Friday, June 12, 2015

Best. Book. Ever?

No maybe not. I recently read 'The Murder of Roger Ackroyd', supposedly one of the best books of Agatha Christie. 

Christie's books have always helped me passed time. I have neither read it with the intensity of reading an 'Archer', nor with the disinterest of an 'Adiga'(Sincerest apologies. He just doesn't excite me.). The 'Queen', she may be of mystery and detection, but my interest in her has been only superficial.
(Oh, hey, I haven't read the 'Miss Marple' ones yet.)

Of course, the start left me no clues of it being her best. It was as slow and well-planned as her brainchild - Poirot. Now, about the man himself. Reading about him leaves one thinking about how the queer Belgian(Spoiler?) ever became a detective. His demeanour is not one of the range of Dick Tracy, James Bond,.. You get the idea. Not a professional. But leave him to his craft and he dispels the image of Closeau, "comme ça". This is Hercule Poirot in general.

I can hear you, I'm coming to the part about the book NOW! 
Why this book? Why am I reviewing this one specifically? Unique? Yes. But why? One has to first associate a 'touch of class' with Christie's pen. She's not just an ordinary author. Add to it, a note of suspense throughout, a narrator(It helps. Really, it does!), and a twist along the levels of 'Fight Club'. There you go! You now have got a book on your 'To-Do List'.
While I found 'The Murder on the Orient Express', a masterpiece, I find this one edges it. This one is not just a 'whodunit'. I assure you this is THE 'whodunit'. 

EDIT : Add 'Fight Club' to your watchlists, if you haven't watched it.