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A review by giantarms
The Curse of the Bronze Lamp by Carter Dickson, John Dickson Carr
3.0
I grabbed this one up at the same time as I found The Gilded Man. And as I tend to choose the skinniest book on my shelf to read next, here I am reading two of these things in a row. But now I have two data points to work with. Isn't that exciting?
Once again, young rich people of varying degrees of wealth and/or nobility have Problems, most of which seem to involve who's going to marry below their stations first and how low they will be willing to go. In the midst of this, the youngest, richest, highest born of the group may or may not have got herself murdered. But that's okay because one time she talked to Sir Henry Merrivale on a train. Procrastinating on his scrapbook (I am not making this up), he decides to don a bigger, uglier hat and drop in on the young woman's house and see what's happening. This is to the great relief of the older, more hanger-on types who were not even remotely murdered and who must suffer the indignity of a warm house, good food, and a doting staff while they wait for the Old Man to mop up their friend's mess.
Meanwhile, in the 21st century, the reader struggles. On the one hand, the premise relies on the fear induced by the mummy's curse, which, as the modern person who routinely attends the speech of that one guy at work who always talks about Egypt knows, is not a thing. On the other, the reader assumes that everybody who wrote a novel before, say, 1972, is basically a dumbass who doesn't actually know anything about Egypt nor care about the problematic nature of the fetishization of non-white civilizations for western amusement. But on the other, other hand, the reader remembers that this is a mystery, not a ghost story. On the other, other, other hand, the writer has forgotten the point she was going to make when she started this paragraph.
Anyway. "Dickson" likes to write about rich English people in ridiculous houses with superhumanly responsible butlers whose compensation packages are never discussed. I absolutely accept this as a genre and if you do too, go nuts with this guy's whole deal. As for me, I didn't like the characters as well as in the other book and the ending wasn't as satisfying to me. It seems the killer was.
Once again, young rich people of varying degrees of wealth and/or nobility have Problems, most of which seem to involve who's going to marry below their stations first and how low they will be willing to go. In the midst of this, the youngest, richest, highest born of the group may or may not have got herself murdered. But that's okay because one time she talked to Sir Henry Merrivale on a train. Procrastinating on his scrapbook (I am not making this up), he decides to don a bigger, uglier hat and drop in on the young woman's house and see what's happening. This is to the great relief of the older, more hanger-on types who were not even remotely murdered and who must suffer the indignity of a warm house, good food, and a doting staff while they wait for the Old Man to mop up their friend's mess.
Meanwhile, in the 21st century, the reader struggles. On the one hand, the premise relies on the fear induced by the mummy's curse, which, as the modern person who routinely attends the speech of that one guy at work who always talks about Egypt knows, is not a thing. On the other, the reader assumes that everybody who wrote a novel before, say, 1972, is basically a dumbass who doesn't actually know anything about Egypt nor care about the problematic nature of the fetishization of non-white civilizations for western amusement. But on the other, other hand, the reader remembers that this is a mystery, not a ghost story. On the other, other, other hand, the writer has forgotten the point she was going to make when she started this paragraph.
Anyway. "Dickson" likes to write about rich English people in ridiculous houses with superhumanly responsible butlers whose compensation packages are never discussed. I absolutely accept this as a genre and if you do too, go nuts with this guy's whole deal. As for me, I didn't like the characters as well as in the other book and the ending wasn't as satisfying to me. It seems the killer was