From time to time, Audible, or rather their publicists, send me a list of new releases in case I want to review any of them. This is often a great blessing, as it enables me get hold of new books I've been dying to read. However, though I was curious, this was not one of them -- I'd never heard of it, even though I am fond of Agatha Christie's novels. Of course, though it is a new release as an audiobook, it was first published in 1946, and turns out to be a real gem.
I suppose I knew about as much about Christie's life as the next person. I knew her first marriage had ended in divorce, that she'd married for a second time to an archaeologist, and that she used to go with him on digs. But I'd never given much thought to what that must have been like. Well, this is the book that answered that question, in the most delightful way possible. For this is a book absolutely stuffed with humour and charm, and one thing I felt sure of was that Agatha's marriage to Max Mallowan must have been a happy one.
Come, Tell Me How You Live, though not published till 1946, was written during the war, and describes events that took place during the 1930s. Max had got funding to excavate some important sites in Syria, and Agatha decided to go along. Several expeditions are described, as Mallowan and his team found an enormous amount of valuable material at several sites in the area. At the start of the book, though, Christie describes the journey to Syria in some detail, and quite a trek it was, involving a number of changes of train over several days. Then there was the settling in -- eventually the Mallowans had a house built for them by a local Sheik, but before that there was a good deal of roughing it, and life was never as comfortable or easy as Agatha was accustomed to. But she took it all in her stride with the greatest good humour (though not without the some episodes of intense irritation -- with the Arab servants and workmen, and even with Max himself, who seems to have responded with admirable kindness and understanding).
It's wonderful to see Agatha participating so enthusiastically in the everyday life of the dig. It was her job to clean and label the pots, and also to act as the official photographer, a task which made it necessary for her to have a darkroom built wherever they happened to be staying at the time, with extremely variable results. When you realise that she also managed to keep writing her novels during the several months' periods of absence from her English home you can't help admiring her tremendously.
Naturally, a good deal of the book is devoted to the differences she finds between the way of life she's used to and the habits and customs of the Syrian people. She's often struck by the differences between the Arabs -- gloomy, quiet, dressed in black -- and the Kurds, joyful, outgoing, colourfully dressed. But it's their attitudes to life, and to death, that she finds a constant mystery. The term 'inshallah' -- 'if God wills it' -- seems to be useable in a variety of situations, often functioning as an excuse not to commit oneself to any course of action, and of course also enables one to accept that death is unavoidable and not to be feared. And it often makes people careless about treating illnesses and ailments, much to Agatha's occasional irritation, as she gets put in charge of handing out medicines and realises that her patients will frequently not get the treatment they need. This is what happens when the Sheik sends his wives round for a medical visit:
I offer the conventional greeting and lead the way into the little storehouse. Not one woman, but five follow me in. They are all very excited, laughing and talking. The door is shut upon us. Max and the Sheik remain outside the door, to do what interpretation shall be necessary. I'm a little dazed by seeing so many women. Are they all wives? All need medical attention? Off come the veils. One woman is young, and tall, and very handsome. I imagine that she is the new Yazidi [Kurdish] wife, just acquired with the advance rent from the land. The principle wife is much older - she looks about 45 and is probably 30. All the women are wearing jewellery, and all are the gay, handsome, Kurdish type.
The principle wife turns out to have a serious case of blood poisoning, affecting her eyes, but it becomes clear that despite the fact that Max tells the Sheik she needs urgent hospital attention, he is unlikely ever to take her.'Inshallah'.
I suppose if this book had been written in 2015, we might have been talking about racial prejudice here, but in fact Agatha and Max are extremely broadminded, for their day, in accepting the local ways even when they find them hard to understand. Above all, though, this is a really entertaining and often very funny book. I was left feeling I not only knew a lot more about Agatha but also warmed to her tremendously, and was happy for her obviously happy second marriage to a man who clearly adored her.
Wondering about the title? It's a pastiche of a poem by Lewis Carroll, and describes her meeting with Max and her decision to go to Syria with him.
I met an erudite young man/A-sitting on a 'tell'./'Who are you sir', to him I said, /'For what is it you look?' /His answer trickled through my head/Like bloodstains in a book. He said 'I look for aged pots/Of prehistoric days/And then I measure them in lots/And lots of different ways./And then, like you, I start to write./My words are twice as long/As yours, and far more erudite./They prove my colleagues wrong'./But I was thinking of a plan/To kill a millionaire/ and hide the body in a van/Or some large frigidaire.
This audiobook was extremely well narrated by Judith Boyd, who seemed to me to have got totally into the spirit of Agatha herself. I enjoyed it so much I'm going to look out for a printed copy. Great stuff.
PS: When I sat down to write this I discovered the book had just been reviewed on the entertaining blog Clothes in Books. Here's the link.