Another collection from the stable of Agatha Christie. And thank God for the prima donna farewell, because if Poirot would have had his way, he would have retired after the end of this book to cultivate vegetable marrows. But then Roger Ackroyd was murdered and the Dame served her Piece de resistance in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. But more of that later
Here, our beloved detective is besotted with the idea of retiring. A chance meeting introduces him to his namesake, the more famous Hercules of the Greek legends, and Monsieur Poirot decides that like his namesake, he too will undertake the labors.
So then begins a series of twelve short stories. From the case of the missing pekinese in The Nemean Lion, to The Taming of Cerberus Hercule uses his grey cells to solve the cases again and again. The stories are good. The language is impeccable and all are embellished with Christie’s knack of providing the most important details in the most innocent manner.
But....... its not The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. And that perhaps is the undoing. Its good, but not as good. Sometimes, certain passages in the stories really jarr and you are left pondering whether some dumbass editor was responsible for them or was the Dame really hitting senility.
The high point is definitely The Erymanthean Boar, and the low point is the Stymphalean Birds though the Girdle of Hyppolita comes a close second. Its infact the Girdle of Hyppolita where Poirot deduces things so ethereally that you are left wondering as to how he conjured the evidence from the air. It appears to be dangerously close to sherlock Holmes, but thanfully it isnt.
All in all, a decent read.