Sing a Song of Sixpence by Agatha Christie

The Queen was in the parlor, eating bread an honey.

This month’s Agatha Christie short story pick, Sing a Song of Sixpence, turned out to be a bit of a letdown. Not bad, just...a little forgettable. It lacks the twisty, spellbinding flair we know Dame Agatha is more than capable of delivering. Instead, we get a rather subdued tale that meanders to an underwhelming conclusion. Maybe not featuring Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple, soured my overall enjoyment. 

The story follows Sir Edward Palliser, a retired criminologist whose quiet life is interrupted by a visit from an old flame. The most disturbing part of the whole story is that she was 17 years old when they were romantically involved while he much older. Yikes. Anyways, she wants him to investigate her wealthy aunt’s suspicious death, which the police have already chalked up as unsolvable. She's convinced one of her siblings is behind it, and Edward reluctantly agrees to step in, perhaps out of guilt or a long-forgotten sense of chivalry.

The mystery itself feels pretty thin and despite a somewhat promising setup, there’s very little tension or urgency. The resolution hinges on a conveniently remembered nursery rhyme, which feels a bit too neat and tidy for my liking. All in all, Sing a Song of Sixpence remains innocuous and it’s definitely not Christie at her best. Here's hoping next month's selections showcase Agatha Christie's talents in full force!

Ingots of Gold by Agatha Christie

Shiver me timbers.

I can hardly believe it’s already June. How is the year halfway over?! Time is zipping by way too fast for my liking. On the bright side, a new month means diving (pun intended) into more Agatha Christie short stories, thanks to the reading challenge hosted by Fanda ClassicLit.

This month's pick is Ingots of Gold from the Thirteen Problems collection, featuring the ever-delightful Miss Marple, even though it's more of a cameo appearance. In this story, it’s Raymond West’s turn to present a mystery to the detective club. If you need a refresher, Raymond is Miss Marple’s nephew and was the host of the club’s very first meeting. He shares a tale from his visit to a friend in Cornwall, a bold adventurer with a keen interest in uncovering sunken treasures. The big buzz in town? A large galleon that supposedly went down nearby, loaded with a massive haul of gold ingots has vanished! This has left many locals perplexed, including Raymond, since the gold was super heavy and nearly impossible to remove from the watery depths. Suspicion soon falls on a cantankerous and shady innkeeper who might be running a cove smuggling operation. Raymond also meets an inspector on the train to Cornwall who has been assigned to this case and as he spends more time in the village, it becomes more difficult to shake off the feeling of impending dread. Something sinister is going on here and Raymond soon finds himself unexpectedly involved with trying to help his friend track down the missing treasure. Toss in few other curious characters, a kidnapping gone awry, drop some red herrings and we’ve got ourselves a good ol’ fashioned Agatha Christie whodunnit mystery. 

True to form, Miss Marple listens quietly before cutting through the fluff with her trademark insight, especially when it comes to gardening. She also keenly points out Raymond’s flair for drama as a writer, which often clouds his judgment. Sometimes the simplest explanation really is the right one. 

While the big reveal at the end isn't particularly memorable, Christie’s storytelling is impeccable. Her ability to craft such a tightly woven mystery within such a compressed narrative space is quite impressive. The story is fast-paced with just enough intrigue to deliver that satisfying dopamine hit before you’re off to the next story.

A Harlem Tragedy by O. Henry

What happens to a dream deferred? 

A Harlem Tragedy by O. Henry has definitely not aged well and trying to take it seriously from a 21st-century perspective is almost impossible. It's a bizarre snapshot of the early 1900s, back when “real men” (read: Alpha males with questionable morals) showed their love by punching their wives in the face. Apparently, in this twisted logic, domestic violence was not only an expression of patriarchal control but also a romantic prelude to gift-giving. You know, just your classic “I hit you because I love you” kind of nonsense.

The plot centers around two married couples living in the same apartment building. The wives are friends, but one is jealous of the other. Not because her friend’s life is better, but because her husband routinely beats her up. Meanwhile, her own husband is a total bore who is more invested in reading the newspaper than giving her a shiner. She performs her domestic wifely duties of cooking and cleaning while he works all day. She becomes increasingly frustrated with their stagnant marriage, wishing that he would a real man and beat her senseless because then she’ll finally feel seen and loved.

The whole story is cringe-worthy and while the "twist ending" suggests that maybe it's supposed to be a satire about gender roles and masculinity, none of it landed for me. Moreover, since the story is set in Harlem, it raises another eyebrow: are these characters supposed to be black? It’s never made clear, but if they are, that would add another layer of clumsy, ignorant, tone-deaf storytelling to O. Henry’s résumé. This is a terrible, head-shaking, “what-did-I-just-read?” kind of mess. 

Save yourself the time and skip this one.