Agatha, Eggs, and Book Hounds
In my pursuit to read all things Agatha Christie, I have been reading through her entire Crime Collection. It’s a 23 month program that I set up for myself. I love reading things in lists this way, but the only draw back is in getting an awful lot of Christie at once. In doing that, I found one I didn’t care for a lot faster than I would otherwise. Three Act Tragedy just didn’t do it for me. It wasn’t as exciting, it wasn’t a page-turner. I’m not sure if its my mood, if this one just isn’t my style, or if its Egg. Yes, I have a problem with Egg, and in a bit of stream of consciousness, I will tell you why.
I’m not sure if I don’t like her character or if I’m just hung up on her name. I just know for certain that I can’t go along with the idea of naming a character Egg. It really bothers me. The only remotely forgivable occasion is in True Blood, where there is a rather tall gentleman by the name of Eggs. 1. He’s a dude. 2. There’s an ‘S’ which gives me the impression that maybe its supposed to be his last name. 3. You can call anyone almost anything in the South, but Europeans should be a little more respectable in my opinion. I can say that, I’m from Texas.
I read “Egg” and am immediately filled with images and smells:
* green lights, The Great Gatsby, and eggs for neighborhoods
* lots of colors, Easter egg hunts, odors from the yard due to un-found treasures (yuck)
* yummy smells, too…. breakfast. omelette. Hobo omelette are the best.
* the feel of a cold egg cracking under my fingertips, I like the sound of the crack too
Good or bad, none of these sounds, smells, and recollections should be brought to mind from a charismatic female character in a murder mystery. How funny, too, that she even says “That is a bit catastrophic. To go through life as a Mugg -” in reference to another’s name. Whereas I think, more catastrophic than to be called “Egg”? While pondering this, Sir Charles interrupts my thoughts with some chatter about the murder and then says, “Oh, damn, why do I beat around the bush?” At that, my middle school humor kicks in and I begin to giggle as Egg is being spoken to by a man who used the word ‘beat.’ I immediately feel the need to make a Quiche, or a cheesecake, rather than solve a murder. Although Poirot is the best sleuth around and it is said that he has an egg-shaped head.
Oh Hercule Poirot! “That man! Is he back in England?” “Yes.” “Why has he come back?” “Why does a dog go hunting?” – 3rd Act, Part 10
Although, naming a character Sir Bartholemew Strange nearly makes up for this little irritation about the Egg. In fact, it would be a great name for a dog. I would call him Bartie for short, and I think perhaps he should be a hound of some kind. I have a beagle named Geoffrey Chaucer, perhaps Bartie could be the Walker Hound of my future. I’d love to have a Jack Russell named Agatha. Mmmm, no, not a Jack Russell. I’d like Agatha to be a Fox Hound…
Quasi Crisis in Christie Crime Quest and Caterpillarism
Agatha Christie behind what looks like MY TBR pile.
I had a goal to read the entire Agatha Christie Crime Collection in 23 months. I’m making it an even 24 now, because, well, I haven’t read any of her work this month. I kind of lost my mojo, my steam, the wind in my Christie sails has gone still and stagnant. I just got so wrapped up in Napoleon and Victor Hugo and a pile of other things that caught my attention this month. My desire to complete the collection is not gone. I cannot even say that I’m not in the mood to read her books as I’m in the middle of Murder in 3 Acts right now. I just didn’t finish off my allotted 3 Christie’s for the month. Its good to take a wee break every now and then though, it will make next month that much sweeter.
In addition to being distracted by Napoleon and getting very wrapped up in my Les Miserables readalong with Kate’s Library, I am now the day time nanny to 3 month old Felicity. As of day two, I can say that having this second little person with me during the day has definitely changed the reading dynamic in the house. My own toddler is half jealous of my averted attention and half in love with the idea of having a live baby doll to hold from time to time. Needless to say, reading Christie aloud to them both makes things a bit interesting as I pretty much inevitably run out of hands. Would not mind being a caterpillar-like creature right now, so I can hold books, baby, toddler, make bottles, pet dogs, and still sweep my hair out of my face at the same time. Caterpillar comes to mind with its many arms, as well as the fact that growing up I distinctly remember a summer reading program growing up whose ‘bookworm’ logo was no worm at all, but a caterpillar. I, of course, being the precocious child that I was, informed all the adults in the room and was then hushed.
So now, I take a minute to update you on the reason for the lack of updates while Ayla buckles her baby doll (the fake baby doll, not the live human baby doll) into the car seat and plays mama, and Felicity kicks her little tiny feet around in the bouncer. The feet blow my mind, even though Ayla was this small not too long ago, her feet never were. My child has very long feet, this child has very teensy tiny preemie feet.
Evenings With Agatha
Title:Murder on the Links
Author: Agatha Christie
Genre: Mystery
Length: 173 pages
One of the most wonderful parts of January has been the cold – and Agatha Christie. At the start of the year, I committed myself to a 23 month plan to read all of the Agatha Christie Crime Collection, of which I own a beautiful black and red leather set.
The picture may be old, but its the same fireside.
In the evenings, my daughter and I light the fire in the fireplace, turn on the radio (its one of those old school looking wooden ones from Target, complete with turntable, cd player, and tape deck) and jazz immediately warms the living room with sound.
I keep my Scentsy burners on constantly and this month we’ve had a lot of Honey Peared Cider, Weathered Leather, and Cozy Fireside going.
Ayla, my daughter, is 14 months old. The jazz comes on and suddenly its dancing time! We sway and swing until the tea kettle is ready (it doesn’t whistle to my utter chagrin), and then curl up together and I read aloud the selected Agatha Christie for the evening.
This is the one time of day that we spend in the living room, most of our ‘living’ happens in the library where all my books and Ayla’s play mats are. How silly of us that our living room is where we do all our reading on death and murder.
This arrangement is everything I imagined would be wonderful about spending time with my daughter, and Agatha always lives up to her end of the deal, with all the excitement of a three ring circus.
In this second installment of the Poirot investigations, Poirot cleverly and humorously antagonizes other detectives as he and the narrator, Hastings, solve the crime together. If I said anything more, I would give away all the best parts!
Anakalian Whims 