Lucy Worsley has established herself as a much-loved writer, historian and documentarian. She’s no stranger to tackling great British institutions; her previous biographies include Queen Victoria and Jane Austen. She’s also dabbled in crime. Her 2013 book A Very British Murder, and its spin-off TV series, explored Britain’s preoccupation with violent death, both real and fictional. Here, Worsley combines past interests, turning her attention to Dame Agatha Christie — century-old British institution and undisputed queen of crime. With 80 novels, 14 short story collections, umpteen plays and other texts, Christie remains the most successful woman author of all time. Only Shakespeare and the Bible have proven more popular — and it’s almost impossible to outsell God.
Much has been written about Christie’s life and work, including her own excellent 1977 autobiography. The 2020 centenary gave Christie devotees an excuse to celebrate her enormous influence, while contemporary reimaginings such as Kenneth Branagh’s films and the forthcoming collection of newly commissioned Marple stories have won her new fans. Christie is the literary equivalent of furniture: an institution so familiar her presence is often taken for granted. Almost everyone has read a Christie novel or seen one of the adaptations constantly recycled on TV. Sceptics might wonder if there’s anything new to be said about her. Did we really need another biography?
Having sat up until three in the morning devouring Agatha Christie: A Very Elusive Woman, I can wholeheartedly say yes. Worsley’s biography is fresh and relevant. Unsurprisingly, it’s beautifully written with an emphasis on readability. Like a good Christie novel, it sets a jaunty pace, powering through the key points of her life: the eccentric childhood, the marriages, her obsession with travel and archaeology, the books and plays, the infamous disappearance. Worsley provides fantastic insights into Christie’s plotting tricks and delicious examples how lived experience informed her fiction. Fortunate readers who have yet to encounter Christie should prepare to feel both captivated and compelled to read everything. Good news: there’s plenty to be getting on with. You’ll need to clear a bookcase or two.
However, there’s also something here for the Christie obsessive. I proudly include myself in this group. Worsley’s biography is littered with anecdotes, snippets and quotes I’d never come across before; I’m already looking forward to discussing this book with other AC fans. Through careful research and clever analysis, she’s managed to pen a portrait of Christie as a complex, elusive and influential woman, challenging cuddly stereotypes. This is neither a polemic nor a panegyric. Worsley’s tone is balanced throughout. There’s an obvious fondness for her subject and a deep respect for the way in which the notoriously shy Christie navigated her celebrity without letting it detract from her writing.
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However, Worsley is also honest about Christie’s flaws. Her two marriages are afforded a nuanced telling. First husband Archie is not the villainous cad I’ve encountered elsewhere, while Christie’s much younger second husband Max Mallowan is both the love of her life and an odd, slightly manipulative character. Christie herself is at times bad-tempered and needy — there are anecdotes aplenty suggesting she wasn’t always the easiest to work with — and Worsley pulls no punches in recounting Christie’s flawed relationship with her only child.
A large section of the book is devoted to analysing the 1926 disappearance. Christie herself was reticent when discussing what happened during the 11 lost days leading up to her being found — supposedly suffering amnesia — in a Harrogate spa hotel. Here, Worsley challenges the generally accepted version of events. Piecing together details from the very many times Christie actually spoke about her disappearance, she offers an alternative version of events, painting the author in a different light. In Worsley’s opinion she’s neither the victim nor a conniving villain, attempting to frame her husband. She’s a troubled woman, struggling with her mental health who’s begun to believe her own mythology. Reading Worsley’s comprehensive depiction of the elusive Christie — a woman who occupied many different roles and identities throughout her long life- I was reminded of Bob Dylan, that other great 20th century chameleon, whose myth often overshadowed his reality.
Worsley’s Agatha Christie may be elusive but she’s also primarily a woman. Christie’s five-decade career spanned a period of incredible societal change for British women. Worsley deliberately and repeatedly draws our attention to Christie as a strong, complex woman: a home-owner, voter, sexual being, successful writer, divorcee and single mother, a volunteer during both world wars, a driving enthusiast and, anecdotally, among the first western women to stand upright on a surfboard, all of which marked her out as reluctant to conform to traditional feminine roles. As both a woman and a writer, she remains iconic, influential and incredibly relevant.
Agatha Christie: A Very Elusive Women shows that Christie was just as complex, mysterious and elusive as the brilliant stories she wrote. A good biography should leave the reader slightly curious and, after reading Worsley’s, I suspect we haven’t closed the case on Christie yet.
— Jan Carson’s latest novel is The Raptures
