It’s always a delight to read Christie is such robust health, however - something one comes to appreciate more and more having worked largely chronologically through her oeuvre. Yes, it had a cogency and precision that At Bertram’s Hotel (1965) and Nemesis (1971) sorely needed, but in all honesty the sound and fury on display here signifies something that doesn’t even add up to a hill o’ beans, if you’ll forgive my mixing of classics. Agatha Christie famously wrote the final novels to feature her two biggest sleuths well ahead of their publication, and where Hercule Poirot’s swansong Curtain (1975) was a joyous return to the heights for a character she had grown weary of, Sleeping Murder (1976) - the last hurrah for Miss Jane Marple, a character you can’t help but feel Christie had a growing respect for as she aged - is…fine.
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