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A review by wonderwomantbh
Lord Edgware Dies by Agatha Christie
3.0
Look okay. Nobody can convince me that Poirot's affection for Hastings (or men in general, but that's another subject of discourse) was completely platonic. Observe:
And a few paragraphs later:
(And, you know, for that matter I think Hastings, the daft thing that he is, doesn't even recognize his own more-than-platonic feelings for Poirot, let alone that the little man seems, at the least, infatuated with him.)
The book itself is not one of my favorites, but still good. I think it's too similar to Peril At End House which, in my subjective opinion, handles the similarities far better overall (the only exception being that I guessed the murderer nearly right away in the latter and this book did a better job of offering plausible red herrings).
Then, as we sipped our coffee, Poirot smiled affectionately across the table at me.
“My good friend,” he said. “I depend upon you more than you know.”
I was confused and delighted by these unexpected words. He had never said anything of the kind to me before. Sometimes, secretly, I had felt slightly hurt. He seemed almost to go out of his way to disparage my mental powers. Although I did not think his own powers were flagging, I did realize suddenly that perhaps he had come to depend on my aid more than he knew.
“Yes,” he said dreamily, “you may not always comprehend just how it is so — but you do often and often point the way.”
And a few paragraphs later:
“Si cher, Hastings," he murmured. “I have indeed much affection for you.”
I was pleased but embarrassed and hastened to change the subject.
(And, you know, for that matter I think Hastings, the daft thing that he is, doesn't even recognize his own more-than-platonic feelings for Poirot, let alone that the little man seems, at the least, infatuated with him.)
The book itself is not one of my favorites, but still good. I think it's too similar to Peril At End House which, in my subjective opinion, handles the similarities far better overall (the only exception being that I guessed the murderer nearly right away in the latter and this book did a better job of offering plausible red herrings).