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A review by beaconatnight
Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
5.0
Murder on the Orient Express is a story as orderly and methodical as Agatha Christie's most famous investigator. Murder is committed in the narrow confines of a train, and due to unforeseen circumstances, the perpetrator must still be with them on board. After establishing the brute facts, Poirot sets out to solve the mystery by conducting interviews with every passenger. Of course, their secrets won't long escape his relentless scrutiny.
The story opens with a highly captivating first act that very well sets up the chilly mood. The great Hercule Poirot departs from Aleppo, Syria where he was able to assist an old friend in a highly delicate matter. His plan was to spend some days in Istanbul (or Stanboul), but pressing matters require him back in London. For his continental journey he boards the famous Simplon Orient Express. It's turns out to be far from an ordinary trip.
For one thing, the train is fully booked, which is very unusual for the time of the year. It's only by the insistence of his friend, Wagons-Lits director Monsieur Bouc, Poirot is able to reserve himself a berth. During lunch, M. Bouc also observes that the passengers represent all social classes and many nationalities. A couple of days after their departure, the train is stuck in a snowdrift between Vinkovci and Brod. It's in that night that Poirot wakes up to a nearby cry and to turmoil in the corridor. The next morning, one passenger, the American Mr Ratchett, is found dead in his compartment.
If you don't count the detective and his two assistants, M. Bouc and the doctor Constantine, there are thirteen passengers that might have committed the murder. Even for Christie's very high standards, it's an absolutely stellar cast of highly memorable characters and personalities. Even more noteworthy, though, is the fact that the interviews gradually reveal that they all provide each other watertight alibis for the time of death at about Midnight to 2 a.m. What is more, there appears to be no motive why anyone would want to murder this distant stranger, maybe other than the victim's personal secretary or his valet.
From the discoverable evidence, a highly incoherent picture emerges. Ratchett was stabbed twelve times, yet it doesn't seem like a crime of passion. Maybe it's how a woman would have used a knife, but there are wounds through muscle and bone that could only be inflicted with great strength. In the compartment, they find a handkerchief (with the initial "H.") and a pipe-cleaner, a female and a male clue, so to speak. Could it be that there are two separate individuals responsible? And had they even been working together?
There are two other highly noteworthy incidences. After he heard the cry in the night, Poirot himself had a look into the corridor and saw someone in a scarlet kimono walking away, and some passengers saw her, too. Others report that they saw a conductor walking about at night, which of course isn't very surprising. However, the hysterical Mrs Hubbard states that someone (she doesn't know who) entered her compartment and they later found a button of a Wagons-Lits uniform next to her berth – only that none of the conductors seem to have lost any. So, who were these two people? Where did they disappear to? Might the fake conductor have been fabricated to distract from what had really happened?
Murder mysteries are commonly advertised for allowing the reader to guess along. To my mind it seems as if often it's little more than that, guess work based on weak intuition and familiarity with the genre tropes. Murder on the Orient Express is very different. Because of its unusually condensed presentation that puts the entire focus on the investigation, the facts and statements are put clearly before us. We only have to sit and think, and draw our conclusions.
When presented with theories, the reader feels strongly involved. Early on there is the Shakespearean hypothesis of the First and Second Murderer. Maybe the victim was stabbed and the murderer turned off light before leaving the compartment; then the next person arrives in the dark and stabs a dead body. It doesn't feel right, yet it's something the reader could have come up with. There are inconsistencies an attentive reader might have spotted, like the "fact" that a highly drugged and monolingual American answers the conductor through the door in French. That is odd indeed, how could I not have noticed that! Similar sentiments will accompany you throughout.
There is one clue that functions as the key to the entire mystery. To be honest, it's probably the weakest aspect of the story (and the reason why I'll refrain from given the 5/5 rating). Due to heedlessness, the perpetrator doesn't fully burn an incriminating letter or piece of paper and Poirot later discovers its message: "—member little Daisy Armstrong." Maybe it's not perfectly plausible that something of such great importance would remain in the compartment, but I loved how the entire case resolves from there.
In the Armstrong Case, a little girl of three years was kidnapped and later found dead. It's only the cruel beginning of Greek tragedy. Shocked by the events, her pregnant mother loses her unborn baby and dies in the complications of failed childbirth. Her husband, Colonel Armstrong, is heartstricken and shoots himself. The maid is held responsible, and she commits suicide. As Poirot is able to deduce, it was in fact Mr Ratchett – or Cassetti – who was responsible for the horrifying affair.
The final resolution is more than mind-blowing. The reader will long have sensed what was going on, but when it dawns on you to what extent it was thought-through you cannot but listen to Poirot in awe. Cassetti was sentenced, it was only a procedural error that saved him from the chair; so he got his rightful punishment. He was sentenced by a jury of twelve, and he was stabbed twelve times. It's an issue that makes you question the justice and moral of the legal system.
Another aspect of the conclusion made a strong impression on me. Poirot openly admits that he guessed the true identities of all passengers and their involvement in the Armstrong case. He has no real evidence yet the impossibility of the whole affair on the train, it renders the unwarranted guesses virtually inevitable. I was with M. Bouc and the doctor, I was just amazed when Poirot is able to establish the connections one by one – everyone is involved, even the conductor! For once, the reader was invited to guess, and I for one wouldn't have dared to go this far.
Agatha Christie's most famous story remains her most accomplished.
Rating: 4.5/5
The story opens with a highly captivating first act that very well sets up the chilly mood. The great Hercule Poirot departs from Aleppo, Syria where he was able to assist an old friend in a highly delicate matter. His plan was to spend some days in Istanbul (or Stanboul), but pressing matters require him back in London. For his continental journey he boards the famous Simplon Orient Express. It's turns out to be far from an ordinary trip.
For one thing, the train is fully booked, which is very unusual for the time of the year. It's only by the insistence of his friend, Wagons-Lits director Monsieur Bouc, Poirot is able to reserve himself a berth. During lunch, M. Bouc also observes that the passengers represent all social classes and many nationalities. A couple of days after their departure, the train is stuck in a snowdrift between Vinkovci and Brod. It's in that night that Poirot wakes up to a nearby cry and to turmoil in the corridor. The next morning, one passenger, the American Mr Ratchett, is found dead in his compartment.
If you don't count the detective and his two assistants, M. Bouc and the doctor Constantine, there are thirteen passengers that might have committed the murder. Even for Christie's very high standards, it's an absolutely stellar cast of highly memorable characters and personalities. Even more noteworthy, though, is the fact that the interviews gradually reveal that they all provide each other watertight alibis for the time of death at about Midnight to 2 a.m. What is more, there appears to be no motive why anyone would want to murder this distant stranger, maybe other than the victim's personal secretary or his valet.
From the discoverable evidence, a highly incoherent picture emerges. Ratchett was stabbed twelve times, yet it doesn't seem like a crime of passion. Maybe it's how a woman would have used a knife, but there are wounds through muscle and bone that could only be inflicted with great strength. In the compartment, they find a handkerchief (with the initial "H.") and a pipe-cleaner, a female and a male clue, so to speak. Could it be that there are two separate individuals responsible? And had they even been working together?
There are two other highly noteworthy incidences. After he heard the cry in the night, Poirot himself had a look into the corridor and saw someone in a scarlet kimono walking away, and some passengers saw her, too. Others report that they saw a conductor walking about at night, which of course isn't very surprising. However, the hysterical Mrs Hubbard states that someone (she doesn't know who) entered her compartment and they later found a button of a Wagons-Lits uniform next to her berth – only that none of the conductors seem to have lost any. So, who were these two people? Where did they disappear to? Might the fake conductor have been fabricated to distract from what had really happened?
Murder mysteries are commonly advertised for allowing the reader to guess along. To my mind it seems as if often it's little more than that, guess work based on weak intuition and familiarity with the genre tropes. Murder on the Orient Express is very different. Because of its unusually condensed presentation that puts the entire focus on the investigation, the facts and statements are put clearly before us. We only have to sit and think, and draw our conclusions.
When presented with theories, the reader feels strongly involved. Early on there is the Shakespearean hypothesis of the First and Second Murderer. Maybe the victim was stabbed and the murderer turned off light before leaving the compartment; then the next person arrives in the dark and stabs a dead body. It doesn't feel right, yet it's something the reader could have come up with. There are inconsistencies an attentive reader might have spotted, like the "fact" that a highly drugged and monolingual American answers the conductor through the door in French. That is odd indeed, how could I not have noticed that! Similar sentiments will accompany you throughout.
There is one clue that functions as the key to the entire mystery. To be honest, it's probably the weakest aspect of the story (and the reason why I'll refrain from given the 5/5 rating). Due to heedlessness, the perpetrator doesn't fully burn an incriminating letter or piece of paper and Poirot later discovers its message: "—member little Daisy Armstrong." Maybe it's not perfectly plausible that something of such great importance would remain in the compartment, but I loved how the entire case resolves from there.
In the Armstrong Case, a little girl of three years was kidnapped and later found dead. It's only the cruel beginning of Greek tragedy. Shocked by the events, her pregnant mother loses her unborn baby and dies in the complications of failed childbirth. Her husband, Colonel Armstrong, is heartstricken and shoots himself. The maid is held responsible, and she commits suicide. As Poirot is able to deduce, it was in fact Mr Ratchett – or Cassetti – who was responsible for the horrifying affair.
The final resolution is more than mind-blowing. The reader will long have sensed what was going on, but when it dawns on you to what extent it was thought-through you cannot but listen to Poirot in awe. Cassetti was sentenced, it was only a procedural error that saved him from the chair; so he got his rightful punishment. He was sentenced by a jury of twelve, and he was stabbed twelve times. It's an issue that makes you question the justice and moral of the legal system.
Another aspect of the conclusion made a strong impression on me. Poirot openly admits that he guessed the true identities of all passengers and their involvement in the Armstrong case. He has no real evidence yet the impossibility of the whole affair on the train, it renders the unwarranted guesses virtually inevitable. I was with M. Bouc and the doctor, I was just amazed when Poirot is able to establish the connections one by one – everyone is involved, even the conductor! For once, the reader was invited to guess, and I for one wouldn't have dared to go this far.
Agatha Christie's most famous story remains her most accomplished.
Rating: 4.5/5