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Mrs. Bradley #1
Speedy Death
A VINTAGE MURDER MYSTERY
Rediscover Gladys Mitchell - one of the 'Big Three' female crime fiction writers alongside Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
Alastair Bing's guests gather around his dining table at Chaynings, a charming country manor. But one seat, belonging to the legendary explorer Everard Mountjoy, remains empty. When the other guests search the house, a body is discovered in a bath, drowned. The body is that of a woman, but could the corpse in fact be Mountjoy? A peculiar and sinister sequence of events has only just begun...
This is Gladys Mitchell's first book and it marks the entrance of the inimitable Mrs Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley, psychoanalyst and unorthodox amateur sleuth, into the world of detective fiction. But instead of leading the police to the murderer, she begins as their chief suspect.
336 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1929
About the author
Gladys Mitchell
100 books143 followersAka Malcolm Torrie, Stephen Hockaby.
Born in Cowley, Oxford, in 1901, Gladys Maude Winifred Mitchell was the daughter of market gardener James Mitchell, and his wife, Annie.
She was educated at Rothschild School, Brentford and Green School, Isleworth, before attending Goldsmiths College and University College, London from 1919-1921.
She taught English, history and games at St Paul's School, Brentford, from 1921-26, and at St Anne's Senior Girls School, Ealing until 1939.
She earned an external diploma in European history from University College in 1926, beginning to write her novels at this point. Mitchell went on to teach at a number of other schools, including the Brentford Senior Girls School (1941-50), and the Matthew Arnold School, Staines (1953-61). She retired to Corfe Mullen, Dorset in 1961, where she lived until her death in 1983.
Although primarily remembered for her mystery novels, and for her detective creation, Mrs. Bradley, who featured in 66 of her novels, Mitchell also published ten children's books under her own name, historical fiction under the pseudonym Stephen Hockaby, and more detective fiction under the pseudonym Malcolm Torrie. She also wrote a great many short stories, all of which were first published in the Evening Standard.
She was awarded the Crime Writers' Association Silver Dagger Award in 1976.
Born in Cowley, Oxford, in 1901, Gladys Maude Winifred Mitchell was the daughter of market gardener James Mitchell, and his wife, Annie.
She was educated at Rothschild School, Brentford and Green School, Isleworth, before attending Goldsmiths College and University College, London from 1919-1921.
She taught English, history and games at St Paul's School, Brentford, from 1921-26, and at St Anne's Senior Girls School, Ealing until 1939.
She earned an external diploma in European history from University College in 1926, beginning to write her novels at this point. Mitchell went on to teach at a number of other schools, including the Brentford Senior Girls School (1941-50), and the Matthew Arnold School, Staines (1953-61). She retired to Corfe Mullen, Dorset in 1961, where she lived until her death in 1983.
Although primarily remembered for her mystery novels, and for her detective creation, Mrs. Bradley, who featured in 66 of her novels, Mitchell also published ten children's books under her own name, historical fiction under the pseudonym Stephen Hockaby, and more detective fiction under the pseudonym Malcolm Torrie. She also wrote a great many short stories, all of which were first published in the Evening Standard.
She was awarded the Crime Writers' Association Silver Dagger Award in 1976.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 200 reviews
May 1, 2025
a surprisingly weird book. I did not expect a Golden Age murder mystery set in a country mansion to be so strikingly bizarre. this is the first Mrs. Bradley mystery (the first of 65!!) and I wonder if Gladys Mitchell kept her long-running series as eccentric as its debut.
the book trumpets its oddness with the first murder victim (and this is not really a spoiler): the world-renowned explorer Everett Mountjoy, who turns out to be... a woman? why exactly she disguised herself as a man throughout her life is never explored. how she got herself engaged to another woman is also never explored. we learn nothing about her family, her background, no context whatsoever, except that this rather delicate and physically shy explorer has been pretending to be a man all along. the cast finds her body in a tub in chapter one, then early in chapter two it is noted that he was actually a she. and that's that! the novel proceeds on, as if this information is barely worth discussing. I should make it clear: I loved this. I've read nothing like it before. I kept on waiting for the novel to explain Everett Mountjoy's circumstances. the novel was uninterested in doing that; it shrugs at the idea of a gender swap. that delighted me for some reason.
but the true eccentricity of the book comes from its protagonist and chief mystery-solver, the elderly and very urbane psychoanalyst Mrs. Bradley. she's the opposite of Agatha Christie's kind and rather melancholy mid to late-period Miss Marple (she does bear a slight resemblance to the nosy and gossipy early-period Marple). this ferocious woman is consistently described as looking like some evil bird, her skin yellowed, her hands claw-like, her lips beaked, her smile gloating, her expressions full of "inhuman malignancy" like a "playful alligator." she's far more intelligent than everyone else around and makes that clear. she laughs horribly when considering the potential of more murder and mayhem; she's filled with glee whenever anyone gives in to morbidity or fear. she's as comforting as an executioner. she wears loud, garishly colored outfits that seem designed to offend the eye. and yet she also has a voice that is "unctuous, rich, and reminiscent of dark, smooth treacle." craziest of all: . I'd really love for you to click that spoiler, but it does spoil a stunning surprise. although it doesn't give away the identity of the murderer, so maybe you should click it! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
the book is far from perfect. it's a pretty slapdash and could use some tightening up. it's not sloppily written; it feels more like Mitchell was very excited to get this book out and so didn't spend any time editing or streamlining, she just wrote & wrote & wrote and then done! off to the publisher!
I will be reading more books featuring Mrs. Bradley. what an incredible weirdo, I'm in love.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
the book trumpets its oddness with the first murder victim (and this is not really a spoiler): the world-renowned explorer Everett Mountjoy, who turns out to be... a woman? why exactly she disguised herself as a man throughout her life is never explored. how she got herself engaged to another woman is also never explored. we learn nothing about her family, her background, no context whatsoever, except that this rather delicate and physically shy explorer has been pretending to be a man all along. the cast finds her body in a tub in chapter one, then early in chapter two it is noted that he was actually a she. and that's that! the novel proceeds on, as if this information is barely worth discussing. I should make it clear: I loved this. I've read nothing like it before. I kept on waiting for the novel to explain Everett Mountjoy's circumstances. the novel was uninterested in doing that; it shrugs at the idea of a gender swap. that delighted me for some reason.
but the true eccentricity of the book comes from its protagonist and chief mystery-solver, the elderly and very urbane psychoanalyst Mrs. Bradley. she's the opposite of Agatha Christie's kind and rather melancholy mid to late-period Miss Marple (she does bear a slight resemblance to the nosy and gossipy early-period Marple). this ferocious woman is consistently described as looking like some evil bird, her skin yellowed, her hands claw-like, her lips beaked, her smile gloating, her expressions full of "inhuman malignancy" like a "playful alligator." she's far more intelligent than everyone else around and makes that clear. she laughs horribly when considering the potential of more murder and mayhem; she's filled with glee whenever anyone gives in to morbidity or fear. she's as comforting as an executioner. she wears loud, garishly colored outfits that seem designed to offend the eye. and yet she also has a voice that is "unctuous, rich, and reminiscent of dark, smooth treacle." craziest of all: . I'd really love for you to click that spoiler, but it does spoil a stunning surprise. although it doesn't give away the identity of the murderer, so maybe you should click it! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
the book is far from perfect. it's a pretty slapdash and could use some tightening up. it's not sloppily written; it feels more like Mitchell was very excited to get this book out and so didn't spend any time editing or streamlining, she just wrote & wrote & wrote and then done! off to the publisher!
I will be reading more books featuring Mrs. Bradley. what an incredible weirdo, I'm in love.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
May 20, 2014
Despite being listed as ‘Mrs Bradley 2’ this is actually the first Mrs Bradley mystery. As I am pretty obsessive about reading series in order, this seems a pretty silly mistake for the publisher to have made. The Mystery of a Butcher’s Shop is the second book in a series which spanned 66 novels featuring Mrs Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley – psychoanalyst and amateur sleuth. Although a lady in her fifties when we first meet her, the author has great fun in poking fun at her looks and dress sense and she often described as ‘reptilian’ and with a cackling and unpleasant laugh. However, although there is no Miss Marple fluffiness masking a sharp mind, it is clear that she is a very astute lady indeed.
Having indeed saved the son and heir of Chayning Court. Garde Bing, from some trouble at University, she has been invited for a house party. Guests include Garde’s father Mr Alastair Bing, his sister Eleanor, Garde’s fiancée Dorothy, his friend Bertie Philipson, who has also hoped to marry Dorothy, the naturalist Carstairs and explorer Everard Mountjoy. No sooner has Dorothy arrived, when her future father in law is exasperated that Everard Mountjoy has not arrived down for dinner. When the matter is investigated, Mountjoy is found dead in the bath – but instead of a man, a woman’s body is found.
Carstairs insists it is murder and he teams up with Mrs Bradley to discover who killed the now, Miss Mountjoy. However, it seems that the murders will not stop at one and it is up to Mrs Bradley to try to outwit the killer. Written in 1929, this is a good example of a Golden Age mystery – with a house party, lots of twists and turns and, despite the often flippant humour, a real sense of danger among the guests. I love mysteries from this era and I am glad that I have discovered this author. However, I will first check a web page dedicated to the author to make sure I am reading the books in the order they were meant to be read in.
Having indeed saved the son and heir of Chayning Court. Garde Bing, from some trouble at University, she has been invited for a house party. Guests include Garde’s father Mr Alastair Bing, his sister Eleanor, Garde’s fiancée Dorothy, his friend Bertie Philipson, who has also hoped to marry Dorothy, the naturalist Carstairs and explorer Everard Mountjoy. No sooner has Dorothy arrived, when her future father in law is exasperated that Everard Mountjoy has not arrived down for dinner. When the matter is investigated, Mountjoy is found dead in the bath – but instead of a man, a woman’s body is found.
Carstairs insists it is murder and he teams up with Mrs Bradley to discover who killed the now, Miss Mountjoy. However, it seems that the murders will not stop at one and it is up to Mrs Bradley to try to outwit the killer. Written in 1929, this is a good example of a Golden Age mystery – with a house party, lots of twists and turns and, despite the often flippant humour, a real sense of danger among the guests. I love mysteries from this era and I am glad that I have discovered this author. However, I will first check a web page dedicated to the author to make sure I am reading the books in the order they were meant to be read in.
June 30, 2014
This was glorious. Why do I never get invited to house parties where someone is murdered? Why don't I know any frivolous young men named Bertie?
January 1, 2015
This is one example of having my expectations splintered due to watching the BBC's "Mrs. Bradley Mysteries" before reading this book. In the television series, Mrs. Bradley is portrayed by the elegant Diana Rigg, so I had her appearance firmly fixed in my mind. Gladys Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley could not be more different-- and it took me half the book to get Diana Rigg out of my head!
Gladys Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley is old, small, and the words used to describe her are "bird" (think vulture, not songbird), "reptile," and "dinosaur." She doesn't go out of her way to converse with others, wears tatty clothes, and wears her eccentricity like a badge of honor. The further into the book I got, the more I realized that she relished intimidating and shocking the other guests in the country house-- that is, when they noticed her at all. (The woman is very adept at flying beneath the radar.) The one thing that I didn't particularly care for was the fact that Mitchell seemed to keep all her characters at a distance from the reader. I almost wished Speedy Death had been written in the first person so I could worm my way further into Mrs. Bradley's head.
What absolutely delighted me besides the main character was the originality of the plot. I'm not about to give the ending away, but Mrs. Bradley is far from being the usual amateur sleuth, and she's not afraid of getting her hands dirty. She's definitely the type of character I want to know more about, so I'll be reading more in the series. Reading this first book about Mrs. Bradley put a big smile on my face, but then... I'm not exactly normal either!
Gladys Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley is old, small, and the words used to describe her are "bird" (think vulture, not songbird), "reptile," and "dinosaur." She doesn't go out of her way to converse with others, wears tatty clothes, and wears her eccentricity like a badge of honor. The further into the book I got, the more I realized that she relished intimidating and shocking the other guests in the country house-- that is, when they noticed her at all. (The woman is very adept at flying beneath the radar.) The one thing that I didn't particularly care for was the fact that Mitchell seemed to keep all her characters at a distance from the reader. I almost wished Speedy Death had been written in the first person so I could worm my way further into Mrs. Bradley's head.
What absolutely delighted me besides the main character was the originality of the plot. I'm not about to give the ending away, but Mrs. Bradley is far from being the usual amateur sleuth, and she's not afraid of getting her hands dirty. She's definitely the type of character I want to know more about, so I'll be reading more in the series. Reading this first book about Mrs. Bradley put a big smile on my face, but then... I'm not exactly normal either!
August 27, 2023
The Anti-Heroine Detective?
Review of the Thomas & Mercer Kindle eBook edition (March 4, 2014) of the original Gollancz (UK) hardcover (1929).
The cross-dressing in Speedy Death is not even the queerest thing about the book. Further details would get heavily into spoiler territory though. Suffice to say that Mitchell's description of her psychiatrist turned amateur investigator Mrs. Bradley are a complete antithesis to the standard attractive, elegant and genteel detectives of the Golden Age of Crime. She is first described as:
After that introduction, Mitchell doesn't miss any opportunity to further describe Mrs. Bradley as having grinned fiendishly, cackled and having a harsh cackle of eldritch laughter, and looking like some ghoulish bird of prey with claw-like hands and like an amused and mocking death’s-head with her reptilian smile. She is the smartest person in the room of course.
The spine and front dustcover of the original hardcover edition of “Speedy Death” as published by Gollancz (UK) in 1929. Image sourced from Grandest Game Wordpress (linked below).
Although the culprit and the motive will likely be obvious to most readers quite early on, it seems to take the longest time for everyone else to get on the same page. By that time there are further murder attempts and yet another death. Finally someone is arrested, but then the twists become even more twisted. It will make you wonder whether it wasn't written as a parody of the crime fiction of Mitchell's contemporaries. But then she went on to write 64 more of them, so further development must have been along a more serious line, as 65 parodies would seem to be an unrealistic stretch for a series character.
I discovered the Mrs. Bradley Mysteries by Gladys Mitchell from reading Christopher Fowler's excellent The Book of Forgotten Authors (2017) which I recently reviewed and rated as Five Stars. Although Mitchell was a contemporary of such Golden Age of Crime Fiction authors such as Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers, I had never heard of her previously and she is the first of the "Forgotten" that I chose to investigate. All 65 Mrs. Bradley mysteries have been republished in eBook & paperback by Amazon's Thomas & Mercer imprint in the recent years 2013 to 2018.
Other Reviews
Speedy Death 1929 by Gladys Mitchell by George Simmers, Reading 1900-1950, September 15, 2015.
WARNING: This following link contains major plot spoilers, but it also includes interesting excerpts from contemporary reviews in 1929, as well as a selection of actor portraits perhaps more in keeping with Mitchell's description of the Mrs. Bradley character Speedy Death (Gladys Mitchell) by Nicholas Fuller, Grandest Game Wordpress, December 5, 2021.
Trivia and Links
Speedy Death was adapted for television as the pilot episode of The Mrs. Bradley Mysteries (1998-2000) starring Diana Rigg as Mrs. Bradley (the casting of Rigg ignores Mitchell's description of the character). I could not find a trailer or a posting of the episode (the entire series is available on Britbox in Canada) but there is a delightful homemade tribute edit which uses clips from the series at Get the Party Started: The Mrs. Bradley Mysteries.
Review of the Thomas & Mercer Kindle eBook edition (March 4, 2014) of the original Gollancz (UK) hardcover (1929).
"In your opinion, which is the most remarkable feature of the whole case?”
“Well, apart from the murder itself,” replied Carstairs slowly, and appearing to ruminate as he spoke, “I suppose the fact that Mountjoy turned out to be a woman is the queerest thing about it.”
“Yes, that was queer,” said Mrs. Bradley, in a curiously inconclusive tone.
The cross-dressing in Speedy Death is not even the queerest thing about the book. Further details would get heavily into spoiler territory though. Suffice to say that Mitchell's description of her psychiatrist turned amateur investigator Mrs. Bradley are a complete antithesis to the standard attractive, elegant and genteel detectives of the Golden Age of Crime. She is first described as:
Mrs. Bradley was dry without being shrivelled, and bird-like without being pretty. She reminded Alastair Bing, who was afraid of her, of the reconstruction of a pterodactyl he had once seen in a German museum. There was the same inhuman malignity in her expression as in that of the defunct bird, and, like it, she had a cynical smirk about her mouth even when her face was in repose. She possessed nasty, dry, claw-like hands, and her arms, yellow and curiously repulsive, suggested the plucked wings of a fowl.
After that introduction, Mitchell doesn't miss any opportunity to further describe Mrs. Bradley as having grinned fiendishly, cackled and having a harsh cackle of eldritch laughter, and looking like some ghoulish bird of prey with claw-like hands and like an amused and mocking death’s-head with her reptilian smile. She is the smartest person in the room of course.
The spine and front dustcover of the original hardcover edition of “Speedy Death” as published by Gollancz (UK) in 1929. Image sourced from Grandest Game Wordpress (linked below).
Although the culprit and the motive will likely be obvious to most readers quite early on, it seems to take the longest time for everyone else to get on the same page. By that time there are further murder attempts and yet another death. Finally someone is arrested, but then the twists become even more twisted. It will make you wonder whether it wasn't written as a parody of the crime fiction of Mitchell's contemporaries. But then she went on to write 64 more of them, so further development must have been along a more serious line, as 65 parodies would seem to be an unrealistic stretch for a series character.
I discovered the Mrs. Bradley Mysteries by Gladys Mitchell from reading Christopher Fowler's excellent The Book of Forgotten Authors (2017) which I recently reviewed and rated as Five Stars. Although Mitchell was a contemporary of such Golden Age of Crime Fiction authors such as Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers, I had never heard of her previously and she is the first of the "Forgotten" that I chose to investigate. All 65 Mrs. Bradley mysteries have been republished in eBook & paperback by Amazon's Thomas & Mercer imprint in the recent years 2013 to 2018.
Other Reviews
Speedy Death 1929 by Gladys Mitchell by George Simmers, Reading 1900-1950, September 15, 2015.
WARNING: This following link contains major plot spoilers, but it also includes interesting excerpts from contemporary reviews in 1929, as well as a selection of actor portraits perhaps more in keeping with Mitchell's description of the Mrs. Bradley character Speedy Death (Gladys Mitchell) by Nicholas Fuller, Grandest Game Wordpress, December 5, 2021.
Trivia and Links
Speedy Death was adapted for television as the pilot episode of The Mrs. Bradley Mysteries (1998-2000) starring Diana Rigg as Mrs. Bradley (the casting of Rigg ignores Mitchell's description of the character). I could not find a trailer or a posting of the episode (the entire series is available on Britbox in Canada) but there is a delightful homemade tribute edit which uses clips from the series at Get the Party Started: The Mrs. Bradley Mysteries.
August 4, 2018
What a stunningly mean spirited book- full of misogyny, ableism and a sense that the rich are always right. Attached to a pretty poor mystery with fully unlikable characters and a very messed up system of ethics with a shockingly grotesque ending. The main detective character is like dark side Miss Marple. It almost plays as a satire of the meaningless, cruel and empty lives of the idle rich. It sort of features a trans man and manages to do basically nothing with it. None of the rich people give a shit about the murder except that it's annoying. Just... ugh.
The rest is spoilers for the entire plot and reveals all the details casually but I'm writing a lot cause I'm mad about it.
The rest is spoilers for the entire plot and reveals all the details casually but I'm writing a lot cause I'm mad about it.
June 15, 2016
Alastair Bing, the irascible master of Chaynings Court, is holding a house party that includes the crone-like psychoanalyst Beatrice Lestrange Bradley. When the internationally renowned explorer Everard Mountjoy, recently affianced to Alastair's daughter Eleanor, is found drowned in the bath, it looks as things could hardly get any worse. But they could. It proves that "Everard" was actually a woman . . .
I guffawed several times while reading this purported detective novel -- usually at the kind of humor that cinema aficionados might label Pre-Code (too, the book's from the right era for that comparison). Usually I'm prepared to cut books that make me laugh a lot of slack, but I found it increasingly difficult to do so with this one. I'd like to be charitable and say that the prose has dated badly, but the truth is that it's just poorly, often ponderously written, as if reveling in its own self-importance. There's a general air of unintended chaos about the plotting -- in fact, I'd say that as a mystery novel this is little better than a mess. It has a couple of surprising twists, but they work only if one assumes the novel is set somewhere significantly distanced from the real world.
I gave Mitchell a try a few decades ago, and was sufficiently scarred by the experience that I've steered clear of her ever since. More recently, though, I've come across a few favorable mentions of her work, even including the suggestion that she should supplant Ngaio Marsh as one of the four Crime Queens, so thought I'd give her another try.
More fool me.
I have another of her books in the house and so, sucker for punishment that I am, I'll likely pick it up at some point. (Besides, my wife is a fan of the radio series.) But my experience with A Speedy Death has almost certainly put back that moment by quite a while . . .
======
This is an offering for Rich Westwood's "Crimes of the Century" meme at his estimable Past Offences blog. The year being treated this month is 1929.
I guffawed several times while reading this purported detective novel -- usually at the kind of humor that cinema aficionados might label Pre-Code (too, the book's from the right era for that comparison). Usually I'm prepared to cut books that make me laugh a lot of slack, but I found it increasingly difficult to do so with this one. I'd like to be charitable and say that the prose has dated badly, but the truth is that it's just poorly, often ponderously written, as if reveling in its own self-importance. There's a general air of unintended chaos about the plotting -- in fact, I'd say that as a mystery novel this is little better than a mess. It has a couple of surprising twists, but they work only if one assumes the novel is set somewhere significantly distanced from the real world.
I gave Mitchell a try a few decades ago, and was sufficiently scarred by the experience that I've steered clear of her ever since. More recently, though, I've come across a few favorable mentions of her work, even including the suggestion that she should supplant Ngaio Marsh as one of the four Crime Queens, so thought I'd give her another try.
More fool me.
I have another of her books in the house and so, sucker for punishment that I am, I'll likely pick it up at some point. (Besides, my wife is a fan of the radio series.) But my experience with A Speedy Death has almost certainly put back that moment by quite a while . . .
======
This is an offering for Rich Westwood's "Crimes of the Century" meme at his estimable Past Offences blog. The year being treated this month is 1929.
April 4, 2018
Moronic. I let myself get excited about this book because it starts with a dead body belonging to the wrong sex: the explorer Everard Mountjoy was in fact a woman! Unfortunately, Mitchell does NOTHING with this premise. Neither the friends of the deceased nor the police as much as speculate about why Mountjoy chose to masquerade as a man, or how she succeeded. Silly plot twists and tedious red herrings dragged the plot forward for the requisite number of pages without provoking a flicker of interest on my part. Just get this: Eleanor killed Mountjoy because, after having forced the explorer to propose to her, she was shocked to discover Mountjoy was a woman. Then Mrs Bradley coolly poisons Eleanor to prevent the embittered spinster to bump off all the pretty girls in her vicinity. Apart from one surly inspector, everybody sees this as public service, and they cheer loudly when the jury can't return a guilty verdict for want of hard evidence. Cardboard characters, wooden prose, no atmosphere. If you are looking for a quality old-fashioned country house murder mystery, this is not it.
July 31, 2021
Meh! Ja vēlaties klasisko detektīvu, lasiet A. Kristi.
May 19, 2017
1929, #1 Dr. Beatrice Bradley, Chayning Court, rural England; classic Manor House style but with very dark edges.
The death of the famous world traveler Mountjoy in the bathtub isn’t the worst thing that happens to a genteel houseparty, but it sets the stage and puts all the pieces in play immediately the story opens. The darkly sharp insights of Mrs. Bradley (not to mention her extremely wicked tongue) serve to spice the goings-on rather nicely, as we ramble from room to room in the large old house, amongst the peculiar denizens and their personal demons.
Convoluted and well-paced, this treatment of a basic plot structure is anything but boring, and serves to indicate Mitchell’s quirky - and substantial - talents. Dutiful daughter Eleanor is, herself, quite a piece of work, and even sweet Dorothy has a few interesting bits; the males tend to show up as either lumpy brutes or intellectual-but-otherwise-dim bores, although there are one or two that seem nice, if a bit lost among all the mayhem. Elderly Mrs. Bradley is the undoubted star, with her acidulous attitude to life amply portrayed, and her eventual stint amongst legal minds a very nice ending twist that must have seemed quite shocking to readers of the period, who would likely not have anticipated it.
Settings: Cheyning Court, a lovely old house near a very small village; courts of London.
Main Characters: Beatrice Lestrange Bradley, psychiatrist and people-watcher; Alastair Bing, pompous wannabe archeologist; his son Garde, rough and forceful, engaged to the lovely Dorothy; quiet daughter Eleanor, who appears to knuckle down to whatever Father wants but who actually runs the estate as she prefers; her fiancé Mountjoy, intrepid explorer and VIP; Carstairs the naturalist, friend of the elder Bing, interested in puzzles - and people.
BOTTOM LINE: Still charming in spots, still generally entertaining, with a strong puzzle plot and beautiful characterizations, Mitchell’s first of many novels is not at all the sweet genre bit of fiction you might have been lulled into expecting by it’s original published date and initial premise.
NOTE: not at all like the cute TV series starring Diana Rigg - Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley is quite elderly, very ugly, often cruel, and very, very interesting.
The death of the famous world traveler Mountjoy in the bathtub isn’t the worst thing that happens to a genteel houseparty, but it sets the stage and puts all the pieces in play immediately the story opens. The darkly sharp insights of Mrs. Bradley (not to mention her extremely wicked tongue) serve to spice the goings-on rather nicely, as we ramble from room to room in the large old house, amongst the peculiar denizens and their personal demons.
Convoluted and well-paced, this treatment of a basic plot structure is anything but boring, and serves to indicate Mitchell’s quirky - and substantial - talents. Dutiful daughter Eleanor is, herself, quite a piece of work, and even sweet Dorothy has a few interesting bits; the males tend to show up as either lumpy brutes or intellectual-but-otherwise-dim bores, although there are one or two that seem nice, if a bit lost among all the mayhem. Elderly Mrs. Bradley is the undoubted star, with her acidulous attitude to life amply portrayed, and her eventual stint amongst legal minds a very nice ending twist that must have seemed quite shocking to readers of the period, who would likely not have anticipated it.
Settings: Cheyning Court, a lovely old house near a very small village; courts of London.
Main Characters: Beatrice Lestrange Bradley, psychiatrist and people-watcher; Alastair Bing, pompous wannabe archeologist; his son Garde, rough and forceful, engaged to the lovely Dorothy; quiet daughter Eleanor, who appears to knuckle down to whatever Father wants but who actually runs the estate as she prefers; her fiancé Mountjoy, intrepid explorer and VIP; Carstairs the naturalist, friend of the elder Bing, interested in puzzles - and people.
BOTTOM LINE: Still charming in spots, still generally entertaining, with a strong puzzle plot and beautiful characterizations, Mitchell’s first of many novels is not at all the sweet genre bit of fiction you might have been lulled into expecting by it’s original published date and initial premise.
NOTE: not at all like the cute TV series starring Diana Rigg - Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley is quite elderly, very ugly, often cruel, and very, very interesting.
August 21, 2022
Maybe the series improves—it would not be hard. The plot moves in circles rather than having twists. None of the characters—including Mrs. Bradley—are very well developed or likable.
Just goes to show that all wasn’t gold in the ‘Golden Age’.
Just goes to show that all wasn’t gold in the ‘Golden Age’.
July 3, 2020
I kept reading this book to find out if it could possibly continue to be as bad as it began. And it could! The story begins when the body of a dead woman is found in the bathroom that had been thought to be occupied by Everard Mountjoy. Within a few pages it is agreed that the body IS that of Mountjoy, the well-known and apparently male explorer. Fascinating in a 1929 novel, yes? No! Almost nothing is made of this. We learn nothing about Mountjoy’s life or their decision to become an explorer. We do find that Mountjoy was engaged to Eleanor Bing, a woman who no one likes. The police inspector supposedly investigating Mountjoy’s death says of Eleanor “there’s some young women that are past all bearing, and, if you’ll excuse an entirely unofficial opinion, sir, would be better out of the way; and Miss Eleanor Bing is one of them”. p. 95
Mountjoy’s engagement to this unattractive lady is the subject of sneers: “The feature of this case which I have not yet been able to fathom,” said the Chief Constable slowly, “is why the woman Mountjoy ever allowed herself to become formally engaged to poor Miss Bing. After all, it was a cruel thing to deceive a woman like that. And she must have known that marriage was an impossibility.” ... “The other explanation,” went on Mrs. Bradley, “may sound to you extraordinary, but it is more probably the correct one. Have you heard of sexual perversion?” The Chief Constable nodded. “Not a pleasant subject,” he said briefly. “I do not propose to discuss it,” Mrs. Bradley assured him, “but I do suggest that Mountjoy may have formed a very real and, for the time being, a very strong attachment to Eleanor Bing.” p. 105
But later, after Eleanor herself is murdered, her diary reveals it was she who proposed to Mountjoy, and then murdered them: “It is torture,” another entry read, “to be with my dear Everard as much as I am, and to know that he has no desire to caress me ... I want Everard to be manly and sunburnt.” “Deuced awkward for Everard. I wonder why on earth she ever consented to become engaged to Eleanor,” mused Carstairs ... “After all that, to find that Mountjoy was a woman simply turned the poor girl’s brain. Mrs. Bradley was right - Eleanor killed Mountjoy - but who the devil killed Eleanor?” p. 165
One character tries to murder Eleanor: “Well, I decide I must kill Eleanor before she could harm my Dorothy ... I sprang over the sill like a cat, and rushed at the girl, and with a terrific feeling of savage joy - I could have laughed and laughed aloud for the sheer, hellish pleasure of it! - I held Eleanor’s head under water, while the two taps beat a devil’s tattoo in my brain as they splashed crazily into the bath!” p. 134. The police don’t care about this attempted murder, as the Chief Constable says to the Inspector: “Personally, I’m more inclined to think Eleanor Bing was shielding someone she was fond of. Don’t say a name, Boring,” he concluded, laughing, “or I shall have to institute an official inquiry, and I’m not a bit keen, really, on charging a perfectly harmless person with attempted manslaughter.” p. 151
But it is the detective figure, Mrs. Bradley, who does murder Eleanor, although she doesn’t see it as murder: “I did not, in the everyday, newspaper, pot-house sense of the word murder Eleanor Bing. I merely erased her, as it were, from an otherwise fair page of the Bing family chronicle.” Eleanor was a frustrated spinster, sent mad by her repressions, a danger to beautiful girls and the murderer of Mountjoy. The book suggests that we agree with the character who concludes, “I think that if that old woman did do Eleanor in, then she deserves to be regarded as a benefactor of the human race!” p. 188
Cannot believe how awful this book is. A complete failure as a ‘mystery’ because there is no mystery, and deeply misogynist, homophobic and misanthropic. Ugh!
Mountjoy’s engagement to this unattractive lady is the subject of sneers: “The feature of this case which I have not yet been able to fathom,” said the Chief Constable slowly, “is why the woman Mountjoy ever allowed herself to become formally engaged to poor Miss Bing. After all, it was a cruel thing to deceive a woman like that. And she must have known that marriage was an impossibility.” ... “The other explanation,” went on Mrs. Bradley, “may sound to you extraordinary, but it is more probably the correct one. Have you heard of sexual perversion?” The Chief Constable nodded. “Not a pleasant subject,” he said briefly. “I do not propose to discuss it,” Mrs. Bradley assured him, “but I do suggest that Mountjoy may have formed a very real and, for the time being, a very strong attachment to Eleanor Bing.” p. 105
But later, after Eleanor herself is murdered, her diary reveals it was she who proposed to Mountjoy, and then murdered them: “It is torture,” another entry read, “to be with my dear Everard as much as I am, and to know that he has no desire to caress me ... I want Everard to be manly and sunburnt.” “Deuced awkward for Everard. I wonder why on earth she ever consented to become engaged to Eleanor,” mused Carstairs ... “After all that, to find that Mountjoy was a woman simply turned the poor girl’s brain. Mrs. Bradley was right - Eleanor killed Mountjoy - but who the devil killed Eleanor?” p. 165
One character tries to murder Eleanor: “Well, I decide I must kill Eleanor before she could harm my Dorothy ... I sprang over the sill like a cat, and rushed at the girl, and with a terrific feeling of savage joy - I could have laughed and laughed aloud for the sheer, hellish pleasure of it! - I held Eleanor’s head under water, while the two taps beat a devil’s tattoo in my brain as they splashed crazily into the bath!” p. 134. The police don’t care about this attempted murder, as the Chief Constable says to the Inspector: “Personally, I’m more inclined to think Eleanor Bing was shielding someone she was fond of. Don’t say a name, Boring,” he concluded, laughing, “or I shall have to institute an official inquiry, and I’m not a bit keen, really, on charging a perfectly harmless person with attempted manslaughter.” p. 151
But it is the detective figure, Mrs. Bradley, who does murder Eleanor, although she doesn’t see it as murder: “I did not, in the everyday, newspaper, pot-house sense of the word murder Eleanor Bing. I merely erased her, as it were, from an otherwise fair page of the Bing family chronicle.” Eleanor was a frustrated spinster, sent mad by her repressions, a danger to beautiful girls and the murderer of Mountjoy. The book suggests that we agree with the character who concludes, “I think that if that old woman did do Eleanor in, then she deserves to be regarded as a benefactor of the human race!” p. 188
Cannot believe how awful this book is. A complete failure as a ‘mystery’ because there is no mystery, and deeply misogynist, homophobic and misanthropic. Ugh!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 16, 2018
Gladys Mitchell, although she has somewhat fallen by the wayside in recent decades, was one of the ‘Big Three’ female crime writers of the ‘golden age’, alongside Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers. She was even the recipient of the Crime Writers’ Association Silver Dagger in 1976. Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley, ‘the most gloriously unorthodox female detective’ in the golden age of crime fiction is introduced in the first of Mitchell’s Mrs Bradley mysteries, Speedy Death, which was first published in 1929. Sixty six novels in total were penned in which she appears as protagonist. Vintage have republished four of her Mrs Bradley novels – the others are The Longer Bodies, Devil at Saxon Wall and Here Comes a Chopper – and have sixteen of her other titles available via their print-on-demand service.
Speedy Death opens with a young woman, Dorothy Clark, being chastised by her brother because she has appeared at the country house, to which many have been invited, on a far later train than she originally specified: ‘Our brother in the front row has been trying to get through to Paddington to find out whether you’d been rendered dead in the buffet through eating one of their ham sandwiches’, he tells her. The host of the dinner is one Alastair Bing, whose son, Garde, is Dorothy’s fiance. Mrs Bradley, whom Mitchell describes as being ‘dry without being shrivelled, and birdlike without being pretty’, is also a guest at this party.
The main thread of the story comes to the forefront of the novel when, during a dinner at Chaynings, the ‘charming country manor’, one of the guests – much-revered explorer Everard Mountjoy, who is engaged to Garde’s sister Eleanor – fails to turn up. Whilst searching around the manor for him, the other guests discover the body of an unknown woman in a bathtub. It is believed, upon further investigation, that Mountjoy was actually a woman who was masquerading as a man. The two men who discover this fact keep it from the rest of the party, and merely tell them that ‘Mountjoy was dead before any of us came down to dinner this evening’. Almost everyone present at Chaynings takes it upon themselves to try and solve what is believed to be the murder – rather than the accidental death – of the woman in the bath; a technique which holds intrigue.
The case is an interesting one, and holds surprises from beginning to end. Mitchell’s writing is consistently good, and particularly shines when one regards the conversational patterns which she has crafted throughout. Her writing is shrewd, intelligent, interesting, and really rather funny. Speedy Death is so well paced, and is not at all a predictable murder mystery. Mitchell has such skill as a novelist, and I for one am so glad that Vintage are reprinting some of her work. Fans of Agatha Christie and Josephine Tey are sure to love her.
Speedy Death opens with a young woman, Dorothy Clark, being chastised by her brother because she has appeared at the country house, to which many have been invited, on a far later train than she originally specified: ‘Our brother in the front row has been trying to get through to Paddington to find out whether you’d been rendered dead in the buffet through eating one of their ham sandwiches’, he tells her. The host of the dinner is one Alastair Bing, whose son, Garde, is Dorothy’s fiance. Mrs Bradley, whom Mitchell describes as being ‘dry without being shrivelled, and birdlike without being pretty’, is also a guest at this party.
The main thread of the story comes to the forefront of the novel when, during a dinner at Chaynings, the ‘charming country manor’, one of the guests – much-revered explorer Everard Mountjoy, who is engaged to Garde’s sister Eleanor – fails to turn up. Whilst searching around the manor for him, the other guests discover the body of an unknown woman in a bathtub. It is believed, upon further investigation, that Mountjoy was actually a woman who was masquerading as a man. The two men who discover this fact keep it from the rest of the party, and merely tell them that ‘Mountjoy was dead before any of us came down to dinner this evening’. Almost everyone present at Chaynings takes it upon themselves to try and solve what is believed to be the murder – rather than the accidental death – of the woman in the bath; a technique which holds intrigue.
The case is an interesting one, and holds surprises from beginning to end. Mitchell’s writing is consistently good, and particularly shines when one regards the conversational patterns which she has crafted throughout. Her writing is shrewd, intelligent, interesting, and really rather funny. Speedy Death is so well paced, and is not at all a predictable murder mystery. Mitchell has such skill as a novelist, and I for one am so glad that Vintage are reprinting some of her work. Fans of Agatha Christie and Josephine Tey are sure to love her.
February 7, 2020
I just discovered Gladys Mitchell & her formidable and highly unusual sleuth, Mrs Bradley - and I’m really glad the Shedunnit Podcast has featured her work. Speedy Death is a rather entertaining and fun read, full of plot twists that Mitchell weaves together admirably at the end. The main protagonist, Mrs Bradley, is a very interesting take on the old old nosey hag trope, before Miss Marple enters the crime writing scene. Bradley has a complete career as a psycho-analyst & medicine professional under her belt, she’s a feminist & an birth control activist. All of this plays a role in her way of sleuthing. Sometimes Mitchell is overdoing her caustic & nihilistic traits a bit, and there is some repetitiveness in her description of the rather eccentric appearance of Mrs. Bradley, bu these are very minor faults. I enjoyed this book immensely.
January 9, 2022
Gladys Mitchell is a revelation.
December 19, 2018
Mlle Alice, pouvez-vous nous raconter votre rencontre avec Speedy Death ?
"Je n'ai absolument aucun souvenir de la manière dont ce livre est arrivé dans ma wishlist, si ce n'est que j'adore la couverture et les "cosy mysteries", mais ce que je sais c'est qu'il y était depuis un bon moment. Je me suis donc décidée à le mettre sur une liste de cadeaux et j'ai eu le plaisir de le recevoir pour mon anniversaire."
Dites-nous en un peu plus sur son histoire...
"Alastair Bing reçoit quelques amis chez lui quand l'un d'entre eux, le fiancé de sa fille pour être exacte, est retrouvé mort dans la salle de bain. Plus choquant encore, on découvre qu'il ne s'agissait finalement pas d'un homme mais d'une femme ! Alors meurtre ou accident ?"
Mais que s'est-il exactement passé entre vous?
"Soyons honnêtes, ma maîtrise de l'anglais, qui me permet de lire des livres mais peut-être pas de comprendre absolument tous les jeux de mots et toutes les subtilités, a peut-être joué dans mon opinion (quoi qu'après avoir lu Jasper Fforde en anglais, je me croyais parée !). Bref, je n'ai pas aimé. L'héroïne, celle qui mène plus ou moins l'enquête, n'est pas vraiment sympathique. Elle semble avoir tout compris avant tout le monde et pourtant n'en touche pas un mot à la police alors même qu'elle est persuadée que d'autres crimes vont être commis. Charmant, vraiment ! Tout ce qui arrive, et qui n'est de toutes façons pas d'un suspense fou, l'amuse. Mais oui, après tout, que sont des vies humaines au regard d'un bon divertissement. De plus, il y a finalement beaucoup de bla-bla pour pas grand chose. Si on finit par être informé de ce qu'il s'est passé, on ne nous donne pas vraiment de détails, ni de scènes qui nous permettraient de nous mettre à la place des personnages. On reste en surface."
Et comment cela s'est-il fini?
"J'ai détesté la fin !! Malheureusment, je ne peux vraiment pas vous en dire plus sans vous spoiler mais sérieusement ? Allez, je retourne à mes Agatha Christie, ça vaut mieux..."
http://booksaremywonderland.hautetfor...
"Je n'ai absolument aucun souvenir de la manière dont ce livre est arrivé dans ma wishlist, si ce n'est que j'adore la couverture et les "cosy mysteries", mais ce que je sais c'est qu'il y était depuis un bon moment. Je me suis donc décidée à le mettre sur une liste de cadeaux et j'ai eu le plaisir de le recevoir pour mon anniversaire."
Dites-nous en un peu plus sur son histoire...
"Alastair Bing reçoit quelques amis chez lui quand l'un d'entre eux, le fiancé de sa fille pour être exacte, est retrouvé mort dans la salle de bain. Plus choquant encore, on découvre qu'il ne s'agissait finalement pas d'un homme mais d'une femme ! Alors meurtre ou accident ?"
Mais que s'est-il exactement passé entre vous?
"Soyons honnêtes, ma maîtrise de l'anglais, qui me permet de lire des livres mais peut-être pas de comprendre absolument tous les jeux de mots et toutes les subtilités, a peut-être joué dans mon opinion (quoi qu'après avoir lu Jasper Fforde en anglais, je me croyais parée !). Bref, je n'ai pas aimé. L'héroïne, celle qui mène plus ou moins l'enquête, n'est pas vraiment sympathique. Elle semble avoir tout compris avant tout le monde et pourtant n'en touche pas un mot à la police alors même qu'elle est persuadée que d'autres crimes vont être commis. Charmant, vraiment ! Tout ce qui arrive, et qui n'est de toutes façons pas d'un suspense fou, l'amuse. Mais oui, après tout, que sont des vies humaines au regard d'un bon divertissement. De plus, il y a finalement beaucoup de bla-bla pour pas grand chose. Si on finit par être informé de ce qu'il s'est passé, on ne nous donne pas vraiment de détails, ni de scènes qui nous permettraient de nous mettre à la place des personnages. On reste en surface."
Et comment cela s'est-il fini?
"J'ai détesté la fin !! Malheureusment, je ne peux vraiment pas vous en dire plus sans vous spoiler mais sérieusement ? Allez, je retourne à mes Agatha Christie, ça vaut mieux..."
http://booksaremywonderland.hautetfor...
April 7, 2026
Even after a couple of days, I'm not really sure what to make of this book. It's surprisingly weird for something written in the 1920s. The first murder victim is someone we would probably consider today as a transman, although the book obviously doesn't put it like that. Someone who lived his life as a man, and even friends didn't know otherwise winds up dead in the bath, at which point people realise that he has a female body.
The detective, Mrs Bradley, is also described oddly. At different points she's called ugly, birdlike, harpy, and there's repeated mentions of her claw-like hands, and cackling laugh. She's also a psychoanalyst, something rare for a woman in the period, and clearly very intelligent. But Miss Marple she is not. I'm not sure she had an honest emotion throughout the book, retaining a cynical amused detachment almost throughout, even when she was arrested for the second murder. She's more interested in the process, and the psychological profiles of the jury there than any concern that she might lose her life. Since Mitchell goes on to write literally dozens more books featuring the character, I guess she must have made an impact at the time. I do wonder if the character ever softens from this very harsh beginning.
The mystery of the first murder is revealed practically in passing, as we move on to the second without much fanfare. The resolution of the second was interesting. Without spoilers, it was an interesting decision for Mrs Bradley to make, in pursuit of the greater good. I just hope it's not going to be a recurring theme of the series.
The detective, Mrs Bradley, is also described oddly. At different points she's called ugly, birdlike, harpy, and there's repeated mentions of her claw-like hands, and cackling laugh. She's also a psychoanalyst, something rare for a woman in the period, and clearly very intelligent. But Miss Marple she is not. I'm not sure she had an honest emotion throughout the book, retaining a cynical amused detachment almost throughout, even when she was arrested for the second murder. She's more interested in the process, and the psychological profiles of the jury there than any concern that she might lose her life. Since Mitchell goes on to write literally dozens more books featuring the character, I guess she must have made an impact at the time. I do wonder if the character ever softens from this very harsh beginning.
The mystery of the first murder is revealed practically in passing, as we move on to the second without much fanfare. The resolution of the second was interesting. Without spoilers, it was an interesting decision for Mrs Bradley to make, in pursuit of the greater good. I just hope it's not going to be a recurring theme of the series.
March 15, 2022
I enjoyed this one despite Mrs Bradley being somewhat different from my usual Miss Marple-esque older lady, main character sleuths. Looking forward to the rest of the series.
March 18, 2026
2.5 rounded to 3. Why did I finish? Who can know? The title was half right-it was death, but it was NOT speedy.
September 5, 2021
This is marvellous. Also incredibly flawed, but that makes it even better. An explorer named Mountjoy is found drowned in a bath at an apparently standard-issue, Golden-Age, country-house family gathering. The first clue that something is a bit odd around here is that Mountjoy turns out to have been a woman, living as a man - and that everyone in this 1929 novel basically takes this in their stride (indeed it's never really explained or explored), except that all the guests are concerned to try to spare the feelings of the victim's fiancee by tying themselves in knots about gender pronouns. But should they be concerned anyway? Did Eleanor Bing know that she was engaged to a woman already? Did she mind? And might her affections lie elsewhere, maybe with Bertie and/or with Dorothy - she certainly keeps doing strange things around those two, like spouting profanities and smashing precious clocks. Meanwhile, Inspector Boring (his actual name) has been called in but Mrs Bradley happens to be one of the guests, and seems to be doing much of the investigative legwork. The narrator tells us she is "hideously ugly" and resembles a pterodactyl. She cackles madly and prods people aggressively in the ribs for no reason. She wears dresses described as "revolting." She is a Freudian psychiatrist, but also very likely a witch. She is the hero, of this and 65 subsequent novels. By the end of this one, however, she will have commited a murder herself, and been (wrongly) aquitted for this crime in a sensational trial, with her son as the defence counsel. He cares far more about winning for the satisfaction of it and for the sake of his reputation, rather than out of any concern for his mother's life. She applauds this attitude, she doesn't like her children all that much anyway.
It's all completely mad. The plot is flat-out bizarre, the pacing and structure wild and all over the shop. As Philip Larkin once noted of 'The Great Gladys', it's not impossible to reach the end of a Mitchell novel not just without knowing who the murderer is, but also even without knowing who was murdered in the first place. This is clearly why Mitchell is so divisive, why some readers are at a complete loss as to her appeal - anyone seeking careful, intricate plotting and a very firm, carefully-controlled hand on the narrative tiller (as in most of the Golden Age) will be left dismayed. Her appeal, on the contrary, is primarily comic, and eccentrically subversive - one doesn't have to dig deep here to encounter multiple seams open to intriguing post-modern, feminist, queer and radical readings.
Crucially, however, the books are not designed as comedies, and the enormous appeal of Speedy Death lies largely in never quite knowing the extent to which Mitchell's nuttiness as a writer is self-conscious or not. She is clearly knowingly witty, but for what it's worth I think the deep eccentricity would dispel the moment it seemed remotely faked or contrived; and that the sheer weight of ludicrousness, amorality (at least by conventional standards) and quiet but radical weirdness on display here must stem from the imagination of a genuine, true eccentric in the proper sense - one of the most distinctive voices in the history of detective fiction. Something about her (probably the straight-faced comedy, and the sheer Englishness) reminds me of the peerless Barbara Pym, otherwise Mitchell feels like nothing else in this or any other genre - a genuine original. Speedy Death is wonderful.
It's all completely mad. The plot is flat-out bizarre, the pacing and structure wild and all over the shop. As Philip Larkin once noted of 'The Great Gladys', it's not impossible to reach the end of a Mitchell novel not just without knowing who the murderer is, but also even without knowing who was murdered in the first place. This is clearly why Mitchell is so divisive, why some readers are at a complete loss as to her appeal - anyone seeking careful, intricate plotting and a very firm, carefully-controlled hand on the narrative tiller (as in most of the Golden Age) will be left dismayed. Her appeal, on the contrary, is primarily comic, and eccentrically subversive - one doesn't have to dig deep here to encounter multiple seams open to intriguing post-modern, feminist, queer and radical readings.
Crucially, however, the books are not designed as comedies, and the enormous appeal of Speedy Death lies largely in never quite knowing the extent to which Mitchell's nuttiness as a writer is self-conscious or not. She is clearly knowingly witty, but for what it's worth I think the deep eccentricity would dispel the moment it seemed remotely faked or contrived; and that the sheer weight of ludicrousness, amorality (at least by conventional standards) and quiet but radical weirdness on display here must stem from the imagination of a genuine, true eccentric in the proper sense - one of the most distinctive voices in the history of detective fiction. Something about her (probably the straight-faced comedy, and the sheer Englishness) reminds me of the peerless Barbara Pym, otherwise Mitchell feels like nothing else in this or any other genre - a genuine original. Speedy Death is wonderful.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 6, 2020
I have been meaning to read something by Gladys Mitchell since I read Ask a Policeman, all the way back in 2016. Ask a Policeman was a novel by the Detection Club, but since I wasn’t very familiar with all the authors, I didn’t really enjoy the book. Because of that, I made a mental note to read more of Dorothy Sayers, Gladys Mitchell, Anthony Berkeley, and the rest. Unfortunately, apart from Dorothy Sayers, the rest of the authors have been hard to get ahold of.
Speedy Death is the first of Mitchell’s stories and introduces Mrs Bradley, a psychoanalyst and extremely unconventional detective. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The story starts when Everard Mountjoy, legendary explorer, is found dead in the bath. Making things complicated is the fact that Mountjoy is actually a woman, not a man. Soon after, Dorothy, another one of the guests, is almost killed in bed.
Although the protagonist of the story, Mrs Bradley does not actually work with the police. In fact, the police distrust her! Mrs Bradley doesn’t even seem to be working for truth – she’s got her own agenda and she’s definitely going to carry it out (probably why the book ends in a trial).
I enjoyed this story very much. Mrs Bradley is an entertaining character – she definitely holds her own against Miss Marple and Poirot in terms of brains – and the fact that she relishes how creepy she appears shows her sense of humour. Carstairs, the closest thing to a sidekick Mrs Bradley has in this novel, was also entertaining. I really liked how all the characters in the house interacted with one another.
The police were interesting as well. While they are no match for Mrs Bradley, Inspector Boring is a persistent man who uses his brain. In any other novel (especially procedurals like Louise Penny’s), he’d be the protagonist. But he’s also a little too orthodox, so rooting for Mrs Bradley was a lot more fun.
I wonder why it’s so hard to get ahold of Mitchell’s stories. Speedy Death was entertaining and I enjoyed both the plot and the characters. I hope that more people will discover her works because they are fun, and I definitely need to look for more mysteries staring Mrs Bradley.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
Speedy Death is the first of Mitchell’s stories and introduces Mrs Bradley, a psychoanalyst and extremely unconventional detective. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The story starts when Everard Mountjoy, legendary explorer, is found dead in the bath. Making things complicated is the fact that Mountjoy is actually a woman, not a man. Soon after, Dorothy, another one of the guests, is almost killed in bed.
Although the protagonist of the story, Mrs Bradley does not actually work with the police. In fact, the police distrust her! Mrs Bradley doesn’t even seem to be working for truth – she’s got her own agenda and she’s definitely going to carry it out (probably why the book ends in a trial).
I enjoyed this story very much. Mrs Bradley is an entertaining character – she definitely holds her own against Miss Marple and Poirot in terms of brains – and the fact that she relishes how creepy she appears shows her sense of humour. Carstairs, the closest thing to a sidekick Mrs Bradley has in this novel, was also entertaining. I really liked how all the characters in the house interacted with one another.
The police were interesting as well. While they are no match for Mrs Bradley, Inspector Boring is a persistent man who uses his brain. In any other novel (especially procedurals like Louise Penny’s), he’d be the protagonist. But he’s also a little too orthodox, so rooting for Mrs Bradley was a lot more fun.
I wonder why it’s so hard to get ahold of Mitchell’s stories. Speedy Death was entertaining and I enjoyed both the plot and the characters. I hope that more people will discover her works because they are fun, and I definitely need to look for more mysteries staring Mrs Bradley.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
December 4, 2015
I have meaning to read a Gladys's Mitchell mystery for some time now but where to find one? Seems she has been out of favor with publishing companies for awhile, however Thomas and Mercer an Amazon imprint has now republished all or many (I'm not sure) Mrs. Bradley mysteries and they are very reasonably priced. And, if you are an Unlimited subscriber, well read away because they are all available with an Unlimited subscription.
OK, Mrs Bradley if you are not already aware is a bit different. First she is a female amateur detective at a time when the detective genre was almost exclusively male and second Mrs Bradley is a bit, well odd. Odd in the sense that she is blunt, perhaps to the point of rudeness, has a decidedly different sense of humour, is given to strange bouts of behavior and is encased in an elderly yellow skinned reptilian like body and tends to cackle frequently. On the other hand don't under estimate her, there is a method to her madness and she is quite capable of doing anything.
So, the adventure begins when a wealthy woman's fiancée is found drowned in a bath tub and discovered to be a woman. Well that's just the start and things continue to get tangled from there. In typical Golden Age style, a few more bodies pile up, things twist and turn and amongst the mayhem frequent dashes of humour are spilled and then it ends with one final twist of the knife and a good one at that.
Yes, I particularly liked the ending, so I will add a few more Gladys Mitchells to my unending stack of books to be read and continue to look forward to my task.
OK, Mrs Bradley if you are not already aware is a bit different. First she is a female amateur detective at a time when the detective genre was almost exclusively male and second Mrs Bradley is a bit, well odd. Odd in the sense that she is blunt, perhaps to the point of rudeness, has a decidedly different sense of humour, is given to strange bouts of behavior and is encased in an elderly yellow skinned reptilian like body and tends to cackle frequently. On the other hand don't under estimate her, there is a method to her madness and she is quite capable of doing anything.
So, the adventure begins when a wealthy woman's fiancée is found drowned in a bath tub and discovered to be a woman. Well that's just the start and things continue to get tangled from there. In typical Golden Age style, a few more bodies pile up, things twist and turn and amongst the mayhem frequent dashes of humour are spilled and then it ends with one final twist of the knife and a good one at that.
Yes, I particularly liked the ending, so I will add a few more Gladys Mitchells to my unending stack of books to be read and continue to look forward to my task.
March 4, 2017
Pretty odd! I had come across Gladys Mitchell only in the diaries and letters of Philip Larkin, and for some reason thought it was a pseudonym for a male author, but it seems not. A murder happens - or does it? - at an English country house. Everyone tramples over the supposed crime scene and destroys evidence madly in all directions. This is the first of many novels featuring an amateur sleuth who is also a psychoanalyst (although it is really hard to see how this progresses, given the outcome). The most interesting, and under- explored, thing is that the first victim, thought to be a man, turns out to be a woman living as a man who has got engaged to the daughter of the house, apparently without the said daughter realising. No reason is given for the lifestyle and deception (but strangely enough I do know of a later case of this happening, ca. 1950, very bizarre as it seems to modern readers). While people are at first surprised in the novel, they almost immediately start referring to the dead "man" as "she", without any further question. The whole thing is rather strange.
May 5, 2014
I have watch and enjoyed the Mrs. Bradley mysteries on PBS, starring Diana Riggs, so the Mrs. Bradley character in this first book in the (long) series was a shock! Nothing at all like the Diana Riggs character, she appeared to me to be a cross between Miss Marple and one of the witches from Macbeth - many times in the text, she is described as cackling and she clearly comes across as an intelligent but not nice person.
The mystery itself I found disappointing after a very promising beginning - a man at an English country house party is murdered in his bath, only he turns out to have been a woman who had been disguising herself as a man. Pretty risque for 1929!
The mystery itself I found disappointing after a very promising beginning - a man at an English country house party is murdered in his bath, only he turns out to have been a woman who had been disguising herself as a man. Pretty risque for 1929!
July 29, 2009
One of those books that is a little too cute to be a straight-forward mystery and a little to sober to be a farce. Lots of complicated twists and turns, red herrings and second guesses, but in the end, not very satisfying to read.
October 25, 2022
First in a series featuring eccentric psychoanalyst sleuth, Mrs. Bradley.
My review for the #1929Club:
http://perfectretort.blogspot.com/202...
My review for the #1929Club:
http://perfectretort.blogspot.com/202...
March 31, 2021
Apparently Gladys Mitchell is one of the underrated authors of the time, far less well known than Allingham and Christie. Well, if this book is an example of her work, I'm not surprised. I know books are of their time but to read of the 'negroid excitement' of jazz, the 'sexual perversion' of same-sex attraction and the dishonesty of 'a Dago's dog' would, I think be considered objectionable in any age. As to the 'mystery', well this must be the first whodunnit I've read where it was obvious from the start who actually did do it and why. There was no mystery at all. As for the characters, they're all most unpleasant and seem to spend most of their time grinning: that is their reaction to almost every situation! Finally, why does everyone remain in situ when there's obviously a homicidal maniac running around? That's about the only genuine mystery in this tepid, unconvincing book.
July 18, 2020
This book left me with more questions than answers (and I don't want to spoil anything) but
1. Why did nobody seem to care Mountjoy was a Woman? It could have made for some really interesting chapters?
2. Nobody seemed to really care about Eleanor's murderer as she was mad anyway!
3. Nobody was truely surprised that Eleanor attempted murder twice (surely her family should have done something after the first attempt rather than have a hearty breakfast)
4. Why did Gladys Mitchell write her hero as such an ugly old crone (not one nice word was written about her)
Anyway, I enjoyed this Country House setting, the atmosphere, the tension.
I found the Red Herrings a little obvious but fun.
And over all I liked the whole book, even if it left me wanting answers!!
1. Why did nobody seem to care Mountjoy was a Woman? It could have made for some really interesting chapters?
2. Nobody seemed to really care about Eleanor's murderer as she was mad anyway!
3. Nobody was truely surprised that Eleanor attempted murder twice (surely her family should have done something after the first attempt rather than have a hearty breakfast)
4. Why did Gladys Mitchell write her hero as such an ugly old crone (not one nice word was written about her)
Anyway, I enjoyed this Country House setting, the atmosphere, the tension.
I found the Red Herrings a little obvious but fun.
And over all I liked the whole book, even if it left me wanting answers!!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 21, 2023
2023 bk 15. I wanted to like this. I had purchased the tv series as part of a Christmas present to myself and wanted to read at least the first book in the " first. It is very much a period piece, but one with very few likeable characters - and I'm a character driven reader. The setting was the normal 'big house' with folks gathered for a visit. Among the folks gathered was the "rather bird-like in appearance" Mrs. Bradley, some bright young things, the very Lord of the Manor (who is pretty much ignored by everyone), an engaged couple, and a spinster sister. When a guest is discovered dead in the bathtub it sets the action going. This is much of the times - 1920's, Mrs. Bradly the psycho analyst slowly describing her interpretations of what she sees, the young man who acts as her side kick. The book was proceeding very slowly (I kept checking what page I was on.) then some quick, quick, and then slow again. I'm going to have to wait awhile to watch the show to get the taste of the book out of my mouth.
October 9, 2017
Very lightweight, but enjoyable story with some really quite eye-opening twists that - when thought about - should make us question quite a few of our assumptins about the 1920's. My only complain was the awful canned laughter they kept using for Mrs. Bradley at very xodd moments.
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