stapsreads: 'The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who cannot read them' (Default)
More of the same: theatrical murder told largely from the point of view of Nigel Bathgate. Trollerific prologue notwithstanding, I didn't guess the murderer, though wasn't particularly surprised by the revelation. I was rather intrigued by the tension between Inspector Alleyn and Stephanie Vaughan; I don't think I've seen him particularly interested by anyone other than Troy. I think I may need to give Marsh a rest for a few years; they do seem to be increasingly same-y.

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/9859687
stapsreads: 'The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who cannot read them' (Default)
Ngaio Marsh leaves her usual habitat of the professional stage in this one, and descends to the level of amateur theatricals in the village hall. Perhaps fortunately, we never get to see any of them (and I say this as a once-eager participant myself) as the murder happens before the curtain rises on the opening night.

I am getting better at picking up clues that aren't remarked on, and I got the identity of the murderer from one of these. I still can't be bothered to follow through and work out the boring opportunity bits, though. When you know how, you know who, etc, and who cares about when?

Aside from all that, the general setting left a rather nasty taste in my mouth. It was a dotty English village in spades, with not one but two cassock-clingers, and a scheming widow. Misogyny, much? Also Comic Dorset Accents, which made me cringe rather. Generally, an reasonably interesting mystery, but, like pretty much all of Marsh's, nothing that really elevates it to the level of greatness.

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/10065739
stapsreads: 'The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who cannot read them' (Default)
A very late Marsh, published in 1982. The usual characters (Peregrine Jay, Chief Supt Alleyn, Inspector Fox, et al, sadly no Troy) seem remarkably well-preserved. In fact, the only real indications that we are now in the eighties are, firstly, the somewhat more risqué nature of the production, and, secondly, the preoccupation with unions. Otherwise, it's Marsh business as usual, with a good old-fashioned theatre murder, a generally unpleasant villain, a token Maori character and a charismatic leading lady. Nothing special, but generally enjoyable.

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/9968509

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