![]() ![]() Even the inimitable Poirot loses his voice here he sounds more like an aging upper class British lady than a Belgian private eye.The one point I can recommend is that at least this novel improves at about two-thirds of the way through. It's like watching Muhammed Ali at the end of his boxing career - all the old sparkle and snap are gone, and you'd rather it all had ended in a more dignified way.I'll not belabor this review with a laundry list of this book's faults, other than to say that it's remarkably repetitious, and that the dialog is very bad indeed. It's not just that the subject matter of this very late Poirot/Ariadne Oliver novel is so inherently tragic, it's more the spectacle of the decline of Agatha Christie's skills as a writer displayed on page after page. ![]()
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