This is a weird one. Apparently (I looked this up, because the book was so weird) Christie wrote a series of short stories about Poirot for some magazine and these stories were mashed together into this book. You can sort of tell that something like this is up, because the mashing didn't work all that well and things still seem a little disjointed. But really, the main problem here is that Poirot is fighting a team of supervillains, and he uses disguises and smoke bombs and has to find their secret underground lair and the whole thing is just...odd. It comes off like Poirot fan fiction. I mean, he's the same character and all that, but the things he is doing are just not what I want Poirot to do. And the supervillains make no sense. They are a Chinese mastermind, a French woman scientist, an American billionaire, and an English master of disguise. How did these people get together? Why are they a team? Do they have any motive to speak of? They just want to take over the world and cause anarchy, for some reason. Sometimes Christie has characters talk of this "big four" wanting to cause world revolution "like in Russia", but that fails to clear things up. Are they communists? Why would the billionaire be a communist? I don't want Poirot to fight supervillains. I want him in little English towns, ferreting out murderers who have motives. I like it when priggish British ladies say things like "What on earth are you on about, you batty little man?! Are you accusing me of murder?" to which Poirot says things like "You have, as they say, caught the bird in the bush, Madame. This is exactly what I accuse you of." And then he and Hastings drink sherry or something.
Decided disappointment - or meant to be taken in fun? The plot shapes up like an impossible farce. The conspirators plan to rule the world. "Number One" is the unseen brains, Chinese Li Chang Yen. "Two" is multimillionaire American Soap King Abe Ryland. "Three" is idolized brilliant Parisian chemist Mme Olivier. Their assassin "Number Four" is young actor Claud Darell. Or is he? are they? The elusive Four litters the landscape with corpses as an author's device to add yet another disguise. Captain Hastings contentedly (?) leaves his wife of two years ("2 year itch" rather than 7?) in the Argentine to narrate this year July-July with detective pal Poirot, replaced by identical twin. (Like fictional TARDIS time-traveler alien Doctor Who, I cry in shock, "What! .. What!") Dying words (repeatedly, improbably) provide key clues. The unlikely climax does not even follow the usual formula. The full guilty team do not assemble together and incriminate themselves. Crucially, Poirot has a soft spot for a flamboyant Russian Countess - Rossakoff, who also appears in the deservedly unpublished Poirot short Capture of Cerebrus http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/... . (view spoiler)[ His susceptibility here is key to saving the day / world. (hide spoiler)]
Do You like book The Big Four (2015)?
أكثر ما أعجبني فيها هو أن الأحداث تشرح نفسها بطريقة جميلة جداً، لا تحتاج للكثير من التفكير من قبل القارئ وفي نفس الوقت لن تجدها مباشرة أمامك فـ أحياناً قد تضطر لقراءة أحد الفصول مرة أخرى . يعيبها أن بعض التفاصيل الدقيقة غير قابلة للتصديق بسهولة، لكن بالنهاية هذه رواية ومستحيل أن يكون جميع ما ذُكر فيها صحيحاً وواقعياً 100% . يعيبها أيضاً أن النهاية لم تكن على مستوى إثارة الأحداث التي مرت بها الرواية النهاية سريعة جداً ورغم انها ليست نهاية مفتوحة لكنها لم تشفي غليلي للأسف .في النهاية هي مناسبة لمن ليس لديه خلفية عن الروايات البوليسية أو الأفلام أيضاً مثلي، يستطيع أن يقرأها ويفهمها ويتخيل تفاصيلها دون أي مشكلة ..
—حسام خليل
Dana wrote: "I think this bizarre example of Christie's work has a lot to do with both the initial newspaper serialization and the fact that this was the first book written after her 1926 disappearance. It defi..."Oh, certainly, Dana - Connery has no excuse whatsoever and should be ashamed of himself. Christie does have a history of racial insensitivity, though, which is partly informed by the prejudices of her time. For a writer who managed to put so many nationalities and ethnicities into her books, she certainly ran roughshod over quite a few of them - as a reader in 2015 (or 2014 as this was) who has loved Captain Hastings since Murder on the Links, I can still give him and his author a hard time over the ridiculous pantomime 1920s racism. Because, damn!
—Fiona
I hesitate to use the word "awful" in association with the Queen of Crime, but this is a bad egg. Penned (some say ghost-written) during Dame Agatha's worst year: In 1926, her mother died and her husband told her he was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce. No wonder she was off her game, poor dear.Originally published in serial format, this cluster of overblown spy adventures should never have featured portly, inactive Poirot & clueless Hastings as the heroes. They just don't fit. James Bond and Tintin would have been better choices for the roles.Moving away from subtle clues and hidden motives, Christie seems to have written a movie script for Michael Bay to direct. There are poisoned blow darts disguised as cigarettes, evil Russian countesses, underground lairs, ninja smoke bombs, mountain fortresses... it's absurdly OTT.Oh, and the racism. Yikes! Asian people, I apologize for this woeful bag of stereotyped, insulting nonsense. Fu Manchu looks good next to Li Chang Yen and Ah Ling. So embarrassing. As Christie would say, "I welly sorry." *cringe*Leave this one on the shelf, and go read one of Christie's slow-paced village mysteries; they're so much better. If you're desperate for an international spy thriller by her, try 'The Man in the Brown Suit' instead.
—Moira Fogarty
