The monogram murders

I went into this book with a certain amount of trepidation, as anyone with a passion for the original Agatha Christie books might. I was 70/30 split between a desire for more Poirot, and a deep concern about someone daring to take control of Christie’s characters without her involvement. I wanted it to be good, but it had a lot to live up to.

The Good Bits

It is possible to read this book and periodically forget it is not a Christie original. You’ll miss a few of the usual accompanying players which left me wondering a what had happened to Japp or Hastings, but there are some interesting new (potentially recurring?) companions. The language and dialogue feel generally in keeping with a period Poirot case; though there were a few occasions where the use of a word or phrase felt slightly jarring it was not enough to have a meaningful impact on my enjoyment of the story.

The puzzles are not easily guessable, they do leave you stumped and curious to find out what actually happened. For me, this is a key aspect of any Christie-esque murder mystery, and only more so where the story is attempting to be an actual Christie.

I felt compelled to keep reading, I found I was invested in the characters, and the lives they led outside of the events occurring in real time as part of this tale. As much as I wanted to know the answer to the puzzle, I also wanted to know how the individuals involved were affected by what happened

The Bad Bits

It felt like there were far too many characters, and for a while I did struggle to keep them all straight in my mind. I suspect this is related to the way in which the puzzle is solved, which I shan’t get into in this spoiler free review, except to say:

The puzzle was far too complicated, with false solutions provided in what felt like too much detail, too frequently. By the time the final reveal occurred I found that some of the intended gasp-worthy points made by Poirot had lost their impact as I had to re-read to work out why a particular statement was a lie, or why a sequence could not have occurred in the way a suspect had claimed. When the real explanation was given, rather than marvelling at its cleverness, I found myself wondering whether that was actually the end or if another alternative might turn up.

I didn’t really like the characterisation of Poirot’s new Scotland Yard sidekick, Catchpool. He was given enough focus within the story to create an impression, but I didn’t find it to be a positive one. I found him stubborn and he tried my patience during some of his interactions with Hercule. I am hopeful that if he returns in future books he might be a little more amenable, having now witnessed Poirot’s methods and successes first hand.
Trying to be objective, I realise that I know to trust Poirot and his foibles because I’m a long-time fan; if I put myself in the shoes of a fresh faced policeman, new to his idiosyncrasies, I might be less ready to accept his seemingly strange suggestions, but this didn’t quite marry up with the attitudes of the rest of Scotland Yard. They allowed Poirot to lead aspects of the case solo without question, and granted permission to visit crime scenes and search the dead bodies. If the nameless seniors at the yard knew to give Poirot space and credit his suggestions, Catchpool should also have been wise enough to follow suit. ( I think I’m being overly critical here, and perhaps it is simply that I miss Japp and Hastings).

Conclusion

Overall this book was enjoyable, and I would give it 3.5/5. I think it suffers from being the first book in a series with a new scene and new characters to embed into a world that already exists and is well loved. I think the complexity of the puzzle was likely in part driven by the author’s desire to demonstrate her crime-puzzle credentials, and given the circumstances that is understandable. The author has done a very good job with this book, given the challenges and the constraints, and I look forward to enjoying more new Hercule Poirot mysteries in the future.