Wilbraham Crescent or It Backs Onto Itself

 

Back in 2007 David Suchet had spoken of wanting to complete the filming of all of the Poirot stories by 2011, in which he will have turned 65.   In February 2009 it was announced that another series of four stories has been commissioned by ITV. The four novels comprise "The Clocks," "Three Act Tragedy," "Hallowe'en Party," and "Murder on the Orient Express".

I can't help but think what a rather "Poirotless" film "The Clocks" would be.  It was not until page 112, Chapter 14 that Poirot first made entrance into "The Clocks".  I can't help but think of Agatha Christie's feelings towards the little Belgian, viz.

By 1930, Christie found Poirot 'insufferable', by 1960, she felt that he was a 'detestable, bombastic, tiresome, ego-centric little creep'. Yet Christie claimed that it was her duty to produce what the public liked, and what the public liked was Poirot.

I should hope that I would never feel as a writer about my creation as Christie felt of Poirot.  I can only imagine what she would have created if she killed Poirot off and pursued the writing of which her heart was in. Perhaps, I am glad that she did not.

It was nice of Christie to include Poirot at the end of this story again, to give us the mystery solved.

I very much would like to visit the quaint Wilbraham Crescent one day (which backed in onto itself); though not to visit a blind communist, such as Miss Pebmarsh; nor crazy cat ladies, such as Mrs. Hemmings; and certainly not to visit Sheila Webb, as I absolutely despise her stupid lying face.

I can only agree with Detective Inspector Dick Hardcastle in his opinion of Colin Lamb and his marriage—the man has lost his marbles.

Wheels within wheels within the Crescent that backs in on itself.  That's what made this mystery worthwhile, as well as the short but sweet appearance of Hercule Poirot.  Also, I am a fan of clocks, which are made up of wheels within wheels; and I very much enjoyed Poirot's further elucidating us on the appearance of such clocks, as well as his encyclopedic knowledge of crime fiction.  Unfortunately Hastings was in South America, I believe it was.