Poirot

Paid a visit to a local bookstore by the side of the Kuala Lumpur Convention Center during the lunch break. Amongst a sea of fictions, I met this one: The Life and Time of Hercule Poirot by Anne Hart.

The book is not a fiction; it is a detailed summary of the life of this great detective by Agatha Christie. For all lovers of our Queen of Detective Fiction, or fans of this Belgian with an egg-shape head, Hart has make this character very much alive.

You may wonder why I am so fond of this arrogant old man. Well, he was the first detective I ever met in the world of crime fiction. And, both of us have the incurable obsession to keep everything clean and in order. You know what, the very thing that I do every morning before I leave the hotel for the day is to tidy up my own bed – Vivian points out that I have probably read too many detective fiction and subconsciously want to make up false clue that I have not slept through the night.

PS. I owned one copy of this book 10 years ago when I was in Bristol, which - as usual - I threw away after finished reading it. When I realized I wished to keep a copy, I was back Hong Kong; the book was out-of-print. A few years ago Vivian got me the galley proof of this work as my birthday present, but it is still nice to have the final published version - after all these years.