I’ve always loved detective stories, but I’ve found myself drawn to them more and more this year. I think it’s largely because there’s a real attraction, given how broadly uncertain things are, in knowing that by the end of these books, the puzzle will be solved, loose ends tied up, and justice served. So I’ve been reading a lot of mysteries.
Since I re-read Agatha Christie’s books on a fairly regular basis, I decided to branch out this year and find some other authors (though for Christie recommendations, this is a great guide from the New York Times on where to start with her extensive catalog) and have highlighted a few of my favorites in this issue. Enjoy!
Cheers,
Zaneta
What I’ve been reading
After Agatha Christie’s Poirot, Dorothy L. Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey is my favorite literary detective and The Five Red Herrings is one of his trickiest cases. As the title suggests, there are a lot of puzzles and false leads for Lord Peter to sort through as he tries to solve the murder of an artist in a colony in Scotland, and the sizable cast of suspects — all of whom appear to be hiding something — highlight Sayers’ particular skill and gift of characterization.
Smaller and Smaller Circles by F.H. Batacan is an excellent procedural crime-thriller that stands out for its perfectly realized sense of place and powerful social commentary. Winner of the Philippine National Book Awards, it follows two Jesuit priests and forensic experts as they navigate political maneuvering, limited resources, and corruption while investigating a string of brutal murders in Payatas, a 50-acre dumpsite northeast of Manila’s Quezon City.
Written in 1939 by mystery fiction critic Anthony Boucher, The Case of the Crumpled Knave is very much a classic closed circle mystery and a prime exemplar of the Golden Age of Detective Fiction. Where it stands out is for its setting (a Los Angeles mansion instead of an English stately house), engaging characters (the irrepressible private detective Fergus O’Breen and the dignified Colonel Rand) and the unique playing cards theme (the murder victim is a card afficionado and collector) which is well integrated throughout the novel without becoming too overpowering.
In Lucy Foley’s The Hunting Party a group of thirtysomething college friends gather to ring in the New Year at an isolated luxury retreat in the Scottish Highlands, but old secrets and resentments quickly disrupt the festive mood. When one of them is killed while a blizzard cuts the lodge off from the rest of the world, the tension ratchets up and accusations fly wildly as they struggle to identify the murderer in their midst. Quick-paced, atmospheric and suspenseful, it’s an excellent modern whodunit.
Set in 1920s India, The Widows of Malabar Hill by Sujata Massey follows Perveen Mistry, Bombay's only female lawyer, as she investigates a suspicious will on behalf of three Muslim widows living in full purdah. Inspired by the true stories of Cornelia Sorabji, the first woman to graduate from the University of Bombay, the first woman to read law at Oxford, and India’s first female solicitor, and Mithan Tata Lam, a fellow Oxford graduate and the first Indian female barrister admitted to the Bombay High Court in 1923, the novel is a compelling packed with historical detail and engaging characters.
Shorter reads
If you’re looking for a quicker read, here are some articles and essays I’ve enjoyed lately:
I love mystery TV almost as much as I love mystery novels (PSA: every episode of Poirot is available for free on YouTube) and it may be satire but I fully co-sign all the pitches in this New Yorker piece on “British Mystery Shows I Would Watch.”
Harry Styles is the first man to appear solo on the cover of American Vogue and, if you somehow missed the internet collectively losing their minds over it, I highly recommend checking out the profile and accompanying (iconic, gender bending) photoshoot, as well as this thoughtful Instagram post from gender non-conforming writer and performance artist Alok Vaid-Menon on the importance of celebrating this unprecedented moment while also recognizing that it could only happen because of the resistance of trans femmes of color who continue to face backlash and persecution for the creative expression Styles is being celebrated for.
For Vox, Rachel Sugar asks “What was fun?” in this excellent, well-researched piece on why we’re all struggling to have fun in 2020.
“White people don’t season their food” may be a ubiquitous dunk these days but this NPR piece revealed a lot I didn’t know about the historical context behind the stereotype: “How Snobbery Helped Take The Spice Out Of European Cooking.”
“It never hurts to look after yourself physically, emotionally, and (whatever this means for you) spiritually. But I don’t think we’re giving enough consideration to another significant factor, which is that NO! NO! I DON’T WANNA!” Jess Zimmerman makes the case for adult tantrums as self-care.
Subscriber recommendations
This week’s personalized recommendations are for Marisa, who is looking for books that are “uplifting, immigrant experiences, historical, parenting special needs children, humorous.” With that in mind, my top picks for Marisa are:
Anthony Doerr’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel All the Light We Cannot See, which remains one of my all time favorite works of historical fiction. The book follows a blind French girl and a German boy whose paths collide in occupied France as both try to survive the devastation of World War II. Despite its unflinching account of wartime horrors and suffering, it’s surprisingly joyous and uplifting and marked by Doerr’s beautiful, masterfully evocative language, tight pacing, and rich detail leave a lasting impression.
A Place For Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza is an epic family saga that is at once intimate and wide-ranging. The novel jumps backwards and forwards through time and shifts between various various perspectives to tell the story of a Indian-American Muslim family living in northern California. Packed with intricate domestic details, it’s a compelling tale of love, family, cruelty, and compassion.
In her memoir, All You Can Ever Know Nicole Chung, a Korean-American adoptee who was raised by a white family in Oregon, tells the story of her search for her biological roots, which coincided with the birth of her own child. A thoughtful reflection on parenthood, identity, culture, and the ethics of transracial adoption, the book is incredibly moving and a testament to Chung’s skill, self-awareness, and radical openness.
As a reminder, I’ll be sharing curated reading recommendations for a random subscriber every issue so if you’d like to put your name in the draw, please fill out this quick form!
I want to hear from you!
If you decide to read anything I’ve recommended — let me know what you think! And if you have any thoughts or feedback on this issue, or reading recommendations you’d like to share with me, I’d love to hear those too. Feel free to comment below or email me directly at zanetapereira@hotmail.com.
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