah or some other equally improbable pasha or pashette. [...] No, I did not murder Raymond Gentry. Though to be candid with you [...] I wish I had."
"As you're doubtless sick to the back-teeth of hearing, Gentry took the absolute pip. He was a beast, a rotter of the first water, a self-infatuated, sallow-complexioned little climber, with his artistic hair and his scarlet lips and his T.S. this and D.H. that and his eternal boasting and bragging about his acquaintance with the Maharani of Rajasthan or the Oom of Oompapah or some other equally improbable pasha or pashette. [...] No, I did not murder Raymond Gentry. Though to be candid with you [...] I wish I had."
August 31, 2012
Thank goodness this is just a stand alone book. Possibly one of the least enjoyable books I've read recently. The plot dragged on far too long and few developments occurred along the way until Mount suddenly recalls a key clue and solves the whole thing over the last 20 pages. That character has a rather iritating tendency to waffle and wander from the point. I'll admit the end when it switches to the murderer's thoughts at the very end was quite witty and boosted the book a bit. Pitty it was too little too late.
November 25, 2007
I read this back-to-back with Agatha Christie's "The murder of Roger Ackroyd" which was apparently the inspiration for Gilbert Adair and I loved them both! I loved the twists and turns and I couldn't guess who the murderer was!
May 18, 2018
at points I felt it was trying too hard to be cute
Read
December 21, 2022This should be a poor parody. I have a feeling that the title at least is a play on The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, which I didn’t know anything about. I got as far as the bit of Wikipedia which said, ‘It is one of Christie’s best known and most controversial novels, its innovative twist ending having a significant impact on the genre’ and stopped reading. I don’t like spoilers at the best of times.
Despite this gap in my reading this novel definitely has a gentle poke at the Agatha Christie and her take on the genre. If you were to personify Christie as a detective/writer you she would probably come out like Evadne Mount.
On Boxing Day circa 1935 there is a Christmas party at a snowed-in manor on the edge of Dartmoor. In the attic lies the body of Raymond Gentry, gossip columnist and blackmailer, who has seemingly been murdered in a locked and empty attic.
Adair turns the standard formula of investigation and revelation on its head. Through the questioning of retired Chief-Inspector Trubshawe and the several asides and retellings of her own work by Evadne we find out more about not only about Raymond Gentry but all the other guests and their motives for murder.
Adair has a wonderful sense of humour and he plays with conventions and expectations of the genre. You can tells he’s having a lot of fun and brings the reader with him.
As I was saying this should be a poor parody but it’s not. Adair creates a cast of emotive and responsive characters whose lives are touching if a little dated by modern standards. He gives them all a sense of individuality even the servants like Addie and hers ‘squashed little features’.
The who-dunnit element is well played and the range of motives is well portrayed giving several options for the real murder. Though in the end Adair still manages a surprise or two.
I’m looking forward to getting onto the next adventure of Evadne Mout in A Mysterious Affair of Style.
Highly Recommended for lovers of the genre or those that require a little light reading.
Despite this gap in my reading this novel definitely has a gentle poke at the Agatha Christie and her take on the genre. If you were to personify Christie as a detective/writer you she would probably come out like Evadne Mount.
On Boxing Day circa 1935 there is a Christmas party at a snowed-in manor on the edge of Dartmoor. In the attic lies the body of Raymond Gentry, gossip columnist and blackmailer, who has seemingly been murdered in a locked and empty attic.
Adair turns the standard formula of investigation and revelation on its head. Through the questioning of retired Chief-Inspector Trubshawe and the several asides and retellings of her own work by Evadne we find out more about not only about Raymond Gentry but all the other guests and their motives for murder.
Adair has a wonderful sense of humour and he plays with conventions and expectations of the genre. You can tells he’s having a lot of fun and brings the reader with him.
As I was saying this should be a poor parody but it’s not. Adair creates a cast of emotive and responsive characters whose lives are touching if a little dated by modern standards. He gives them all a sense of individuality even the servants like Addie and hers ‘squashed little features’.
The who-dunnit element is well played and the range of motives is well portrayed giving several options for the real murder. Though in the end Adair still manages a surprise or two.
I’m looking forward to getting onto the next adventure of Evadne Mout in A Mysterious Affair of Style.
Highly Recommended for lovers of the genre or those that require a little light reading.
December 5, 2019
Strange book is all I can say. I was expecting a modern spoof of the faithful old English Cozy Mystery. The first couple of pages were lame, almost made my abandon the whole thing -- I mean 'ffolkes manor' with the next to useless floor plan or the very mild expletive written as 'D**n' and the description of the lady novelist, one of the house guests: ". . . straightening her pince-nez, which were sitting askew on the bridge of her nose"
We have a dead man, the gossip columnist Raymond Gentry upstairs in the locked attic room, as well as Colonel ffolkes and his wife, their daughter Selina with her boyfriend the American Don, and a cliched cast of characters visiting for Christmas including the vicar and his wife (but aren't vicars usually busy on Christmas??), Evadne Mount the lady mystery writer, Cora Rutherford the actress just a bit over her best before date, Dr. Henry Rolfe and his wife who had been abroad for some time, various servants like Chitty and Farrar and the adenoidal Adelaid, and the retired police inspector Trubshawe with his faithful old dog fetched from his nearby cottage to help with investigations until the polilce can arrive -- of course we have had a large snowfall which has cut everyone off. So far so cliched. But somewhere in there it became, I hate to admit, gripping. it seems everyone had a reason to hate/fear Gilbert. But it was a locked room mystery -- and why was the Colonel shot on his regular constitutional walk on the downs?
The murdered man had a little list of secrets about the other guests, which he had revealed the night before -- why was the doctor abroad? that Cora and Evadne had been shall we say close, that the Vicar had not served in the war. In short everyone had a reason to hate Gilbert. And actually by this time I was thoroughly under the spell, just reading for the solution. And it's a good one too! If like me you miss Sayers and Christie and Chesterton, at least for old times' sake, read it
We have a dead man, the gossip columnist Raymond Gentry upstairs in the locked attic room, as well as Colonel ffolkes and his wife, their daughter Selina with her boyfriend the American Don, and a cliched cast of characters visiting for Christmas including the vicar and his wife (but aren't vicars usually busy on Christmas??), Evadne Mount the lady mystery writer, Cora Rutherford the actress just a bit over her best before date, Dr. Henry Rolfe and his wife who had been abroad for some time, various servants like Chitty and Farrar and the adenoidal Adelaid, and the retired police inspector Trubshawe with his faithful old dog fetched from his nearby cottage to help with investigations until the polilce can arrive -- of course we have had a large snowfall which has cut everyone off. So far so cliched. But somewhere in there it became, I hate to admit, gripping. it seems everyone had a reason to hate/fear Gilbert. But it was a locked room mystery -- and why was the Colonel shot on his regular constitutional walk on the downs?
The murdered man had a little list of secrets about the other guests, which he had revealed the night before -- why was the doctor abroad? that Cora and Evadne had been shall we say close, that the Vicar had not served in the war. In short everyone had a reason to hate Gilbert. And actually by this time I was thoroughly under the spell, just reading for the solution. And it's a good one too! If like me you miss Sayers and Christie and Chesterton, at least for old times' sake, read it
January 29, 2018
This book is an interesting one. It was passed onto me because I'm a big fan of Agatha Christie's books, and this is, for want of a better word, a parody. The Act of Roger Murgatroyd is clearly a play on The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. I was intrigued to say the least, and not quite sure what to expect. I wondered at first if this was going to be the same story as in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, with the same premise and the same characters, but with twists that aren't in the original novel. It turns out this is actually an entirely new novel, with the title and a few subtle references being the only direct link to Christie's work.
I enjoyed this book, if only for those little references. It was a very straightforward story, with a range of typical characters you'd normally find in crime fiction, including a detective who is brought in spontaneously. There's also plenty of backstory to pad the plot out. However, I'm not sure I would have enjoyed this book if I wasn't a fan of Christie. I imagine I would have found it rather a dull plot, with the only excitement coming from fictional sleuth Evadne's dialogue. It was a fun book with some merits, but I can't imagine I'll ever read it again.
Read my full review here:
https://theforeverbookworm.blogspot.c...
September 15, 2021
This was a reread of a book I first read when it came out in paperback. I remember very much enjoying it and bought the sequels as they came out. I don’t think that I enjoyed it as much the second time around.
It parodies the Golden Age of crime writing, combining the country house and locked room genres. There are lots of references to writers of the time and nods to particular books. As the title indicates, Christie is the obvious reference and it slips into the first person near the end as “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd” is written that way. The humour comes from the way Adair skewers the racism, anti-semitism and snobbery that permeates those earlier books. Here, the racist and anti-Semitic speech is brought into the open, and all characters are tainted.
There is of course a murder mystery to be solved and it is but that isn’t the main reason for reading or continuing to read the book.
It parodies the Golden Age of crime writing, combining the country house and locked room genres. There are lots of references to writers of the time and nods to particular books. As the title indicates, Christie is the obvious reference and it slips into the first person near the end as “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd” is written that way. The humour comes from the way Adair skewers the racism, anti-semitism and snobbery that permeates those earlier books. Here, the racist and anti-Semitic speech is brought into the open, and all characters are tainted.
There is of course a murder mystery to be solved and it is but that isn’t the main reason for reading or continuing to read the book.
December 8, 2017
Adairs novel is a wonderful homage to classic whodunits of Agatha Christie and the likes. Set in Dartmoor on Boxing day in the 1930s, a group of friends have gathered so celebrate Christmas together only to find the hosts daughter's friend dead in the morning. Since nobody liked him and the house is snowed in, there's only one possibility: one of them is the murderer.
My favorite character of the book, Evadne Mount, a novelist, who, by all chances, is writing crime mysteries, sets out to solve the case, as she has no confidence in the neighbor and (retired) policeman that is fetched to help.
I liked Adairs writing a lot and the portrait he paints of all his characters, they literally came to life with all their flaws (and there are many). Only the ending came a bit too abruptly for my liking.
My favorite character of the book, Evadne Mount, a novelist, who, by all chances, is writing crime mysteries, sets out to solve the case, as she has no confidence in the neighbor and (retired) policeman that is fetched to help.
I liked Adairs writing a lot and the portrait he paints of all his characters, they literally came to life with all their flaws (and there are many). Only the ending came a bit too abruptly for my liking.
November 5, 2023
A man is murdered at a house party. They are snowed in and the telephone is out of order. Asking a retired policeman living nearby to investigate, is the closest thing to calling the authorities. An investigation consisting of interviews with suspects unfolds. And eventually Evadne Mount, novelist, unravels the mystery.
There was a lot of clever and fun characters and dialogue here and references to golden age mysteries. The howdunnit was ok, but i was disappointed by the whodunnit: the culprit is a bit of an outsider. An entertaining read l, but the plotting could have been better. I think I'll try-out the next one in this series at some point
There was a lot of clever and fun characters and dialogue here and references to golden age mysteries. The howdunnit was ok, but i was disappointed by the whodunnit: the culprit is a bit of an outsider. An entertaining read l, but the plotting could have been better. I think I'll try-out the next one in this series at some point
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 22, 2017
Pale imitation of Agatha Christie with insufferable characters. I expected this book to be a funny and clever take on the Golden Age but it was a sad parody. All the characters' secrets were absolutes clichés! The main characters kept wittering on about irrelevant stuff that were supposed to be charming, I suppose, but it made reading this book an absolute chore. To top it off the resolution was disappointed, the ending abrupt, and there was some animal cruelty.
December 2, 2019
A lovely bit of snowed-in country house holiday fun. Adair here pays homage to the Golden Age detective stories and Agatha Christie in particular. It's a lot of fun if you're well versed in Allingham, Tey, Sayers, Marsh et al, and a familiarity with John Dickson Carr's locked room mysteries is a plus, but not a requirement. If one is not familiar with those books, I think you're probably going to miss most of the fun and 90% of the literary jokes.
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