“Begin by learning to draw and paint like the old masters. After that, you can do as you like; everyone will respect you.”

— Salvador Dalí

One of the first mystery novels I read as a precocious kid was Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. Although it was published in 1934, the story captured my imagination fifty years later. Now, as a writer, I appreciate it as a masterclass in inter-weaving tension, character, and logic.

From the moment the luxurious Orient Express sets off into the snowy night, we’re locked into Christie’s perfectly enclosed world. There’s something romantic and irresistible about a closed-circle setup aboard a train hurtling across Europe. When the first body turns up, the sense of isolation and claustrophobia permeates the page. A killer is among them, and there’s no way to get away. The confined space magnifies ever gesture and sharp conversation. It’s like the train is a character itself, secretive and relentless.

Christie’s investigator, Hercule Poirot, whom she introduced in her first novel, is famous for his pedantic precision and his borderlines rudeness. (One of my favourite scenes is the one where he refuses to help another character because “I do not like your face.”)  In Orient Express, she gives each supporting member of the closed circle cast just enough personality to be memorable, so when their stories knit together to allow the detective to make the final revelations, the plot snaps into place. Although there is a clever twist at the end, everything the reader needs to know to solve the mystery is right there, albeit hidden in plain sight. Christie knows that the difference between a challenge and a trick is important, and the challenge makes the reader’s experience rewarding rather than manipulative.

For all these reasons, Murder on the Orient Express continues to ensnare readers and inspire writers nearly a hundred years after its publications. There have been numerous film and stage adaptations, as well as retellings by writers such as Ruth Ware and Anna Holt. The appeal of the sophisticated exploration of morality, justice, and human behaviour under pressure is timeless, and the resolution is shocking not only because of its cleverness. The moral questions it poses stick with the reader long after the book is closed.

Christie never lost sight of our fascination with what our friends and neighbours–not to mention ourselves–might be capable of when pushed to the edge.  That fascination is just as strong now as it ever was, and will continue to be.