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Upon Reading 'The Mysterious Affair at Styles'

I finished reading The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christi.  The first book with Hercule Poirot.  
When I came across a certain clue, like a smashed coffee cup, I was afraid that I would remember the ending.  I had seen an episode while in London where the coffee cup was smashed.  While in London, I would hit 18,000 to 21,000 steps by 3pm and would just watch television for an hour or two.  Poirot shows would play back to back on ITV3.  Fortunately I didn’t remember the ending.
Unlike Murder on the Orient Express, even after ten or twenty years of either reading the book or watching a movie rendition, I still remember the ending and figured it out with in ten minutes of watching the latest version.  That ending, for some reason still sticks in my head.

Hastings is kind of like Dr Watson, the loyal sidekick who tells the story.  He’s not as smart as Poirot because Poirot is the detective and at that time they needed to show that the detective or private investigator was so much smarter than the rest.  
Poirot often speaks down to Hastings and Hastings is usually angry at how the detective speaks to him.  Like any real person, he doesn’t like it when others berate or belittle him.  But then Christie then goes and does something worse, she makes him dim and slightly slow witted and he gets frustrated that Poirot figured the mystery out but he didn’t.  Parallel to Dr Watson when Sherlock does the same.
It is possible that Christie did this because of England’s xenophobia, showing that people of other countries can be just as smart.  Poirot being a Belgian is smarter than all the English people.
In Amazon Prime’s adaptation of The ABC Murders, they eliminated Hastings all together.  The story, in my opinion is better without him.

The way the murder was carried out was clever.  Poirot had to have been even more clever.  It was a fun read.

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