traveling back through time: *The Dain Curse, by Dashiell Hammett

9780679722601
Vintage Crime/Random House, 1989
originally published 1929
231 pp

paperback

There's something very positive to be said about these old novels; this one was written in 1928 and still has a lot of power to entertain. According to one website I visited for background on this book, The Dain Curse first made its appearance in Black Mask magazine as a serial released between October 1928 and January 1929; it was his second Continental Op story after Red Harvest.  It may not be Hammett's best, but I still had a lot of fun with it. I mean, seriously -- you have a whacked-out bunch of people involved in a crazy cult, a wealthy drug-addicted, simpering heroine who just might be the victim of a curse, an old house by the sea, a man hiding a secret identity, and of course, a number of murders.

Set in San Francisco, Hammett's unnamed detective, known to readers only as "The Continental Op," is tasked by his company to investigate the reported theft of some diamonds. The diamonds were in the possession of Edgar Leggett when they were stolen; Leggett's daughter Gabrielle may have been a witness.  From the getgo, the detective believes it was an inside job, and the opening stages of the investigation lead him to the Temple of the Holy Grail, "the fashionable one just now" run by one of Leggett's friends and frequented by Gabrielle. It's a place where "the right sort of people" go, not a "Holy Roller or House of David sort of thing."  After a spending a night in the temple that he'll never forget, one that ends in death,  the case moves the Op  to a small seaside town where he immediately discovers another yet another body, eventually coming to the realization that he's been pitted against a madman.

an earlier cover of The Dain Curse

The Dain Curse is twisty, and lots of people die in this story before the killer is discovered,  making the crime portion of this book good reading. It isn't as hardboiled as I would have imagined, after reading some of his later novels,  but this work was written still quite early in Hammett's career.  If you read this novel slowly, you'll also discover that Hammett , via the character of Fitzstephan who writes cheesy novels, seems to be comparing and contrasting the work of a detective (Hammett's earlier, pre-writing occupation) and the work of a writer. If you think about that idea for a moment, it adds a reflective layer to this book that takes it beyond just another crime novel.  For example, the two (Fitzstephan and the Op) first meet when the detective was working on a case about phony mediums who had fleeced a woman for a hundred thousand dollars.  He was "digging dirt," and Fitzstephan was "plowing the same field for literary material."  When they meet up again in San Francisco, and Fitzstephan asks him about what a particular person has been up to, the Op notes that

"We don't do it that way...You're a storywriter. I can't trust you not to build up on what I tell you. I'll save mine till after you've spoken your piece, so yours won't be twisted to fit mine."

and then later, in a discussion about how Fitzstephan's business is "with souls and what goes on in them," they have the following exchange, beginning with Fitzstephan:

"Are you -- who make your living snooping -- sneering at my curiosity about people and my attempts to satisfy it?"

"We're different...I do mine with the object of putting people in jail, and I get paid for it, though not as much as I should."

"That's not different...I do mine with the object of putting people in books, and I get paid for it, though not as much as I should."

Yet while these scenes scattered here and there throughout the novel are interesting, the focus is really on the crimes and how the Continental Op arrives at the solution -- and it's a ride that is beyond crazy.

Another thing to point out is that this book is filled with racist remarks; not that I condone them but they are a product of the times in which this book was written so keep that in mind as you read.   Definitely recommended for those who enjoy vintage crime; cozy readers and strictly police-procedural fans probably wouldn't enjoy it as much.  Now I'm going to go back and read Red Harvest ... then make my way through the rest of Hammett's novels that I've missed. 

traveling back through time -- the 1920s and The Red House Mystery, by A. A. Milne

pre-isbn
Methuen, Fourteenth edition,
originally published 1922

"Whatever else this case was, it was not ordinary.  There was something uncanny about it."

The Goodreads Mystery, Crime and Thriller group  announced The Red House House Mystery as one of its group reads for July, so remembering that I had a copy in the British Reading Room, I dug it out and joined the discussion.  It's not a very active or lively one, but at least a few people are enjoying it.  My copy is super old, from the 30s, one I found perusing the local books/antique store near my house and bought for a dollar.   It's not a bad read -- a country-house, locked-room sort of thing,  lots of red herrings, two amateurs playing at Holmes and Watson and an ending that I sort of guessed but not really.  It's also one of those books where you have to make yourself get through the first few chapters, but after that you'll encounter pretty smooth sailing.  

Antony (Tony) Gillingham, the less important son of a privileged family,  came into an inheritance at 21, and decided to see the world -- through its people. Now at age 30, he has decided to go and visit a friend,  Bill Beverley, whom he met earlier while working at a tobacconist's shop.  Bill, it seems, is a guest at a house party at Mark Ablett's Red House, and Antony decides to go and see him. As it turns out, he arrives just in time for a murder -- that of Robert Ablett, Mark's "wastrel" brother from Australia who had just recently arrived.  Everyone else is asked to leave; Bill and Antony stay on at the house until the inquest with Mark's cousin and protégé Matthew Cayley.  Having time on his hands, and "wanting a new profession," Antony decides that becoming a "private sleuthhound," and "being Sherlocky" are just the ticket, and tags Bill as his ever-faithful Watson. Anthony's already got the murderer pegged, but how he/she did it is another question altogether. While Bill sees it as a Sherlockian lark, Tony sometimes finds the going tough:

"Of course, it's very hampering being a detective, when you don't know anything about detecting, and when nobody knows that you're doing detection, and you can't have people up to cross-examine them, and you have neither the energy nor the means to make proper inquiries; and, in short, when you're doing the whole thing in a thoroughly amateur, haphazard way."

Now here, refreshingly, is a character who understands his limitations -- and  the possibility that he could be wrong about some things actually occurs to him from time to time.  Nevertheless, the two do a proper bit of sleuthing here, even if at times it seems as though they're playing at silly buggers. 

The amateur approach to crime solving here is interesting and I'm sure the author meant well, given his "passion for detective stories," but when it comes right down to it,  there are several PPIs (problematic plot issues)  that are really noticeable, especially for avid crime-reading junkies.   Still, it's a fun little mystery novel, and I have a secret fondness for stately English-manor mysteries, so I found it quite enjoyable -- more so for the two main characters and how they go about pretending to partake in a Sherlockian adventure than for the plot itself.  I also loved the introduction to this book, where Milne (yes, the Winnie-the-Pooh guy)

 talks about his "passion for detective stories," and his ideas about the elements of the perfect detective story.  I have to agree with him on most points.  Some readers may find the language a little stilted, but fans of crime writing during this era are used to it so it's not really that big of a deal.  If you're looking beyond Agatha Christie for a 1920s-period novel, you might enjoy this one.

classic mystery fiction from England

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie

9780007234370
HarperCollins, 2006
originally published 1926


The Murder of Roger Ackroyd has long been one of my favorite Christie novels, not so much for Poirot's detection skills, but for its classic ending.  This time around was my second reading of this book, and knowing the ending, it was still fun watching the solution to this rather baffling crime unravel.

Because of the nature of the story, I can't really give an in-depth summary here. If you decide to read this book, believe me, you'll thank me later.  In the quiet English village of King's Abbot, Roger Ackroyd, as the title suggests, ends up murdered in the study of his home Fernly Park.  As it just so happens, Poirot is in the village, staying in the house next door to Dr. Sheppard (the narrator) and his sister Caroline, where he spends his days growing vegetable marrows.  Dr. Sheppard believes his new neighbor is a hairdresser, based on the evidence of Poirot's moustache. But Poirot reveals his true colors as he gets down to the business of Ackroyd's murder, using his "little gray cells" to comb through the staggering amount of red herrings and a number of suspects in the case. 

While this book is extraordinary in terms of the case, there are also a number of humorous moments throughout. An entire chapter is devoted to a rather crazy mah-jong game where the players share their own theories about the case in between calling out plays.  And at one point, one of the suspects calls Poirot a "little foreign cock duck," and I swear I heard the voice of John Cleese in my head, as the epithet reminded me of that scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where the French knights mercilessly taunt King Arthur and his men ("your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries").  But on the serious side, I have to say that this second reading provided me with a deeper appreciation for Christie's attention to minute detail -- as even little things turn out to be important in this book.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is one of Christie's best works, with an ending you won't soon forget. It's a definite must read in the Christie canon and one of my personal favorites.

--what is a vegetable marrow, by the way?

The Secret of Chimneys AND how the heck did Jane Marple get there?

9780312979744
McMillan/Minotaur
2001
288 pp.
originally published 1925

As the story opens, one Anthony Cade is working as a tour guide in Africa. At a bar one day Cade meets an old buddy, James McGrath, who has been tasked with the delivery of the memoirs of the now-dead Count Stylptitch of Herzoslovakia to a London publishing firm. But McGrath has decided to seek his fortune in the gold fields, and offers Cade a tidy sum to go to England with the memoirs and a stash of letters that could be blackmail fodder for an unsuspecting Virginia Revel. Cade is off to England, and finds himself caught up between two sides of a touchy political situation. He also finds that he is a target of some very nasty people who are trying to get both the memoirs and the letters. The situation leads him to a house called Chimneys, the home of Lord Caterham, his daughter Bundle, and various diplomats and others interested in the political situation in Herzoslovakia. Upon his arrival, Cade finds himself as a chief suspect in the death of Prince Michael Obolovitch, the heir to the Herzoslovakian throne and negotiator of British oil interests in that country. Enter Superintendent Battle and the hunt for the murderer begins.

As with most Christie novels, there are plenty of suspects, an abundance of motives, and an interesting array of lead characters. Unlike most of her stories, this one is filled with political intrigue, and the reader has to digest the background story of the country of Herzoslovakia before really delving into the mystery. This may be a bit off-putting to regular Christie readers, but it's worth the time and effort to get the story and the list of who's who regarding that nation as it sets an important backdrop to the various criminal activity throughout the book.  It is rather complicated and at times convoluted, but still an interesting read, with a lovely twist at the end. 

If I were a reader who has decided that he or she would like to read through the Christie novels, I would not want to start with this one, since imho, it doesn't deliver the best Christie has to offer. My advice: read through the Poirots and the Marples, then tackle the others for something just a bit different.

Having said all of that, my local PBS station is airing "The Secret of Chimneys" as part of the Masterpiece Mystery! series, which is set to TiVo from my television this evening. For me, there is absolutely nothing like reading a book and then watching it come to life on the screen (in that order).  So wondering who's going to play whom, I went over to the PBS website and discovered that lo and behold, the star of this program is Miss Jane Marple, you know, the newest one, Julia McKenzie.  And then I said "what?????"  Okay, actually my "what" was more like WTF -- this isn't a Miss Marple mystery at all! How does it happen that this nice little old lady from St. Mary Mead is dropped into a murder mystery at an English country home filled with political intrigue and some pretty rotten bad guys when she wasn't even in Christie's original story? And why does the blurb say "based on the novel by Agatha Christie?"

I wonder if the writers of the screenplay (John Strickland, Paul Rutman) were sitting around one day thinking that they ought to throw in Miss Marple just for the heck of it, because surely they actually read the original story.  But perhaps not -- it seems that Miss Marple has shown up in a Tommy and Tuppence adventure as well. As a Christie purist, this really upsets me and takes out some of the fun of watching the televised Secret of Chimneys because I know that Chimneys didn't really host Miss Marple, so what is she doing there? Maybe the screenwriters thought no one actually reads Agatha Christie any more and that no one would notice.

Not that this issue will consume my entire day, but it is rather annoying. Is it too much to ask, do you think, that screenwriters at least get the characters straight? I like my screen adaptations to be adapted -- not made up. Maybe I'll drop a line and see if I get an answer!

 fiction from England