This project is a work of FICTION, Any resemblance between characters in these stories, and persons (living or deceased) , as well as places or organizations in the 'real world' are entirely coincidental.
~Author's Note~
Mystery to Me!
To begin with, the stories in this collection may not necessarily be a continuum, rather more of a patchwork of perspectives I wanted to explore, under the banner of "WHAT IF....?" all contributing to the life of a man who seemed to be more appreciated by readers and, by extension, series fans, than he ever was by the woman who supposedly created him.Hercule Poirot's story was brought to three dimensional life because British television producer Brian Eastman; a Poirot fan (novels) pitched the series concept to Rosiland Hicks (Agatha Christie's daughter) and her husband, who both liked the idea. They even went so far as to recommend the actor for the role; David Suchet. A recommendation shared by Peter Ustinov, with whom David shared the screen, a few years earlier (Thirteen For Dinner) ; playing Poirot to David's Chief Inspector Japp. When David agreed to give it a go, he was invited to dine with Rosiland and Anthony; unaware that he would be just about served up as the main course. Their singular insistence was that Poirot was to be treated with RESPECT. "People can laugh WITH Poirot but they must not be allowed to laugh AT him."
A reasonable request to make, on the surface of it, but what of the complete LACK of respect Poirot had received, via Rosiland's own mother, who had precious few kind words for the Belgian detective. If David's respect was expected then why didn't Agatha Christie, Poirot's so-called creator, share that same regard?
"Conceited little Creep" was just one of Agatha's gems, aimed in Poirot's direction, but her most vitriolic attacks was one I WISH had been heard, way back when.
"WHY, OH WHY DID I EVER CREATE THAT DETESTABLE, BOMBASTIC LITTLE CREATURE?"
Imagine THAT statement being heard by the wrong person or persons. A writer for a mystery writer's magazine, for example. Or a reporter for a newspaper . Agatha's career would have gone down faster than the Titanic in the vortex of the Bermuda Triangle! Oh, don't I wish! Sadly, there would be no Poirot, had such a scenario played out. On the other hand, Poirot wouldn't have to put up with his own version of Lady Boynton, either.
So, let's look at the word DETESTABLE in its full meaning, shall we? According to the Oxford dictionary of current English (2001) Detestable is defined as; DESERVING INTENSE DISLIKE.
- Child rapists are DETESTABLE, Agatha!
- Spousal abuse is DETESTABLE!!!
- Nazis and White supremacists, marching down an AMERICAN street and the President of the United States shrugging it off in 2017 . THIS IS DETESTABLE!
- The terrorist attacks of 9/11 and others, before and since.
- A fiction author, spewing hatred against her own creation. ESPECIALLY when that character only wanted to make a positive difference in the world and NEVER did anything wrong to her!
And, speaking of Nazis, it's important to note, here, that Agatha Christie lived through TWO world wars. Count 'em; 1. 2. World War 1( July 28th 1914-November 11, 1918) and World War 2 (1939-1945) . NOT a small thing, right?! World War 2, alone should have been enough to focus Aggie's attention on more worthy targets of such loathing. Hitler! Now HE was the personification of the words BOMBASTIC and DETESTABLE. If ANYONE was DESERVING OF INTENSE DISLIKE, it was the BOMBASTIC LITTLE CREATURE who screeched his diatribes over the airwaves of Germany and the world! Someone who would have his soldiers drop bombs on London, in an attempt to force British capitulation to his demands. Thank God for Winston Churchill, that didn't happen!
To Agatha, he wasn't as bad as Poirot![/caption]
It's no small irony that, while Ze Fuhrer and his minions were Goose-Stepping their way across Europe; displacing millions from their homes and herding them into death camps, Agatha was ridding herself of someone she despised worse than the German megalomaniac who could reduce Britain to rubble, unless he was stopped.
But hey! If I had a choice, I'd prefer having my house reduced to ruins rather than having my mantle-piece knick-knacks symmetrically re-arranged. God, NO! Anything but that! (Please tell me you hear the sarcasm!)
Lady, you have GOT to be KIDDING ME!
But then, if you've read the novel, Curtain {Poirot's Last Case} Agatha's disdain for Poirot is clear in what we DON'T see. In the course of the series, Poirot had been to at least six funerals. I'm guessing wild, here, but let's just say.... Okay, he'd been to six funerals, and participated in...who knows how many cases, on his own or with a colleague (Japp or Hastings). He'd saved a couple of people, at least, from certain death on the gallows, proved to one girl (Norma Resterick ) that she wasn't going mad and, even very near the end of his life, prevented the deaths of many by ending the life of a sociopath, who ingeniously skated JUST outside the rule of law to casually bring about those deaths. Still, Poirot felt guilt at what he'd done, even if it did serve a greater good. The killer? He smirked, even when a loaded gun was aimed 'dead center' of his forehead.
Somehow, though, for all of those efforts, what did Poirot receive from Agatha by way of a THANK YOU? As a well-known British saying goes, 'Not a sausage'. In the novel, he was found, dead, in his bed, by his temp help, Curtiss~ who was a total stranger to fans, with no emotional connection. Little wonder, since Agatha had no emotional connection to the end of Hercule Poirot's life. Well, maybe I shouldn't say that. After all, JOY is an emotion, isn't it? (Yes, more sarcasm).
On the flip-side of Agatha Christie's apathy, screenwriter Kevin Elyot (sadly, no longer with us) wrote a brilliant screenplay; using the Chopin score 'Raindrop Prelude' to underscore the start of the movie . The most difficult time I've ever had, getting through the opening minutes of a film! The scene below was no cake-walk either! That was because, contrary to the rather cut and dried statement contained in the book, Poirot got to ask Hastings a very important question;
"I have always tried to do my best. You do believe that, don't you?"
A statement Hastings cannot help but attest to, surprised as he might have been, to hear such an inquiry from his longtime friend. But the next question from the ailing Poirot threw me right off balance. "Do you think God will forgive me?" Poirot asks, no doubt referring to his actions in dealing with 'X' . Hastings, not aware of how 'X' ended up dead, thinks Poirot is talking about his life, his work in general, and, to some degree, maybe he was. More so, though, Poirot was concerned with how God would judge him, based on what he felt he had to do. Oh, that I could have been there to answer that question! Smiling through my tears I would have said, "All you have to do is ask Him."
And if you haven't started blubbing yet, when Poirot said to his friend, "My poor lonely Hastings..." I was a goner!
But again, for everything Hercule Poirot had accomplished, in his last days, alone, Agatha could not see fit to give the man a decent send-off, Scotland Yard style. It wouldn't have cost her a cent in funeral expenses. Just some time. But she couldn't be bothered to part with that time for someone she wished she'd never created. I could say more about that, but I'll just start and finish by hinting; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle , Sherlock Holmes, and re-modeling job.
Good God, woman! What did the man do? Run over your dog? Rape your daughter?! Kill your Husband?!? WHAT did POIROT do to you, to deserve such malicious treatment?!?
He wouldn't get a love story from Agatha anymore than he could expect a decent funeral. Seriously, Poirot had BEEN to better funerals than he got! Instead, he would die alone and be buried on the untended grounds of a rundown mansion, where, a whole lifetime ago, he had solved the murder mystery of a woman (Emily Inglethorp) who had given Poirot and seven other Belgian refugees sanctuary after the start of World WarAbout now, Agatha loyalists will insist that Poirot chose not to marry. Just the way he chose to be buried in a wreck of a back yard!
First off, no character, regardless of how much the actor contributed to his humanity, is 100% autonomous. Best case scenario, the writer and the character agree on a situation. However, if it comes down to a grudge match, the author would win.
Unfortunately, this was one of those cases. Agatha Christie callously deprived Poirot of so much without cause. Was there not sufficient cruelty in this woman's world that she felt justified in treating a hero like something she'd scrape off the bottom of her shoe?
Well, Aggie's dead now, and since she showed Poirot no respect, this fan fiction writer will turn the tables on Aggie, In SPADES! (Ain't payback's a Bitch?!) In at least three (hopefully engaging) dramas, I will bestow upon Monsieur Hercule Poirot what Agatha deprived him of, with an added surprise tossed in, by way of a Post Script.
Happy Reading!
Johanna
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