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Mrs. Bradley #7
Dead Men's Morris
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323 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1936
102 people are currently reading
525 people want to read
About the author
Gladys Mitchell
92 books142 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 70 reviews
December 15, 2021
I do enjoy Gladys Mitchell, she has a good blend of dark humour and detection all mixed up together.
However she does drag some of her books on and on (and this is one of those books)
I loved the Christmas setting, the folk lore and superstitions but Mrs Bradley just took too long to get down to it (in my opinion)
That and some characters dialogue were written in dialect and that always puts me off!
Solid 3 star Christmas read.
However she does drag some of her books on and on (and this is one of those books)
I loved the Christmas setting, the folk lore and superstitions but Mrs Bradley just took too long to get down to it (in my opinion)
That and some characters dialogue were written in dialect and that always puts me off!
Solid 3 star Christmas read.
February 5, 2020
Not really christmas. Very slow and convoluted. The local accents made it hard to read/follow. Too much about pigs!
September 14, 2022
Comparing a murder mystery to Agatha Christie, as per the jacket blurb, is a big ask. The book did not live up to that high praise.
Firstly I find the book was previously known as “Dead Men’s Morris” which is a more fitting and interesting title than “Death comes at Christmas,” but that is not Mrs Mitchell’s fault and got me to buy the book so was probably pretty clever.
Secondly, upon finishing the book I’m still not sure of what happened and who the principal characters were - or rather, I have no picture in my head of them, or separate identity for them. I didn’t really care. I’ve only just found out that this is the ?third Mrs Bradley book, which might explain why she wasn’t described or explained much. All I know of her is she has little black eyes, and yellow claws, or a skinny claw, (always yellow), which she points or grips things with. She cackles a lot, or has an eldritch shriek of mirth, and has various smiles that are always reptilian. Never “she smiled warmly” it was either a saurian smile, or a smile like a crocodile or a snake... my fav was “eyeing [whoever] with the maternal look of a mother boa-contractor watching it’s young attempt to eat their first donkey!” Or some other weird description. Whilst funny, what do these convey about a human person interacting with other human people?
Always the yellow skin. And on the subject of people of/with colour, it was the last page or two that a character turned out to be black! How do you miss that?
Thirdly, the paragraphs were not divided well. A conversation with one person was in the same paragraph as hours later with another character and it wasn’t always clear who she was talking to, and she called EVERYONE child... ALL THE TIME. Really annoying. Her nephew called her Love. The accents of the locals were sometimes a little hard to follow as the rustic accent was written out phonetically in their speech, which added to the character but only in so much as “hey it’s a local” and one chap used “one” for everything. The girls were interchangeable, and no one was particularly interesting.
Fourthly, the actual detective work was so confusing as Mrs Bradley seemed to vacillate between characters she thought were guilty, and the questions she asked and then the explanations of conversations to her nephew didn’t seem to match. She found things out without the reader seeing it and the questions she asked seemed to be random. So when at the end she said she knew who it was all along, the reader - this reader - is incredulous. The denouement didn’t make a lot of sense. I think because so little was actually described, you didn’t know where you were or who was talking. Scenes were cut short just as you were getting your feet in them. It gave a staccato feel and wasn’t satisfying to follow the plot.
I have no idea in my head about how Mrs Bradley might look - unless she really does look like a yellow lizard with black eyes and has claws, but she comes across as being a mad kook of a woman. Unhinged.
Perhaps Mrs Bradley #1 might clear some things up.
Firstly I find the book was previously known as “Dead Men’s Morris” which is a more fitting and interesting title than “Death comes at Christmas,” but that is not Mrs Mitchell’s fault and got me to buy the book so was probably pretty clever.
Secondly, upon finishing the book I’m still not sure of what happened and who the principal characters were - or rather, I have no picture in my head of them, or separate identity for them. I didn’t really care. I’ve only just found out that this is the ?third Mrs Bradley book, which might explain why she wasn’t described or explained much. All I know of her is she has little black eyes, and yellow claws, or a skinny claw, (always yellow), which she points or grips things with. She cackles a lot, or has an eldritch shriek of mirth, and has various smiles that are always reptilian. Never “she smiled warmly” it was either a saurian smile, or a smile like a crocodile or a snake... my fav was “eyeing [whoever] with the maternal look of a mother boa-contractor watching it’s young attempt to eat their first donkey!” Or some other weird description. Whilst funny, what do these convey about a human person interacting with other human people?
Always the yellow skin. And on the subject of people of/with colour, it was the last page or two that a character turned out to be black! How do you miss that?
Thirdly, the paragraphs were not divided well. A conversation with one person was in the same paragraph as hours later with another character and it wasn’t always clear who she was talking to, and she called EVERYONE child... ALL THE TIME. Really annoying. Her nephew called her Love. The accents of the locals were sometimes a little hard to follow as the rustic accent was written out phonetically in their speech, which added to the character but only in so much as “hey it’s a local” and one chap used “one” for everything. The girls were interchangeable, and no one was particularly interesting.
Fourthly, the actual detective work was so confusing as Mrs Bradley seemed to vacillate between characters she thought were guilty, and the questions she asked and then the explanations of conversations to her nephew didn’t seem to match. She found things out without the reader seeing it and the questions she asked seemed to be random. So when at the end she said she knew who it was all along, the reader - this reader - is incredulous. The denouement didn’t make a lot of sense. I think because so little was actually described, you didn’t know where you were or who was talking. Scenes were cut short just as you were getting your feet in them. It gave a staccato feel and wasn’t satisfying to follow the plot.
I have no idea in my head about how Mrs Bradley might look - unless she really does look like a yellow lizard with black eyes and has claws, but she comes across as being a mad kook of a woman. Unhinged.
Perhaps Mrs Bradley #1 might clear some things up.
December 28, 2019
Who to blame? The publishers who re-titled the book to catch the Christmas market or the idiots who added it to lists of 'Best Christmas Mysteries' presumably without taking the trouble of reading it first....
I'm not saying it's a bad book though it's a very odd one and though the deaths do occur during the twelve days, and snow does fall, there is nothing else about this book that could be interpreted as 'Christmassy', seasonal or festive whatsoever. So if your interpretation of 'Best Christmas Mystery' involves cosiness, carolling, festivity or cheer I would not recommend this book at all.
If on the other hand, you are interested in pig-farming in rural Oxfordshire in the thirties or Morris dancing or dysfunctional families in that place and time and are content to work your way through a fair bit of rural dialect... If, what's more, you can embrace the highly peculiar Mrs Bradley who cackles on just about every page (like a slightly demented macaw) and is consistently described as reptilian (saurian smile, benevolent alligator, satiated snake) and pokes and jabs her yellow claws and keeps calling everybody who is younger than her (practically the whole cast) 'child'.... If you can embrace all that, this may well be the book for you.
For myself, it was horrified fascination that kept me going, I only fear that may turn out to be addictive.
I'm not saying it's a bad book though it's a very odd one and though the deaths do occur during the twelve days, and snow does fall, there is nothing else about this book that could be interpreted as 'Christmassy', seasonal or festive whatsoever. So if your interpretation of 'Best Christmas Mystery' involves cosiness, carolling, festivity or cheer I would not recommend this book at all.
If on the other hand, you are interested in pig-farming in rural Oxfordshire in the thirties or Morris dancing or dysfunctional families in that place and time and are content to work your way through a fair bit of rural dialect... If, what's more, you can embrace the highly peculiar Mrs Bradley who cackles on just about every page (like a slightly demented macaw) and is consistently described as reptilian (saurian smile, benevolent alligator, satiated snake) and pokes and jabs her yellow claws and keeps calling everybody who is younger than her (practically the whole cast) 'child'.... If you can embrace all that, this may well be the book for you.
For myself, it was horrified fascination that kept me going, I only fear that may turn out to be addictive.
January 9, 2022
This is my first Gladys Mitchell book. The plot and mystery part was very interesting. However, some things were off-putting.
First, the book was quite long for the story. It would be a perfect detective story had it about 100 pages less.
Then, the local accent made it a little difficult to keep up with the storyline, especially when you are reading mystery. I missed a lot of clues because of that.
Those two things combined made the book boring in some way.
This is not totally a Christmas mystery, the crimes just take place at that time of the year, and some festivities are described. But other than that, the book is more of a folklore story, of which again I missed a huge part because of the dialect.
First, the book was quite long for the story. It would be a perfect detective story had it about 100 pages less.
Then, the local accent made it a little difficult to keep up with the storyline, especially when you are reading mystery. I missed a lot of clues because of that.
Those two things combined made the book boring in some way.
This is not totally a Christmas mystery, the crimes just take place at that time of the year, and some festivities are described. But other than that, the book is more of a folklore story, of which again I missed a huge part because of the dialect.
December 27, 2021
The rebrand of this from Dead Men’s Morris to ‘Death Comes At Christmas’ has led to a certain amount of disgruntlement from some reviewers, taken aback by the extent to which this book is about Morris Dancing and pig farming (that extent being “almost entirely”). For me both those things were a very pleasant surprise and I was gripped by this rural murder mystery.
It helps a bit that I’ve lived in the Oxfordshire countryside that’s so much a part of the story - and I didn’t find the thickly written dialect offputting like some readers do - but even without that the story has a macabre flavour with hints of folk horror. Ancient tales of ghosts, murder by boar, illicit trysts in woodsheds and pigpens and a climax that takes place at a Whitsun Morris Dance - surely something for everyone here!
It helps a bit that I’ve lived in the Oxfordshire countryside that’s so much a part of the story - and I didn’t find the thickly written dialect offputting like some readers do - but even without that the story has a macabre flavour with hints of folk horror. Ancient tales of ghosts, murder by boar, illicit trysts in woodsheds and pigpens and a climax that takes place at a Whitsun Morris Dance - surely something for everyone here!
December 30, 2024
2⭐️
Skim read to end. Originally published as Dead Men's Morris and cynically repackaged for gullible people like me who buy Christmas themed books, this wasn't my cup of tea. I quite like the Mrs Bradley character, but this dragged and was quite boring.
Skim read to end. Originally published as Dead Men's Morris and cynically repackaged for gullible people like me who buy Christmas themed books, this wasn't my cup of tea. I quite like the Mrs Bradley character, but this dragged and was quite boring.
December 24, 2020
Things I liked about this book:
1. The amount of biscuits Denis ate
2. Mrs. Bradley's bizarre and quite dark persona. She seems to be described as an ancient god / weird yellow witch at times, which was interesting and original at least. She also appears to be absolutely unshakable and surprisingly adept at self-defence which came as a pleasant surprise considering the time period these were written.
Other than these points, I found the book a really dull read. I was struggling to interpret the local's speech, and couldn't really follow the story line at all. Also there was a lot of information about all the roads being taken on the many, many car rides, and also about pig farming which I could have done without.
It seems like Mrs. Bradley knew what was going on, but I had no idea how and the clues being laid out were really obscure. It was a really mess of timelines and everyone lying and hiding information (for not very good reasons) which just made it really confusing - I prefer the kinds of reveals where bits of information eventually lead to the final perpetrator being revealed rather than it being an absolute free-for-all until the last page where conveniently left out information proves it's a particular person. To be honest, by the end, I didn't really care who had done what.
There wasn't much character exploration at all, except for maybe Denis who was irrelevant to the story line but made for some light relief. This was definitely a big factor for me in my lack of engagement with this book!
A 2 star rating, as I couldn't recommend this at all.
1. The amount of biscuits Denis ate
2. Mrs. Bradley's bizarre and quite dark persona. She seems to be described as an ancient god / weird yellow witch at times, which was interesting and original at least. She also appears to be absolutely unshakable and surprisingly adept at self-defence which came as a pleasant surprise considering the time period these were written.
Other than these points, I found the book a really dull read. I was struggling to interpret the local's speech, and couldn't really follow the story line at all. Also there was a lot of information about all the roads being taken on the many, many car rides, and also about pig farming which I could have done without.
It seems like Mrs. Bradley knew what was going on, but I had no idea how and the clues being laid out were really obscure. It was a really mess of timelines and everyone lying and hiding information (for not very good reasons) which just made it really confusing - I prefer the kinds of reveals where bits of information eventually lead to the final perpetrator being revealed rather than it being an absolute free-for-all until the last page where conveniently left out information proves it's a particular person. To be honest, by the end, I didn't really care who had done what.
There wasn't much character exploration at all, except for maybe Denis who was irrelevant to the story line but made for some light relief. This was definitely a big factor for me in my lack of engagement with this book!
A 2 star rating, as I couldn't recommend this at all.
December 26, 2020
I'm afraid the BBC and Diana Rigg are responsible for some of my dislike of this book - the 1998-2000 BBC dramatisation of 5 of Gladys Mitchell's novels didn't include this one, but I think I shall always envisage the eponymous Mrs Bradley looking like Diana Rigg, and hence struggled with the constant references to her cackling along with the claws and yellow skin (really, why yellow? Possibly this was explained in an earlier book, but in fact this is the first of this series I've actually read)
The other thing this book could really have done with was a map at the front showing where everything was. I know a little of the locations around the area in question and I got very confused about where people were going and when - I think I mixed up Stanton and Sandford early on and it was downhill from there.
As a mystery it was okay, but a little convoluted. Also the rebranding of it as a Christmas novel doesn't do it any favours, given that it isn't resolved until Whitsun! Still, it sucked me into buying it from Waterstone's Christmas sale table, so maybe the marketing department got short term satisfaction from those they persuaded thus...
The other thing this book could really have done with was a map at the front showing where everything was. I know a little of the locations around the area in question and I got very confused about where people were going and when - I think I mixed up Stanton and Sandford early on and it was downhill from there.
As a mystery it was okay, but a little convoluted. Also the rebranding of it as a Christmas novel doesn't do it any favours, given that it isn't resolved until Whitsun! Still, it sucked me into buying it from Waterstone's Christmas sale table, so maybe the marketing department got short term satisfaction from those they persuaded thus...
December 27, 2019
This book wasn’t my favourite Mitchell, but there’s something somewhat endearing about it.
On the down side, it’s overly long-winded, with far too much plodding description. Also, it has written dialect, which not only annoys me but makes me actually angry. There’s no need for it, you end up re-reading paragraphs over and over to understand the words and really, it adds absolutely nothing to a book. End rant.
On the plus side, it has a good plot that kept me gripped with a surprising killer, and most importantly, a festive setting!
On the down side, it’s overly long-winded, with far too much plodding description. Also, it has written dialect, which not only annoys me but makes me actually angry. There’s no need for it, you end up re-reading paragraphs over and over to understand the words and really, it adds absolutely nothing to a book. End rant.
On the plus side, it has a good plot that kept me gripped with a surprising killer, and most importantly, a festive setting!
December 31, 2019
A Christmas murder mystery to read over Christmas.
Very much a book of it's time. A lady sleuth, investigating the suspicious death in of a local solicitor.
The plot is strewn with bright young things, surley agricultural workers, controlling guardians and is entwined with the music of Morris Dancing.
Very much a book of it's time. A lady sleuth, investigating the suspicious death in of a local solicitor.
The plot is strewn with bright young things, surley agricultural workers, controlling guardians and is entwined with the music of Morris Dancing.
April 1, 2025
A lawyer with a weak heart is frightened to death, and a pig farmer is gored by an aggressive boar. Misadventure or murder? A good mystery, but I find Mrs Bradley annoying with her cackling and calling everyone "child". 3.5 stars rounded up.
December 9, 2023
DNF at 46 pages
December 22, 2024
A long time ago I was buying a few Christmas themed murder mystery books in a local newspaper. The clerk seemed surprised. I said that mysteries take the edge off of Christmas. He laughed aloud.
A Facebook friend mentioned this book and it seemed perfect. And, for the most part, it is. It's a bunch of short stories. There were two I found kind of dumb to be honest but most were clever with that sly humor that British writers are able to achieve.
It was a quick read and enjoyable.
A Facebook friend mentioned this book and it seemed perfect. And, for the most part, it is. It's a bunch of short stories. There were two I found kind of dumb to be honest but most were clever with that sly humor that British writers are able to achieve.
It was a quick read and enjoyable.
December 20, 2019
Bit long and didn’t really like the old lady sleuth, Mrs Bradley, found her a tad irritating.
September 24, 2016
Gladys Mitchell wrote 66 books featuring the unique and fascinating psychologist/detective Mrs Bradley. Because there are so many and because the quality of them varies, there are a number of lists compiled by Mrs. Bradley fans giving their favorites and least-favorites. I consulted some of those lists before I bought this one and it was in the middle or higher on all of them. I haven't read the whole series, by a long shot, but it's my least-favorite of the ones I have read.
I'm surprised by that because it's one of her earlier books (1936) and normally the-earlier-the-better for me. This one just seems confusing and I had a hard time following it. It's set in a small village outside of Oxford and the locals speak a strange dialect in which "i" becomes "e" in all words and everything is referred to as "er." ("Where is the car?" "Er be en garage.") Novels written in the early 20th century tend to have a lot of dialect to make the all-important differentiation between the "gentry" and the lower classes. Here it got old fast.
There's a cranky old lawyer with two marriageable daughters and a cranky old pig farmer with a moody nephew. Frankly, I couldn't get too interested in what happened to either one of them. The plot centers around two romantic triangles and I didn't give much of a damn who ended up with whom. And the plot hinges on the community obsession with "morris dancing" - a type of ritualized country dancing that's still popular in England. I'll pass.
There are good parts. It's set in a pig farming region and (much to my amazement) the descriptions of the pigs and the various methods of raising them held my attention. I don't eat or serve pork, but these aren't modern "factory farms" but old-fashioned farms where the animals were held in humane conditions until they were killed and the top breeders were rock stars. There's a teen-aged boy and Mitchell is always at her best describing adolescent boys. She was a tomboy who became a teacher and continued teaching for years after her writing income would have allowed her to quit. She loved children and it shows.
And then there's the formidable Mrs. Bradley. No book can be truly bad that features such a great character. And Mrs. Bradley not just solving crimes, but playing table tennis and riding around the countryside in the sidecar of her nephew's motorcycle? I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Don't skip it if you are a Mrs. Bradley fan. Just don't expect it to be one of her best.
I'm surprised by that because it's one of her earlier books (1936) and normally the-earlier-the-better for me. This one just seems confusing and I had a hard time following it. It's set in a small village outside of Oxford and the locals speak a strange dialect in which "i" becomes "e" in all words and everything is referred to as "er." ("Where is the car?" "Er be en garage.") Novels written in the early 20th century tend to have a lot of dialect to make the all-important differentiation between the "gentry" and the lower classes. Here it got old fast.
There's a cranky old lawyer with two marriageable daughters and a cranky old pig farmer with a moody nephew. Frankly, I couldn't get too interested in what happened to either one of them. The plot centers around two romantic triangles and I didn't give much of a damn who ended up with whom. And the plot hinges on the community obsession with "morris dancing" - a type of ritualized country dancing that's still popular in England. I'll pass.
There are good parts. It's set in a pig farming region and (much to my amazement) the descriptions of the pigs and the various methods of raising them held my attention. I don't eat or serve pork, but these aren't modern "factory farms" but old-fashioned farms where the animals were held in humane conditions until they were killed and the top breeders were rock stars. There's a teen-aged boy and Mitchell is always at her best describing adolescent boys. She was a tomboy who became a teacher and continued teaching for years after her writing income would have allowed her to quit. She loved children and it shows.
And then there's the formidable Mrs. Bradley. No book can be truly bad that features such a great character. And Mrs. Bradley not just solving crimes, but playing table tennis and riding around the countryside in the sidecar of her nephew's motorcycle? I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Don't skip it if you are a Mrs. Bradley fan. Just don't expect it to be one of her best.
December 7, 2020
Putting this one down unfinished.
Picked up this book at a charity to get me out of my current deep reading slump. Thought it would be a quick, light hearted Christmas murder mystery of the Christie persuasion (as the blurb promises). Wrong. This book was the equivalent of week old dry turkey.
The book is more about pig farming than it was about Christmas, the only Christmassy thing about it was that the murder happens to occur on Christmas Eve. Festivities though? Nada. As it was renamed by Vintage from “Dead Men’s Morris” we’ll chalk that up to a clever marketing ploy rather than a fault of the book itself. Nevertheless, at 290 pages the book could have comfortably made a 50 page short story, but at 300 pages it was dull, convoluted and mostly full of unnecessary speculation. I suppose that’s what happens when you have to churn a novel out a year (and with 66 under her belt, Mitchell was certainly churning them). That being said, I wouldn’t actively avoid other works by Mitchell - there are bound to be a few duds over the 66. Hopefully in others Mrs Bradley will have more of a personality than “old woman calling anyone younger than her child”.
Normally I’d persevere to finish- I’ve managed with worse books- but I’m not in the mood for reading much at the moment, and certainly not something that is such a slog for what I imagine will be minimal payoff. I just can’t make myself care enough about who the killer was. Back to the charity shop for this one I think.
Picked up this book at a charity to get me out of my current deep reading slump. Thought it would be a quick, light hearted Christmas murder mystery of the Christie persuasion (as the blurb promises). Wrong. This book was the equivalent of week old dry turkey.
The book is more about pig farming than it was about Christmas, the only Christmassy thing about it was that the murder happens to occur on Christmas Eve. Festivities though? Nada. As it was renamed by Vintage from “Dead Men’s Morris” we’ll chalk that up to a clever marketing ploy rather than a fault of the book itself. Nevertheless, at 290 pages the book could have comfortably made a 50 page short story, but at 300 pages it was dull, convoluted and mostly full of unnecessary speculation. I suppose that’s what happens when you have to churn a novel out a year (and with 66 under her belt, Mitchell was certainly churning them). That being said, I wouldn’t actively avoid other works by Mitchell - there are bound to be a few duds over the 66. Hopefully in others Mrs Bradley will have more of a personality than “old woman calling anyone younger than her child”.
Normally I’d persevere to finish- I’ve managed with worse books- but I’m not in the mood for reading much at the moment, and certainly not something that is such a slog for what I imagine will be minimal payoff. I just can’t make myself care enough about who the killer was. Back to the charity shop for this one I think.
December 6, 2021
2.5 rating.
No spoilers, but the killer wasn't a great character in terms of writing and pacing throughout the story. I clocked them as my main suspect about halfway through. This was a book club read, and others either noted them very early or not at all until the unveiling at the end - so take from that what you will.
The final revelations also felt very rushed and did not lay out quite as many clues and red herrings as I would have hoped - there were a lot of spinning plates in this mystery and it would have been nice to see more of them addressed at the end.
Other reviews have touched on this, but I am never a fan of phonetic spelling of accents and this was an especially bad case. Also noted in other reviews is that Mrs. Bradley doesn't have much characterisation (possibly this was established more in earlier novels?).
I did enjoy the pigs and the Morris dancing, which give this story a bit more of a unique flavour to set it apart from other detective mysteries.
No spoilers, but the killer wasn't a great character in terms of writing and pacing throughout the story. I clocked them as my main suspect about halfway through. This was a book club read, and others either noted them very early or not at all until the unveiling at the end - so take from that what you will.
The final revelations also felt very rushed and did not lay out quite as many clues and red herrings as I would have hoped - there were a lot of spinning plates in this mystery and it would have been nice to see more of them addressed at the end.
Other reviews have touched on this, but I am never a fan of phonetic spelling of accents and this was an especially bad case. Also noted in other reviews is that Mrs. Bradley doesn't have much characterisation (possibly this was established more in earlier novels?).
I did enjoy the pigs and the Morris dancing, which give this story a bit more of a unique flavour to set it apart from other detective mysteries.
December 6, 2016
It's important to pay attention when you are reading the Mrs. Bradley mysteries, as Mitchell adored hiding clues in unlikely places. In this case, the consulting psychoanalyst goes to visit her nephew Carey Lestrange at Christmas on his farm east of the Oxford, and while there she is caught up in the suspicious deaths of local solicitor and a farmer. Tracing over familiar ground for Mitchell (she was raised in Cowley, outside of Oxford) and mixing in the lore of heraldry, pigs, and Morris dancing, we are treated to an almost mediaeval glimpse of life in rural England in the 1930s, with murder. Unfortunately, the rural accent is reproduced all-too-well, and it is difficult, but not impossible, to get your head round what the cast of locals are saying at times. But read it aloud and sound it out, because this early Mrs. Bradley is a corker.
Full review to follow.
Full review to follow.
December 13, 2020
I always struggle with these Golden Age mysteries when the plot hinges too much on intricate details of niche rural practices or weird English traditions - in this case, pig-rearing and Morris dancing (see also The Nine Tailors by Sayers). The mystery and conclusion here are pretty satisfying, but the whole book is too long and drawn-out. And it isn’t very Christmassy!
December 23, 2020
Oh dear, far too long a read. Did not warm to any of the characters and particularly disliked the attempts to write in dialect and Mrs Bradley calling everyone "child" and being described as yellow skinned, with boney limbs and cackling.
January 1, 2020
Caution: May contain descriptions of Morris Dancing
March 15, 2020
Set and written in the 1930s the best part of this for me was the social history of the period. As a detective story it was average with parts failing to flow in the way that a good story does.
April 20, 2020
Very quaint and contrived, just as expected from a murderer mystery in this category. I loved the Morris dancing references, which in contrast didn't seem contrived at all!
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December 11, 2024That's a lovely festive scene on the cover, isn't it, especially on the paperback where the snowflakes really twinkle. Well, you can forget all about that; there are village scenes here, but mostly towards the end, when the snows are long gone, the denouement not coming until Whitsun. Death Comes At Christmas, you see, is a rebadge of Dead Men's Morris, though even then, while there is a fair amount of folk dancing content, it's mostly in the background for at least the first half of the book. You know what it does have, though, beyond the genre mainstays of old feuds, secret passages and an awful lot of people with complicated romantic histories? Pigs. I had assumed that, being a Blandings fan, I had probably read more than most people now living about the care and feeding of pigs in early 20th century England. After this, though, I am left with the blasphemous worry that the Empress might, whisper it, be a little bit of a Macguffin. Here, on the other hand, piggery specifics offer crucial clues, and Mitchell scatters plenty more just to add verisimilitude – it had never occurred to me before that sows might have varying numbers of teats! All of this being significant because Mrs Bradley's nephew Carey Lestrange* is a pig farmer along modern, scientific lines, while some of his neighbours favour the old methods. Once the bodies do start dropping – which, in fairness, does happen over Christmas – there's an awful lot of back and forth and prodding at alibis, Mitchell not yet having twigged that she can get away with chucking out most of that to make more room for vibes. But there are already vibes a-plenty too, including some of the most brazenly rustic murder methods this side of Midsomer. And if that thoroughness means it doesn't altogether feel like a Mrs Bradley book at this early stage of the series, Mrs Bradley is already indelibly herself; I'm not sure she goes five pages without cackling at any point, and if there aren't quite so many saurian metaphors as sometimes, the ones there are stick in the memory, not least when her expression is compared to that of a proud maternal boa constrictor watching her offspring swallow its first donkey.
*As if this sounding like a certain spoof pop act weren't enough, we're then introduced to Hugh and Denis in that order.
*As if this sounding like a certain spoof pop act weren't enough, we're then introduced to Hugh and Denis in that order.
December 5, 2022
This was the first Christmas book I started this year, but it took me an *age* to finish!
The reason? I could not stand the lead investigator, Mrs Bradley!
I’ve seen her compared so many times to Miss Marple, but other than their both being elderly ladies I can’t see the similarity myself. Marple is sharp as a tack and constantly underrated because women of a certain age as so often overlooked by certain types of people (like early 20th century police officers). She is as endearing as she is terrifying in her powers of observation. And her use of the term “My dear” is a signal to the reader that she is about to observe something quite sharp.
Mrs Bradley, on the other hand, is always the centre of attention and expects to be so. “Child” she calls everyone, from young Denis, the actual child in this book to her forensic scientist friend. And, oh, how it grated on me! Oh, how she grated on me. I felt sorry for Carey having such a pompous windbag of an aunt!
The story itself is straightforward enough, and, apart from the aforementioned overuse of “child” as an epithet, the writing is excellent. But Agatha Christie this is not, and the murderer is evident from almost immediately after the first murder is discovered. Then we have to watch La Bradley and Co stumble around uncovering them.
All in all, I’m glad to have tried a Gladys Mitchell, and I can see why for some people she is a marvellous writer (“The Great Gladys”, Larkin called her). But, unfortunately, Mrs Bradley is just not at all my cup of tea.
Three Word Review: Slow, slow, slow.
The reason? I could not stand the lead investigator, Mrs Bradley!
I’ve seen her compared so many times to Miss Marple, but other than their both being elderly ladies I can’t see the similarity myself. Marple is sharp as a tack and constantly underrated because women of a certain age as so often overlooked by certain types of people (like early 20th century police officers). She is as endearing as she is terrifying in her powers of observation. And her use of the term “My dear” is a signal to the reader that she is about to observe something quite sharp.
Mrs Bradley, on the other hand, is always the centre of attention and expects to be so. “Child” she calls everyone, from young Denis, the actual child in this book to her forensic scientist friend. And, oh, how it grated on me! Oh, how she grated on me. I felt sorry for Carey having such a pompous windbag of an aunt!
The story itself is straightforward enough, and, apart from the aforementioned overuse of “child” as an epithet, the writing is excellent. But Agatha Christie this is not, and the murderer is evident from almost immediately after the first murder is discovered. Then we have to watch La Bradley and Co stumble around uncovering them.
All in all, I’m glad to have tried a Gladys Mitchell, and I can see why for some people she is a marvellous writer (“The Great Gladys”, Larkin called her). But, unfortunately, Mrs Bradley is just not at all my cup of tea.
Three Word Review: Slow, slow, slow.
January 13, 2022
This was an inspired gift, a new author to me. It seems a bit of a pity to have renamed it from Dead Men's Morris but I can imagine it might drive up sales (although anyone buying it for that reason might be a bit disappointed by the season of solution).
This was a delightful crime read, engaging and never for a moment fluffy or cozy. It perhaps has sections of baggy back and forth between Mrs Bradley and nephew Carey, which may be just too realistic representations of the kind of musing that might go on. It's of its time (and class?), but I never felt I had to make allowances - there's a fascinating and spot on comment about different attitudes to death. The use of the vernacular for many characters slowed me down, but that may not be a bad thing.
Mrs Bradley seems a remarkable character. She cackles a lot, displays 'saurian' smiles and waves a 'yellowed claw' instead of her hand.
This was a delightful crime read, engaging and never for a moment fluffy or cozy. It perhaps has sections of baggy back and forth between Mrs Bradley and nephew Carey, which may be just too realistic representations of the kind of musing that might go on. It's of its time (and class?), but I never felt I had to make allowances - there's a fascinating and spot on comment about different attitudes to death. The use of the vernacular for many characters slowed me down, but that may not be a bad thing.
Mrs Bradley seems a remarkable character. She cackles a lot, displays 'saurian' smiles and waves a 'yellowed claw' instead of her hand.
December 21, 2025
CAWPILE 6.86
3 STARS
Probably my last physical Christmas read of 2025- I have a few on my kindle I'm hoping to get to before Christmas, we'll see how many I get done.
Picked this up fairly recently- I see the Vintage imprint quite frequently and it's lovely to see names from the past that I'm not familiar with. I've had mixed success with them in the past.
This is slow paced, almost plodding- also because it's #7 in the Mrs. Bradley series I felt as though I'd missed out on a lot of context/history just reading this as my first.
The main character is quite eccentric and I wasn't sure at first if she had a 'witchy' element to her- or perhaps being a psychoanalyst was seen as 'witchy' in the 1930's?
I didn't guess this one at all, I just went along with the story and was surprised at the ending.
Would I pick up this series? possibly but I'm not 'eager' to do so immediately.
3 STARS
Probably my last physical Christmas read of 2025- I have a few on my kindle I'm hoping to get to before Christmas, we'll see how many I get done.
Picked this up fairly recently- I see the Vintage imprint quite frequently and it's lovely to see names from the past that I'm not familiar with. I've had mixed success with them in the past.
This is slow paced, almost plodding- also because it's #7 in the Mrs. Bradley series I felt as though I'd missed out on a lot of context/history just reading this as my first.
The main character is quite eccentric and I wasn't sure at first if she had a 'witchy' element to her- or perhaps being a psychoanalyst was seen as 'witchy' in the 1930's?
I didn't guess this one at all, I just went along with the story and was surprised at the ending.
Would I pick up this series? possibly but I'm not 'eager' to do so immediately.
February 8, 2021
Death Comes At Christmas by Gladys Mitchell - ok
When I bought this, I totally forgot that I'd read a Mrs Bradley mystery before and not enjoyed it.
This was marginally better, but I certainly won't buy any more (although I think I have one on TBR so will read one more).
Set at Christmas, Mrs Bradley is visiting family in the country. There seems to be an awful lot about pigs and pig farming discussed and then the father of one of the girls has a heart attack when he is out looking for a ghost. Was it an accident or did someone set out to scare him to death. Of course, where there's one murder, another can't be far behind. Also more pig discussions!?
All very strange and I'm afraid not very satisfying. Just not for me.
When I bought this, I totally forgot that I'd read a Mrs Bradley mystery before and not enjoyed it.
This was marginally better, but I certainly won't buy any more (although I think I have one on TBR so will read one more).
Set at Christmas, Mrs Bradley is visiting family in the country. There seems to be an awful lot about pigs and pig farming discussed and then the father of one of the girls has a heart attack when he is out looking for a ghost. Was it an accident or did someone set out to scare him to death. Of course, where there's one murder, another can't be far behind. Also more pig discussions!?
All very strange and I'm afraid not very satisfying. Just not for me.
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