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A review by mrsbooknerd
And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie
4.0
I’ve participated in a reading challenge this year to push my reading boundaries and preconceptions. Also to stop me bulk reading Regency Romance novels and longing for me in breeches…
My expectations of ‘And then there were none’ was rather low because I imagined that it would be a rather English and twee story written in a flowery and overly literary style. This was not – for the most part – the case at all. I was genuinely surprised at how much I loved this book and was annoyed that my honeymoon interrupted and stopped me reading it in one sitting.
First impression was that there were far too many characters with rather convoluted histories. How would I remember them all and any on-going plots? Rather easily as it turned out! It helped that the cast was rapidly dwindling, so although there were a great number of characters, they weren’t all around throughout the whole novel.
I rather liked all of the characters; they were all individual with different personalities, pasts and plots. I felt sympathetic toward them, suspicious of them and anxious for them. I was genuinely tense throughout the novel, and yet there wasn’t anything overly sinister about the book, it wasn’t overly creepy or gory. I suppose because it was all so methodical and planned that I felt tense.
I actually suspected the actual killer of being the killer – until a certain event that put me onto a different path – so the ending was genuinely surprising to me. At first I was a little worried that we weren’t going to be told who the killer was! I thought I’d spend the rest of my life wondering. Thankfully this wasn’t the case.
While the writing style was simple but tension building, the characters were empathetic and complex and the plot was wonderfully woven, my favourite element has to be the absolute Britishness of the whole thing. People were being killed left-right and centre, yet the survivors usually got over it, straightened their spines and drank tea together. Sure, there were some internal or muttered suspicions but everyone was so polite to the others.
There was just a delightful moment of machined death and murder, suspicion and tension and then BOOM they’re over it and sitting in the drawing room with tea.
I have always avoided Agatha Christie novels until now, but I'd absolutely read another.
My expectations of ‘And then there were none’ was rather low because I imagined that it would be a rather English and twee story written in a flowery and overly literary style. This was not – for the most part – the case at all. I was genuinely surprised at how much I loved this book and was annoyed that my honeymoon interrupted and stopped me reading it in one sitting.
First impression was that there were far too many characters with rather convoluted histories. How would I remember them all and any on-going plots? Rather easily as it turned out! It helped that the cast was rapidly dwindling, so although there were a great number of characters, they weren’t all around throughout the whole novel.
I rather liked all of the characters; they were all individual with different personalities, pasts and plots. I felt sympathetic toward them, suspicious of them and anxious for them. I was genuinely tense throughout the novel, and yet there wasn’t anything overly sinister about the book, it wasn’t overly creepy or gory. I suppose because it was all so methodical and planned that I felt tense.
I actually suspected the actual killer of being the killer – until a certain event that put me onto a different path – so the ending was genuinely surprising to me. At first I was a little worried that we weren’t going to be told who the killer was! I thought I’d spend the rest of my life wondering. Thankfully this wasn’t the case.
While the writing style was simple but tension building, the characters were empathetic and complex and the plot was wonderfully woven, my favourite element has to be the absolute Britishness of the whole thing. People were being killed left-right and centre, yet the survivors usually got over it, straightened their spines and drank tea together. Sure, there were some internal or muttered suspicions but everyone was so polite to the others.
There was just a delightful moment of machined death and murder, suspicion and tension and then BOOM they’re over it and sitting in the drawing room with tea.
I have always avoided Agatha Christie novels until now, but I'd absolutely read another.