Well, I mean, let’s be real. After that whirlwind romance with The Night Circus (which I just very reluctantly took back to the library), no other suitor was going to compare at all. So it might be that. But I really did not like Black Plumes.
No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it, it’s that I didn’t like it, and in fact really it’s that I was and am completely apathetic toward it. I read the book, I learned whodunnit, and I was like, “Oh. Okay. That’s cool, I guess.”
Maybe I’ve been spoiled by the other “Golden Age Girls”? Sayers, Christie, and Marsh (or really just all the authors of the period that I’ve read) have given me some crazy death or other that seems impossible or is really weird or has, like, twelve people who could have done it. The murder in this novel just sort of happens and then someone comes to investigate and then everyone suspects everyone else and then at the end it was some other guy who was never suspected, which, I guess I should have called that?
And there was this sub-plot-line with a pretend engagement that I actually didn’t like because it was just kind of annoying, and I didn’t care about either of the parties or any of the parties in the whole book and I couldn’t even tell you what the inspector’s name is or anything about him besides that he doesn’t say “just” or “joke” but rather “chust” and “choke” because apparently that’s what they say wherever he’s from and man that accent as done by this narrator was very distracting. So maybe it’s an audiobook problem?
I don’t know. I have really nothing else to say about this book, and that makes me kind of sad. Should I give Allingham another chance? Is this actually her worst book and I chust made a terrible decision? Please say it’s so!
Recommendation: I just… I don’t know.