Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie

☆☆☆☆This review contains spoilers☆☆☆☆

Hercule Poirot solves yet another murder that flourishes in his general vicinity, an occurrence that happens quite frequently. Should authorities engage in the deliverance of Poirot to an abandoned island to save the humanity around him?
Certain individuals may attract the dark side in unsuspecting humans, forcing their minds with a murderer's logic to kill, though the "certain individuals" appear guiltless of their power.
This brings to mind, Stephen King's television show called Haven--a town of people who innocently have "The Troubles," which harm others around them in a myriad of ways.
Poirot would not hesitate in adjusting his address to a remote location if murders occurred from his continued existence amid the populace. Though, when a challenging murder case hasn't presented itself for him to solve, boredom steps in for Poirot, as he has a need to continually exercise his little gray cells. He lives in a paradoxical world--detesting the actual deed that conveys contentment to his brain using order, method and psychology.

Traveling on the Orient Express, through the snowy night from Istanbul towards its long trek across Europe, officials wake Poirot to impart the news concerning a fellow  passenger's murder. His famous gray cells embark on a journey of truth as he delves into an investigation.
The Perp left twelve stab wounds on the Vic (wrong time period), implicating specific passengers. Delving further in pursuit, Poirot inserts additional people in the guilty spotlight, until the number of suspects match the twelve marks on the body. Poirot imparts two outcomes, one sets the group free and the second delivers the twelve to the gallows.

Netflix contains twelve seasons of Agatha's Poirot, displaying several of her short stories and an occasional novel.  It's impossible for each episode to follow a strict formula capturing the exact story line, and the episode of Murder on the Orient Express fails on all levels.
Poirot appears without a human soul, exclusively empty of empathy or compassion. This horrid human being, watching a woman stoned to death for adultery (this scene in Istanbul doesn't appear in the book), states nonchalantly she knew the consequences for such actions, therefore the fault belongs to her alone.
Poirot's anger at the end lacks intelligence or wisdom, and the script writer's delivery to the back lot for a beat down would bring a smile to the heart of a multitude (or a few) of Christie's fans.

Christie's opinion toward Poirot emanates puzzling reflections--she states he's a "detestable, bombastic, tiresome, ego-centric little creep."
Arrogance depicts his extreme personality fault, and forced to stay in his near proximity on a daily basis, might prove tiresome, yet a creep--it's not in his job description.
It's understandable that an author's capacity of exhausting a continuing story line might possibly assert feelings of animosity which taxes her soul. Killing the beast wasn't an option, and remarkably she kept trudging along for her fans close to sixty years.

A recurring character, named Ariadne Oliver, appears in several books with Poirot. Oliver, who personifies Christie, writes a series of books which feature a Finnish detective named Sven Hjerson.
Oliver detests her creation, and she repeatedly complains of writing situations which generate enormous difficulties for Hjerson in concluding his cases.
Christie's apathy for Poirot mirrors Oliver's loathing of Hjerson, and declaring her emotions through an imaginary identity is brilliant.


Even though this isn't my favorite book starring Poirot, it's still interesting enough to continue rereading every couple of years.

The Orient Express existed in reality as well as fiction. The train line operated continuously for over one hundred years. Various  revisions of travel destinations altered over time, though significantly the route started or ended in Istanbul.
The train offered high-class rooms, food and service. The thought of eating in the dining car, sleeping in a little room with a bed that a porter sets up every night and sightseeing through countries still largely untouched by western influences impresses the need for time travel.
I would still love to travel with Poirot in the 1930's, though there may appear a temptation  to shave off his little friend (mustache). Would his face appear in public until it grew out?
Of course, his wrath could consume me and I would be exiled from his life--my plans to shave it off would change to appearing in my daydreams.

The Darkness by W.J. Lundy

☆☆☆☆This review contains spoilers☆☆☆☆

Running, running, running, running, sprinkled with finite altercations against zombie aliens, could sum up the entire book, and complete my review.

I wanted to love this book, all the elements are in place to create a forceful story, aliens who find a way to "zombiefy" humans, and force them fight against us, a man desperately looking for his family and the human will to fight against all odds, yet there's a missing factor composing any enthusiasm for their welfare.

Jacob falls in with a small group of soldiers and civilians trying to reach safety, while trying to stay alive, and that's when the running comes into play. I would correctly surmise this book to be 80% running to and from danger, and 15% fighting and dabs of worry for his wife and child.

There isn't a cohesive bond present that guides the book into an acceptable story. The characters in Jurassic Park move about constantly, but the story emerged perfectly written, without boredom permeating the hours spent lost in the world of dinosaurs. In fact, we want the characters to succeed in Crichton's books, yet I found myself not caring if Jacob fell to the enemy. If a defection to the dark side had occurred, my interest would have peaked substantially.

The lowest depth, the book achieves, occurs during the reuniting with his family. Tears, happiness, and joyful words, would not appear amiss, in his reaction on perceiving his family, in his hospital bed.
The aloof reaction he portrayed emanated milk warm at best, and bordered on a greeting to a mere acquaintance, and not a beloved family member. 

I yearned for the hospital scene to be a farce in which two possible outcomes could transpire:
(1) He concludes his family and hospital workers are actually alien zombies, controlled by the aliens. The use of subterfuge, by the infiltrators, to discover military's plans of defense would be brilliant.
(2) His family's happiness turns to horror when they discover he's an alien zombie. Their loathing turns into panic, when he systematically destroys every human in the room.

Instead, the book ends with a soldier informing him that it's time to join the military "for reals." This implies the second book will also contain running and fighting, which brings about my decision to quit at the first book and not proceed further in the series. 

A Path to Utopia by Jacqueline Druga

👽Spoiler Alert👽

Oh, dystopian books, how I love you, and Jacqueline Druga is my go to dystopian dealer to feed my need for this genre in my life.

Druga resides in the realm amid my favorite authors, though occasionally there exists a modest dissatisfaction displayed in her writing--her characters may emit the feelings of meeting old friends, then the realization occurs--they may be a rehash of recycled individuals.
A Path To Utopia features Robi, a clone of Brett in Torn who's a clone of  Ellen in Beginnings. Druga should abandon this blueprint, and start over fresh--possibly the correct answer is quality instead of quantity.
Though there's one aspect I admire in her female characters--they posses strength, they fight hard and they never surrender to failure. In a disaster, I'd happily join their team to struggle through each hazardous day with them.

Twenty-five percent of the population survives a worldwide catastrophic event, in which the majority of people die, collapsing to the ground, leaving the survivors alone with their fears.
The concept of standing amid a dead populated planet isn't an original idea, though usually the populace finishes an illness to produce the same result as in The Stand by Stephen King. Autumn by David Moody also has the majority of the world drop to their deaths simultaneously, though they eventually rise as zombies. However it happens, the fear would intensify with the supplemented horrors of evil, zombies or aliens, pushing the sanest person to lunacy.

It's amusing to watch the progress of the characters, the clueless creatures struggling to detect the truth. We (the reader) initially perceived the accuracy of the story--patience is required while waiting for their eureka moment.
The same formula happens in horror movies, when a young woman decides to walk up the stairs (or a room, house or the woods) alone. The audience grasps the truth of imminent death, though the women are so young, so innocent and shortly so dead.
Obviously, aliens attacked the earth, yet our group believes it's world war III, though one person, an elderly doctor they travel with, has ascertained the truth. When they realize he's not senile, he relishes his "I told you so" moment.
Mas and Sam, are two unequaled beings in our diminutive group, who can create walkies out of baby jar lids, yet display extreme excitement for a trip to a mall. They're beings from a world that isn't our own, though they wish to assist in our fight. The Calvary travels from their planet to ours, though they will not arrive for one Earth year.

It's my belief that all stories may be enhanced with a few zombies thrown in, though it didn't fit in the story line, Druga threw in a scene with a mob of walkers which created a warm and fuzzy feeling inside my heart.
All in all, a satisfying book, though distinct components appear crude, rehashed, and predictable, I loved it, and recommend it to all dystopian lovers.