Abaixo, trecho da matéria publicada em 04 de setembro de 2013 no “The Guardian”, escrita por John Sutherland com o título de “Exhuming Poirot is disrespectful towards Agatha Christie’s careful burial”. O final é bem enfático: “But please, let Dame Agatha, and Hercule, rest in peace. Having said that, of course I’ll download it 30 seconds after it comes out in 2014.”. Confira:
I hate the idea of a “new Poirot”…
… however good Sophie Hannah’s announced post-mortem sequel turns out to be.
The reason I hate the idea of this boiled-over Agatha Christie is that the story of the “last Poirot” is so moving, and such a credit to the queen of crime as a person. The new book (and let’s face it, money is the driving motive) will muddy one’s sense of the dignified way she wrapped up the life of Hercule Poirot.
The long birth of Christie’s last Poirot novel, the detective’s curtain call, is well known. In the early days of world war two, Christie (who had done her bit as a nurse in the first world war), like many other brave Londoners, refused to leave the capital, while at the same time fully realising that she might die in the Blitz.
It was a point of honour. In those uneasy months it must have seemed if not the end of the world, then the end of old England – her world. The England, that is, of Styles and St Mary Mead, as celebrated in the genteel “tea-cosy” crime fiction of which, by 1939, she was the acknowledged monarch. There were others – Elizabeth Bowen, Stephen Spender, Virginia Woolf (a band of patriot authors chronicled in Lara Feigel’s Love Charm of Bombs), who declined to follow Aldous Huxley, Christopher Isherwood and WH Auden to the safety of America. Christie was certainly internationally famous enough to have cut and run.
Leia a matéria completa clicando aqui.