The Red House Mystery (edició 2014)

I picked up 'The Red House Mystery' because I was intrigued by the idea of the author of 'Winnie The Pooh' writing a country house locked room mystery in 1922. The introduction, written four years after the publication of the book, was amusing and witty and augered well for a fun read.

Unfortunately, the book turned out to be too much of a meringue for me: finely crafted on the outside but with nothing of substance to chew on. Neither the situation nor the characters feel real, nor are they meant to. This is less a crime novel and more a tongue-in-cheek thought experiment about how a locked room mystery ought to be solved if a chap was gifted with strong powers of observation, an excellent memory and good reasoning skills. The murder is important only in so far as one is needed in order for there to be a locked room mystery to solve. The bright and brittlely droll amateur detective is mostly a plot device and the authorial voice is knowing and lightheaded, continually inviting the reader to acknowledge the whole exercise is a mere bagatelle, designed to amuse rather than challenge.

It's nicely done, in its way but, having reached the halfway mark, I find that I lack the motivation to go any further. The meringue, once bitten into, provides very little nourishment and the taste, however sweet, becomes monotonous.

I can see that this is meant as a light entertainment and is barely a step away from a Live Action Role Playing game but it has lost its appeal, partly through lack of traction and partly because I find the three-men-in-a-boat type of boy-men who are doing the investigating impossible to relate to except negatively. My lip instinctively curls at every bit of good chap banter.

So this goes back to the library with the mystery unsolved (at least by me) but I shan't lose any sleep over that.

I picked this up as a curiosity, a mystery novel by the author of Winnie-the-Pooh, and it turns out to be stellar puzzle solving. Its structure is wonderfully different to what else I've read. The investigator Anthony almost immediately picks up on irregularities in others' behaviour and unravels secrets at a hare's pace that keeps the story rocketing ahead. No slow build-up through interviewing multiple suspects, no having to guess at the broad outlines of what he is piecing together as he goes along, only the details he hints at that he is still uncertain of. That could sap the novel of some of its suspense, but there is always the thought: what if he is wrong? Will it continue to unfold as he predicts at each step, or will everything go unexpectedly sideways? Bill is the Watson-like sidekick (the comparison is made overt) who is caught up in the adventure and frustration of it all, as he struggles to keep up. The reader can play either role. ( )

Before there was Winnie-the-Pooh, Christopher Robins, Eeyore and Piglet, there was murder most foul. Before there was murder most foul, there was a stint as editor of Punch, a British weekly magazine of humour and satire published until 2002.

Now I don't see a huge influence of the murder most foul at the house on Pooh corner, but Punch definitely left its mark on The Red House Mystery. A.A. Milne set out to write a traditional mystery following all the 'rules' of fair play, and he took the plotting very seriously, but that did not keep him from planting his tongue firmly in his cheek while he wrote the story. It's alive with small jokes aimed at Holmes and Watson, mysteries in general, and at the characters themselves.

As such, it's a great mystery - heaps of fun to read, if sometimes it felt a tad long. I thought to only give it four stars for this reason, but I'm giving it the benefit of the doubt for two reasons: I read this while flat out with hideous, unrelenting back pain, and I read the introduction. The former might be more obvious than the latter, but Milne was very careful in his introduction, to state his desire to play fair and make sure the reader had all the same clues as the amateur detective. So I might have over-focused on recognising the clues instead of enjoying the ride.

Not that it did me an ounce of good. By the time the denouement arrived I had no idea who did it or why. I can't say the ending was a massive ::gasp:: shock, but it was definitely not anti-climatic.

I wouldn't' suggest for a moment that the world could have done with less Winnie-the-Pooh, but it is a shame that Milne didn't write more than this one murder mystery. I can't help but wonder if this was his first effort, what future bafflement, wonder and entertainment he might have achieved with a bit more practice.

(For the Golden Age of Crime bingo, this could be used for Singleton, or Birth of the Golden Age of Crime) ( )

This was a nice diversion — a good story and mystery, with some humor. I usually don't even try to figure out the killer in a whodunit, and I didn't this time, either. Still, I was a bit miffed when the conclusion brought in elements that the reader wasn't aware of before then. ( )

Revisiting the Golden Age of Mystery, this novel by Winnie the Pooh's creator has so many of the tropes common in English mysteries between the wars – manor house, troops of house party guests of various sorts, scads of servants, slow witted police, secret passage ways and general upper class behavior. It also has a nifty plot, slowly revealed. I enjoyed it, though on reflection some of the plot turns seem forced. ( )