The Secret Adversary was a spy thriller. I enjoyed it – 40-some years ago? – but it’s no cozy.
It’s a COCKEYED spy thriller, of course. Tommy & Tuppence are comic characters. I believe they were battling a faux Fu Manchu, an ersatz Moriarty, a phony Fantomas…parodies of earlier Evil Geniuses. But it HAS been 40 years.
Well, look, the thing is that while it’s a lighthearted and breezy spy thriller
[spoiler]where the case is locating sensitive government documents, they approach it like amateur sleuths (tailing folks through city streets, sneaking into place to eavesdrop on a conversation, conning people into revealing stuff, interrogating the occasional suspect, offering a potential informant a cash bribe, and so on) and soon realize they can solve the mystery by solving a kidnapping – which they can do in its own right, or by solving the murder of someone the kidnapper silenced – or they could simply realize what that kidnapped woman meant by her cryptic remark, which we readers heard too.
Tommy does realize what that kidnapped woman meant by her cryptic remark, which means he doesn’t actually need to solve the kidnapping in general or the murder in particular, since he and the reader can then deduce the location of the documents; but, great guy that he is, he instead goes for bonus points by solving that kidnapping by solving that murder, by process of elimination, by spotting the discrepancy we readers also get to see, sure as we also have the same Which-Suspect-Would’ve-Made-That-Error knowledge that Tommy has.[/spoiler]
As an aside, I do not fit that demographic. 
And what I was looking for was much closer to this than RealityChuck’s definition. 
I want a cozy that’s also a “fair play”. 
Ever read the Mrs Pollifax books? They’re sort of cozy spy novels.
I second the recommendation for the Nero Wolfe mysteries. Archie Goodwin has much more personality than Hercule Poirot.
That was true then, but not now. My wife has a cozy placed with an agent. Exapno Mapcase gave pretty much the current definition, to which I’d add that the lady amateur detective has some business which she runs and which does not get in the way of detecting. Examples are pet sitting, cheese shops, muffin shops, and crossword puzzle constructing.
Cozies are also relatively unrealistic, with the police not getting very much in the way of the detective.
A characteristic of the cozy is that the detective can make a living selling muffins in a small town - so as I said, unrealistic. Cozy fans gobble them up.
I just read the 17th in the Puzzle Lady series, which my wife got for my from the library because Will Shortz did the puzzles. The puzzles were good, if easy - the book really, really sucked.
I’m not sure what you mean, but “cozy” is how I would describe the Brother Cadfael mysteries.
As others have pointed out, the Secret Adversary is a) more of a spy novel than a detective story; and b) although there are clues and a major twist, it isn’t really fair play in that it’s more a villains vs. good guys thing than a “group of ordinary people, one of whom is the murderer” story. But it is cozy in the sense that it’s very genteel, without a lot of blood and gore, and suitable for reading by little old ladies.
Tommy and Tuppence were more spies than detectives, except in Partners in Crime, the short story collection, which is extremely dated because it parodies the popular fictional detectives of 100 years ago.
when there were only a few dozen of these series lots of them were worth reading. now we have twenty bazillionty and so many are not, too much chaff in with the wheat. :dubious:
Another vote for these, and I’d add that if you like audiobooks, this series is particularly great. Ralph Cosham is the narrator for the first ten books (unfortunately, he died a few years ago) and his voice is perfect. When I actually read the books, I “hear” them in his voice. Also, Louise Penny pretty reliably releases a new book in the series every August.
There’s a very specific definition of Cozies. But, in a way, they are just Traditional mysteries–before the Noirish Hard Boiled Crime Tales got popular. So Brother Cadfael would count.
(I’ve been reacquainting myself with Lord Peter.)
Still, the twist in Secret Adversary is that Tommy and Tuppence don’t in fact have official credentials from the British government – and so they explain away their acting-like-private-eyes hijinks by just introducing themselves as private eyes.
(And that’s leaving aside how Tuppence enlists the aid of a detective-novel-loving bellboy by passing herself off as an American detective passing herself off as a Brit while tracking down a jewel thief – complete with a reassuring promise that the aging oilman footing the bill for her detective work will reward the wide-eyed kid who’s truly impressed by how well she’s apparently faking an English accent.)
I mean, yes, Christie obviously takes the joke further in Partners In Crime, where the government (a) has them go undercover as private detectives, and (b) again, doesn’t actually care whether they solve murders that come to their attention while they’re on the job – but, again, both stories get to a weird place where the couple who call themselves private eyes while acting like private eyes succeed at private-eye work, and at some point I figure that technically counts.
BTW, Tommy and Tuppence break up another spy ring in the second novel, N or M, although that is more of a standard who’s the bad guy?
As far as classics, Dorothy Sayers’ “The Nine Tailors” is a wonder. It’s just plain fun, all the way through. And it’s completely honest with the reader: the necessary information is right there in front of your nose.
Reality Chuck mentioned “Death in Paradise” and “Midsomer Murders,” which are really spiffing TV shows. Another lovely TV show is “Miss Fischer Mysteries,” and the books, by Kerry Greenwood, are also a delight. The TV show captures the spirit of the books beautifully; one of the most loyal adaptions from book to drama ever.
(Hm… I just looked, and someone named Robert Thorogood is writing “Death in Paradise” tie-in novels, to good reviews on Amazon. I’ll grab one and see.)
Since there seem to be a lot of people with knowledge of Agatha Christie in this thread, can I ask a question that isn’t worth its own thread?
The other day, I was looking for something to read myself to sleep with, and by random chance picked her story, “The Bloodstained Pavement.” It’s the first AC story I’ve read, unless I read one so long ago that I’ve forgotten it.
You would think that with a title like that, the bloodstains on the pavement might be important. The narrator says she thought she saw them from a distance, but wasn’t sure she could trust her eyes. She asked a fisherman standing next to her, and he said there were none, but it was strongly implied that he misunderstood the question. Shortly afterward, she walked down and examined the pavement, and there were none.
[spoiler]The thing is, they should have been there. The crucial fact of the story was that blood was dripping off the red bathing suit hanging from the balcony above the pavement, and that’s obviously why she saw the bloodstains. There was no indication that anybody cleaned the pavement in the short time it took her to walk down and examine it. And there was no explanation about why there were no stains there.
Isn’t that cheating? It’s the title of the story, for chrissake. I took that to mean I was supposed to figure out where the bloodstains went, and the answer was — they just disappeared.[/spoiler]
I’ve googled around looking for an explanation, or for someone to agree that maybe it was a mistake, but all I found were people giving their opinion of how good a story it was, without mentioning my question.
Any help?
Can’t help with that specific book…but Agatha Christie does sometimes play games with her readers. She’s played the “untrustworthy narrator” game more than once. She’s good, but she doesn’t always play fair with us.
Or Perry Mason.
I don’t really have the sense that Fenris hasn’t already read Wolfe, though. On the off-chance that he hasn’t, however, I’ll assume he also hasn’t read Ngaio Marsh, Christie’s contemporary and a superior mystery writer in every respect, so her.
Recommending cozies can be hard because even the ones I like are often quite flawed. Cozies for me are for when I want something very simple and easy to read.
Here are a few series that I enjoy, in no particular order. I think they play fair, though my apologies if I just gloss over that sometimes. I do tend away from the cloying, but I think most people would call these cozies or cozy-esque.
Firmly cozy:
The Henrie O books by Carolyn G. Hart, starting with Dead Man’s Island, though I found that book both enjoyable and really, really stupid.
The Amanda Pepper books by Gillian Roberts, starting with Caught Dead in Philadelphia.
Cozy-esque:
Because you mention Mrs. Pollifax, I thought you might like the Vicky Bliss books by Elizabeth Peters, starting with Borrower of the Night (not the best book in the series, but fluffy and enjoyable).
The Trudy Roundtree books by Linda Berry, starting with Death and the Easter Bunny. May not be cozy enough because Trudy is a cop, but the feeling is very cozy.
Cozies, but with more of an edge:
The Bailey Weggins books by Kate White, starting with If Looks Could Kill.
And in the same-ish vein, the Sam Jones books by Lauren Henderson, starting with Black Rubber Dress. It’s not the first book in the series, but last time I looked the first two were not available in the US (this may be different now).
I’m also addicted to the Melanie Travis books by Laurien Berenson, starting with A Pedigree to Die For. Though I’m hooked, they aren’t necessarily very good!
Could you maybe put in a spoiler box why it’s both enjoyable and stupid? You’re pulling me both ways here! (I feel like a wad of taffy!)