Grrrr argh. Once upon a time, due to many bad experiences with authors going out of print, I tended to buy series as they came, even if I hadn't been able to catch up with reading them. This explains Cornwell et al, but MCBeaton is a case of her own - worse, in a way. There ae many (esp. contemporary American female authors) who basically just describe their daily routines and add some "crime" elements around it; some are cozies, many aren't. "The Cat Who" series degraded into one of the most boring of them, and I have half a shelf of other perpetrators - but nobody did or does it with the same outrageousness as MCBeaton (aka Marion Chesney aka others). You can read any of her slim volumes in an hour or two, and you can reread them because there IS nothing to remember them buy. So why buy another if they are all absolutely the same, again and again? Because you (meaning me) CAN'T BELIEVE THAT IS POSSIBLE. As in the parallel series of Hamish McBeth, Agatha Raisin constantly pines for the love of her life, but they never get together - only Hamish is a hero, and Agatha gets shat on, not just by the other characters but by Beaton. For years I tried (see also: -i- read Cornwell) to see it as intelligent, sarcastic meta writing - Beaton started out with Regency romance (yes, I'm stupid enough to still wait for one of those, it's in Australia ATM) and now writes anti-romance. Beaton knows the realities women face, esp. less attractive, older women, so she shows their hopes and illusions being burst. BUT she does it over and over again, each chapter, each novel, and it's a see-saw, the constant put-downs and humiliation change nothing. We are meant to see that that is why Agatha deserves all she gets? We are meant to laugh because everyone is a nasty piece of shite? The feminism of this is that the vicar's wife states she shaves and waxes because hair on her skin is itchy, and the state of Agatha's hair and make-up isn't something nasty outsiders comment on but the only good thing about her (ie. if she spends half a day on it)?
Oh but it gets more devious - while Hamish doesn't fuck the blonde of his dreams, Agatha gets to bed her James - only James really is an asshole with no redeeming feature. So Beaton later introduces Sir Charles, who on the surface seems even worse - he's younger than Agatha, more fey, and sometimes openly rude, he also leaves her when bored - but the thing is, he's the only damn person around who seems intelligent, attractive and is actually nice to Agatha. He might say she looks old and he might have other women (they all do) but he actually defends her against others and spends a lot of time with her. That is the worst perfidity, three measly sentences thrown into the 220 pages of limited-vocabulary tripe and there I go, hoping against all wisdom that something or someone will EVOLVE and stop stagnating ... *pant pant* ok, no, that's it, I'll get rid of this series ... but somebody please let me know if she actually brings it to some conclusion before she dies (shouldn't she be dead by now?).
Before I forget: the mysteries - aren't. In each book Agatha drives around and talks to everyone (like the police did) and nothing interesting is ever said (two-syllable words rule). But of course James is the one who actually once points out that that's all they do. Still - DON'T! IT'S NOT FUNNY! IT'S NOT ENJOYABLE!