'Home' by Marilynne Robinson

Summary: Home parallels the story told in Robinson's Pulitzer Prize-winning Gilead. It is a moving and healing book about families, family secrets, and the passing of the generations, about love and death and faith.

Hundreds of thousands were enthralled by the luminous voice of John Ames in Gilead, Marilynne Robinson’s Pulitzer Prize–winning novel. Home is an entirely independent, deeply affecting novel that takes place concurrently in the same locale, this time in the household of Reverend Robert Boughton, Ames’s closest friend.

 MY THOUGHTS: 

This isn't a sequel so much as a complementary story. In Gilead, we have Reverend John Ames' written account of what happens when his namesake, Jack Boughton, returns home after an absence of twenty years. This book shines a light on what takes place in the Boughton household simultaneously, with frequent intersections. 

This time round we see Jack through the eyes of his sister, Glory, the youngest Boughton sibling who holds the home front and cares for their ailing father. Glory is a former English teacher with a Master's degree, and she's been jilted by her long-term romantic partner. Now that she's back where she started, her question is, 'What have I done with my life?' Full-circle at the age of 38 isn't what she'd ever planned. 

It's a great story about the strong bond that forms between Reverend Boughton's two self-proclaimed unexceptional children, Glory, the frustrated try-hard, and Jack, the brilliant underachiever. Their other six siblings all managed to tick the boxes of respectability and conventionality. There are all too few great books about sibling relationships, especially those like Jack and Glory, who are nudging middle-age. 

Although Gilead and Home are companion novels, I believe this one should be read second to give us the best all-round picture of Jack. I appreciate his self-inflicted torture and complexity even more, having first seen him through old Ames' cynical and weary eyes. Now, Home delves deeper into ways in which Jack's youthful indiscretion has, in fact, rocked his world and shaped his personal conception of himself.

Ah, Jack! He's the quintessential spiritual seeker who cannot bring himself to accept the validity of the religious panaceas he sees on offer, or at least not in his case. In Gilead, we see him grapple with the question of whether he is truly among the damned. Here we see more of his inner struggle. 

As I read Home, I asked myself whether Marilynne Robinson really intends to reveal what makes Jack tick for us. He's never managed to fathom his own self, after years of effort. Does she truly hope to crack his code, simply because she's his author? Jack Boughton has taken on a life of his own, if ever a character has. The question certainly kept me reading.

I've got to say, one thing that boy can do is garden! He has an undeniable green thumb. Perhaps he should consider that his true calling. Instead, he perceives it as a restless use of time that would otherwise hang heavy on his hands. Never have I made any property as shipshape as Jack manages to get the old Boughton place in a reasonably short time frame. 

And then there's Glory, whose tears flow so easily and frequently. I consider her a super-sister, for Jack is not an easy brother to deal with. It must be true, deep affection. Glory's weeping is a sign of strength, revealing her tremendous reservoirs of empathy and solidarity. Her tears indicate a seeping over of all that she's processed in her life. I've often noticed modern reviewers criticize the tears of any female characters as gender weakness. But examples such as Glory Boughton prove to me that this is sometimes a shallow judgement. 

The third family member beneath their roof is, of course, the patriarch, Reverend Robert Boughton. He's a frail wisp in his physical frame, a titan in his faith, yet very old-school and reactive in ways elderly clergy can be, taking provocation out of proportion. For example, Reverend Boughton is horrified to hear Jack blaspheme, yet dismissive of the horrific and topical cause that triggered it. Still, sometimes the simplest souls grasp the greatest truths. Robert sums up the paradox of life when he says, 'Some things may have worked out better than they did. I know that. But there was always a lot to enjoy.' 

I loved the brief appearance of Teddy, doctor extraordinaire and cream of the Boughton crop. He's fourteen months Jack's junior, but drags himself through life like a weather-beaten Atlas, old before his time with grey hair and rheumatism. It's fascinating to see the toll being the 'good boy' has taken on Teddy. And one of my favorite moments of the book is when Teddy flings his schedule to the wind, telling Jack, 'I'll just make a few phone calls. I see patients every day, but seeing you is exceptional.' 

As you might have gathered, it's a very character-driven, rather than plot-driven book. The ending is as frustrating as any story can possibly deliver, but in a way which suggests hope of future fulfilment not far on the horizon. I'm removing one star though, because of the frustrating ending.

Toward the conclusion, Glory prays, 'If I, or my father, or any Boughton has ever stirred our Lord's compassion, then Jack will be alright. Because perdition for him would be perdition for any one of us.'

I'll certainly be continuing with Lila and Jack to conclude the Gilead series, so stay tuned.   

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'Sleeping Murder' by Agatha Christie

Summary: Our indomitable Miss Marple turns ghost hunter and uncovers shocking evidence of a very old crime.

Soon after Gwenda moved into her new home, odd things started to happen. Despite her best efforts to modernize the house, she only succeeded in dredging up its past. Worse, she felt an irrational sense of terror every time she climbed the stairs.

In fear, Gwenda turned to Miss Marple to exorcise her ghosts. Have the two of them dredged up a perfect crime committed many years before?

MY THOUGHTS:

21-year-old Gwenda Reed purchases a quaint home to live in with her new hubby, Giles. 'Hillside' is a small, white Victorian villa in the seaside town of Dillmouth. Gwenda claims it as hers in an instinctive, emotional way. It's love at first sight.

However, something creepy begins happening. Any changes or renovations she commences turn out to be peeling back the past. Gwenda's bright ideas have all been done before. She fancies a door in a particular wall, and one already existed at some point, now boarded over. Old garden steps are excavated precisely where she desires a new path. Even her ideal wallpaper pattern turns out to be an old feature, long covered over. 

Things come to a head during a night out at the theatre with distant relatives, Raymond and Joan West. A startling line is delivered in 'The Duchess of Malfi'. 'Cover her face, mine eyes dazzle, she died young.' Gwenda gets a vivid flashback of a young woman named Helen being murdered at the foot of her very own stairs. It turns out Gwenda had actually lived at Hillside briefly during her very early childhood. 

The 'sleeping murder' of the title doesn't refer to the victim, but rather the hidden crime itself. It would seem that eighteen years earlier, somebody got away with murder. Now there is only the hazy memory of a three-year-old as a springboard for investigation, unless Gwenda dreamed or imagined the whole thing. (Unsurprisingly she didn't, or there would be no story.) Or perhaps Helen simply disappeared with a lover, as people assumed. (Ditto. I wondered briefly if this might be the big twist. A Christie murder mystery without an actual murder, but no.) 

Luckily Raymond West's Aunt Jane, who was there at the theatre, takes Gwenda seriously. Miss Marple establishes herself as a friendly guardian angel to be sure young Gwenda and Giles don't get carried away in their eagerness to excavate answers. She's seen enough of human nature to suspect that the murderer may be lurking in the shadows, alarmed to have light shone on the scene after such a long time. Miss Marple knows that for this person, the effect must be like peeling the top off a long un-prodded wound.

Sadly, this is not one of Agatha Christie's best stories. I guessed who the murderer was instantly. As soon as this person came on the scene, I thought, 'Aha, I'll bet's you. Stands out a mile.' My instincts were sound. And the murderer's motive was based more on their own defective, twisted personality than on anything specifically juicy or interesting. 

But the story is not devoid of appeal. The premise is suitably chilling, Gwenda and Giles have an eager Tommy and Tuppence vibe, from their most youthful stories, and Helen Halliday's trio of former male admirers under investigation are all quite intriguing.

Then of course there's Miss Marple, a perfect period piece, according to her nephew, Raymond. Victorian to her core. She's adept at using pleasant small talk to disguise the fact that she's digging for information, and takes advantage of her appearance for all she's worth, because, 'old ladies are supposed to be inquisitive.' 

The cover declares this to be 'Miss Marple's Last Case, ' so I left it until last. But chronologically, it is nothing of the sort. That honor belongs to Nemesis. Miss Marple is far less frail than she is in some of the other later stories, she's out weeding in her garden and Dr Haydock pronounces her in remarkably fine fettle for a woman her age. And her friend Colonel Arthur Bantry is still alive and well. What's with these false cover claims? It turns out this was, in fact, the last Marple mystery published, which was done posthumously as a treat for her fans.

Anyway, for me it's farewell to the fluffy little old lady sleuth who claims to have lived such an uneventful life, but understands human nature all so well. 

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 Do check out my entire Agatha Christie page. 

The Greatest Story Ever Told: An Eyewitness Account by Bear Grylls

MY THOUGHTS:

My daughter gave me this book last Christmas, and my first reaction when I saw the cover was, 'Haha, I had no idea Bear Grylls was so old.' But joking aside, I decided to save it for a couple of months to read during the season of Lent, which is what I've just done. And truly, Grylls has done a fabulous job. Adapted versions of the gospel events in story form are a dime a dozen, but this is one of the most appealing and immersive I've come across so far.

Grylls chooses five 'eye-witnesses' whose headspaces and cultural biases he appropriates while the action plays out. I'll mention just a few examples of their collective amazement, for the story is full of them. 

First is Mother Mary (Myriam) who is rattled when the Magi present her infant son with myrrh along with gold and frankincense, for it clearly signifies death. Enough death omens occur throughout the years of her son's life to wrench her maternal heart, right up to the pivotal day when she considers herself an old woman at the age of 46. Her being present on that day is unimaginable, yet how could she stay away?

When practical Thomas (Ta'om) wonders why his unpredictable leader would take them straight through the dodgy land of Samaria for a shortcut, it's easy to echo, 'Yeah, what the heck is he thinking?' We also 'get' Peter's (Kephas') instinctive antipathy to the ratty, beady-eyed Zaccheus. ('It's one thing to hang out with the poor and sick, but to be associated with the corrupt and traitorous? That was something else.) 

We share John's (Johanan's) confusion regarding the Passover elements at that Last Supper. And we glimpse a flashback of Mary Magdalene's (the other Myriam's) fearful and grievous life before Yeshua entered her world. She was said to be demon possessed, but this story makes her sound more like a sufferer of panic attacks and what we may now consider mental issues, which is interesting.

The unconscionable behavior of the religious leaders and Pharisees is right in our faces, their hypocritical insistence on wanting to avoid street riots by manipulating events to make Yeshua's execution appear like a Roman decision. The devious arm-twisting it takes reflects particularly badly on them, when Pilate keeps repeating, 'No, I don't want to do it.' 

The Crucifixion itself is written in such a way that makes clear how costly and powerful the sacrifice on our behalf truly was, not a throw-away gesture. Overall, this book is a brilliant attempt to make the ancient and alien political climate of Roman Palestine accessible for 21st century western readers. The inclusion of what would have been contemporary Hebrew and Aramaic person and place names is a nice touch, making the unfolding action feel fresh and immediate. 

Most importantly, what a legend our hero is! He calls everyday people his closest friends, attacks conventional sacred cows and tall poppies, hangs out with the unclean, and makes healing and restoration his main priority. And he doggedly keeps his revolutionary and subversive stance, knowing full well that the world's religious leaders see him as somebody who keeps forgiving the unforgiveable and breaking the law instead of fulfilling it. And, of course, knowing what it will cost him.  

The back cover flap tells us that Bear Grylls has written over 100 books (I never knew he was that prolific) but says that if he were only to have written one, this would be it. And his devotion shines through every page. It's a must-read not just once but over again.

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My Top Five Dickens Novels

Hooray, this is the wrap-up I've longed to write for years, and it's taken almost a decade to get here! At last I've completed every single one of Charles Dickens' major completed novels. They're finally done and dusted, read and reviewed. That's a lot of plucky orphan kids, saintly young women, and London grime. For your edification and entertainment (and to save you the slog of reading them all) I'm about to reveal my Top 5. These are the novels which I not only might, but definitely will re-read.

Note: I'm not including novellas, short stories, or unfinished works. That's why A Christmas Carol, despite being everyone's sentimental favorite, is ineligible to make the list. 

My aim has been to present teasers rather than spoilers but tread carefully anyway. So counting backwards from my fifth favorite to very top pick, here they are!

5) Oliver Twist

There is far more to this story than a little workhouse boy daring to say, 'Please Sir, I want some more.' Nor is its central focus creepy old Fagin's abysmal factory that churns out young criminals. The fact that certain colorful aspects spring to our collective unconscious mind proves how brimful this classic is of iconic moments. But poor young Oliver has a dastardly, behind-the-scenes, older brother who we'd never hear of if we didn't do ourselves the favor of reading the book. The novel is a scathing indictment of the harsh Victorian society in which Dickens lived. If his era's version of charity looked cruel and soul crushing, he had an obligation to make that clear, but Dickens has also made it simultaneously delightful.

4) Great Expectations

Our hero, Pip, allows strokes of good fortune to mold him into a proper snob. That's why it's such an entertaining blast to share that pivotal moment when he discovers the *real* identity of his secret benefactor. It is definitely not the person he assumes it to be. I enjoy immersive bildungsroman tales, and this one takes its main character full circle to renewed humility. Lucky breaks may prove to be fortunate indeed, but not necessarily in the way they seem at first. It takes time and character development to draw out the nuances. And as an Aussie, I appreciate the offstage subtext that exiles to the Colony willing to work hard may have had more opportunity to change their lives than it first appeared. 

3) Little Dorrit  

This one makes my list because Dickens shows how sudden financial windfalls may shape any personality in detrimental ways. Even goody-goody title character, Amy, loses her mojo when her purpose to be a self-sacrificing drudge is taken away. It's quite chilling to see good fortune turn her snobbish father into a nervous wreck. We also have two characters I can't ever forget, Miss Wade and her follower, Tattycorum, who view the world through the lens of their own paranoia, which is far from accurate. Second guessing our impressions on others may give us a distorted pseudo-reality which nonetheless seems totally true to us. That revelation alone makes this one of my personal game-changing novels. It is such a psychologically immersive character study. 

2) Our Mutual Friend

Three male characters earn its high spot for me. Bradley Headstone is an insanely dangerous and jealous wacko, yet he's the school teacher! Young Fledgeby is so disgustingly foul and hypocritical for somebody who presents such an innocent and upstanding face. And Eugene Wrayburn is the sort of smart-aleck who elicits fist pumps from me whenever he opens his mouth. But when a smooth and confident smart-aleck decides to mess with a thwarted lunatic, he's playing with fire. Even Dickens' inevitable 'good girl' character earns my admiration easier than his usual blindly loyal, spiritless saints. Lizzie Hexam will not cave in to pressure to marry a man she doesn't love, and she rescues the man her heart chooses in a stunning way. Solid gold. 

1) A Tale of Two Cities  

I find this such an outstanding Number One. It is surely one of the best French Revolution novels ever written. By showing extreme partisanship from characters on both sides of the Channel, Dickens proves singlehandedly how human nature is the toxic ingredient that promotes war. It is still so relevant in the 21st century. As for the characters who are drawn into the chaos, I'll surely never come across another doppelganger story that ticks my boxes as much as this one focused on Charles Darnay and Sydney Carton. As soon as I got to the part about Sydney's breathtaking sacrificial gesture, I knew instantly this must skyrocket to my all time favorite Dickens novel. It is thoroughly devastating, breathtakingly suspenseful, and also highly romantic.  

But wait, there's more!

Now, check out the following tables for some very revealing statistics. First off is the haphazard order in which I read the 14 completed major works and ticked them off over almost a decade. I've highlighted my Five Favorites in red.

Table 1: My mood-led, unsystematic reading of Dickens' major works

2017 The Pickwick Papers

2017 Great Expectations

2018 David Copperfield

2019 Our Mutual Friend

2020 Bleak House

2021 A Tale of Two Cities 

2021 Martin Chuzzlewit

2022 Dombey and Son

2023 Oliver Twist

2023 Little Dorrit

2024 Hard Times

2024 Nicholas Nickleby

2025 Barnaby Rudge

2026 The Old Curiosity Shop  

This indicates that my Top Five were spread across the board, as I'd expected. 2023 was an excellent Dickens year for me, yet in more recent years, I've found the quest a bit grinding, which shows. But it's only when I compare my reading list with the actual order in which they were written, that a revealing insight emerges. 

Table 2: Charles Dickens' Major Works - The Publication Order

1836 The Pickwick Papers

1837 Oliver Twist

1838 Nicholas Nickleby

1840 The Old Curiosity Shop

1841 Barnaby Rudge

1843 Martin Chuzzlewit

1846 Dombey and Son

1849 David Copperfield

1852 Bleak House

1854 Hard Times

1855 Little Dorrit

1859 A Tale of Two Cities

1860 Great Expectations

1864 Our Mutual Friend

Wow,  it appears I accidentally but undeniably favored Dickens' later works by far, with the exception of Oliver, which was evidently an outlier. On the strength of this I'm willing to believe I might've found the Mystery of Edwin Drood to be absolutely mind-blowing, if only he'd lived to finish it. This may be my unintentional statistical tribute to a man who was cut down in his creative prime. When Dickens died at the age of 58, I have no reason to believe he wasn't still on his upward trajectory.

Of course your Top Five and subsequent tables might look completely different from mine. To be honest, I'm steeling myself for a bit of friendly protest that neither David Copperfield nor Bleak House make my final cut as I know they are greatly loved by many.  Indeed, were I to extend my list, I'd place Davy in sixth place. I was surprised myself that when tally time came, I placed five others above it.

Do I have a wooden spoon award? Yes, it's probably a tie between Barnaby Rudge and Dombey & Son for least enjoyable. And for a title which pleasantly surprised me, Martin Chuzzlewit.  

Please do check out my entire What the Dickens page, where you'll find my thorough reviews of every single one, along with even more discussions. 

'The Penderwicks at Point Mouette' by Jeanne Birdsall

Summary: When summer comes around, it's off to the beach for Rosalind . . . and off to Maine with Aunt Claire for the rest of the Penderwick girls, as well as their old friend, Jeffrey.

You may like to start with my Book One and Book Two reviews. 

MY THOUGHTS:

 Hooray, at last Jeanne Birdsall has hit her stride with this third installment in the series!

Their father is away on his honeymoon, and Rosalind is visiting New Jersey with Anna, her best friend. With Aunt Claire in charge, the three younger sisters are off for a few weeks to a coastal peninsula town named Point Mouette. To their delight, Jeffrey is able to join them, for his mother and the deplorable Dexter are recent enough newlyweds to relish alone time.

Skye and Jane are stressed for different reasons. Skye has a serious case of nerves because she's now the OAP (Oldest Available Penderwick) for the duration, yet she's lost the list Rosalind wrote for her about Batty's needs. Meanwhile, Jane decides it's time to introduce a love element into her Sabrina Starr stories, but develops an unprecedented case of writer's block. And she falls head over heels for a boy named Dominic, who has that unfortunate combo of gorgeous physique and clueless immaturity shared by many lads his age. Yep, the contrast between practical, no-frills Skye and sentimental, dreamy Jane really works well this time. 

Little Batty (who I'm convinced is nowhere near as high-maintenance as her sisters think) makes a new friend and develops a talent for playing music, encouraged by Jeffrey who she still adores. She's breaking the myth that no Penderwick can possibly be a musician. 

As for Jeffrey, he has no idea that his world is about to be thoroughly shaken. The unexpected news he receives is equally huge for another character. This thread is the main reason for my high ranking. I could certainly see it coming, but predictability is sometimes a good thing if it makes us hold our breath to prepare for the shockwaves. It feels as if we readers are aware of a missile on its way, which isn't remotely on the characters' radars. 

Even other events are more to my liking than before. Until now, I've considered Birdsall unskilled at writing simple, charming chapters. But this time, she's got it. Incidents such as playing music from a boat to basking seals, toasting marshmallows, and selling golf balls are great. Far more evocative than the melodramatic rescues, slapstick stage fright, and overdrawn thief-captures she's offered us in the first two novels.  

Shout out to Aunt Claire, who has no idea how much of a camp-mama she'll have to be, but still steps up, even with a crook ankle. Jeffrey is depicted at his most considerate and wistful best. And Jane, simply being herself, adds a dash of comic appeal. She brings zaniness to being a bookworm. I love this paragraph about her inner world, for example. 

'Until now, Jane's biggest crushes had been on boys in books, especially Peter Pevensie who became High King of Narnia. There'd been others - Tom Hammond from Leepike Ridge, Finn Taverner from Journey to the River Sea, and though he was so small, Spiller from the Borrowers books.' 

(Haha, I'm sure many girl readers would agree with Jane's choice of Spiller, but I'd argue that either Edmund or Eustace may be more appealing choices from the world of Narnia, since Peter is pretty perfect from the outset and needs minimal character development. I've always had a soft spot for boy characters with issues. If I could, I'd discuss the subject further with Jane.)

Bring on the fourth book in the Penderwick series, and hopefully the writing quality will stay at this level.

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'4.50 from Paddington' by Agatha Christie

This is a fun mystery to discuss. First will be my spoiler free review, and then beneath the red line I'll add my speculations about the secondary puzzle we're left with on the very final page. Proceed carefully with that though, as it reveals spoilers concerning the main mystery (namely, who wasn't the murderer).  

MY THOUGHTS: 

On her way home from Christmas shopping, Mrs Elspeth McGillycuddy witnesses a brutal murder from her train window. A man in a train adjacent to hers, with his back to the window, savagely strangles a woman who is facing him. And then both trains set off again, placing Mrs McGillycuddy in a helpless position. Fortunately she's off to visit her friend, Jane Marple, at St. Mary Mead, who will surely know what steps to take next.

Both ladies are shocked when the crime doesn't appear in the morning paper. Miss Marple figures that the body may have been dumped off the train overlooking one specific property, Rutherford Hall, home of the Crackenthorpe family. 

She is too limited in her ability to snoop around, so hires a trustworthy young Wonder Woman clone named Lucy Eyelesbarrow to be her cohort sleuth. Discovering the whereabouts of the body is their first tall order, and then they must figure her identity and that of her murderer. 

I found this mystery lots of fun. It turns out that the Crackenthorpe family, who know the lay of the land so well, are prime suspects. The building itself is an anachronism from the past plonked into modern suburbia, and the family comprises a bunch of mismatched members who rub each other up the wrong way. 

Miserly old Mr Crackenthorpe and his dutiful daugher, Emma, live on the property full time. Visiting over Christmas are the sons; Cedric, the bachelor artist; Harold, the pompous businessman; Alfred, the black sheep; and Bryan Eastley, the likeable widowed son-in-law. Would any of the Crackenthorpe guys really be dumb or daring enough to plant a body practically on their own back doorstep though?

Also home for Christmas holidays are two young schoolboys, Master Alexander Eastley, the only grandchild, along with his best buddy, James Stoddart-West. They consider themselves keen wannabe detectives, and are described as having 'suspiciously angelic faces.' 

At this stage, it's nice to see Miss Marple draw from the expertise of other members of the very youngest generation. Her nephew Raymond's son, David, works for the British Railway, and Griselda's boy, Leonard, now grown up, is good with maps. 

My main disappointment with this story is twofold. A pair of extra deaths toward the end seem redundant to the main plot. Even now, when I think of the big revelation, it strikes me as bizarre that the murderer would even bother, since their main purpose had been achieved. Miss Marple steps up in her role as unlikely nemesis to another despicable killer, but it would've been nice if she could've prevented these other senseless deaths. 

What's more, although we readers normally get breadcrumb trails of clues dispersed for us throughout Christie mysteries, this story is problematic. The key circumstance that fuels the murderer's motivation is completely hidden until the final scene. This makes it unfair, if not impossible, to expect us to hazard our own guesses. Red herrings are great, but only when they're balanced with something real.

Details such as these prevent me giving it five stars. 

But overall, an enjoyable read with a varied and interesting cast. Lucy and the two young boys specifically, are great. 

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The bottom line: To Avoid Spoilers, read no further!

We readers are tantalized with another mystery on the very final page which doesn't get revealed. It seems to be a teasing challenge from Miss Marple to Dermott Craddock, and also from Agatha Christie to us readers. It made me groan. How are we supposed to know? I certainly don't have Miss Marple's nous. The question is who does Lucy Eyelesbarrow marry? I can't claim to have a stand-out favorite from the possibilities set before us.

Here they are.

1) Cedric Crackenthorpe.

He follows Lucy out to the pigsty, which seems to make her starry-eyed about the location from then on (ugh) and he's the only brother who doesn't make his interest in her clear throughout the story by throwing propositions at her feet like a panting dog. But Cedric's rough edges are almost razor sharp. He's a slob with no finesse whatsoever, and tends to get himself totally smashed. Worse than all this in my opinion, he doesn't seem to care about his two younger brothers being murdered. No matter how annoying they might have been, surely nostalgia for their shared childhood ought to stir him a little. I find it in very bad taste that it doesn't. 

2) Bryan Eastley.

He's pleasant and obliging, and Lucy is sympathetic to his forlorn, little-boy-lost persona. Bryan, once a fighter pilot in the war, seems to have completely lost his mojo now. Much as Lucy would make young Alexander an excellent stepmother, she is genuinely surprised when the boy starts some non-subtle matchmaking on his dad's behalf. Bryan reminds me of Ashley Wilkes from Gone with the Wind. He's just such another turtle on his back. I don't think Lucy seriously considers him. 

3) Inspector Dermot Craddock.

Some readers suggested this possibility that would've gone straight under my radar. They do have grounds for their suggestion. Craddock is the person who poses the question and Miss Marple twinkles at him when she makes her ambiguous reply. She has an undeniable soft spot for this godson of her great friend, Sir Henry Clithering. And at once stage, Lucy cheekily tells him, 'You seem almost human today.'

Yet Craddock appears in a subsequent Marple mystery, The Mirror Cracked from Side to Side, without a wife. I take that as a pretty sound indicator that, charming as it seems, this theory is way off the mark.

(Sigh) If it comes down to a choice between the brothers-in-law, I'd have to favor Bryan. But I tend to think the brilliant, productive, and accomplished Lucy ought to aim higher than both these blokes. Either one of them might prove to be deadweight around her ankles.

What do you think?  

Do check out my entire Agatha Christie, Queen of Crime page. 

'The Old Curiosity Shop' by Charles Dickens

Summary: Little Nell Trent lives in the quiet gloom of the old curiosity shop with her ailing grandfather, for whom she cares with selfless devotion. But when they are unable to pay their debts to the stunted, lecherous and demonic money-lender Daniel Quilp, the shop is seized and they are forced to flee, thrown into a shadowy world in which there seems to be no safe haven. Dickens's portrayal of the innocent, tragic Nell made The Old Curiosity Shop an instant bestseller that captured the hearts of the nation, even as it was criticised for its sentimentality by figures such as Oscar Wilde. Yet alongside the story's pathos are some of Dickens's greatest comic and grotesque creations: the ne'er-do-well Dick Swiveller, the mannish lawyer Sally Brass, the half-starved 'Marchioness' and the lustful, loathsome Quilp himself.

MY THOUGHTS:

Yay, with this volume under my belt, I've now read my way through all of Dickens' major completed works. I hadn't been looking forward to this book, but in many ways, it wasn't so bad, although it took several weeks to read. 

It's essentially a tale about a young teen and her deadweight grandfather trying to flee a heartless pursuer and live a peaceful life of beggary on their own terms. Daniel Quilp, the evil and misshapen, money-lending dwarf is determined to take his pound of flesh from the old man who owes him so much money. Quilp also has his predatory eye on Little Nell as a potential future wife to replace his current missus, who he's almost bullied the spirit out of. ('Such blue veins and such translucent skin,' Quilp gloats over Little Nell. Ugh!) 

These escapees are one of the most feeble duos I've come across in classic literature. With the intention to secure Nell's future, old Grandpa gambles away all that Quilp loans him. He's lost his knick-knack business, the titular old curiosity shop. And the long-suffering Little Nell is too pure-hearted to ever admit to herself that her grandfather is a total loser. She's referred to by the narrator over and over as 'the child' even though she's fourteen years old. Wide-eyed and idealistic, Nell expects homelessness to deliver them both a happy, pastoral lifestyle. However, the harshness of the Victorian era and her grandfather's degeneracy are insurmountable obstacles, even minus the Quilp factor.  

Little Nell is one-dimensional and overly sweet, but I do feel for her. She's in a horrific situation. Not only is she forced to be the 'grown-up' in their fugitive existence, but her grandfather's pathetic, addictive nature every so often morphs into a malevolent force. If it's a question of which character destroys Nell's life the most, I'd say it's undoubtedly her grandfather and not Daniel Quilp. Dickens treats him far too sympathetically. This old man is not a mere victim of circumstance, he's an incorrigible agent of his own downfall who drags his granddaughter down with him. 

Also searching for them is the wastrel grandson. Nell's older brother, Frederick, thinks their grandfather is wealthier than he lets on and wants his share of the booty. (I find it hard to fathom how old Grandpa, with his persistent delusions about his card-playing savvy, has the nerve to consider Fred a more hopeless case than himself. Perhaps I've answered my own question. He's seriously clueless.) Frederick aims to marry Nell off to an easy-going friend of his, Dick Swiveller, who ends up being one of the novel's heroes. And Dick's eventual romance with another character is a very cool, Victorian version of workplace camaraderie, based on generosity, grown deeper.

Another story savior is Nell's friend, Christopher (Kit) Nubbles. Although he never manages to save Little Nell, this boy rescues the novel itself from being a total slog. At first I thought he was destined to be a character such as the simple-minded Barnaby Rudge, or Sloppy from Our Mutual Friend. Not so. Kit is hardworking and brimming with initiative, a credit and major support to his widowed mother. I appreciate how he always manages to cheer himself up by doing something nice for his mother and little brothers, rather than taking his bad moods out on them. It's unfortunate for them that Grandfather and Little Nell, each oblivious in their own way, don't perceive Kit to be a fine catch from the outset. Instead grandpop is quick to believe bad of him, and always treats him with a touch of condescension. (Again, what gives him the right?)

At first the title seems misleading, since Nell and her grandfather reside in their shop only during the very early stage of the story. However, I think Dickens intends a double meaning. The eccentric and noteworthy people who cross paths with the two wanderers turn rural Britain itself into a 'curiosity shop' of sorts. These include the generous Mrs Jarley and her traveling waxworks exhibition, a poor old village school teacher whose prize pupil dies, and Mr Slum, a poet who sells his creations. I also enjoy cameos such as the elderly widow who has spent decades visiting the grave of her twenty-three year old husband, and now considers him fondly as a sort of grandson.   

 Just recently, several old buildings from my past have been demolished to make way for new infrastructure. This helps me appreciate the ending, many years future to the events in the story, when Kit tells his own kids that the original curiosity shop was 'thereabouts' because the street alterations made its exact site confusing. The passage of time is a theme that occurs throughout the story. 

So there's my unembellished run-down. I didn't set out to make this sound melodramatic or overly sentimental. If it gives you that impression, that's pure Dickens. But apparently those sensation-seeking Victorians couldn't get enough of it. It was the only British novel that came close to equalling the same retail furore as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Crowds lined up on the release day of the final installment, avid to find out whether Little Nell was going to live or die. (No prizes for guessing the right answer. There have been two centuries of spoilers. And as the phrase goes, 'Only the good...') 

To me, the brightest spot of the story is that my favorite boys, Dick and Kit, each end up married to far more suitable spouses than the saintly and saccharine Little Nell would have made either of them. 

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If you would like to read more of my reviews, on any Dickens major novel, along with reflection pieces and further commentary, please visit my What the Dickens page. 

And here is my wrap-up page in which I reveal my Top Five. .