If you have not read it I will attempt to not spoil anything for you. And if you have read it you will understand why the book was so talked about, so well regarded. A milestone in a career that propelled Agatha Christie to a level of publishing success that was almost biblical, in terms of sales that is.
It is a Poirot novel,the Belgium detective in retirement attempting to grow the perfect marrow. Ah well, Holmes had his bees and Jane Marple had her...er,gossip. Do marrows qualify as root vegetables? Is there a hierachy in vegetables? Anyway, he comes out of retirement as Roger Ackroyd was a friend and what follows is a bewildering feast of clues and red herrings whose ending is pure Poirot, an autopsy of events, a series of revelations that fill one with a sense of "Why did'nt I see that?" as Poirot ,on wiley form, narrates the killers actions as though he were present for the killing.
I enjoyed the television adaptions starring David Suchet very much but their adaption of The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd strays from the original text in what amounts to an unusual lapse of judgement. It remains a lovely piece of work but if they had remained true to the spirit of the original novel I believe it would have proved as memorable as the original. As it is it is almost a perfect slice of television crime drama and it is only that deviation which nudges it from perfection. yet if one can have gradations of perfection it comes close...
