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New Hercule Poirot Mysteries #1
The Monogram Murders
‘I’m a dead woman, or I shall be soon…’
Hercule Poirot's quiet supper in a London coffeehouse is interrupted when a young woman confides to him that she is about to be murdered. She is terrified – but begs Poirot not to find and punish her killer. Once she is dead, she insists, justice will have been done.
Later that night, Poirot learns that three guests at a fashionable London Hotel have been murdered, and a cufflink has been placed in each one’s mouth. Could there be a connection with the frightened woman? While Poirot struggles to put together the bizarre pieces of the puzzle, the murderer prepares another hotel bedroom for a fourth victim...
Hercule Poirot's quiet supper in a London coffeehouse is interrupted when a young woman confides to him that she is about to be murdered. She is terrified – but begs Poirot not to find and punish her killer. Once she is dead, she insists, justice will have been done.
Later that night, Poirot learns that three guests at a fashionable London Hotel have been murdered, and a cufflink has been placed in each one’s mouth. Could there be a connection with the frightened woman? While Poirot struggles to put together the bizarre pieces of the puzzle, the murderer prepares another hotel bedroom for a fourth victim...
320 pages, ebook
First published September 9, 2014
2469 people are currently reading
21685 people want to read
About the author
Sophie Hannah
107 books4,540 followersSophie Hannah is an internationally bestselling writer of psychological crime fiction, published in 27 countries. In 2013, her latest novel, The Carrier, won the Crime Thriller of the Year Award at the Specsavers National Book Awards. Two of Sophie’s crime novels, The Point of Rescue and The Other Half Lives, have been adapted for television and appeared on ITV1 under the series title Case Sensitive in 2011 and 2012. In 2004, Sophie won first prize in the Daphne Du Maurier Festival Short Story Competition for her suspense story The Octopus Nest, which is now published in her first collection of short stories, The Fantastic Book of Everybody’s Secrets.
Sophie has also published five collections of poetry. Her fifth, Pessimism for Beginners, was shortlisted for the 2007 T S Eliot Award. Her poetry is studied at GCSE, A-level and degree level across the UK. From 1997 to 1999 she was Fellow Commoner in Creative Arts at Trinity College, Cambridge, and between 1999 and 2001 she was a fellow of Wolfson College, Oxford. She is forty-one and lives with her husband and children in Cambridge, where she is a Fellow Commoner at Lucy Cavendish College. She is currently working on a new challenge for the little grey cells of Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie’s famous detective.
Sophie has also published five collections of poetry. Her fifth, Pessimism for Beginners, was shortlisted for the 2007 T S Eliot Award. Her poetry is studied at GCSE, A-level and degree level across the UK. From 1997 to 1999 she was Fellow Commoner in Creative Arts at Trinity College, Cambridge, and between 1999 and 2001 she was a fellow of Wolfson College, Oxford. She is forty-one and lives with her husband and children in Cambridge, where she is a Fellow Commoner at Lucy Cavendish College. She is currently working on a new challenge for the little grey cells of Hercule Poirot, Agatha Christie’s famous detective.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,177 reviews
October 30, 2014
I am SO SUSPICIOUS of this book. If the estate approved it, it must be all right???? But can anyone successfully write Poirot in the year 2014???? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK
update, 10/30: okay I READ THE THING.
To be honest, I think the mystery wasn't terrible, and I might have engaged with it if it were not for Catchpool. He is the worst detective I have ever read about. Better detectives include: parodies of detectives, amateur sleuths, and people who are actively attempting to sabotage investigations. I mean, Catchpool literally leaves three dead bodies overnight, without calling in any forensics or backup, and without investigating the crime scene, because he is squeamish about the murder and can't bring himself to act. He spends the entire book musing about how horrid the murder is and shivering when he considers the murderer is still out there. Give me a break, bro! You are a detective! THIS IS YOUR ACTUAL JOB.
And it's not like adding a secondary character perspective is unique in the Christie universe. It has been done very well before. If you're going to resurrect Poirot, you could also choose to resurrect any number of people who act as sidekicks. The obvious choice is Hastings, of course, but you could also go with Superintendent Spence, Inspector Japp, or even Superintendent Battle. No one needs a ludicrously inept original character who serves only to add page count to this book.
Not only is Catchpool the worst detective ever, he's also just the worst to read about. He keeps interjecting himself into scenes where he only says things like, "I almost agreed, but then realized no one cared what I thought." That is some serious meta content right there. And he comes up with some real dumb shit, like "I started to wonder if I might not prefer to fail alone and entirely under my own steam than succeed only thanks to Poirot's involvement." I AM NOT HERE TO READ ABOUT YOUR TERRIBLE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS THAT WOULD RESULT IN A MURDERER GOING FREE. God. Nothing about him was remotely redeemable.
Anyway! The rest of the writing was fine, not great. It made me appreciate just how skillfully Agatha Christie drew scenes and characters. I felt like Hannah didn't come close to making me invested in or understanding of the characters in this book. In Hannah's version, Poirot also spends a lot of time being fairly ridiculous (again, through Catchpool's eyes, which is another thing I blame him for) and a lot of time speaking French, which I don't remember from the original books. And he says "little grey cells" about a zillion times. I don't know. It all felt a little off to me.
The mystery itself was crazily convoluted, and I thought
This might have gotten a few more stars (maybe it was a two-star book??), except I'm still shaking my fist forever about Catchpool.
update, 10/30: okay I READ THE THING.
To be honest, I think the mystery wasn't terrible, and I might have engaged with it if it were not for Catchpool. He is the worst detective I have ever read about. Better detectives include: parodies of detectives, amateur sleuths, and people who are actively attempting to sabotage investigations. I mean, Catchpool literally leaves three dead bodies overnight, without calling in any forensics or backup, and without investigating the crime scene, because he is squeamish about the murder and can't bring himself to act. He spends the entire book musing about how horrid the murder is and shivering when he considers the murderer is still out there. Give me a break, bro! You are a detective! THIS IS YOUR ACTUAL JOB.
And it's not like adding a secondary character perspective is unique in the Christie universe. It has been done very well before. If you're going to resurrect Poirot, you could also choose to resurrect any number of people who act as sidekicks. The obvious choice is Hastings, of course, but you could also go with Superintendent Spence, Inspector Japp, or even Superintendent Battle. No one needs a ludicrously inept original character who serves only to add page count to this book.
Not only is Catchpool the worst detective ever, he's also just the worst to read about. He keeps interjecting himself into scenes where he only says things like, "I almost agreed, but then realized no one cared what I thought." That is some serious meta content right there. And he comes up with some real dumb shit, like "I started to wonder if I might not prefer to fail alone and entirely under my own steam than succeed only thanks to Poirot's involvement." I AM NOT HERE TO READ ABOUT YOUR TERRIBLE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS THAT WOULD RESULT IN A MURDERER GOING FREE. God. Nothing about him was remotely redeemable.
Anyway! The rest of the writing was fine, not great. It made me appreciate just how skillfully Agatha Christie drew scenes and characters. I felt like Hannah didn't come close to making me invested in or understanding of the characters in this book. In Hannah's version, Poirot also spends a lot of time being fairly ridiculous (again, through Catchpool's eyes, which is another thing I blame him for) and a lot of time speaking French, which I don't remember from the original books. And he says "little grey cells" about a zillion times. I don't know. It all felt a little off to me.
The mystery itself was crazily convoluted, and I thought
This might have gotten a few more stars (maybe it was a two-star book??), except I'm still shaking my fist forever about Catchpool.
September 15, 2014
Poirot just knows...
A terrified woman bursts into the coffee house where Hercule Poirot is partaking of the best coffee in London. When Poirot tells her he is a detective, she seems tempted to share her worries but in the end tells him only that she is about to be murdered and that, once she is dead, justice will have been done. Pausing only to beg him to prevent the police from investigating, she pleads cryptically 'Oh, please let no one open their mouths' and flees back into the night. Meantime Mr Catchpool of Scotland Yard, who lives in the same lodging house as Poirot, has been called to the Bloxham Hotel where three guests have been found murdered. Poirot (psychically) suspects there may be a link...
In fact, I hadn't ever before realised just how psychic Poirot was. How remiss of Ms Christie never to reveal this fact! All these years she led us to believe he came to his conclusions based on his reading of the clues, his ability to see through the red herrings to the facts, the superior power of his little grey cells. Ms Hannah kindly lets us in on the true secret though. Clues are unnecessary. Poirot just knows what has happened. At each stage, as other people flounder to make sense of the plot (well, I certainly did!), Poirot sees straight through to the truth without the need for any pesky evidence or suchlike nonsense. What a gift! Unfortunately not one that makes a detective novel work very well though...
If this book had been written about a detective called Smith, it might have rated maybe three stars. The plot is convoluted, psychologically unconvincing and over-padded. The list of suspects is far too small, meaning that there are no big surprises come the reveal. But the writing style is quite good, some of the characterisation is fine and the descriptions of the places involved in the plot are done reasonably well.
BUT...there is a great big 'Agatha Christie' on the front of the book, so this should really read like one of hers, shouldn't it? It doesn't. From the very beginning Poirot is not right. For a start, he has moved into a lodging house because he wants to escape from his fame for a while and be anonymous. Doesn't sound like the Poirot I know! Secondly we hear almost nothing about his little foibles – his vanity, his moustaches, his rotundity, his endearingly egg-shaped head, his patent leather shoes. We do get to hear a little about his passion for order but just as a sop. Thirdly he goes about searching rooms and seeking out physical clues like Holmes on an eager day. The real Poirot, as we know, is actually much more interested in the psychology of the crime. Fourthly, when the real Poirot speaks French, he kindly only uses words we're all going to get without resorting to a French-English dictionary – mais pas ce prétendant. Fifthly, at the end he actually participates in a formal police interview in a police station – but I was past the stage of caring long before then anyway. So I'll be kind and spare you sixthly, seventhly...etc.
I saw Sophie Hannah being interviewed about the book on the BBC News channel, and she said that she had decided not to try to recreate Christie's style. So she created a new character, Catchpool, to be the narrator so that he could bring a new voice to the story. I was willing to go along with this idea, though it seemed a shame not to have Hastings along for the ride. But firstly (sorry), Catchpool is extremely annoying. He can't stand dead bodies, keeps walking away from the investigation, is as thick as a brick and basically hands the entire investigation over to Poirot (mind you, with Poirot's amazing supernatural abilities, who wouldn't?). Secondly, he's struggling not to reveal that he's gay – that's never spelled out, but it's quite clear from the unsubtle hints that are dropped all over the place. Now I know it's obligatory that every police officer in detective fiction is either gay or drunk these days, or both, (I suppose I should be glad that at least he was sober), but this is supposed to be a Christie-style book. I'm certainly not arguing that all gay men should be portrayed like Mr Pye in The Moving Finger, but the idea of Ms Christie having a gay policeman is frankly ridiculous. And Poirot's psychic powers let him down on that one, since he seems determined to pair Catchpool off with a nice woman. Thirdly, Catchpool tells the story in the first-person (past tense, thankfully), and yet knows every detail of what happens when he's not there. So he can describe all of Poirot's conversations verbatim, tells us when people stand up, sit down, blush, etc. – clearly Poirot's psychic abilities are catching.
The last fifth of the book is taken up with the traditional get-together where Poirot reveals what happened, but it goes on for ever and is mainly just Poirot telling us the whole story, with no reference as to how he came by all these amazing insights. As I said before, he just knows! And considering how silly and unlikely the plot is, that seems beyond miraculous.
I can only say that I sincerely hope there won't be another of these. If there is, even I will be able to resist the temptation next time. Because now (cue spooky music), FictionFan just knows too...
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
A terrified woman bursts into the coffee house where Hercule Poirot is partaking of the best coffee in London. When Poirot tells her he is a detective, she seems tempted to share her worries but in the end tells him only that she is about to be murdered and that, once she is dead, justice will have been done. Pausing only to beg him to prevent the police from investigating, she pleads cryptically 'Oh, please let no one open their mouths' and flees back into the night. Meantime Mr Catchpool of Scotland Yard, who lives in the same lodging house as Poirot, has been called to the Bloxham Hotel where three guests have been found murdered. Poirot (psychically) suspects there may be a link...
In fact, I hadn't ever before realised just how psychic Poirot was. How remiss of Ms Christie never to reveal this fact! All these years she led us to believe he came to his conclusions based on his reading of the clues, his ability to see through the red herrings to the facts, the superior power of his little grey cells. Ms Hannah kindly lets us in on the true secret though. Clues are unnecessary. Poirot just knows what has happened. At each stage, as other people flounder to make sense of the plot (well, I certainly did!), Poirot sees straight through to the truth without the need for any pesky evidence or suchlike nonsense. What a gift! Unfortunately not one that makes a detective novel work very well though...
If this book had been written about a detective called Smith, it might have rated maybe three stars. The plot is convoluted, psychologically unconvincing and over-padded. The list of suspects is far too small, meaning that there are no big surprises come the reveal. But the writing style is quite good, some of the characterisation is fine and the descriptions of the places involved in the plot are done reasonably well.
BUT...there is a great big 'Agatha Christie' on the front of the book, so this should really read like one of hers, shouldn't it? It doesn't. From the very beginning Poirot is not right. For a start, he has moved into a lodging house because he wants to escape from his fame for a while and be anonymous. Doesn't sound like the Poirot I know! Secondly we hear almost nothing about his little foibles – his vanity, his moustaches, his rotundity, his endearingly egg-shaped head, his patent leather shoes. We do get to hear a little about his passion for order but just as a sop. Thirdly he goes about searching rooms and seeking out physical clues like Holmes on an eager day. The real Poirot, as we know, is actually much more interested in the psychology of the crime. Fourthly, when the real Poirot speaks French, he kindly only uses words we're all going to get without resorting to a French-English dictionary – mais pas ce prétendant. Fifthly, at the end he actually participates in a formal police interview in a police station – but I was past the stage of caring long before then anyway. So I'll be kind and spare you sixthly, seventhly...etc.
I saw Sophie Hannah being interviewed about the book on the BBC News channel, and she said that she had decided not to try to recreate Christie's style. So she created a new character, Catchpool, to be the narrator so that he could bring a new voice to the story. I was willing to go along with this idea, though it seemed a shame not to have Hastings along for the ride. But firstly (sorry), Catchpool is extremely annoying. He can't stand dead bodies, keeps walking away from the investigation, is as thick as a brick and basically hands the entire investigation over to Poirot (mind you, with Poirot's amazing supernatural abilities, who wouldn't?). Secondly, he's struggling not to reveal that he's gay – that's never spelled out, but it's quite clear from the unsubtle hints that are dropped all over the place. Now I know it's obligatory that every police officer in detective fiction is either gay or drunk these days, or both, (I suppose I should be glad that at least he was sober), but this is supposed to be a Christie-style book. I'm certainly not arguing that all gay men should be portrayed like Mr Pye in The Moving Finger, but the idea of Ms Christie having a gay policeman is frankly ridiculous. And Poirot's psychic powers let him down on that one, since he seems determined to pair Catchpool off with a nice woman. Thirdly, Catchpool tells the story in the first-person (past tense, thankfully), and yet knows every detail of what happens when he's not there. So he can describe all of Poirot's conversations verbatim, tells us when people stand up, sit down, blush, etc. – clearly Poirot's psychic abilities are catching.
The last fifth of the book is taken up with the traditional get-together where Poirot reveals what happened, but it goes on for ever and is mainly just Poirot telling us the whole story, with no reference as to how he came by all these amazing insights. As I said before, he just knows! And considering how silly and unlikely the plot is, that seems beyond miraculous.
I can only say that I sincerely hope there won't be another of these. If there is, even I will be able to resist the temptation next time. Because now (cue spooky music), FictionFan just knows too...
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
November 7, 2025
Overwritten, over-long, rambling, unsubtle and simply wrong. You know that from the very first chapter which teems with irrelevancies and silly quirks. (Poirot drinks coffee BEFORE dinner because it is 'the best coffee in London' -- Poirot is served vermicelli -- Poirot lives in a lodging house! -- even his French sounds a little too self-conscious and too careful.)
Then there is Catchpool — but the less said about him, the better.
A faint flutter of interest is generated when a distraught character introduces her enigmatic problem but that evaporates fast as the novel plods on — and on — and becomes unreadable. Hannah's skills have been vastly over-rated and extravagantly praised. Of course there are readers who claim to like the book but then, in the words of Mrs Oliver, "Some people would read ANYTHING."
Makes you appreciate Agatha Christie's effortlessly clever plotting, her concision, wonderful readability and talent for creating suspense and delivering ingenious twists. I very much doubt if the MM would have received any publicity at all if the detective's name had been not Hercule Poirot but something else.
Then there is Catchpool — but the less said about him, the better.
A faint flutter of interest is generated when a distraught character introduces her enigmatic problem but that evaporates fast as the novel plods on — and on — and becomes unreadable. Hannah's skills have been vastly over-rated and extravagantly praised. Of course there are readers who claim to like the book but then, in the words of Mrs Oliver, "Some people would read ANYTHING."
Makes you appreciate Agatha Christie's effortlessly clever plotting, her concision, wonderful readability and talent for creating suspense and delivering ingenious twists. I very much doubt if the MM would have received any publicity at all if the detective's name had been not Hercule Poirot but something else.
September 13, 2014
Let’s get the most important point out of the way: Hannah Sophie is no Dame Agatha Christie. With Laurie R. King, her Mary Russell-Sherlock Holmes series, which begins with The Beekeeper's Apprentice, you forget you are not reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, she so perfectly captures Conan Doyle’s voice. The same goes for Jill Paton Walsh when she is at her best and is completing an effort begun by Dorothy L. Sayers, as in Thrones, Dominations and A Presumption of Death (although not in her solo effort, The Attenbury Emeralds. Ugh!)
Set in 1929, in The Monogram Murders, Hercule Poirot sets out to help the hopeless Scotland Yard detective Edward Catchpool (a clueless Captain Hastings stand-in) to investigate the cyanide murder of three guests in the posh Bloxham Hotel in London. All three were found laid out as if at a funeral parlor — except that each, a man and two women, had a monogrammed cufflink in the mouth. The two women — Harriet Sippel and Ida Gransbury — live in the village of Great Holling; the third victim, Richard Negus, once lived in that same village and was the fiancé of Miss Gransbury until he broke off the engagement in 1913.
Earlier, Poirot had encountered a young housemaid named Jennie at a coffeehouse. Before fleeing, she predicts her own death and judges that her demise would be justice rather than murder. Despite Catchpool’s skepticism, Poirot insists that Jennie has a connection to the Bloxham Hotel murders. Want to bet who’s right on that one?
Why had they been killed? Poirot senses that the clues to the motive lie in Great Holling, and he dispatches Catchpool to snoop around there while Poirot tries to track down the elusive Jennie. Both discover quite a lot, but I won’t spoil the novel by saying any more.
Fair is fair, and The Monogram Murders should not be judged on whether it is pitch-perfect Agatha Christie — it clearly isn’t — but whether it is an enjoyable mystery. And there Sophie succeeds. No, the first Hercule Poirot novel since Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case was published in 1975 never comes close to Murder on the Orient Express, The A.B.C. Murders, The Labours of Hercules or The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. But, while a bit too clever by half — too convoluted to ring true, too broad in its portrayal of Hercule Poirot as a romantic, too implausible in its denouement — The Monogram Murders proved a suitable companion on a day when I was home sick as could be. And I’ve never been one to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.
Set in 1929, in The Monogram Murders, Hercule Poirot sets out to help the hopeless Scotland Yard detective Edward Catchpool (a clueless Captain Hastings stand-in) to investigate the cyanide murder of three guests in the posh Bloxham Hotel in London. All three were found laid out as if at a funeral parlor — except that each, a man and two women, had a monogrammed cufflink in the mouth. The two women — Harriet Sippel and Ida Gransbury — live in the village of Great Holling; the third victim, Richard Negus, once lived in that same village and was the fiancé of Miss Gransbury until he broke off the engagement in 1913.
Earlier, Poirot had encountered a young housemaid named Jennie at a coffeehouse. Before fleeing, she predicts her own death and judges that her demise would be justice rather than murder. Despite Catchpool’s skepticism, Poirot insists that Jennie has a connection to the Bloxham Hotel murders. Want to bet who’s right on that one?
Why had they been killed? Poirot senses that the clues to the motive lie in Great Holling, and he dispatches Catchpool to snoop around there while Poirot tries to track down the elusive Jennie. Both discover quite a lot, but I won’t spoil the novel by saying any more.
Fair is fair, and The Monogram Murders should not be judged on whether it is pitch-perfect Agatha Christie — it clearly isn’t — but whether it is an enjoyable mystery. And there Sophie succeeds. No, the first Hercule Poirot novel since Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case was published in 1975 never comes close to Murder on the Orient Express, The A.B.C. Murders, The Labours of Hercules or The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. But, while a bit too clever by half — too convoluted to ring true, too broad in its portrayal of Hercule Poirot as a romantic, too implausible in its denouement — The Monogram Murders proved a suitable companion on a day when I was home sick as could be. And I’ve never been one to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.
April 4, 2023
I would sell my soul to be friends with Hercule Poirot
August 5, 2016
A big fat puking spoiler coming this way. Beware.
I am furious and sad every time I write bad reviews. However, it is really important for me to find believable, attractive plot and characters (especially in a detective book). Agatha Christie's fabulous mysteries have plots that are tricky yet comprehensible. Her mysteries shine with grand simplicity. Sadly I didn’t find any in “The Monogram Murders”. This book is written by Sophie Hannah, who was inspired by Agatha Christie. The strangest thing is that S. Hannah got a permission to write this book and this book was approved by the Christie estate.
I'm not familiar with Sophie Hannah's other books. I just read that she writes crime fiction and she likes Agatha Christie a lot. This book is a labyrinth with crimes, secrets and murders, but instead of catching interest and engaging, it was a trouble for me to get out of it. Maybe the trouble is in me. I just couldn't find the real personality of Christie's famous Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, or her basic storytelling features
So let’s start from the beginning. Poirot meets a mysterious woman in a coffee house, who fears for her life. She talks strange stuff before disappearing into the night. It’s a good start except, for the real Christie fans, it’s obvious that Poirot enjoys sipping herbal tea, hot chocolate, creme de menthe or sirop de cassis, he has traveled a lot, he likes convenience and luxury, moreover he dislikes English food. And I found him sipping coffee and eating a beef chop and vermicelli souffle in a coffee house in a not wealthy part of London. It’s not all. Poirot is staying at a lodging house to rest from his work, he takes buses and he walks aimlessly. This is a really odd way to present Christie’s Poirot. Hannah’s Poirot has only Christie’s Poirot appearance.
Poirot is not the only one strange character. Scotland Yard policeman Catchpool, the most dull, miserable, glum and incompetent detective I’ve ever read. He is afraid of dead bodies, that is why he left the murder victims in the hotel unwatched for all the evening and night. Moreover he is the only one officer in the police, investigating the Monogram Murders. A shame for all Scotland Yard descriptions. He is dumb and definitely a dreary fellow. Oh, Captain Hastings, how I missed you! Hastings was not always understanding, but his relationship with Poirot was always charming, affectionate and friendly.
Poirot and Catchpool made an odd and not attractive pair of detectives. They seem not to like each other. Catchpool tries to match Hastings with his “magically” strange and incoherent remarks. The Poirot-Catchpool situation looks like a teacher tries to teach a hopeless student. It was nice with Hastings, but hopeless and quite irritating with Catchpool. Poirot even understates Catchpool.
There isn’t any clear and attractive description of the places, it never came alive to me, while reading (or torturing myself in other words. In case you didn’t know: Yes, I’m the masochistic type!) I felt like examining an unfinished painting. If there were no years mentioned, I wouldn’t guess that this book was meant to show the Poirot times. The biggest part of the explanations is extremely unlikely. Definitely no clarity or conviction. No Agatha Christie. It’s sad but for me the most interesting characters in the book were the three murder victims. There are clues of a kind in this book that seem inspired by Agatha Christie, but they are not carried off with the flamboyant confidence of style or manner, that I enjoyed reading AC mysteries. Maybe I’m narrow-minded due to the Christie stuff. But I like it so and I like Poirot in Christie’s style
I know that there will be another book about Poirot by Sophie Hannah and I really hope it to be one I really can enjoy reading.
July 25, 2024
Lunchtime Listen July 2024
Ok, now listening to this book, read by the wonderful Julian Rhind-Tutt, was different to obviously how i felt when I read the book. And I have to say at 9 hours out of the 11 I was thinking this could be up to 4 stars, and then… Well it just felt like Poirot was repeating the same things over and over. My wife even questioned if I’d accidentally gone back on the audiobook..
IN the end one of us actually used the words , “come on let’s just get this done” not encouraging eh ?
So Catchpool, I actually quite enjoyed, unlike when I read it according to my review below.
All of that said given I have the next two books on audiobooks, I will almost certainly continue the series as a Lunchtime Listen sometime soon
Ad hoc Read May 2019
Hmm I am gonna have to think more about the rating for this book as it’s a difficult decision
Before I write a proper review, suffice to say Poirot is spot on, Catchpool, agh 😱
Ok, here we go, I'm thinking by the end of me writing this review I will have finalised on a rating for this book. Sooo, its a good book, well written, an enjoyable Poirot novel, a believable Poirot novel, and for that I would give it 4 ⭐️. However, and there is certainly in my mind, a big however, Catchpool, Inspector of Scotland Yard. I have encountered a number of Christie's Police Detectives , and whilst some have been more enlightened than others, and some have been cleverer than others, none have been as feeble and ineffectual or even as stupid as Catchpool. Many moons ago I worked for the "Met" at the "Yard" and I cannot see how on earth Catchpool got promoted above Constable.
And this is the problem, yes there have been not so intelligent "foils" to our detective heroes, Watson and even Hastings, but they have all had some redeeming feature which allowed you to empathise with them, even love them, Catchpool, is a policeman and should know better. He shouldn't be this squeamish or useless. Yes some of the other police characters in Christie books, have not been the brightest sparks but they were dogged or demonstrated some other worthy characteristic that made them rise above the ordinary, again Catchpool, nothing, rien, nada, zilch, sweet Fanny Adams.
I really didn't like him.
So what does that mean for my review or rating of this book, I'm sorry but I fear it going to have to be just 3 ⭐️ which is a shame as Sophie Hannah has written a great Poirot story.
PS All of that said I will read the next Sophie Hannah Poirot as it was good
Ok, now listening to this book, read by the wonderful Julian Rhind-Tutt, was different to obviously how i felt when I read the book. And I have to say at 9 hours out of the 11 I was thinking this could be up to 4 stars, and then… Well it just felt like Poirot was repeating the same things over and over. My wife even questioned if I’d accidentally gone back on the audiobook..
IN the end one of us actually used the words , “come on let’s just get this done” not encouraging eh ?
So Catchpool, I actually quite enjoyed, unlike when I read it according to my review below.
All of that said given I have the next two books on audiobooks, I will almost certainly continue the series as a Lunchtime Listen sometime soon
Ad hoc Read May 2019
Hmm I am gonna have to think more about the rating for this book as it’s a difficult decision
Before I write a proper review, suffice to say Poirot is spot on, Catchpool, agh 😱
Ok, here we go, I'm thinking by the end of me writing this review I will have finalised on a rating for this book. Sooo, its a good book, well written, an enjoyable Poirot novel, a believable Poirot novel, and for that I would give it 4 ⭐️. However, and there is certainly in my mind, a big however, Catchpool, Inspector of Scotland Yard. I have encountered a number of Christie's Police Detectives , and whilst some have been more enlightened than others, and some have been cleverer than others, none have been as feeble and ineffectual or even as stupid as Catchpool. Many moons ago I worked for the "Met" at the "Yard" and I cannot see how on earth Catchpool got promoted above Constable.
And this is the problem, yes there have been not so intelligent "foils" to our detective heroes, Watson and even Hastings, but they have all had some redeeming feature which allowed you to empathise with them, even love them, Catchpool, is a policeman and should know better. He shouldn't be this squeamish or useless. Yes some of the other police characters in Christie books, have not been the brightest sparks but they were dogged or demonstrated some other worthy characteristic that made them rise above the ordinary, again Catchpool, nothing, rien, nada, zilch, sweet Fanny Adams.
I really didn't like him.
So what does that mean for my review or rating of this book, I'm sorry but I fear it going to have to be just 3 ⭐️ which is a shame as Sophie Hannah has written a great Poirot story.
PS All of that said I will read the next Sophie Hannah Poirot as it was good
September 13, 2014
This book was disappointing on every level. As a fan of Christie and Poirot, this was not true to either the spirit or talent of either. The plot was needlessly convoluted and nonsensical, lacking suspense but full of dumb contrivances to drag on the story for no good reason. The author attempted to recreate the magic of the Hastings/Watson style of narrator but the character she created, Catchpool, was so annoying it took away from my enjoyment of Poirot.
Poirot's new friend Catchpool is an incompetent Scotland Yard detective who was terrified of dead bodies due to some incoherent psychological trauma in his childhood and was actively reluctant to actually investigate the murder. I was so aggravated by him- a Scotland Yard detective with no skills in detection.
Why didn't Catchpool get the scandalous back story from the village constable? What was the point of waiting til tomorrow to hear it from Margaret? He never investigated anything, just waited around for people to tell him everything after pointless delays. At least Japp and even Hastings tried, however wrong-headedly, to figure things out. Catchpool was so uninterested and unmotivated he literally needed Poirot for everything.
I'm not against re-imaginings of classic characters by new writers, but this was a major FAIL.
Poirot's new friend Catchpool is an incompetent Scotland Yard detective who was terrified of dead bodies due to some incoherent psychological trauma in his childhood and was actively reluctant to actually investigate the murder. I was so aggravated by him- a Scotland Yard detective with no skills in detection.
Why didn't Catchpool get the scandalous back story from the village constable? What was the point of waiting til tomorrow to hear it from Margaret? He never investigated anything, just waited around for people to tell him everything after pointless delays. At least Japp and even Hastings tried, however wrong-headedly, to figure things out. Catchpool was so uninterested and unmotivated he literally needed Poirot for everything.
I'm not against re-imaginings of classic characters by new writers, but this was a major FAIL.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 9, 2016
As an Agatha Christie, and especially a Hercule Poirot, fan, I was excited to see a new Poirot mystery written. Sophie Hannah does a decent job developing a story and Poirot's character, but it is obvious to me that she is not Dame Christie, no one is.
In this mystery, three people appear to be murdered at London's Bloxham Hotel. Each of the three have a monogrammed cufflink in their mouth so to the casual observer, the murders must be linked as well. Poirot is in London at the time enjoying a sabbatical. With the help of his new sidekick Catchpool of Scotland Yard, he throws himself into solving this case.
The story was enjoyable to the end but did not read as quickly as a normal Christie book would, although Hannah does try to convey a similar language to us. Layers upon layers of the case peel off, and, of course, Poirot thanks to the use of his little gray cells is two steps ahead of the rest of us.
I read through to the end because I wanted to know how all of the details of the case pieced together like Catchpool's crossword puzzle. This is still a good mystery, just not up to par with Christie's masterpieces, and I would still recommend it to mystery readers; however, it left me wanting more, so I will have to read an actual Christie Poirot case sooner than later.
In this mystery, three people appear to be murdered at London's Bloxham Hotel. Each of the three have a monogrammed cufflink in their mouth so to the casual observer, the murders must be linked as well. Poirot is in London at the time enjoying a sabbatical. With the help of his new sidekick Catchpool of Scotland Yard, he throws himself into solving this case.
The story was enjoyable to the end but did not read as quickly as a normal Christie book would, although Hannah does try to convey a similar language to us. Layers upon layers of the case peel off, and, of course, Poirot thanks to the use of his little gray cells is two steps ahead of the rest of us.
I read through to the end because I wanted to know how all of the details of the case pieced together like Catchpool's crossword puzzle. This is still a good mystery, just not up to par with Christie's masterpieces, and I would still recommend it to mystery readers; however, it left me wanting more, so I will have to read an actual Christie Poirot case sooner than later.
September 11, 2014
Agatha Christie has always been my favourite author and I have to admit that I felt trepidation when I heard that there was to be a ‘new’ Poirot novel by another author. I have never read anything by Sophie Hannah but, to be honest, I knew that I would not be able to resist giving this a try, despite my disquiet at having another writer try to recreate Christie’s world. Having now read this, I feel that is both a better read than I expected, but it is certainly not a Poirot novel, even though it features his character. Obviously, it is a daunting task to write a book featuring such a beloved detective and it is something which probably should not have been attempted, but Hannah succeeds in some parts and fails in others.
In order to give Poirot a different setting and a new character to tell the story (and in effect replace Hastings) he is supposedly taking a rest. Having bizarrely told everyone he has left London, Poirot decamps to a boarding house literally across the road from where he lives, and where a detective from Scotland Yard is conveniently also living. Edward Catchpool is, like Hastings, rather naïve and needing guidance. This works better with an amateur than an actual detective. Catchpool has a strange aversion to bodies, which is unfortunate, as he has to investigate the murder of three people found poisoned at the Bloxham Hotel.
Meanwhile, Poirot has taken to visiting the Pleasant Coffee House, where his peaceful meal is disrupted by a woman, who rushes in a distressed state. When Poirot approaches to see whether he can help her, she says that nothing can be done to help her. Once she is dead, she tells him, justice will be done. When Poirot hears of Catchpool’s case, he feels the two events are linked and then joins up with helping the Scotland Yard detective solve the case – for which they have to go back into the past - to an event in a small village some years before.
Golden Age crime novels are something you either love or find unbelievable and, certainly, there are few modern crime books featuring the type of amateur detectives that proliferated in the books written in the period between the wars. Still, I am not sure whether I found Lord Peter Wimsey any less believable than Catchpool and his Scotland Yard. You do not even hear of any other members of the police force until well into the book. Catchpool literally runs from the crime scene and then allows Poirot to dictate to him without the author first setting up any kind of role in the investigation for him (no Japp to ask him along for example).
However, in many ways, the author provides a reasonable attempt at a Golden Age mystery; with a lot of plot twists and turns, a good setting and some interesting characters. Supposedly set in 1929, the modern world often slips in – as in when characters refer to the victims by their first name, when they would probably be more formal, for example – but this is much more a homage to Christie than an attempt to recreate her work. Hercule Poirot’s eyes may glitter and his ‘little grey cells’ work overtime, but this Poirot never speaks in his true voice and you never feel you are reading a ‘new’ Poirot novel. If I read enjoying the mystery for itself, it was a pleasant enough book. If I read imagining this was a new Poirot novel, it did not work for me. I am not sure, though, that any author could have pulled off a new Poirot. For me, the little Belgium detective, cannot exist in any other hands but Agatha Christie, who remains forever the Queen of Crime.
In order to give Poirot a different setting and a new character to tell the story (and in effect replace Hastings) he is supposedly taking a rest. Having bizarrely told everyone he has left London, Poirot decamps to a boarding house literally across the road from where he lives, and where a detective from Scotland Yard is conveniently also living. Edward Catchpool is, like Hastings, rather naïve and needing guidance. This works better with an amateur than an actual detective. Catchpool has a strange aversion to bodies, which is unfortunate, as he has to investigate the murder of three people found poisoned at the Bloxham Hotel.
Meanwhile, Poirot has taken to visiting the Pleasant Coffee House, where his peaceful meal is disrupted by a woman, who rushes in a distressed state. When Poirot approaches to see whether he can help her, she says that nothing can be done to help her. Once she is dead, she tells him, justice will be done. When Poirot hears of Catchpool’s case, he feels the two events are linked and then joins up with helping the Scotland Yard detective solve the case – for which they have to go back into the past - to an event in a small village some years before.
Golden Age crime novels are something you either love or find unbelievable and, certainly, there are few modern crime books featuring the type of amateur detectives that proliferated in the books written in the period between the wars. Still, I am not sure whether I found Lord Peter Wimsey any less believable than Catchpool and his Scotland Yard. You do not even hear of any other members of the police force until well into the book. Catchpool literally runs from the crime scene and then allows Poirot to dictate to him without the author first setting up any kind of role in the investigation for him (no Japp to ask him along for example).
However, in many ways, the author provides a reasonable attempt at a Golden Age mystery; with a lot of plot twists and turns, a good setting and some interesting characters. Supposedly set in 1929, the modern world often slips in – as in when characters refer to the victims by their first name, when they would probably be more formal, for example – but this is much more a homage to Christie than an attempt to recreate her work. Hercule Poirot’s eyes may glitter and his ‘little grey cells’ work overtime, but this Poirot never speaks in his true voice and you never feel you are reading a ‘new’ Poirot novel. If I read enjoying the mystery for itself, it was a pleasant enough book. If I read imagining this was a new Poirot novel, it did not work for me. I am not sure, though, that any author could have pulled off a new Poirot. For me, the little Belgium detective, cannot exist in any other hands but Agatha Christie, who remains forever the Queen of Crime.
September 17, 2014
Oh dear - my second review of a book I've given up on. And if you give up on a murder mystery, that really says something about the author's failure to make that mystery compelling.
I'm not going to go into great detail, because I struggled through only about half of this before losing the will to live. I don't blame the author for not reproducing Agatha Christie's style. She was a supreme genius of her own genre, and I think there would have been a place for 'fan fiction' set in the same universe and featuring some of the same characters, but well written in another style. Sadly, except on a superficial stylistic level, this is not well written. It's rambling, repetitious and filled with psychological and literal absurdities.
Poirot is woefully out of character, for a start. But that isn't even as annoying as the new detective the author has created as a part-narrator and foil for the famous Belgian. Catchpool has to be the most ludicrously ineffectual detective ever employed by the Metropolitan Police. What a wuss. Absolutely unbelievably, he comes over all faint and girlie and decides to leave a triple murder scene - bodies in situ - overnight while he goes and has a lie down with some smelling salts? I mean, what? Even in the 1920s I'm sure the Met had better scene of crime procedures in place than that. He continues to demonstrate no behaviour remotely commensurate with his supposed occupation as a professional policeman, appears to be accountable to no superior officers at Scotland Yard, and lets Poirot do everything. And he broods on some trivial childhood trauma about his dead grandfather - why did he not get over himself years ago, during his police training and early experiences on the job? Police officers see all sorts of horrors day to day - and he seems to be gay, which apparently is never made explicit. But if the author was saving that up for a startling revelation in some sequel, I won't be gasping in shock and horror.
I'm trying to analyse what it is that makes real Agatha Christie so clever and so readable, and contrast it to what we have here. One thing that occurred to me early on, while I was still giving the book a chance, is that often the murder itself (and Poirot's appearance) doesn't happen for many pages in. Sometimes, not until halfway through the book. Instead, we're introduced to the pool of suspects and the character who will before long become the murder victim. We get to know them and we're given reason to care about their fate. Here, a bunch of random people we've never heard of fetch up dead and I'm just not interested from the outset.
I'll give it two stars since I didn't read until the end. Maybe it got better, although other negative reviewers suggest that the 'solution' is absurd and unbelievable. But this one is going back to Audible, I'm afraid. I think I'll swap it for one of the real thing.
I'm not going to go into great detail, because I struggled through only about half of this before losing the will to live. I don't blame the author for not reproducing Agatha Christie's style. She was a supreme genius of her own genre, and I think there would have been a place for 'fan fiction' set in the same universe and featuring some of the same characters, but well written in another style. Sadly, except on a superficial stylistic level, this is not well written. It's rambling, repetitious and filled with psychological and literal absurdities.
Poirot is woefully out of character, for a start. But that isn't even as annoying as the new detective the author has created as a part-narrator and foil for the famous Belgian. Catchpool has to be the most ludicrously ineffectual detective ever employed by the Metropolitan Police. What a wuss. Absolutely unbelievably, he comes over all faint and girlie and decides to leave a triple murder scene - bodies in situ - overnight while he goes and has a lie down with some smelling salts? I mean, what? Even in the 1920s I'm sure the Met had better scene of crime procedures in place than that. He continues to demonstrate no behaviour remotely commensurate with his supposed occupation as a professional policeman, appears to be accountable to no superior officers at Scotland Yard, and lets Poirot do everything. And he broods on some trivial childhood trauma about his dead grandfather - why did he not get over himself years ago, during his police training and early experiences on the job? Police officers see all sorts of horrors day to day - and he seems to be gay, which apparently is never made explicit. But if the author was saving that up for a startling revelation in some sequel, I won't be gasping in shock and horror.
I'm trying to analyse what it is that makes real Agatha Christie so clever and so readable, and contrast it to what we have here. One thing that occurred to me early on, while I was still giving the book a chance, is that often the murder itself (and Poirot's appearance) doesn't happen for many pages in. Sometimes, not until halfway through the book. Instead, we're introduced to the pool of suspects and the character who will before long become the murder victim. We get to know them and we're given reason to care about their fate. Here, a bunch of random people we've never heard of fetch up dead and I'm just not interested from the outset.
I'll give it two stars since I didn't read until the end. Maybe it got better, although other negative reviewers suggest that the 'solution' is absurd and unbelievable. But this one is going back to Audible, I'm afraid. I think I'll swap it for one of the real thing.
March 10, 2016
Sophie Hannah has done a great job in recreating Hercule Poirot. Its an engaging mystery that is intricately plotted. Catchpool is the policeman helping Poirot in this story. At a Coffee House, Poirot encounters a terrified woman, Jennie, who confides that she will be murdered and that she will have deserved it!
At Bloxham Hotel, 3 bodies are discovered murdered, carefully arranged with an identical monogrammed cufflink in their mouths. Poirot is convinced there is a connection between these murders and Jennie. The investigation leads to a village where all the dead had lived and where there was a double suicide of the vicar and his wife. It transpires most in the village had hounded the vicar and cast slurs on his reputation. The novel has a fabulous array of colourful characters from a well known artist, Nancy to the dubious Samuel Kidd.
Sophie Hannah has handled this story and Hercule Poirot with aplomb and flair. She has written a compelling, twisted and gripping novel which kept me glued to the book. I hope she intends to write another! It is a great addition to the golden age of the detectives.
At Bloxham Hotel, 3 bodies are discovered murdered, carefully arranged with an identical monogrammed cufflink in their mouths. Poirot is convinced there is a connection between these murders and Jennie. The investigation leads to a village where all the dead had lived and where there was a double suicide of the vicar and his wife. It transpires most in the village had hounded the vicar and cast slurs on his reputation. The novel has a fabulous array of colourful characters from a well known artist, Nancy to the dubious Samuel Kidd.
Sophie Hannah has handled this story and Hercule Poirot with aplomb and flair. She has written a compelling, twisted and gripping novel which kept me glued to the book. I hope she intends to write another! It is a great addition to the golden age of the detectives.
December 11, 2016
I've been a long time fan of classic Agatha Christie mysteries and went into this reimagining of a character feeling like there was no way that these characters that we were already familiar with could stand up to Christie's portrayal of them.
Boy, was I wrong - and pleasantly so. I actually really, really enjoyed this book. The Monogram Murders is the story of a couple detectives in the heart of London who are faced with solving a case in which there are 3 bodies all found within the same hotel. The catch? They're all too similar. There's something fishy about it from the beginning, but as more and more clues are uncovered the more the picture begins to clear. It's not nearly as simple as once believed and, I have to say, I wasn't expecting the ending.
So why didn't I give it 5 stars? I'm used to Christie's characters being a bit long winded and condescending, and Hannah did a fantastic job of carrying that over. However, I felt like toward the end it was just a hashing and rehashing of clues that we already basically knew. It's a picky thing, but it really took away from an otherwise really great flow of story telling.
What did I think?: I really enjoyed The Monogram Murders and I thought that Hannah's ability to twist the story and make it into a truly complex tale really fascinating. I felt like I was there helping to piece together the puzzle and that made for an enjoyable read.
Who should read it?: If you're a fan of Agatha Christie's style writing, her characters, or her ability to create complex scenes, I can't imagine that you wouldn't love this one. Any mystery fan I believe would take delight in reading this.
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Boy, was I wrong - and pleasantly so. I actually really, really enjoyed this book. The Monogram Murders is the story of a couple detectives in the heart of London who are faced with solving a case in which there are 3 bodies all found within the same hotel. The catch? They're all too similar. There's something fishy about it from the beginning, but as more and more clues are uncovered the more the picture begins to clear. It's not nearly as simple as once believed and, I have to say, I wasn't expecting the ending.
So why didn't I give it 5 stars? I'm used to Christie's characters being a bit long winded and condescending, and Hannah did a fantastic job of carrying that over. However, I felt like toward the end it was just a hashing and rehashing of clues that we already basically knew. It's a picky thing, but it really took away from an otherwise really great flow of story telling.
What did I think?: I really enjoyed The Monogram Murders and I thought that Hannah's ability to twist the story and make it into a truly complex tale really fascinating. I felt like I was there helping to piece together the puzzle and that made for an enjoyable read.
Who should read it?: If you're a fan of Agatha Christie's style writing, her characters, or her ability to create complex scenes, I can't imagine that you wouldn't love this one. Any mystery fan I believe would take delight in reading this.
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October 24, 2014
Heavy handed. Clumsy. Overwritten. Unsubtle.
But the greatest sin is that it's boring.
Everything that Agatha Christie was most certainly not.
A travesty.
No.
That is all.
But the greatest sin is that it's boring.
Everything that Agatha Christie was most certainly not.
A travesty.
No.
That is all.
October 26, 2014
I really wanted to like this. I wanted to move past the initial premise of someone who was glaringly not Agatha Christie daring to casually revive M. Poirot like it's no big deal at all. (IT IS A MASSIVE DEAL BY THE WAY AND IT'S NOT EVEN ENDEARINGLY BALLSY) Anyway, what went wrong:
Catchpool
This was the worst example of a Scotland Yard detective (that we're supposed to like) that I have ever figuratively come across. He's shallow, lazy, demotivated and for no fucking good reason. There is no past struggle that makes him who he is or makes us hope/expect him to pick up pace later in the investigation. His narration is shoddy. He challenges Poirot like a fucking meat head even though he is proven wrong by the very same man every 3 pages. His exaggerated sense of British honor is so made up, it's almost comical. His interactions with people during investigations are weak, at best. At some point, all I could think of was that this half-assed character is just getting in the way of the investigation, adding pages upon pages of unnecessary explanations to things a child can grasp. Was this man an attempt at a younger Hastings? What Christie had, that this author clearly does not and that allowed for a slow investigator like Hastings, was a sense of humor.
Which brings us to
Fake Poirot
What a failed impersonation. This person is whiny, loud, persistent, almost vulgar and childish as fuck. He goes around withholding facts and forcing Catchpool to guess which is so fucking irritating. Poirot never taunted whatever side kick by withholding EVERY piece of information; this supposed Poirot rubs it in Catchpool's face and claims that he refuses to share so Catchpool might learn. In most Christie novels, Poirot withholds information from Hastings or whomever only once in the book and usually by the very end and it's not constantly alluded to as to appear forced and make Poirot so unlikable.
Excuse My French
The use of the French language is so contrived. It comes out of nowhere, to prove nothing beyond the fact that this author is trying to make it sound like Poirot; it's practically a mash-up of phrases from Christie's books and the series adaption with David Suchet except the author couldn't decide when to interject the sentences with French and how often to do so.sacré tonnerre alright.
What Plot?
The actual mystery is so poor. That is the only description I can come up with; it's just poor. The murder is so contrived, the reasons and motives are so unbelievable and the GIANT, EARTH CHATTERING past tragedy is so BANAL. I can't believe this shit.
The Last Scene
You know how in every Christie novel starring Poirot, there's this last scene /massive dressing down situation where Poirot gathers all the characters in the book in some dining room and gives it to them? You know how you await that scene and make bets with yourself that your suspicions are correct and that you are also a super cool criminal mind (albeit in bed, at home)? Yeah, in The Monogram Murders I actually took a pee break while reading that scene. THAT'S HOW CAPTIVATING IT WASN'T.
All in all, I think if the author had just stuck to her own characters and hadn't tried to recreate her idea of Poirot, then she might have actually had a chance at developing a better, stronger plot and maintaining a certain integrity to her personal writing style.
Catchpool
This was the worst example of a Scotland Yard detective (that we're supposed to like) that I have ever figuratively come across. He's shallow, lazy, demotivated and for no fucking good reason. There is no past struggle that makes him who he is or makes us hope/expect him to pick up pace later in the investigation. His narration is shoddy. He challenges Poirot like a fucking meat head even though he is proven wrong by the very same man every 3 pages. His exaggerated sense of British honor is so made up, it's almost comical. His interactions with people during investigations are weak, at best. At some point, all I could think of was that this half-assed character is just getting in the way of the investigation, adding pages upon pages of unnecessary explanations to things a child can grasp. Was this man an attempt at a younger Hastings? What Christie had, that this author clearly does not and that allowed for a slow investigator like Hastings, was a sense of humor.
Which brings us to
Fake Poirot
What a failed impersonation. This person is whiny, loud, persistent, almost vulgar and childish as fuck. He goes around withholding facts and forcing Catchpool to guess which is so fucking irritating. Poirot never taunted whatever side kick by withholding EVERY piece of information; this supposed Poirot rubs it in Catchpool's face and claims that he refuses to share so Catchpool might learn. In most Christie novels, Poirot withholds information from Hastings or whomever only once in the book and usually by the very end and it's not constantly alluded to as to appear forced and make Poirot so unlikable.
Excuse My French
The use of the French language is so contrived. It comes out of nowhere, to prove nothing beyond the fact that this author is trying to make it sound like Poirot; it's practically a mash-up of phrases from Christie's books and the series adaption with David Suchet except the author couldn't decide when to interject the sentences with French and how often to do so.sacré tonnerre alright.
What Plot?
The actual mystery is so poor. That is the only description I can come up with; it's just poor. The murder is so contrived, the reasons and motives are so unbelievable and the GIANT, EARTH CHATTERING past tragedy is so BANAL. I can't believe this shit.
The Last Scene
You know how in every Christie novel starring Poirot, there's this last scene /massive dressing down situation where Poirot gathers all the characters in the book in some dining room and gives it to them? You know how you await that scene and make bets with yourself that your suspicions are correct and that you are also a super cool criminal mind (albeit in bed, at home)? Yeah, in The Monogram Murders I actually took a pee break while reading that scene. THAT'S HOW CAPTIVATING IT WASN'T.
All in all, I think if the author had just stuck to her own characters and hadn't tried to recreate her idea of Poirot, then she might have actually had a chance at developing a better, stronger plot and maintaining a certain integrity to her personal writing style.
December 15, 2014
The Monogram Murders are solved, but I’m left with so many mysteries. So I’ll channel Poirot’s order and method, list my questions here, and hope this won’t deteriorate into just another fan rant. Unconcealed minor spoilers ahead:
1. Why, why Edward Catchpool? I know, I know – not original. But someone really needs to answer this. Most Christies, including iconic ones like Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile, are not narrated by Captain Hastings, so there are plenty of precedents for breaking the Golden Age convention of sidekick narrators. So why start this new series with one? Fans were sure to greet a new Poirot with some wariness, let alone a brand-new, infuriating Watson.
2. Where’s Japp? He’s not Scotland Yard’s brightest spark either, but at least he’s likable. He’s in Black Coffee, which is also set in 1929, and he’s Chief Inspector. Why wouldn’t he put himself in charge of a gruesome triple murder at one of London’s most fashionable hotels? Not credible.
3. What’s the point of the italicized refrain from Catchpool’s darkest memory, since he explains the whole thing in Chapter 4? This took up unnecessary pages and, with the immediacy of the murders and the lack of rapport between the two leads, created too noirish an atmosphere for a Christie mystery. Catchpool is too hung up on himself. Not good when you’re the new guy who has to prove himself to his associate’s fans.
4. Why must Poirot mention Hastings, late in the book and for a truly trivial reason? This just rubs salt deep into the wound.
5. Why did we get the entire sonnet? A poem is an invitation to analysis, and a sonnet has a dozen times the potency of ordinary verse. And a Shakespearean sonnet? My little grey cells fried themselves trying to figure out the couplet, when all I needed to get were the two words in the first quatrain. But my brain was all keyed up! It was going to solve the sonnet no matter how irrelevant all that iambic pentameter was!
6. Why Margaret Ernst? A great pantheon of Great Holling villagers could have taken Margaret’s place – dubious characters like Stoakley who could rival the “who’s who” of Christie’s St. Loo or King’s Abbot. Instead, most of the Great Hollingers we meet are dead or in London or hiding from Catchpool, or some combination of the three.
7. Is Ambrose Flowerday some kind of in-joke? Is Hannah having a laugh?
8. Why invite all of London to the dénouement? OK, not all of London, but it’s clearly not a high-security event or Fee Spring wouldn’t have got in. And it isn’t the only dénouement either. The second one is straight out of Midsomer Murders, which I love dearly but, here, is overkill – sorry for the pun.
9. Related question: Weren’t there so many italicized revelations that they seemed to be a parody of the real, endearingly over-the-top Christie hallmark? Ditto Poirot’s lapses into French.
10. Which is longer: the book or this list? A classic whodunit welcomes us into friendly competition with the sleuth, but this one was so convoluted it seemed to be trying to lose me. By the time Poirot’s celebrated cerebrum started to piece the puzzle together, I had pretty much given up. One does not want to have to write things down while reading a murder mystery.
The Bloxham might be a 5-star hotel, but its book needed to be heavily renovated to get the same rating from me. I know I’m not supposed to read it as an actual Christie, but Poirot is not just some James Bond. His creator’s style is inseparable from his appeal; it’s what makes the little egg-head what he is. Without it, it’s like imagining him being played by someone other than David Suchet! Sacré.
1. Why, why Edward Catchpool? I know, I know – not original. But someone really needs to answer this. Most Christies, including iconic ones like Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile, are not narrated by Captain Hastings, so there are plenty of precedents for breaking the Golden Age convention of sidekick narrators. So why start this new series with one? Fans were sure to greet a new Poirot with some wariness, let alone a brand-new, infuriating Watson.
2. Where’s Japp? He’s not Scotland Yard’s brightest spark either, but at least he’s likable. He’s in Black Coffee, which is also set in 1929, and he’s Chief Inspector. Why wouldn’t he put himself in charge of a gruesome triple murder at one of London’s most fashionable hotels? Not credible.
3. What’s the point of the italicized refrain from Catchpool’s darkest memory, since he explains the whole thing in Chapter 4? This took up unnecessary pages and, with the immediacy of the murders and the lack of rapport between the two leads, created too noirish an atmosphere for a Christie mystery. Catchpool is too hung up on himself. Not good when you’re the new guy who has to prove himself to his associate’s fans.
4. Why must Poirot mention Hastings, late in the book and for a truly trivial reason? This just rubs salt deep into the wound.
5. Why did we get the entire sonnet? A poem is an invitation to analysis, and a sonnet has a dozen times the potency of ordinary verse. And a Shakespearean sonnet? My little grey cells fried themselves trying to figure out the couplet, when all I needed to get were the two words in the first quatrain. But my brain was all keyed up! It was going to solve the sonnet no matter how irrelevant all that iambic pentameter was!
6. Why Margaret Ernst? A great pantheon of Great Holling villagers could have taken Margaret’s place – dubious characters like Stoakley who could rival the “who’s who” of Christie’s St. Loo or King’s Abbot. Instead, most of the Great Hollingers we meet are dead or in London or hiding from Catchpool, or some combination of the three.
7. Is Ambrose Flowerday some kind of in-joke? Is Hannah having a laugh?
8. Why invite all of London to the dénouement? OK, not all of London, but it’s clearly not a high-security event or Fee Spring wouldn’t have got in. And it isn’t the only dénouement either. The second one is straight out of Midsomer Murders, which I love dearly but, here, is overkill – sorry for the pun.
9. Related question: Weren’t there so many italicized revelations that they seemed to be a parody of the real, endearingly over-the-top Christie hallmark? Ditto Poirot’s lapses into French.
10. Which is longer: the book or this list? A classic whodunit welcomes us into friendly competition with the sleuth, but this one was so convoluted it seemed to be trying to lose me. By the time Poirot’s celebrated cerebrum started to piece the puzzle together, I had pretty much given up. One does not want to have to write things down while reading a murder mystery.
The Bloxham might be a 5-star hotel, but its book needed to be heavily renovated to get the same rating from me. I know I’m not supposed to read it as an actual Christie, but Poirot is not just some James Bond. His creator’s style is inseparable from his appeal; it’s what makes the little egg-head what he is. Without it, it’s like imagining him being played by someone other than David Suchet! Sacré.
April 14, 2022
3.5 stars - While I'm not convinced of this as a continuance of Christie, I did really enjoy this as a true whodunnit set in the Golden Age of Crime. I'll try more in the series
January 27, 2016
"One cannot do such harm to another and not wound one's own soul in the process."
I'm leery of novels that seek to continue a series after an author is dead.
This book is the first book to be sanctioned by the Christie Estate, granting permission for Sophie Hannah to continue the adventures of one Hercule Poirot.
The book's plot is batshit crazy. I found myself racking my brain trying desperately to remember if Christie's murder plots were usually so amazingly insane.
I mean, the plot to this - and by that I mean the murders, how the were committed, by whom, and why - was completely ludicrous. To the point where I was side-eyeing the book and telling it dryly - "You MUST be joking."
Whether you can overlook this insanity or not is your own affair.
Not only is the murder plot increasingly BSC with every page, but Catchpool - Poirot's new Hastings stand-in - is really fucked up in the head due to Now. I understand that in 1929 the requirements for being a cop might have been a little more lax than they are today. However, I find it too much a strain on my imagination to believe that a man who has deep and far-reaching problems with corpses (such as being unable to look directly at one, definitely incapable of TOUCHING one) and also who also has a deep-seated prejudice that all murderers are going to be snarling ruffians, and inability to believe anyone who is "nice" could lie or even do worse things like commit murder, and who completely cannot deal with women who are crying and will say and do anything to shut them up - would end up an Inspector in Scotland Yard.
To sum up: BSC mystery; Scotland Yard Inspector who seems very ill-equipped to do any kind of police work, partly from being a soft touch and partly stemming from , difficult as that may be for any reader to believe.
There's a lot of difficult-to-swallow things in this story, is what I'm saying.
As far as the other questions go:
Is this a good mystery?
Good, as in what? Hard to solve? Oh, it's definitely hard to solve. Good as in makes sense? No, it's BSC. I've told you a million times. BSC!
The author attempts to get you to believe that people are doing/did the most RIDICULOUS stuff. The weirdest things. You will be like, "WTF?" You will be like, "Come on, now. You can't expect me to BELIEVE that?!?!"
Is it written in the style of Christie?
Sigh. No one is going to ever be Christie. There was only one Christie, and she's dead.
However, Hannah does a great job with Poirot - his character, while predictable for anyone who knows him, is on-point. And predictable (as far as character studies) is probably exactly what the Christie Estate is aiming for, here. They don't really want Hannah to bring anything new to the table. They want a near-indistinguishable rehash of Christie's most salient traits.
If that is what they asked for, Hannah definitely delivers. We have all the tropes. Poirot's fastidiousness. His little grey cells.Hasting's Catchpool's idiocy and inability to catch even the most glaring problems in witnesses accounts. Poirot being a stubborn taskmaster who refuses to tell Hastings Catchpool anything because he wants him to "think for himself." Catchpool alternating between thinking Poirot is a loon and thinking he's a genius. The book ending with Catchpool falling in awe at the feet of the great master. You know. The usual. Bringing every single person who ever appeared in the novel for even the most split of seconds into a big room so Poirot can make a long speech and a big reveal. Etc.
How is Hannah's writing?
Good, mostly good. Occasionally she loses the thread:
Walking once again into Negus's hotel room felt like forcing my heart to climb the most perilous mountain, in the certain knowledge that it would be left stranded as it reached the top.
Sometimes she delivers.
I learned that day that I am not afraid of death. It is a state that contains no energy; it exerts no force.
and
"It's not his fault," said Poirot with a wave of his hand. "He is English. You English would sit by in polite silence while every species of avoidable disaster takes place in front of your eyes rather than make the social lapse of being seen to interfere!"
But mostly it's just humdrum and bordering on overdramatic.
Tl;dr - Read this if you crave more Christie. Hannah certainly captures Poirot's Poirot-ness, and if this makes you rejoice, bon. But if it makes you despair that now Poirot can never change and grow because people will always be holding him forcefully in the past (his creator is dead, they want him to stay "true" to her "vision"), then avoid this.
Is it like Christie? Probably enough that you will enjoy it if you want to. But no, no one is like Christie.
The murders and their surrounding elements are completely insane. I mean... really, really unbelievably weird. However, that might bother some people more than others.
Catchpool is to be pitied, but that's nothing new, I guess. You'll wonder how he can be such a complete moron.
A re-hash, but that's what they were going for, I believe.
I'm leery of novels that seek to continue a series after an author is dead.
This book is the first book to be sanctioned by the Christie Estate, granting permission for Sophie Hannah to continue the adventures of one Hercule Poirot.
The book's plot is batshit crazy. I found myself racking my brain trying desperately to remember if Christie's murder plots were usually so amazingly insane.
I mean, the plot to this - and by that I mean the murders, how the were committed, by whom, and why - was completely ludicrous. To the point where I was side-eyeing the book and telling it dryly - "You MUST be joking."
Whether you can overlook this insanity or not is your own affair.
Not only is the murder plot increasingly BSC with every page, but Catchpool - Poirot's new Hastings stand-in - is really fucked up in the head due to Now. I understand that in 1929 the requirements for being a cop might have been a little more lax than they are today. However, I find it too much a strain on my imagination to believe that a man who has deep and far-reaching problems with corpses (such as being unable to look directly at one, definitely incapable of TOUCHING one) and also who also has a deep-seated prejudice that all murderers are going to be snarling ruffians, and inability to believe anyone who is "nice" could lie or even do worse things like commit murder, and who completely cannot deal with women who are crying and will say and do anything to shut them up - would end up an Inspector in Scotland Yard.
To sum up: BSC mystery; Scotland Yard Inspector who seems very ill-equipped to do any kind of police work, partly from being a soft touch and partly stemming from , difficult as that may be for any reader to believe.
There's a lot of difficult-to-swallow things in this story, is what I'm saying.
As far as the other questions go:
Is this a good mystery?
Good, as in what? Hard to solve? Oh, it's definitely hard to solve. Good as in makes sense? No, it's BSC. I've told you a million times. BSC!
The author attempts to get you to believe that people are doing/did the most RIDICULOUS stuff. The weirdest things. You will be like, "WTF?" You will be like, "Come on, now. You can't expect me to BELIEVE that?!?!"
Is it written in the style of Christie?
Sigh. No one is going to ever be Christie. There was only one Christie, and she's dead.
However, Hannah does a great job with Poirot - his character, while predictable for anyone who knows him, is on-point. And predictable (as far as character studies) is probably exactly what the Christie Estate is aiming for, here. They don't really want Hannah to bring anything new to the table. They want a near-indistinguishable rehash of Christie's most salient traits.
If that is what they asked for, Hannah definitely delivers. We have all the tropes. Poirot's fastidiousness. His little grey cells.
How is Hannah's writing?
Good, mostly good. Occasionally she loses the thread:
Walking once again into Negus's hotel room felt like forcing my heart to climb the most perilous mountain, in the certain knowledge that it would be left stranded as it reached the top.
Sometimes she delivers.
I learned that day that I am not afraid of death. It is a state that contains no energy; it exerts no force.
and
"It's not his fault," said Poirot with a wave of his hand. "He is English. You English would sit by in polite silence while every species of avoidable disaster takes place in front of your eyes rather than make the social lapse of being seen to interfere!"
But mostly it's just humdrum and bordering on overdramatic.
Tl;dr - Read this if you crave more Christie. Hannah certainly captures Poirot's Poirot-ness, and if this makes you rejoice, bon. But if it makes you despair that now Poirot can never change and grow because people will always be holding him forcefully in the past (his creator is dead, they want him to stay "true" to her "vision"), then avoid this.
Is it like Christie? Probably enough that you will enjoy it if you want to. But no, no one is like Christie.
The murders and their surrounding elements are completely insane. I mean... really, really unbelievably weird. However, that might bother some people more than others.
Catchpool is to be pitied, but that's nothing new, I guess. You'll wonder how he can be such a complete moron.
A re-hash, but that's what they were going for, I believe.
March 31, 2015
I was obviously not expecting this book to read like a real Christie, and I was not expecting a pitch perfect Poirot. However, I did not expect that this book was going to be actually terrible. The lack of any real period atmosphere, the cardboard cutout Poirot, the incredibly clunky storytelling, the absolutely idiotic narrator, and the nonsensical, overly complicated, and totally unbelievable mystery and solving by Poirot, who jumps to extreme conclusions more ridiculously than Christie's Poirot (usually) ever did, all while leaving out huge gaps from the reader in a way Christie never needed to; this book went wrong in too many places to be redeemable. Arguably, several of these elements are present in Christie's mysteries from time to time, but they're usually still so enjoyable you don't notice, unlike here. I went into this with low expectations - I mean, I don't think anyone would think Agatha could really be imitated - but I didn't expect it to be such a waste of time.
August 16, 2021
This Hercule Poirot mystery, written by Sophie Hannah, emulates the style of Agatha Christie. As the story opens Poirot is enjoying a meal at Pleasant's Coffee House in London when an agitated woman rushes in.
Poirot soon makes her acquaintance, learning that her name is Jennie and that she believes she'll soon be killed - and that she deserves to die. Later that night three people are found dead in three separate rooms of the ritzy Bloxham Hotel, each body neatly laid out with a monogrammed cufflink in his/her mouth.
Poirot, concerned that the deaths are somehow connected with Jennie, investigates with Scotland Yard Inspector Edward Catchpool (who narrates the story in the style of Poirot's old sidekick Captain Hastings.)
Poirot soon learns that all the victims are from the village of Great Holling and are well acquainted with each other. As the investigation proceeds Poirot talks to many witnesses, including the staff of the coffee house and hotel. He also dispatches Catchpool to talk to the residents of Great Holling.
However, though Catchpool gleans some useful information, he's a lot like Captain Hastings - a rather dim chap who functions mostly as a character for Poirot to bounce thoughts off.
The story has lots of characters, including the waitresses of Pleasant's Coffee House, the manager and employees of the Bloxham Hotel, and numerous citizens of Great Holling - who are reluctant to talk to Catchpool. Nevertheless the Scotland Yard detective discovers that something terrible happened fifteen years ago that led to the current deaths. I won't say more to avoid spoilers.
In typical Christie style Poirot figures out what happened and assembles the usual suspects to explain everything and reveal the perpetrator.
Unfortunately Hannah doesn't really capture Christie's writing style and the story feels dragged out. Worse yet it leads to a denouement that's contorted, labored, and not believable. In short the book doesn't feel like a 'real' Agatha Christie and I wouldn't recommend it.
You can follow my reviews at http://reviewsbybarbsaffer.blogspot.com/
January 24, 2021
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
I've only read the first 10% of this book because my brain was basically screaming for help by the time it took me to get there, and I happen to be kind of fond of my brain. If you think that's too little for me to be entitled to an opinion, I can see where you come from and you have my apologies. All the same, I'm going to say what I think. If it offends you, scroll down and read the next review.
I have no idea why this thing was even written. I know for a fact that Sophie Hannah didn't intend to mimic Agatha Christie's style, and that's understandable, even though if I was in her shoes and that was my intention to begin with, I probably would have chosen to write something else altogether. Besides my not seeing the point, anyway, a personal choice is a personal choice, so let's not take into account the fact that the writing doesn't feel like Christie's at all.
But how about Poirot not feeling like Poirot? I bet that's a bit more difficult to explain, isn't it? Because seriously, I have no idea who this guy is. And one would think that I would recognize him, after reading 30 books with him in them. (The original ones, of course. I'm not going to pick up Hanna's other Poirot book after this, even though I've already bought it.) Everything about Hannah's version of Poirot is just so off. Like one moment when it's said something along the lines that Poirot was enjoying anonymity when in truth he gets super offended when people don't recognize his name. I'm not saying he would never do that or that it isn't possible that Christie herself wrote a line like this in some novel or short story (I highly doubt that, but I have no eidetic memory and haven't read all of Poirot's adventures yet; you never know); I'm only saying that to someone who is rather well acquainted with Poirot aka The Adorable Egg-Head, that sounds off, especially if it's like the very first thing you throw in your readers' face to characterize your main character.
Another annoying thing was how every paragraph read like useless info-dump. The thirty pages I've read could have been, like, fifteen and only gain from the cut. This is especially valid from chapter 2 onwards, when Catchpool makes his appearance. He is a homicide detective. But dead bodies make him sick. Also, I believe his middle name is Simona-doesn't-care.
I abandoned this book because I couldn't stand to read it anymore, but I also abandoned it because, what's the point? There still something like six Poirot original novels which I haven't read yet and can experience for the first time, and even after that's done, I can always go back and reread the ones I don't remember very well. I'm not nearly as desperate as it takes to suffer through... this. And I bet none of you is either.
I've only read the first 10% of this book because my brain was basically screaming for help by the time it took me to get there, and I happen to be kind of fond of my brain. If you think that's too little for me to be entitled to an opinion, I can see where you come from and you have my apologies. All the same, I'm going to say what I think. If it offends you, scroll down and read the next review.
I have no idea why this thing was even written. I know for a fact that Sophie Hannah didn't intend to mimic Agatha Christie's style, and that's understandable, even though if I was in her shoes and that was my intention to begin with, I probably would have chosen to write something else altogether. Besides my not seeing the point, anyway, a personal choice is a personal choice, so let's not take into account the fact that the writing doesn't feel like Christie's at all.
But how about Poirot not feeling like Poirot? I bet that's a bit more difficult to explain, isn't it? Because seriously, I have no idea who this guy is. And one would think that I would recognize him, after reading 30 books with him in them. (The original ones, of course. I'm not going to pick up Hanna's other Poirot book after this, even though I've already bought it.) Everything about Hannah's version of Poirot is just so off. Like one moment when it's said something along the lines that Poirot was enjoying anonymity when in truth he gets super offended when people don't recognize his name. I'm not saying he would never do that or that it isn't possible that Christie herself wrote a line like this in some novel or short story (I highly doubt that, but I have no eidetic memory and haven't read all of Poirot's adventures yet; you never know); I'm only saying that to someone who is rather well acquainted with Poirot aka The Adorable Egg-Head, that sounds off, especially if it's like the very first thing you throw in your readers' face to characterize your main character.
Another annoying thing was how every paragraph read like useless info-dump. The thirty pages I've read could have been, like, fifteen and only gain from the cut. This is especially valid from chapter 2 onwards, when Catchpool makes his appearance. He is a homicide detective. But dead bodies make him sick. Also, I believe his middle name is Simona-doesn't-care.
I abandoned this book because I couldn't stand to read it anymore, but I also abandoned it because, what's the point? There still something like six Poirot original novels which I haven't read yet and can experience for the first time, and even after that's done, I can always go back and reread the ones I don't remember very well. I'm not nearly as desperate as it takes to suffer through... this. And I bet none of you is either.
September 14, 2014
Disappointing :( I so wanted this book to whisk me back to Poirot heaven! Wasn't to be! The first chapter which was released earlier than the book seemed promising enough and yet the book let me down. I must admit at the outset though that I ADORE Poirot as Christie created him and so am definitely biased in my views!
The mystery itself was not too bad...but the rambling nature of the narrative especially toward the end was extremely irritating. Also...what is with Inspector Catchpool? Why is he even in Scotland Yard? He has no meaningful contributions to make and doesn't even use the Yard's resources to solve the mystery. He's obsessed by a dark childhood memory which I found frankly pathetic and nowhere near as traumatic as the author would have me believe...if Hannah wanted to give him a crutch, she should at least have given him a good one! Christie would have! The only character I liked in the book and was sorry to see so little of was 'Fee'- she at least showed some spirit! The only part where I felt Hannah was comfortable was when she was describing the village of Great Holling and the events that occurred there. Otherwise for the most part, it felt like this wasn't quite the right fit of author and subject. Sad that :(
And my beloved Poirot...he 'was' but 'wasn't quite', if you get my meaning. It was like he was hovering on the author's consciousness but never fully materialised. And no sirop de cassis?!! Coffee instead? Sacrilege! :P The interaction between Catchpool and Poirot is not a patch on the friendship between Hastings and Poirot or even the witty rivalry between Japp and Poirot! Those felt real and authentic, this one feels contrived and foisted...I can only blame the poor characterisations for this. A pity really...such an easy problem to fix. I haven't read Hannah before and I'm unlikely to read her other work now given this book.
I hope they don't continue with this experiment...or if they do...I hope Hannah decides to get rid of Catchpool and bring back Hastings or at least Ms. Lemon - both perfect foils to Poirot. One great thing though, this book made me appreciate Christie's genius once again - Fervently!
The mystery itself was not too bad...but the rambling nature of the narrative especially toward the end was extremely irritating. Also...what is with Inspector Catchpool? Why is he even in Scotland Yard? He has no meaningful contributions to make and doesn't even use the Yard's resources to solve the mystery. He's obsessed by a dark childhood memory which I found frankly pathetic and nowhere near as traumatic as the author would have me believe...if Hannah wanted to give him a crutch, she should at least have given him a good one! Christie would have! The only character I liked in the book and was sorry to see so little of was 'Fee'- she at least showed some spirit! The only part where I felt Hannah was comfortable was when she was describing the village of Great Holling and the events that occurred there. Otherwise for the most part, it felt like this wasn't quite the right fit of author and subject. Sad that :(
And my beloved Poirot...he 'was' but 'wasn't quite', if you get my meaning. It was like he was hovering on the author's consciousness but never fully materialised. And no sirop de cassis?!! Coffee instead? Sacrilege! :P The interaction between Catchpool and Poirot is not a patch on the friendship between Hastings and Poirot or even the witty rivalry between Japp and Poirot! Those felt real and authentic, this one feels contrived and foisted...I can only blame the poor characterisations for this. A pity really...such an easy problem to fix. I haven't read Hannah before and I'm unlikely to read her other work now given this book.
I hope they don't continue with this experiment...or if they do...I hope Hannah decides to get rid of Catchpool and bring back Hastings or at least Ms. Lemon - both perfect foils to Poirot. One great thing though, this book made me appreciate Christie's genius once again - Fervently!
December 5, 2014
“It is the brain, the little gray cells on which one must rely. One must seek the truth within--not without." ~ Poirot
Hercule Poirot returns to life, 38years after being killed off by his creator, Agatha Christie in Curtain, in Sophie Hannah's new book, The Monogram Murders, who is the bestselling writer of contemporary psychological crime thrillers.
That short-height, Belgian man with a mustache, who trusts in his gray cells more than what he is made to believe in, is back with a fresh new adventure in London. But unfortunately, Poirot's new leash of life simple left me disappointed. I was jumping with joy, when I got the opportunity to read this book, but unfortunately it failed my excitement and anticipation.
Synopsis:
Poirot runs into a woman in a coffee parlor who confides in him that her life is in danger and that he should not look for the killer, when three guests are murdered in the most posh and reputable hotel in London. And all three were murdered in the similar fashion- poisoned to death and a monogram signed as "PIJ" is put between their lips. Scotland Yard investigator, Catchpool and Poirot jumps into the scene and starts building the puzzle which left everyone shocked and scared to death. Who is this woman in the coffee shop? And why continuously Poirot's mind is bugging with this mysterious woman's whereabouts? Will she be the fourth one to be murdered?
From the blurb itself, the book sounds compelling, but once I started reading, I found my mind diverting away a lot of times. Well honestly, the book started very poorly, Poirot didn't strike me with his remarkable demeanor. The characters were well-developed, also the mystery was very brilliantly unfolded. But after reading so many Christie's book, I was expecting the book to be one of her creation, and that was my mistake! Remember, this is not Agatha Christie's book, this book is written by Sophie Hannah, so don't expect it to turn out to be another Agatha Christie novel.
The plot is a complete pot-boiler, millions of twists and turns which will leave your brain more twisted if you try to build the puzzle, so guys leave it to Poirot, he will guide you with his brilliance to the end of the complicated maze. Poirot's charm is unmatchable but still the author has captured it quite vividly. The best news is that Poirot is back, and I think he is going to stay around a bit by surprising us with new adventures.
Although I never read any of Sophie's books before, but I think her writing is quite crisp and emphatic and I will not compare her with Christie. Sophie has got some aura in her chosen words to pen down the tale and also her narration is very articulate. The huge cast of characters that Sophie has created is tastefully spun and their depth was eventually unrolled with the progress of the plot.
Such a grueling plot is hard to miss, but then again people are judging this book based on Agatha Christie's Poirot. Oui! But this is entirely Sophie's creation and she has successfully delivered her key character to her readers.
The cons would be at times, I felt I could not connect with the plot. Also at some places, I felt like I was losing interest due to introduction of too many unnecessary details. The book could have easily been made much shorter and some scenes and events could be easily avoided from the plot! Yeah! Boring Alert! at least in more than 10 chapters.
Read this intriguing book, if you merely enjoy reading a good detective novel. But if you are reading with hope that you might find Christie's once remarkable and notorious character Hercule Poirot then you can easily give this book a miss!
Courtesy:
Thanks to the author, Sophie Hannah, for giving me the opportunity to read and review her book.
Hercule Poirot returns to life, 38years after being killed off by his creator, Agatha Christie in Curtain, in Sophie Hannah's new book, The Monogram Murders, who is the bestselling writer of contemporary psychological crime thrillers.
That short-height, Belgian man with a mustache, who trusts in his gray cells more than what he is made to believe in, is back with a fresh new adventure in London. But unfortunately, Poirot's new leash of life simple left me disappointed. I was jumping with joy, when I got the opportunity to read this book, but unfortunately it failed my excitement and anticipation.
Synopsis:
Poirot runs into a woman in a coffee parlor who confides in him that her life is in danger and that he should not look for the killer, when three guests are murdered in the most posh and reputable hotel in London. And all three were murdered in the similar fashion- poisoned to death and a monogram signed as "PIJ" is put between their lips. Scotland Yard investigator, Catchpool and Poirot jumps into the scene and starts building the puzzle which left everyone shocked and scared to death. Who is this woman in the coffee shop? And why continuously Poirot's mind is bugging with this mysterious woman's whereabouts? Will she be the fourth one to be murdered?
From the blurb itself, the book sounds compelling, but once I started reading, I found my mind diverting away a lot of times. Well honestly, the book started very poorly, Poirot didn't strike me with his remarkable demeanor. The characters were well-developed, also the mystery was very brilliantly unfolded. But after reading so many Christie's book, I was expecting the book to be one of her creation, and that was my mistake! Remember, this is not Agatha Christie's book, this book is written by Sophie Hannah, so don't expect it to turn out to be another Agatha Christie novel.
The plot is a complete pot-boiler, millions of twists and turns which will leave your brain more twisted if you try to build the puzzle, so guys leave it to Poirot, he will guide you with his brilliance to the end of the complicated maze. Poirot's charm is unmatchable but still the author has captured it quite vividly. The best news is that Poirot is back, and I think he is going to stay around a bit by surprising us with new adventures.
Although I never read any of Sophie's books before, but I think her writing is quite crisp and emphatic and I will not compare her with Christie. Sophie has got some aura in her chosen words to pen down the tale and also her narration is very articulate. The huge cast of characters that Sophie has created is tastefully spun and their depth was eventually unrolled with the progress of the plot.
Such a grueling plot is hard to miss, but then again people are judging this book based on Agatha Christie's Poirot. Oui! But this is entirely Sophie's creation and she has successfully delivered her key character to her readers.
The cons would be at times, I felt I could not connect with the plot. Also at some places, I felt like I was losing interest due to introduction of too many unnecessary details. The book could have easily been made much shorter and some scenes and events could be easily avoided from the plot! Yeah! Boring Alert! at least in more than 10 chapters.
Read this intriguing book, if you merely enjoy reading a good detective novel. But if you are reading with hope that you might find Christie's once remarkable and notorious character Hercule Poirot then you can easily give this book a miss!
Courtesy:
Thanks to the author, Sophie Hannah, for giving me the opportunity to read and review her book.
April 10, 2021
Ik heb naar dit boek geluisterd en het zat vol fouten, verbeteringen en halve zinnen, dat leest al niet fijn. Maar ik vond het verhaal ook te rommelig, veel namen en een plot waar de draad maar moeilijk van vast te houden was.
I have listened to this book and it was full of errors, corrections and half sentences, that is not easy to read. But I also found the story too messy, lots of names and a plot that was difficult to hold on to.
I have listened to this book and it was full of errors, corrections and half sentences, that is not easy to read. But I also found the story too messy, lots of names and a plot that was difficult to hold on to.
February 6, 2017
Much better than the second one, Closed Casket. The second half made the book intersting. This one was quite close to Christie's writing.
April 18, 2017
شكرا للكاتبة على المحاولة البسيطة في عودة الرجل البلجيكي
محاسن القوة في الرواية
النهاية التي تكشف إن القاتل شخص غير متوقع
مكامن الضعف
طول الاحداث والتفاصيل
محاولة محاكاة شخصية بوارو الكوميدية ولكنها لم تنجح
لكن بشكل عام استمتعت
محاسن القوة في الرواية
النهاية التي تكشف إن القاتل شخص غير متوقع
مكامن الضعف
طول الاحداث والتفاصيل
محاولة محاكاة شخصية بوارو الكوميدية ولكنها لم تنجح
لكن بشكل عام استمتعت
October 9, 2019
When I read that there is going to be a brand new Hercule Poirot mystery in the best tradition of Agatha Christie, I was excited. I grabbed it the moment I saw it in the bookshop, and started reading right away in spite of having a whole bunch of other books going at the same time. Written by Sophie Hannah, the book is based in 1929 with Poirot as the main detective. To assist him as the sidekick, there is a new character called Edward Catchpool, who is a police officer. No other characters have been taken from the Christie world, sadly.
First, I need to rant about Edward Catchpool. Here, we have a policeman who is not just scared of dead bodies, he also hates questioning people. But it begins to border on absurdity when it is revealed that he could not bear to analyse the murder or even talk about it, nor does he like to suspect people of murder. To round up this ridiculous character nicely, the author has depicted that people are somehow able to evade him when he wants to question them in pursuance of his duties! It makes him sad and morose that people are avoiding him. WTF? Is he a policeman or not? Instead of making his presence felt and using various interrogation techniques to get people to talk to him, he spends almost all his time feeling sorry for himself. The man has a childhood “trauma”, which is actually quite laughable and completely irrelevant. What’s more, Catchpool allows Poirot to completely take over the investigation without (1) trusting in him. Japp always let him have his way because he trusted Poirot; (2) doing his own police work. Really, which policeman won’t even follow basic police procedures? From Lestrade to Japp, all sidekick policemen DID THEIR EFFING JOB, even if they couldn’t actually find the solution. The man can’t even pack a suitcase!!! Reviving Japp or even Hastings would have been a much better idea than creating this blubbering, stupid, supremely lacking in confidence mess.
The author’s depiction of Poirot leaves a lot to be desired. She makes a lot of elementary mistakes in depicting his character. Why is Poirot such a coffee fan? Where is the crème de menthe, the sirop de cassis, the tisane or even the ordinary tea? Though there is a mention of the famous ‘order and method’ in the first chapter, it is never mentioned or shown again in the rest of the book. Poirot would never, and I mean, NEVER go out in the cold for thoughtful walk! He is quite irritable and starts screaming at people, quite unlike the real Poirot. And who ever heard of Poirot taking rest in a boarding house, of all the places? No, this was not Poirot, but an inferior specimen. An imposter!
The book does not have the feel of an Agatha Christie book. The two main ways in which this book differs from a traditional Poirot book is (i) the background story is not explored in detail. The story starts with the murder and Poirot instead of with the stories of the other characters, and (ii) it is too long. The book is long-winded and boring, unlike AC’s crisp and to-the-point stories. There are glimpses of 1929, but for the most part, the action could have taken place in any period. There is none of the charm of the AC books. The characterisation is pretty bad, and other than Fee Spring, no other character really comes alive.
The plot is convoluted and rather unbelievable. There are a number of plot holes, but I won’t mention them here, for obvious reasons. Suffice to say that people don’t really behave in this manner. Hannah should have stuck to the main AC theory that people usually commit murder for gain, and she would have done much better. The final denouement took place for over a hundred pages and was quite ridiculous. I still don’t get the point of this story. Until the denouement part, the book was bearable and quite interesting in parts, but it degenerated into a sloppy mess in the last 100 pages.
Agatha Christie was always going to be a hard act to follow, but this book is miserably lacking in providing even basic Poirot-like material. I am amazed that the Agatha Christie Foundation agreed to the publication of this book. Mr Prichard, your grandmother is spinning in her grave.
First, I need to rant about Edward Catchpool. Here, we have a policeman who is not just scared of dead bodies, he also hates questioning people. But it begins to border on absurdity when it is revealed that he could not bear to analyse the murder or even talk about it, nor does he like to suspect people of murder. To round up this ridiculous character nicely, the author has depicted that people are somehow able to evade him when he wants to question them in pursuance of his duties! It makes him sad and morose that people are avoiding him. WTF? Is he a policeman or not? Instead of making his presence felt and using various interrogation techniques to get people to talk to him, he spends almost all his time feeling sorry for himself. The man has a childhood “trauma”, which is actually quite laughable and completely irrelevant. What’s more, Catchpool allows Poirot to completely take over the investigation without (1) trusting in him. Japp always let him have his way because he trusted Poirot; (2) doing his own police work. Really, which policeman won’t even follow basic police procedures? From Lestrade to Japp, all sidekick policemen DID THEIR EFFING JOB, even if they couldn’t actually find the solution. The man can’t even pack a suitcase!!! Reviving Japp or even Hastings would have been a much better idea than creating this blubbering, stupid, supremely lacking in confidence mess.
The author’s depiction of Poirot leaves a lot to be desired. She makes a lot of elementary mistakes in depicting his character. Why is Poirot such a coffee fan? Where is the crème de menthe, the sirop de cassis, the tisane or even the ordinary tea? Though there is a mention of the famous ‘order and method’ in the first chapter, it is never mentioned or shown again in the rest of the book. Poirot would never, and I mean, NEVER go out in the cold for thoughtful walk! He is quite irritable and starts screaming at people, quite unlike the real Poirot. And who ever heard of Poirot taking rest in a boarding house, of all the places? No, this was not Poirot, but an inferior specimen. An imposter!
The book does not have the feel of an Agatha Christie book. The two main ways in which this book differs from a traditional Poirot book is (i) the background story is not explored in detail. The story starts with the murder and Poirot instead of with the stories of the other characters, and (ii) it is too long. The book is long-winded and boring, unlike AC’s crisp and to-the-point stories. There are glimpses of 1929, but for the most part, the action could have taken place in any period. There is none of the charm of the AC books. The characterisation is pretty bad, and other than Fee Spring, no other character really comes alive.
The plot is convoluted and rather unbelievable. There are a number of plot holes, but I won’t mention them here, for obvious reasons. Suffice to say that people don’t really behave in this manner. Hannah should have stuck to the main AC theory that people usually commit murder for gain, and she would have done much better. The final denouement took place for over a hundred pages and was quite ridiculous. I still don’t get the point of this story. Until the denouement part, the book was bearable and quite interesting in parts, but it degenerated into a sloppy mess in the last 100 pages.
Agatha Christie was always going to be a hard act to follow, but this book is miserably lacking in providing even basic Poirot-like material. I am amazed that the Agatha Christie Foundation agreed to the publication of this book. Mr Prichard, your grandmother is spinning in her grave.
April 18, 2020
0.5*
I have tried to finish this book so many times this week, but The Monogram Murders is not only utterly crap it's also bloody endless. It drags, and drags, and drags.
The last 30% of the book just felt like the story of who did what changed on every page and I completely lost track of what happened.
You know, that fabulous spoof of the mystery genre that is Murder by Death (the film)?
Every character comes up with a different version of the solution, and they are all wrong.
In this book, the same thing happened, but the different versions were not put forward by different characters but by the book's version of Poirot (a poor shadow of Christie's original creation), which made the last 30% of the book absolutely unbearable. And unlike Murder by Death, this book was not a spoof of the genre.
No. The only word that comes to my mind to describe this book was: painful.
None of the plot made sense. Poirot is not Poirot. The writing lacks the complexity and charm and atmosphere that Christie's books have.
The portrayal of women in this book didn't work for me - it was in parts downright offensive - and it certainly did not do a book justice that is supposed to be a continuation of Christie's oeuvre.
The romance subplots were ridiculous.
And last, but definitely worst of all, was that the book was narrated from the POV of a character that has no justification of even being in the story. He's the most incompetent policeman or even amateur detective that I can imagine.
Needless to say, I have no interest in reading any other books in the series.
I have tried to finish this book so many times this week, but The Monogram Murders is not only utterly crap it's also bloody endless. It drags, and drags, and drags.
The last 30% of the book just felt like the story of who did what changed on every page and I completely lost track of what happened.
You know, that fabulous spoof of the mystery genre that is Murder by Death (the film)?
Every character comes up with a different version of the solution, and they are all wrong.
In this book, the same thing happened, but the different versions were not put forward by different characters but by the book's version of Poirot (a poor shadow of Christie's original creation), which made the last 30% of the book absolutely unbearable. And unlike Murder by Death, this book was not a spoof of the genre.
No. The only word that comes to my mind to describe this book was: painful.
None of the plot made sense. Poirot is not Poirot. The writing lacks the complexity and charm and atmosphere that Christie's books have.
The portrayal of women in this book didn't work for me - it was in parts downright offensive - and it certainly did not do a book justice that is supposed to be a continuation of Christie's oeuvre.
The romance subplots were ridiculous.
And last, but definitely worst of all, was that the book was narrated from the POV of a character that has no justification of even being in the story. He's the most incompetent policeman or even amateur detective that I can imagine.
Needless to say, I have no interest in reading any other books in the series.
August 28, 2020
I love a good murder mystery and Sophie Hannah’s book does not disappoint. I was apprehensive to read this book because it wasn't written by the great Agatha Christie herself, but the Hannah's story did a good job portraying Hercule Poirot.
This is a twisted mystery with a little bit of humor thrown in. It kept me up late at night trying to finish it!! I enjoyed the writing style and will read more from this author in the future.
Thank you to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers for an ARC of this book in exchange for my opinion.
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This is a twisted mystery with a little bit of humor thrown in. It kept me up late at night trying to finish it!! I enjoyed the writing style and will read more from this author in the future.
Thank you to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers for an ARC of this book in exchange for my opinion.
#TheMonogramMurders #NetGalley
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/4...
https://www.instagram.com/ink_drinker64/
https://www.bookbub.com
https://www.amazon.com/gp/profile/amz...
September 11, 2014
I'm giving this two stars instead of one for only these reasons: it contains some good, thought-provoking writing; it has a few well-drawn, interesting characters; and because of the first chapter. This was released a few days before the book itself and reading I had that same feeling as when settling down with an original Christie mystery, or watching the Poirot TV series: the feeling of entering a familiar, exciting world full of adventure and mystery. I thought it would be so wonderful if the rest of the book was as "Christie" as this first chapter.
Unfortunately, the rest of the book is definitely Sophie Hannah. Poirot is portrayed convincingly and endearingly enough, but his detective skills are not up to par. I didn't feel there was any method or thoroughness in the way he, or the Scotland Yard detective who is his partner in this case, investigated the murders. One glaring example: there is no mention of the police checking the crime scenes for fingerprints! Since the people involved in the crimes are also not said to have worn gloves or wiped the stuff they touched, it means that had the police performed the basic routine of checking the fingerprints of these people against those found on the scenes, the case might have been solved from day one! I know fingerprints usually feature in Christie mysteries as false clues, but at least the police there are conscientious about investigating them and the murderers are smart enough not to leave them...
Nowhere is this "new Poirot" as disappointing, however, as in the denouement of the mystery, which is after all what Agatha Christie is most famous for. It's true that I didn't guess who committed the "monogram murders", but only because I expected something rational and coherent. The solution was preposterous and involved the characters acting in a way that made no sense whatsoever! It was like the opposite of a Christie, where and apparently baffling and complex murder is shown to have a simple, logical reason... Oh, well, there is only one Agatha Christie.
Unfortunately, the rest of the book is definitely Sophie Hannah. Poirot is portrayed convincingly and endearingly enough, but his detective skills are not up to par. I didn't feel there was any method or thoroughness in the way he, or the Scotland Yard detective who is his partner in this case, investigated the murders. One glaring example: there is no mention of the police checking the crime scenes for fingerprints! Since the people involved in the crimes are also not said to have worn gloves or wiped the stuff they touched, it means that had the police performed the basic routine of checking the fingerprints of these people against those found on the scenes, the case might have been solved from day one! I know fingerprints usually feature in Christie mysteries as false clues, but at least the police there are conscientious about investigating them and the murderers are smart enough not to leave them...
Nowhere is this "new Poirot" as disappointing, however, as in the denouement of the mystery, which is after all what Agatha Christie is most famous for. It's true that I didn't guess who committed the "monogram murders", but only because I expected something rational and coherent. The solution was preposterous and involved the characters acting in a way that made no sense whatsoever! It was like the opposite of a Christie, where and apparently baffling and complex murder is shown to have a simple, logical reason... Oh, well, there is only one Agatha Christie.
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