Learning from Squirrels

Yesterday, I took Marshall outside to play. It was a beautiful day, with a blue sky, bright fall foliage, and the perfect temperature. There were acorns everywhere. I couldn’t walk more than a few inches without crushing one.

So here is a comment from Poirot to fit the season.

The squirrel . . . collects nuts. He stores them up in the autumn so that they may be of advantage to him later. To make a success of humanity . . . we must profit by the lessons of those below us in the animal kingdom. I have always done so. I have been the cat, watching at the mouse hole. I have been the good dog following up the scent, and not taking my nose from the trail. And also, . . . I have been the squirrel. I have stored away the little fact here, the little fact there.

from The Mystery of the Blue Train

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Hungry

I was just thinking that I was hungry and needed a late-night snack. That brought to mind this silly little comment that Poirot made in “The Theft of the Royal Ruby.”

You arouse my gastronomic juices, madame.

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The Doctor Is In

Poirot on colds:

Everyone always thinks they have ‘flu.’ It sounds more important. One gets more sympathy. The trouble with a catarrhal cold is that it is hard to glean the proper amount of sympathetic consideration from one’s friends.

from Hallowe’en Party

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Autumn Leaves

Dear Marshall,

It is March of 2011 now. I wrote the following post during the fall, which is why I’m setting the publication date to this day (chosen randomly) in October.

I looked out the window at the tree limbs dancing in the sky today and saw that some of the leaves have started to turn. Fall is on its way.

We went out in the yard. I showed you different colored leaves: red, yellow, brown, and green. I made such a big deal over hunting for yellow ones that you started to laugh at me. I made a little pile in front of you. I wish I could freeze that moment—you standing there with all the yellow birch leaves and laughing.

The grass was long and lush and damp. How happy you were picking up wet acorns and muddy pine cones.

I remember the first time I saw this house, looking up at the swing set on the hill and thinking what a great place this would be to raise a child. That was before we had decided for sure to have children, and before we had decided for sure to buy a house. So strongly did that feeling persist that we felt sad about not buying this house, but it was just too expensive. The asking price dropped again, though. We snatched up the house and now the image is reality. There is a child to play in the yard.

Other people might say, “There’s no neighborhood. Children should be raised in a neighborhood.” But who needs a neighborhood when you have frogs and blackberries and dragonflies and salamanders, and lots and lots of leaves. I hope you will learn to love the outdoors as much as I do.

Love,

Mom

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The Marplethon’s End

It’s so sad that I didn’t have much time to devote to the end of the Marplethon, and even sadder that I don’t have time for more than a few words about each of the last books.

Double Sin and Other Stories by Agatha Christie
Grade: A

I borrowed this collection of short stories from the library because I thought I needed it to finish the Marplethon, but as it turned out, I didn’t. Still, there were some stories in it that I hadn’t read yet, including “Double Sin,” “Wasp’s Next,” “The Theft of the Royal Ruby,” and “The Double Clue” (all of which feature Hercule Poirot) and also “The Last Seance,” a supernatural tale. There are also a couple of Marple stories (“Greenshaw’s Follly” and “Sanctuary”) as well as another supernatural tale, “The Dressmaker’s Doll.” These three also appear in Miss Marple’s Final Cases.

Miss Marple’s Final Cases by Agatha Christie
Grade: A

Miss Marple’s Final Cases contained all three of the stories that I needed to finish the Marplethon: “Sanctuary,” “Miss Marple Tells a Story,” and “Greenshaw’s Folly.” Also included are the four Marple stories from Three Blind Mice and Other Stories.

A Pocket Full of Rye by Agatha Christie
Grade: B+

I wasn’t really looking forward to this one, having seen a BBC version of it on television at some point. It won me over a little bit, though. In this story, someone poisons a businessman. When his body is examined by the police, they find that one of his pockets is full of rye. No one can figure out the significance of this. But then there are more murders, and one of the victims is someone known to Miss Marple, so off she goes to investigate.

Sleeping Murder by Agatha Christie
Grade: A+

Sleeping Murder is, I think, one of Christie’s best mysteries. A newly married couple buy a house, a house chosen by the bride because there is something familiar and welcoming about it. But soon that familiarity starts to scare her, as it draws old and frightening images from her memory. Now, to find out the truth about what happened to her as a child, she must dig deep into the past, a past that someone else doesn’t want disturbed. Miss Marple is just the person to help the couple, but she wonders if it might not be best to let sleeping murder lie…

A Murder is Announced by Agatha Christie
Grade: B+

In A Murder is Announced, and ad from the local newspaper declares, “A murder is announced and will take place on Friday, October 29th, at Little Paddocks, at 6:30 P.M. Friends please accept this, the only intimation.” Though most of the neighbors think it sounds absurd, they’re too curious to stay away, and they are all gathered at the appointed time and place. It’s all supposed to be a game, they assume, but then the lights go out, and when they come back on, there is a body on the floor. Such a strange case can only be solved by someone with a keen understanding of human nature, someone like Miss Jane Marple.

Happy Birthday (again), Agatha Christie. My thanks to you for a great year of reading.

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Location Isn’t Everything

It is a gray day. Chilly. Not the kind of day that draws you out of the house. I wish I were at the seaside enjoying the sun.

Replies Poirot,

The sun shines. The sea is blue. But you forget . . . there is evil everywhere under the sun.

from Evil Under the Sun

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Why I Don’t Relax

Dear Marshall,

I don’t dare relax when watching you. Some people might call me hypervigilant, but you see, I know a few things about you.

  1. If there’s anything dangerous around, you’ll find it.
  2. Everything goes into your mouth.

Yesterday, you were playing in the child-proofed dining room while I was cooking in the kitchen. I noticed that you were making noises like your mouth was full and my “something’s not right” bump started to itch. I said, “What do you have in your mouth?” It’s a valid question, but the stupidest thing I could possibly ask you, since you always take it as a cue to run. So I chased you around the table a few times, finally caught up with you, and stuck my finger into your mouth. Thanks for biting me, by the way.

What I found was a small piece of broken glass. And I could tell, as soon as I let you go, that you still had something in your mouth. So around and around we went again, and with new toothmarks on my finger, I pulled out another chunk of glass, this one rather large. The glass was fractured, so I figured the first small piece had broken off of it. But that made me wonder, did you swallow any other small pieces?

After many phone calls, tears, and a trip to the urgent medical care office, the simple answer was this: if you had swallowed any, it would probably just pass through you harmlessly. Lucky for you, it was like safety glass, not terribly sharp.

I was relieved, but not relaxed. Never relaxed. I know you too well. And I love you all the more for it.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Your father and I still have no idea where you found the glass.

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Less Love, More Mockery

As you may remember, I once reviewed a book called Dragondoom by Dennis L. McKiernan. I gave it a positive review in spite of all its silliness. It is a special book, I think. Recently, as part of the GLP, I decided to read the other five McKiernan books in my collection. I was hoping they’d be special books, too.

I started with The Dark Tide, book one of The Iron Tower trilogy.

The Dark Tide by Dennis L. McKiernan
Grade: B

In The Dark Tide, some young Wee Folk (a.k.a. warrows) set out to become Thornwalkers, defenders of their land. But war is afoot. The High King has summoned warriors to his keep, and these warrows are part of a company sent to answer the call. The enemy, Modru, has cast a magical pall upon the sun and now his minions, ordinarily slain by the merest touch of sun, can roam the land at will. He sends a mighty Horde to conquer the world. Clear-sighted and extraordinarily skilled at archery, the warrows quickly become indispensable to the King and his men, and though they are small, their roles in the struggle against Modru will be great.

Just like Dragondoom, this book suffers from silly language and even sillier dialogue. Cliches abound. Characters who are angry or anxious are always hitting inanimate objects with their fists. Characters who are concerned about loved ones almost always have a sense of foreboding, usually with an unnecessary adjective, like “dire” or “chill.” The exposition is handled poorly. The characters are flat. Still and all, I rather enjoyed the story and decided to continue on to the second book, Shadows of Doom.

Shadows of Doom by Dennis L. McKiernan
Grade: F

In Shadows of Doom, the similarities with Tolkien become so unmistakable that they’re annoying. The reason for the similarities, says the Wikipedia article on McKiernan, is that he first deliberately wrote a sequel to The Lord of the Rings simply because he was a fan. He could not get permission from Tolkien’s estate to publish it, though. McKiernan’s publisher then asked him to rewrite the story using different names and also to write a prequel to support it. The prequel (this trilogy) therefore has to have characters and events that mirror Tolkien’s in order for the original work to make any sense.

It sounds plausible and it explains a lot. We will ignore the fact that an elf, a man, a dwarf, and a Hobbit (excuse me, Warrow) can’t get across the mountains because of the evil enemy and are forced to take a route underground through an ancient Dwarven home that was abandoned by the dwarves when they delved too deep and unearthed a dreadful monster. We will ignore the fact that there is a dark lake near the door and that the lake contains a many-armed monster that forces them through the hidden door, the key to which is a single word. All of this, and more, is forgiven.

The problem is that McKiernan’s version of the story just isn’t nearly as good. His descriptions of the characters’ journeys, for example, are so utterly dull that I started skimming. Let me give you an example. I have shortened the paragraphs for your convenience, but there’s enough of the original text to give you the gist.

When they took up the trek again, their course bore due south … <boring descriptions> … And the farther south they trod, the less they saw of the ancient pave they followed …

Some nine hours they strode, faring ever southward … <a character has a “vague” sense of foreboding> …

Another hour they walked …

But then: “Hoy , ahead,” said Tuck. “Something looms, barring our way. I cannot say what. Perhaps a mountain.” <dialogue about what it might be>

Onward they strode, Tuck’s gaze seeking to see what stood across their way. … <more dialogue>

Onward they pressed …

Etc.

Nothing about it flows naturally. Notice the word “pave.” Always, the author uses an archaic, peculiar, or uncommon word when a simple term would suffice (e.g., “road”). You get used to it. Sometimes it’s even fun. But it can get on your nerves after a while.

Even skimming, the story finally got so painfully bad that I gave up. I say this knowing from my own unfortunate experience that someone of his acquaintance might find this blog and make me feel sorry I was so critical. Yet I have to be honest. The book isn’t good. Since I couldn’t finish it, I must give it an F, and I won’t mention it on my Book Love page.

I have so little time for reading, I cannot take the risk that the remainder of the five books will be as bad. That means five new victims of the GLP: the whole of The Iron Tower trilogy (The Dark Tide, Shadows of Doom, and The Darkest Day), as well as Trek to Kraggen-Cor and Voyage of the Fox Rider. May they find readers who will love them.

To Mr. McKiernan or any of his friends or family or fans who should happen upon this blog:

Sorry. I just didn’t like these two books. I also don’t like broccoli or jazz or basketball, so please don’t take it personally.

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Mind Your Own Business

Poirot knew what he was about.

Murder is my business. And it is my business before it has happened as well as afterward.

From “Wasps’ Nest”

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The Weekly Poirot

How far would I have to go back in my memory to reach a time when I didn’t know who Agatha Christie was?  I remember playing Trivial Pursuit while on vacation at my grandparents’ lake cottage. I was maybe 10 years old. One of the questions was “Who is the most translated author of all time?” (or something like that). I answered Agatha Christie, and I was right!

Hercule Poirot is also a name I’ve known a long, long time. Miss Marple got all the glory during the last year, and now I’d like to give Poirot a little attention, too. I’m not ready to commit to another reading marathon, so I’ve decided to do something different. I’m going to try to post a weekly snippet about Poirot.

And here is the first!

Wisdom from Hercule Poirot regarding the mustaches—

It is an art, . . . the growing of the mustache! I have sympathy for all who attempt it!

A criminal is either clean shaven or he has a proper mustache that can be removed at will.

from “Double Sin” in Double Sin and Other Stories

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