She did it again. She got me. It has been decades since I read Agatha Christie, enough time to have disarmed me against her singular skill. What a delicate balance it must be to write a whodunnit that is at once solvable by the reader, and completely unsolvable. The masterstroke of the genre is the feeling at the end of revealing the reader to have been a dunce, inspiring in her or him the thought "Why didn't I see it before?"
When combined with Christie's gift for believable dialogue and character, and just a touch of insight into human nature, this volume is the very definition of a good summer read: engaging and enjoyable, but contemplative and rewarding. As I always say after reading something that takes me less than a week, "I should read more of these."
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