Something Solid

Just finished The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. A bit sad that there was nothing of the wonderful surprise rendered by my first reading of the novel, but happy over being able to enjoy the brilliant construction of the tale. The edition I read featured a nice Postscript celebrating that feature of the work with the claim that a second reading is even more pleasurable when you know whodunnit. I wouldn't go quite as far as that, but there is much to admire, not least the unusual psychological depth involved in the characterisation of the killer. Normally you don't go looking for anything beyond the merely serviceable in Christie's representations of character, with the service in question being strict utility to the clever plots. But in this case the very cleverness involves a sleight of hand in relation to the killer's character that leads to a strange, bleak depth. (I won't say more for fear of giving too much away for those who've never read the book.)

I'm struck by the fact that I know three Singaporeans whose English, both spoken and written is excellent, who've told me that Christie was a key aspect of their reading as young teenagers. In so many ways she is the perfect writer for anyone consolidating their grip of the language. The style is always simple and sturdy, with no pretensions to literariness, yet that simplicity is perfectly achieved. And in Ackroyd it reaches remarkable heights in creating what is surely close to the perfect detective story of the old school.