Poirot Christmas Pudding: Gettin' Figgy With It

I thought I'd read everything that Agatha Christie had ever written.  Then I read a post on the blog My Thoughts On . . .  about Christie's short story collection The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding and discovered that there was at least one extra helping and that a portion of it was holiday flavored.  (My Thoughts On . . ., by the way, is a must read, offering insightful reviews on books, movies, and the world as we know it.)  Now, I could go off on a tangent about my issue with British puddings, about how they're not puddings at all but cakes and how some of them have blood in them.  But the only bloodshed I'll discuss here is the kind connected to the crime.  

The first story in the collection, also called "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding," features Christie favorite Hercule Poirot.  A paper pusher (it's obvious that Poirot doesn't respect him) hires Poirot to help a Middle Eastern prince in distress.  It seems that some minx has stolen the prince's ruby.  To find it, Poirot needs to leave London and spend Christmas in the countryside.  He shudders at the idea of an old-fashioned English Christmas -- an eccentricity befitting of the moustache-twirling, crime-solving savant if ever there was one.  But after being assured that the host house indeed has central heat, Poirot begrudgingly accepts.  Now it's up to him to recover the prince's priceless heirloom.  Never mind that the prince is marrying -- and cheating on -- his cousin.  Such details, as Christie assures us in her worldly way, are immaterial and to be expected.  The important thing is that justice be served -- along with the Christmas pudding!

Christmas at chez Trove is coming along, happily without the distraction of murder.  I'm still putting up my decorations.  This year, in quarantine-land, it's nice to be able to do it right.  For example, I think this is the first time that I straightened the limbs on my (fake) tree before loading them with ornaments.  I've also been taking the time to really look at every knickknack and keepsake.  I even kind of like how my tree garlands, etc. look tangled up on the floor!

Quarantine or not, Christmas is a time to be cozy -- and hopeful.  Even Agatha Christie, who exposes the darkness of the human heart like no other, succumbs to sentiment at the end of "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding."  It's a real testament to the magic of the season.

One way or another, that Christmas pudding will get you.