Okay, she can write. That's how she made her name, I suppose - sold a few books. And as ever there's an economy of style - "it's the narrative, Stupid". Christie doesn't waste words; she keeps us on the action. I was surprised in a "that's interesting way" to find myself making a link between Agatha Christie, The Doors and William Blake. After that came a slight disappointment. Endless Night, as expected, is rich with fantastic characters and intrigue. To resolve her complex mystery, however - no, I didn't guess who did it - Christie does a complete character make-over towards the end; the villain suddenly acquires qualities, a history that had not been there before. This left me imagining that the villain was a convenience - someone had to be guilty; and more importantly I imagined that like me Christie did not know who did it until she had invented her convenience. The novel then loses its sense of being crafted from the start, clever clues and distractions woven into the plot - there were none. As a result I will take a pause from her mysteries for now. I will only return when I have forgiven her. This should not take too long.
